Illusions: Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (The Seekers Book 1) by Carina Wilder Page A
Authors: Carina Wilder
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comfortable little couch which seemed to be the featured point of Hedy’s small main room. Never had Sera encountered such a piece of furniture; its fabric and structure seemed to welcome her weary bones into its clutches, soothing her and forcing her into a state of relaxation.
Hedy was right, of course; it would do no good to try and enter the Guild’s domain unarmed. She needed to give herself the best chance at saving Circe, and at letting them know that their practice of stealing away women was beyond unacceptable. In her mind she would rise up before them and frighten those men into submission; teach them the meaning of a strong woman.
But none of that could occur until she came into her own. It was one thing to cast little spells of healing, or even to see through Nyx’s eyes. But she would need more than that.
Her mind drifted to the memory of her last moment of transference, of seeing the world through Nyx’s eyes; that vantage point which had allowed her the sight of the tall, naked man in the woods. The stranger who’d been friendly, unlike most other men. Something about him was so…different.
Well, he was enormous. He was muscular. And he was strikingly handsome, of course. She wondered if those aspects coloured her overall impression of him—perhaps she was putting too much stock in his looks, and assuming that because he looked good, he was good.
Perhaps he’d been to her house in order to assess it and to tell his friends in the Guild what he knew: that its doors were weak, that its only inhabitants were two women.
It seemed unlikely, somehow. Sera was no mind-reader, but she trusted her instincts. And while he was perhaps a strange man, he didn’t strike her as evil. If anything, he’d struck her as lost.
And then there was the man Paxx, the one she’d met at the meeting: he was in the Guild. But he didn’t seem cruel, either. If someone had forced her, Sera would even have confessed that he rivalled Rohan on the attractiveness front, minus his membership in the Guild itself. But she had believed Paxx when he’d indicated that he wanted to help. Perhaps there was good among those men, after all. And perhaps an alliance with those who weren’t loyal to the Guild would be a boon for the Sisterhood.
“Nyx,” she said softly. The ferret dashed towards the couch, leaping up and onto her lap, where he curled up into a long, black spiral. She stroked his head as his eyes closed, his sides puffing in and out. He was in a state of stress, she could see. His moods reflected hers, always.
She wondered how Obsidian and Circe were faring, and if the Guild was allowing them to remain close to one another. She hoped so.
Chapter 12
The Compound
C irce sat on a crooked stump inside the small prison cell, the world revealed to her only when one of the men had pulled the hood from her head. In the distance a raven called out. Obsidian. Good. At least he wasn’t dead.
She’d been sitting casually at the table in their small house when its door had been torn off its hinges, eliciting a loud caw from Obsidian and a small scream from Circe herself. Her gifts of intuition had failed her as the man had come at her, and she’d only managed to ring the village’s bell twice before he’d pinned her arms behind her back.
He was large and had advanced rapidly, grabbing her by the arms with one enormous hand and throwing a cloth hood over her head with the other. And then he had walked her over what seemed like miles of terrain, to a strange building in the woods where he’d handed her off to someone else.
The other man had seemed to take her arm reluctantly. Though she couldn’t see him, she could feel that he exuded kindness, and Circe found herself wondering how such a person would end up in a group of thugs.
When at last he’d removed the hood she saw that she was alone in her cell, though she knew that other women inhabited the prison. To think that this structure had been built solely for their
Hedy was right, of course; it would do no good to try and enter the Guild’s domain unarmed. She needed to give herself the best chance at saving Circe, and at letting them know that their practice of stealing away women was beyond unacceptable. In her mind she would rise up before them and frighten those men into submission; teach them the meaning of a strong woman.
But none of that could occur until she came into her own. It was one thing to cast little spells of healing, or even to see through Nyx’s eyes. But she would need more than that.
Her mind drifted to the memory of her last moment of transference, of seeing the world through Nyx’s eyes; that vantage point which had allowed her the sight of the tall, naked man in the woods. The stranger who’d been friendly, unlike most other men. Something about him was so…different.
Well, he was enormous. He was muscular. And he was strikingly handsome, of course. She wondered if those aspects coloured her overall impression of him—perhaps she was putting too much stock in his looks, and assuming that because he looked good, he was good.
Perhaps he’d been to her house in order to assess it and to tell his friends in the Guild what he knew: that its doors were weak, that its only inhabitants were two women.
It seemed unlikely, somehow. Sera was no mind-reader, but she trusted her instincts. And while he was perhaps a strange man, he didn’t strike her as evil. If anything, he’d struck her as lost.
And then there was the man Paxx, the one she’d met at the meeting: he was in the Guild. But he didn’t seem cruel, either. If someone had forced her, Sera would even have confessed that he rivalled Rohan on the attractiveness front, minus his membership in the Guild itself. But she had believed Paxx when he’d indicated that he wanted to help. Perhaps there was good among those men, after all. And perhaps an alliance with those who weren’t loyal to the Guild would be a boon for the Sisterhood.
“Nyx,” she said softly. The ferret dashed towards the couch, leaping up and onto her lap, where he curled up into a long, black spiral. She stroked his head as his eyes closed, his sides puffing in and out. He was in a state of stress, she could see. His moods reflected hers, always.
She wondered how Obsidian and Circe were faring, and if the Guild was allowing them to remain close to one another. She hoped so.
Chapter 12
The Compound
C irce sat on a crooked stump inside the small prison cell, the world revealed to her only when one of the men had pulled the hood from her head. In the distance a raven called out. Obsidian. Good. At least he wasn’t dead.
She’d been sitting casually at the table in their small house when its door had been torn off its hinges, eliciting a loud caw from Obsidian and a small scream from Circe herself. Her gifts of intuition had failed her as the man had come at her, and she’d only managed to ring the village’s bell twice before he’d pinned her arms behind her back.
He was large and had advanced rapidly, grabbing her by the arms with one enormous hand and throwing a cloth hood over her head with the other. And then he had walked her over what seemed like miles of terrain, to a strange building in the woods where he’d handed her off to someone else.
The other man had seemed to take her arm reluctantly. Though she couldn’t see him, she could feel that he exuded kindness, and Circe found herself wondering how such a person would end up in a group of thugs.
When at last he’d removed the hood she saw that she was alone in her cell, though she knew that other women inhabited the prison. To think that this structure had been built solely for their
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