Chapter 3

I barely had time to catch my breath when Megan began moaning again from her hospital bed.

Dean's fury doubled. The spiked rod came down across my back again.

"Are you going to save Megan or not?"

Another strike. The pain was blinding. I collapsed completely, my body giving out.

I forced the words through my teeth. "You're a bastard, Dean."

Then something impossible happened.

Megan sat up in bed. She climbed down, perfectly steady on her feet. She walked over to where I lay crumpled on the floor and placed her foot on my hand. Then she pressed down, grinding her heel into my fingers.

"Tara," she said sweetly. "So it really was you. The moment you started suffering, my pain disappeared completely."

She twisted her foot, crushing my fingers beneath it. There was no trace of weakness in her movements. No sign of the agony she'd displayed moments before.

The medical staff gasped.

"It must be true," one doctor whispered. "The witch cursed Miss Megan. How else could she recover so suddenly?"

"Exactly," another agreed. "Dozens of us examined her. We found nothing. But the moment this witch got hurt, Miss Megan was cured."

Their words fed Dean's rage. He struck me again and again with the rod.

"Tell me what spell you put on Megan."

I managed a bitter smile. "I'll tell you when you're dead, Dean."

The truth was obvious. Megan had faked everything. The illness, the pain, all of it. She'd orchestrated this entire scene to force Dean's hand against me. To make him choose her completely. To destroy any chance of reconciliation between us.

She would only stop if Dean was dead.

But Dean was blind to it. Love had made him stupid.

My refusal to confess only made him angrier. "Tara, let's see what's harder. Your stubborn mouth or my iron rod."

He tossed the weapon to one of the werewolf warriors. "Lock her in the basement. Fifty strikes every day. No food or water."

The warriors moved immediately. They stuffed cloth in my mouth to silence me and dragged me toward the door.

The warriors threw me into the basement and exchanged meaningful glances before leaving. I lay there, confused by their hesitation. Why hadn't they started the beatings immediately?

Then the door burst open again. Several rogues descended the stairs, their laughter echoing off the concrete walls.

The look in their eyes made my blood run cold. I tried to scream, but one of them lunged forward and clamped his hand over my mouth.

"Hurry up, boys."

"Make it quick. We've got money waiting."

Grimy hands pawed at my chest. A stinking mouth pressed against my face. Someone ripped my pants with a sharp tearing sound. Cold air hit my exposed skin.

Shame and fury burned through me. I opened my mouth and bit down hard on the rogue's face. His scream pierced the air.

The others froze, then started slapping me viciously, trying to pry my jaw open.

"Bitch! Let go!"

I held on with everything I had.

The injured rogue's voice rose to a roar. "Beat her! Knock her out so she can't fight back!"

The rogues hesitated for only a second. Then fists and boots rained down on me from all directions. One grabbed my hair and swung a club. It connected with my skull twice with sickening thuds.

Blood poured down my forehead. My vision blurred and darkened at the edges.

A shocked voice cut through the chaos. "Stop! What are you doing?"

Through the haze, I made out two figures approaching. Dean and Megan.

I tried to speak, to tell Dean these rogues had tried to rape me. But my mouth wouldn't form the words.

The lead rogue's eyes darted around quickly. Then he dropped to his knees in front of Dean.

"We came to rescue the witch, Alpha. She contacted us with her magic. Promised to sleep with us if we freed her."

Dean's expression turned thunderous. His eyes went cold and hard.

The old rogue's voice took on a whining quality. "She's the one who told us where to find this basement. We came like she asked, but then she changed her mind. Said we were too dirty to touch her. That's when the fight started."

Dean's gaze swept over the scene. Then landed on me, clothes torn, lying broken on the floor.

"Get out," he snarled. "All of you. Now."

The rogues scrambled up the stairs and disappeared.

Dean stared down at me with contempt and fury. "Tara, you brought this on yourself. Using your witch powers so carelessly. One day your magic will be the death of you."

He turned and left, Megan on his arm.

But Megan came back.

She crouched beside me, her face close to mine. "Did you enjoy the rogues I sent you, Tara?"

I managed a cold laugh despite the pain. Stared at her with all the hatred I could muster. Her acting had been pathetic from start to finish. But Dean was too blinded by love to see it.

Megan grabbed a fistful of my hair and spat in my face.

"Can't you see it yet? Dean loves me now. If you had any sense, you'd agree to break off the engagement yourself. Save yourself some suffering."

She stood and looked down at me with satisfaction. "What good is being a witch? You're still lying here like a dying dog."

I wanted to tell her the truth. That if the engagement ended, Dean would die too. But darkness swallowed me before I could speak.