POV: Freya
My lips parted as the witch entered the room, and I stared at her with a flood of questions. But no words came out, and for a moment, I wished it was all just a dream. In frustration, I clenched my fist so tightly that a drop of blood trickled down my fingers. It was no dream. The young witch behind me was radiating excitement, barely able to contain herself.
Although my small wound healed quickly, Elijah had enough time to catch the scent of my blood. His gaze, which had been fixed on the witches until then, snapped to me, and he frowned as he inspected me from head to toe with his gaze. I couldn't return his stare because my eyes were locked on the witch approaching us with a tray of cinnamon rolls.
As she came closer, my suspicion grew stronger. She resembled a younger ver
