Chapter 47

ALEXANDROS T urning down the path, I head deeper into the trees that border the campus. The branches grow thicker here, the air is filled with the scent of pine, but it is not enough to mask the witch’s scent. “Why are you following me, Professor Drakos?” Her voice carries from the left of me, and I watch the figure ahead vanish into thin air. I stop and face the direction of the sound. “You were always a very gifted witch, Enora.” She snorts. “A simple parlor trick.” “Why are you hiding in the shadows? You have nothing to fear from me.” Her musical laugh rings through the air between us. “All witches fear you, Alexandros.” I roll my neck, trying to stave off the centuries-old hurt that still rises to the surface whenever I recall the extent of their treachery. Sufficiently calmer, I speak. “As they should.” She hums softly, and I sense her drawing closer. “The sting of their betrayal has not lessened through the ages, no?” “Not for some of us. There are others who were far too quick t