Bast picks me back up and continues through the yard and the house.
Rachel waits by one of the cars on the road in front of the main house, her face tight. “The others are inside the varioushouses the Court owned,” she tells Bast. “Some of the younger witches want to stay. Lawrence and Lila are handling them.”
“Good.” Bast’s arms tighten around me protectively. “I’m taking Bridget into town and getting us a room.”
Rachel steps closer, her hands already weaving a subtle pattern in the air. “Hold on. Let me…” A gentle warmth cascades over my skin as she murmurs under her breath. The cuts and scratches fade, and I feel the sticky residue of blood dissolve away. She touches my hand gently and flashes me a soft smile. “I’ve got Brianna, okay?”
I nod and then let my head sink back against Bast’s chest.
“Thank you, Rachel. And call if anything urgent comes up,” Bast says, already moving toward one of the cars. He settles me in the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel.
The drive through Salem’s historic streets feels dreamlike. Tourist groups wander past in colonial costumes, snapping photos, completely unaware of the battle that just took place blocks away. Bast pulls up to a small bed-and-breakfast—all gingerbread trim and climbing roses.
“Here.” He wraps a jacket around my shoulders. “Let’s get you inside.”
The elderly woman at the front desk takes one look at my bare feet and exhausted face and springs into action. “Poor dear! What happened?”
I manage a weak laugh, leaning into Bast for support. “Would you believe I lost them to a very persistent squirrel in the park? Apparently, they’re expanding their acorn storage solutions this year.”
The innkeeper chuckles, her concern melting into amusement. “Well, that’s certainly a new one. Those Salem squirrels are getting quite bold, indeed.”
“We’ve been traveling,” Bast adds, playing along. “And clearly making some questionable decisions about wildlife encounters.”
“It’s our honeymoon,” I add, flashing her a bigger smile. “The airport lost our luggage and then the hotel down on Main lost our reservations, so we were hoping—”
“Oh, you poor things. Let me get you our best room.” She hands over keys, then adds, “I’ll have some food sent up, and I can run to the store for whatever else you might need.”
“Fresh clothes for both of us,” Bast says, already guiding me toward the stairs. “And maybe some basic toiletries. I’ll take care of payment as soon as I get her settled. Thank you.”
“Consider it done,” she calls after us.
The room is covered in floral wallpaper and filled with antique furniture. A huge claw-foot tub sits in the attached bathroom. Bast starts filling it immediately, testing the water temperature with one hand while supporting me with the other.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, helping me out of my clothes. His touch is gentle as he helps me into the steaming water.
I sink into the warmth with a sigh, letting it ease my aching muscles. Bast kneels beside the tub, one hand stroking my hair. Our bond pulses between us, steady and strong—a reminder that we survived. That we’re together.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
For the first time since I was dragged from his bed, I believe it.
He strips out of his clothes and climbs into the tub behind me, pulling me back against his chest. The simple contact breaks something inside me. All the fear, the pain, the helplessness of watching them hurt my sister, of having our bond ripped away—it crashes through me in waves.
The first sob tears from my throat before I can stop it. Then another. And another.
“That’s it,” Bast murmurs, his arms tightening around me. “Let it out. You’re safe now.” His love and support wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“They hurt her so much,” I choke out between sobs. “For years. I watched them hurt her and I kept doing everything they wanted so they wouldn’t kill her. I just—”
“You survived,” he says firmly, working the cloth over my shoulders. “You both survived. And now you never have to go back.” His touch is so gentle as he washes away the evidence of everything I’ve endured.
I curl into him, my whole body shaking with the force of my tears. “When they broke our bond… I thought… I couldn’t feel you anymore and I—”
“I know.” He presses his lips to my temple. “I felt it too. But you’re mine. Bond or not.” His hands move steadily, methodically cleaning every inch of me.
The water grows cool, but I can’t stop crying. Years of carefully contained emotion pour out of me like a broken dam. Bast just holds me, murmuring soft words of comfort, his touch anchoring me to the present.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known,” he says softly. “But you don’t have to be strong right now. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
