Possession [H.S] ✓

Chapter Forty-Five

Layla.

Why hadn’t I seen this coming? Why hadn’t I seen who the actual enemy really was? I just thought that Marcus was creepy, and that Damaris was the only thing that I really needed to worry about. He was in too far with this, and he didn’t even realize it until it was too late. Now Harry’s coming, I’m locked up, and one of the people I care about will die, or maybe even both of them.

I winced slightly as my body came back to my full control, and I gasped as I felt someone touching my head. “What…?” I mumbled as my head was held down on a pile of itchy straw.

“Layla, keep still. You have glass in your head, and hair, and if I’m going to help you properly heal it then you need to stay still,” Emma’s voice sounded above me.

“I thought they killed you,” I whispered, and decided to stay still as she requested.

“They need me,” She mused, and I winced again as she pulled more glass out of my scalp from crashing into that mirror. “They only wanted to scare you, and me, by saying they would burn me at the stake.” She sighed. “This is so much bigger than I thought it was. I need Bridget and Lauren.”

“Who?” I asked her, confused. I hated not being in the loop with everything. I probably knew the least amount of anything out of everyone.

“They’re my friends, my other witch friends. Years ago our village was under attack because they were hunting the coven of witches that were hiding amongst the humans.”

“Weren’t they hunting the witches because of Zayn?” I softly asked her, and it was weird how she just paused for me to ask a question instead of me interrupting her.

“Yes, it was because of the order he put out around the time he became a Lord,” She responded, and tugged at my hair. I heard a small cling, and I assumed it was probably the glass she got from my hair falling to the floor. “Harry found the three of us hiding before the attackers knew about us, and he got us out of there. He’s kept us hidden, and protected, ever since.”

“But you’re here right now. That doesn’t seem like he’s protected you very much,” I said, slight sarcasm escaping.

She laughed quietly. “No, he’s done so much, and he couldn’t have stopped this, it’s how things were meant to be.” Her touch fell away from my head, which was stinging and most likely still bleeding, and I saw her smile. “I think that should do it.”

I slowly raised my head to look at her. There was only a small torch on the side of the wall that provided us with any light. No windows, and only one wooden door that was probably locked. The floors were made of cobblestone and covered with straw. I felt reminded of a movie I once watched with Damaris about the times where castles existed, and this looked like one of the old fashion places for prisoners.

“Where are we?” I asked her, and looked around. There was a sinking feeling in my stomach about being so closed up and no way to escape.

“The tower,” Emma responded, and slowly stood up. She wiped the hay off of her jeans and held out her hand to me to help me up.

I gave her my hand, and pulled myself to my feet. It took me a second to realize that I had given her my left hand instead of my right, and that I had all five of my fingers on that hand. “What the?” I whispered, and slowly wiggled the finger, almost sure it would break off, but it didn’t. My hand was whole again.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I fixed that while you were sleeping. You’ll need both of your hands for the things that are about to come,” Emma said, and smiled.

I laughed slightly. “Mind that you fixed the finger that my psychotic friend took off? No way. Thank you. I didn’t know if you could reattach it, but I glad you could.”