Chapter 44 Find The Witch
Maya’s fingers had just brushed the edge of the stone door when she heard footsteps.
They were fast and purposeful. Coming straight down the corridor behind her.
Her breath caught instantly. Without thinking, she withdrew her hand and slipped sideways, pressing herself into the shadow of a towering stone pillar just as two figures emerged from the darkness. The corridor was poorly lit, the torches few and far between, and for once the gloom worked in her favor.
She recognized them immediately.
Sloane and Ruben.
Her colleagues.
Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she strained to remain perfectly still, her back pressed flat against the cold stone. Even without her pendant, she could still feel the residual hum of magic in the air. Everyone here could. One wrong move and she would be exposed.
“How on earth could she have escaped?” Sloane snapped, her voice sharp with frustration. “Her cell was warded and she had a manacle on for moon’s sake.”
“I don’t know,” Ruben replied, breathless. “I just checked her cell. Nina was lying there instead of Eira. I’m just as surprised as you are.”
Maya clenched her jaw.
So Nina had been found.
“I don’t care how she did it,” Sloane said coldly. “We must find her. Search all the perimeters now.”
Ruben grunted in acknowledgment and hurried off down the corridor, his footsteps fading quickly into the distance.
Sloane lingered for a moment longer, muttering something under her breath before turning in the opposite direction and disappearing into the shadows.
Maya remained frozen long after they were gone, her pulse roaring in her ears.
They were hunting her now.
She exhaled slowly and stepped out from behind the pillar, forcing herself to move carefully, deliberately. Panic would get her killed faster than any blade.
She needed her emerald pendant.
Without it, she was vulnerable and wouldn't be able to teleport. She knew exactly where Damon would keep it.
His office.
The door she had been about to open.
Maya glanced down the corridor where Ruben had gone, then back at the door. An idea sparked, risky and reckless, but it was the only one she had.
She closed her eyes briefly and reached inward, gathering what little strength she had left. Illusions had always been her strongest discipline. Mimicry especially. If she could copy Ruben’s appearance and energy signature, she could walk straight through the door without raising suspicion.
But to do that convincingly, she needed more than his face.
She needed time.
And Ruben himself.
Maya slipped into the corridor, following the direction he had taken. Her steps were soundless, her presence folded tightly inward as she moved through the twisting passageways of the lair. The deeper she went, the colder the air became.
Then she smelled it.
Blood.
Her stomach twisted.
The corridor opened into a wider chamber lined with iron-barred cells. Thick chains hung from the walls, some stained dark with old rust, others still slick with something far more recent. Low groans echoed faintly through the space.
Lycan holding cells.
Maya slowed, her heart sinking. These cages were reinforced with layered wards, designed to suppress not just magic but primal strength. Whatever Damon was planning, he was gathering assets.
Then she saw him.
Levi was slumped on his knees in the farthest cell, his head bowed, his broad shoulders sagging unnaturally. Blood soaked through the back of his shirt, dried and dark around the wound, fresher streaks trailing down his side. His skin had gone pale, almost ashen, and his breathing was shallow.
Maya rushed to the bars before she could stop herself.
“Levi,” she whispered hoarsely. “Levi.”
His head lifted slowly.
His hair clung to his forehead with sweat and blood, his expression drawn but still sharp enough to recognize her. A weak smirk tugged at his lips.
“Hello, witch,” he said, his voice rough but unmistakably amused.
Maya swallowed hard. “You’re losing too much blood,” she said. “How long have you been here.”
“Long enough,” he replied. “You look worse.”
She huffed a shaky breath. “I’ve had better nights.”
Levi shifted slightly, wincing. “So,” he murmured. “Let me guess. The great Order finally decided you were disposable.”
Maya’s jaw tightened. “They always do.”
Their eyes locked for a brief moment, unspoken understanding passing between them. There was no time to explain everything. No time for sentiment.
“They’re coming,” Maya said quietly. “And Damon is planning something terrible.”
Levi’s expression hardened despite his weakened state. “Figures.”
Maya stepped back reluctantly. “I’ll come back for you,” she said. “I promise.”
Levi gave a faint nod. “Make it quick,” he said. “I don’t think they plan on keeping either of us alive much longer.”
She turned away before the guilt could root her to the spot.
Ruben.
She found him near the outer corridor, scanning the area with irritation written plainly across his face. He did not sense her approach until it was too late.
Maya struck swiftly.
She came up behind him, driving her elbow into the base of his skull with precise force. Ruben let out a short grunt before collapsing forward. She caught him before he hit the ground, dragging him into a dark alcove and lowering him carefully.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, even though he could not hear her.
She knelt beside him and closed her eyes, letting her magic flow outward. His face blurred in her mind, his height, his posture, the subtle way his energy moved. The illusion settled over her like a second skin.
When she opened her eyes again, she was Ruben.
She straightened, rolling her shoulders, testing the disguise. Even the faint magical signature matched closely enough to pass inspection.
Keeping her head down, Maya walked back toward Damon’s office.
The guards barely glanced at her as she approached the door.
“Orders from Sloane,” she muttered in Ruben’s voice. “She wants a perimeter check completed.”
One of them nodded and stepped aside.
Maya’s hand closed around the handle.
Beyond this door lay her pendant.
And possibly her death.
She pushed it open and stepped inside, her heart hammering violently as the door shut behind her.
There was no turning back now.