I hold my breath until the door opens. He stands there, scorned and ticked off. His fingers tap against the frame as he debates with himself about whether to let me in. I keep my head down, timidly watching the way his feet shuffle slightly when he breathes. Eventually, he steps backwards and leaves the door wide. I walk into the room slowly, shivering at the wind that blows through the balcony window.

"If you've come to lecture me about the importance of letting you train then don't waste your breath," he says as he turns away and approaches his desk.

"I just want to sleep," I whisper.

"You've not long woken up. Do witches tend to sleep a lot?"

"After big spells, maybe. It's a form of regeneration."

"Or laziness."

I bite on my lip and I fall onto the flat blanket on the floor. I twist my hands above my knees, wondering where to even begin. How can I play nice with someone I can't literally stand to be around? I watch him for a few moments as he sits in his chair and starts writing. He knows I'm observing him, but he doesn't care, he acts as though I'm not even here. He slips the piece of paper into an envelope and licks it closed, placing it inside a drawer.

"What are those?" I ask.

"None of your business."

"I don't know what else I have to do to prove myself," I say. "No matter what I do, you'll never trust me. Sophia trusts me, why can't you?"

He flicks his eyes to me for half a second before glancing down. "Because I know what it's like to belong to something bigger than yourself. To be owned, even when you think you're not. I have to be cautious about everything and everyone, if you don't get that by now then you're not as smart as I thought you were."

I smile. "You think I'm smart?"

He stares at me.

"I get that you have your responsibilities and your orders," I say. "And it must be exhausting being the leader of a whole species, but I just don't buy this cold and careless jerk portrayal. I think you care about a lot of things that you pretend not to care about, and I think that this lifestyle has led you into dark places but your human side is still there. I've seen it."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"I saw it that night at the bridge. You could have killed those wiccans at the plane, but you revealed yourself instead, you waited to let me talk to them."

"They had information, they were useful alive," he says.

"Is that what you think of me?"

"Yes."

I snort. I click my tongue against my teeth as I glance at the window. This is useless, absolutely and ridiculously useless. I can't break through his defence mechanism, it's like a sheet of steel. I take a deep breath, feeling brave, but what I'm about to say could either help me or end me.

"Sophia told me about your family," I whisper. "That they were murdered by Amara."

He blinks for a second, his eyes glazing over with a building fury. I don't know whether to keep going or run.

"I've felt that pain," I continue. "I've felt that anger. That desperate need for vengeance or justice, whatever we try to call it. We both want to stop her more than anything, so why don't we?"

"Sophia shouldn't have told you that," he says. "She had no right."

"You've killed an Elder before," I say. "How?"

He sits back in his seat, looking me right in the eye, trying to scare me. "I ripped out her heart and fed it to my horse."

He wants me to react to that, and I do, secretly, but my face remains still.

"Your coven killed an Elder before," he throws at me. "How?"

"I don't know," I say. "It was forbidden from being talked about before my generation. We know it happened, just not the how. I think my mother knew though. I believe she might have written it down in her spell book."

"The one that I seized?"

I nod. "If you give it back to me, I might be able to find something that could help us."

"No."

"I won't practise. I won't even breathe a word while reading it and you can watch me the entire time."

He lowers his eyes, tapping his pen between his fingers as his other hand rubs against his chin. I'm not sure what he's thinking about, if he's thinking about this or if he's trailed off on another subject. I can't read him, and that disturbs me. Witches can usually read others easily, it's like an instinct, we sense their energy—good or bad, but with him I am always confused.

"Do you want to stop Amara or not?" I demand. "Because every minute we waste is a minute closer to our deaths. I know you don't really care about the world or the mortals and only care about your species, but I care about everyone."

"I want to show you something."

I straighten my spine. "Alright."

"Come here."

I swallow down nerves. What if he knows? What if he's about to do to me what I'm going to do to him? As I become nearer, I wonder if I'll be fast enough to defend against whatever he's going to do to me. Maybe I deserve this. Maybe it'll be better this way. I reach the other side of the desk and he stands from his chair, circling around it. I keep my eyes on him as he positions himself next to me, he puts one hand around my wrist and doesn't speak a word.

My heart beats faster as my body begins to separate into tiny particles. I become a blur of air and space as I move slowly with time. It's not death, I know that much, he's transporting me somewhere.

It takes merely seconds until my regenerated body is back. The cruel, strong wind blows my hair and I rip my hand from his grasp so I can cradle my arms. We're standing on a sandy beach only inches from the gentle shoreline between land and ocean. The sky is still dark but I have a feeling we're a very long way from the castle.

"Where are we?"

Sam ignores me and begins walking. I jog to catch up. We walk in silence for several minutes, and I wonder if we're going to walk the entire stretch of beach. He suddenly turns towards a rocky path and starts climbing up a small hill. I scowl at the back of his head, throwing my hands and feet into the steep ascent.

At the top of the hill, I see lights. Dozens and dozens of them. They're torches, and look newly lit. As I pass them, I soon realise this place is occupied, but by who is unknown.

"Whatever happens, do not reveal yourself."

"What exactly is going to happen?" I whisper.

He ignores me, predictably, and we walk side-by-side along a path with torches either side. There is a light noise coming from up ahead, it sounds like laughter. He stops us at the end of the path, and it's then that I notice the dozens of small huts, and people. They're scattered all over, some in groups, some watching from the door of their hut, some are sat around a campfire talking loudly and others are laying on the floor, staring up at the stars. There are people of all ages, ranging from toddlers to the elderly.

"When it all went down five years ago, we conducted some discreet rescue missions. Most of the humans here fought back against witches and were due to be executed. We built them a safe place, somewhere they can watch their children grow and a place where they don't have to be afraid of witches. They spend their days building more huts, growing the camp, hunting, fishing, relaxing on the beach. This location is so secretive that I'll only allow Slayers I know and trust to guard it. We've saved over two hundred humans in the past five years, and we're always looking for more." He turns and stares at me. "So, no, I don't just care about my species."

"This is amazing," I admit, quivering from the over-whelming goose bumps forming up and down my arms. But they're not from the cold, they're a product of this. Witnessing something so incredible. "But why would you show me this?"

He goes to speak but the sound of a nearing voice calling his name cuts him off. A dark-haired man dressed in black runs at us from the left, and then suddenly it becomes clear that it isn't just humans in our radius.

"Tex," Sam says, greeting his familiar friend.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Tex says curiously. "I informed you everything was good here."

"I wanted to introduce the new Slayer to my unit," Sam says, looking at me. I stare back at him. "This is Nala, and she'll be joining you for the foreseeable."

My eyes widen, my breath slips out short and staggered. Sam's grin makes me want to smack him, or kill him.

"Nala?" Tex says. "Well, we can always use some new recruits. I've never heard you mention her before."

"Like I said, she's new to my unit," Sam says. "She still has a lot to prove. Think you can show her the ropes?"

Tex nods. "Of course."

"Good. I'll be back tomorrow."

Sam turns and starts walking away from me. I'm in shock, but more than that I'm pissed. I hold a finger up to Tex and I run after Sam.

"What the hell are you doing?" I demand. "You can't just leave me here!"

"Yes, I can. You want me to trust you, right? You want to prove yourself? Well it starts here. Guard this camp from witches and protect the humans and the Slayers from any threats."

"I can't do that without using magic," I hiss. "And Nala? I hate that name."

"First thing that popped into my head. Get used to it. Just don't do anything witch-like, you've been around us long enough to blend in."

"I can't be here. I can't do this."

"You said you care about everyone," he says. "So, show it. If you succeed then I'll return the spell book. See you tomorrow."

"But, I-"

He vanishes at the end of the pathway and I let out a quiet groan. I watch the ocean to calm myself, but it doesn't help much. I turn back around to see Tex waiting for me, and I have no idea how to act like one of them. I erase the terrified look on my face and I transform it into a scowl as I walk forwards. Looking like a Slayer is easy, but how the hell do I think like one?

"This isn't part of the plan," Vienna growls into my ear. "Get back there."

"How?" I mutter. "Do you want me to swim back? This is a test; Sam is testing me."

"Then you better pass it."

I swallow my nerves. This is either going to liberate me or expose me, and I can't yet work out which is worse.