The Frozen Witch Book One
riveted on him as I saw a
flash of metal.
    It was a gun.
    Oh god, it was a gun.
    Tears ran down my cheeks, bathing my
shaking face as I sobbed wildly. “What’s going on? Who are you?
Please, if there’s any way—”
    He stopped. That flash of metal I’d seen in
his hand somehow disappeared. He took a step towards me. I saw him
outlined in full this time, even though no one had stepped into the
room and handily turned on the lights.
    His body… it was almost as if it began to
glow. That, or the symbols along my hands and down my arms suddenly
became all the brighter.
    Stacy had been right, and even though this
was a terrible time to pause and note it – Franklin Saunders was
impossibly good-looking. With emphasis on the impossible. He just
seemed… realer. Even the darkened room behind him seemed to drop
off into insignificance compared to him.
    It wasn’t just that his body was large, his
muscles practically rippling under his tight suit. It was way more
than that.
    I caught sight of the flash in his eyes.
And I do mean flash. For, in an instant, it looked as if his irises
turned into torch beams, or someone shoved a candle behind them and
lit them up from the inside out.
    If I’d shaken before, it was absolutely
nothing compared to the convulsions that tore through my body now.
My shoulders banged against the wall so quickly and with such a
rapid beat, it would have sounded like somebody playing a drum.
    “Finish your question,” he demanded, voice
gravelly.
    “What?”
    “Finish your question,” he said once more
through a growl.
    “What question?”
    “You were about to beg me. You were about
to ask if there is anything you can do to save your life. Now,
finish your question.”
    My heart stilled. It wasn’t that I calmed.
It was like my heart was about to give up.
    I was way beyond terrified now. Way beyond
simple fear.
    There was a man with glowing eyes staring at
me and threatening me in the dark.
    I wasn’t stupid enough to pinch myself in
case I was dreaming.
    This was no dream.
    A point that was proven as he took another
step towards me, his body once more seeming realer than everything
else I had ever seen. Every man, all of them, seemed nothing more
than a mere image smeared across reality compared to Franklin
Saunders.
    “Finish your question,” he growled once
more.
    My jaw practically unhinged as it opened
with a jolt. “Is there… is there….” I couldn’t push it
out.
    Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t the kind of
girl to deny a torturer what they were looking for. The exact
opposite, in fact. I didn’t have a backbone. Sure, sometimes I had
a loud mouth, but I wasn’t courageous. Never would be.
    And yet, despite the fact this guy was
ostensibly offering me a lifeline, I couldn’t clutch it. Because I
couldn’t push those damn words out of my mouth.
    Again he leaned down. I watched him latch
two hands onto his pants to pull them taut to offer his knees room
as he knelt down beside me. On his haunches, with his arms propped
on the top of his legs, he faced me, little more than a ruler’s
length from my face. It offered me the perfect perspective as I saw
his lips press open once more. “Finish your sentence,” he said,
each word a blast of air against my sallow, tear-streaked
cheeks.
    Something in me snapped. “Is there
anything I can do?”
    “To save yourself,” he
prompted.
    “What?”
    “Say it,” he bellowed, voice bottoming out
with such a resonant clap it was as if a bolt of lightning had
shaken through the wall behind me.
    I whimpered. “Is there anything I can do…
is there anything I can do… to save myself?”
    There, I’d said it.
    I waited – waited as he continued to assess
me. Several times, his luminescent eyes darted down and locked on
the symbols still playing across my flesh.
    They were brighter than ever. In fact, with
every passing second, they became lighter and lighter, the runes
moving more frantically like flames being pushed around by

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