I open my eyes and see a ceiling I don't recognise. My whole body hurts when I try to move on the bed... Where the fuck am I? The last thing I remember was that party, the fairies, the golden wildcat, and... Yes, I did go through the tree, and someone took me.

Those beautiful hazel eyes.

My vision is still a bit blurry but I look around the room. It's surprisingly cosy – warm, muted colours, adorned with tasteful paintings of landscapes and a few well-placed potted plants. A soft rug covers the floor, and a small fireplace adds a gentle glow to the space. There's a door and a window, both closed, making the room feel slightly suffocating. Just then, my gaze falls upon the figure of a man, elegantly reclined in an armchair, glancing at me.

I immediately straighten up, recognising the gorgeous hazel eyes, the full lips, the lustrous mane of tousled blonde hair... It's him! The warlock... Adrian. If that's even his name. "What the fuck!" I exclaim, jumping off the bed. "Why am I here?" I mumble, panting for air. I can only think about that other warlock; if he's coming, there's no way I can escape now... Just recalling the sensation of the air turning to icy needles, his empty eyes, and the veins in his chest, is enough to make me tremble.

"Easy there," Adrian says softly, standing up from his chair and beginning to approach me slowly, showing me his palms as he shushes me. "I'm not going to hurt you," he adds with a velvety, calm voice that almost makes me want to believe him.

I back away from him and dash toward the door. I try to turn the knob, but it's locked. I try again, frustration mounting as it remains the same. I shake it in vain, desperation building.

"Don’t be scared," Adrian says, his voice tinged with something like sadness. "There’s no way out, but it’ll be okay. Please, sit on the bed. I'll explain everything. You're safe here."

"Safe?" I scoff, my emotions spiralling out of control. "You fucking kidnapped me! You're a monster! You are just waiting for that other warlock to arrive to kill me… He’s coming, isn’t he?!" I shout, tears rolling down my face.

Adrian doesn't answer my questions, which only infuriates me more. Panic claws its way into my chest with sharp talons. Shit. This time, I’m done for.

I keep trying the door when I feel a sudden movement behind me – Adrian is there already, his body inches from mine. Swiftly, he grabs me by the waist and turns me around, his hands gentle as they cup my face. I watch in a mixture of exhilaration and apprehension as he places a wooden necklace around my neck.

Instantly, a calming sensation washes over me, and for some reason, I sense the necklace is exercising power over me. "What are you doing to me?" I whisper, my voice filled with uncertainty.

"Relax, Eileen," Adrian smiles mysteriously, yet reassuringly. "It's just something to keep you from losing control."

As much as I hate to admit it, part of me wants to believe him. 

"Listen," Adrian says, his hands held high in a non-threatening gesture. "I don't want to harm you, Eileen. Let’s talk, okay?"

He slowly backs away until he is sitting again on the armchair, his deep blue suit impeccably smart. A smug smile appears on his lips as he looks me up and down. "So, it must've been a hell of a party, huh?"

I glance down and realise the skirt of my gown is completely gone, leaving me standing there in my underwear. Blushing furiously, I rush to the bed and cover myself with the sheets.

"You bastard!" I snap, but Adrian simply chuckles in response.

"You're a warlock, aren't you?" I ask him, looking straight into his eyes. His face turns serious, a stark contrast to the mischievous glint that had just been present.

"You could say so," he replies vaguely.

"Do you enjoy killing witches?" I say, my anger flaring. He doesn’t respond so I continue. "Is he coming? Your master... That... man."

"Who?" Adrian raises an eyebrow, feigning ignorance.

“The other warlock!” I scream, desperate. He’s playing games with me.

“I have no idea who you’re talking about, Eileen,” Adrian replies, shifting in his seat. “I don’t have a master,” he says. “I’m not a dog.”

"Stop playing dumb! You were his scout, weren't you?" I accuse, my voice trembling with rage. "You were biding your time until that other man, that… thing arrived and attacked me!"

Something in Adrian's expression shifts, as if he suddenly realises what I am talking about. Surprise flickers in his hazel eyes before being replaced by annoyance. "Oh, you mean him," he huffs, rolling his eyes. "Oh, no, dear Eileen, you got it all wrong..."

Leaning forward in the chair, Adrian continues, "I was not with that other warlock. That was just a terrible coincidence."

"I don't believe you," I scoff, crossing my arms defensively.

"Who do you think shot him with that arrow then? You're welcome for saving you, by the way," he retorts, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

The memory of the arrow piercing that creature's arm flashes through my mind, and I can't help but shudder. He's right; I remember it clearly now. Could it be that he was the one who shot the arrow? Is Adrian telling the truth?

As I hesitate, Adrian seizes the opportunity to move closer to me, sitting at the foot of the bed. My instincts kick in, and I back away from him, hoisting the sheet even higher, as if it could protect me from him. "Don't touch me," I warn, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Adrian grins smugly at my words, tilting his head so a lock of golden hair falls onto his forehead. I scold myself internally for thinking he's attractive, especially in this situation. "I wouldn't dream of touching a woman who doesn't want me to," he replies smoothly, his eyes twinkling with mischief, "though that rarely happens."

I shoot him a deadly look, wondering what the hell is wrong with this guy. But then, his eyes soften, and he says simply, "I just want to talk to you, Eileen."

With a deep breath, I sit across from Adrian, clutching the sheet tightly around me, my makeshift barrier. My heart hammers in my chest, echoing the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. "Why are you doing this?" I ask, my voice a mere whisper against the silence that engulfs us. "Are you... are you going to kill me?"

Adrian's hazel eyes, a deep well of secrets, meet mine, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still. "Of course not. That would be a shame," he replies, his voice smooth, almost soothing, yet it does little to quell the storm within me. "Besides, if that were my intention, don't you think I would have done it by now?"

His logic, twisted as it may seem, strikes a chord within me. I frown, pressing further, seeking answers. "Who are you, exactly? Why did you show up at my house this morning?"

“About that,” Adrian sighs. "I'm sorry about lying to you," he says.

"You don't really know my dad, do you?” I ask. He simply shakes his head to confirm my statement.

I get a bit closer to him in the bed. “How do you know his name? How did you find us?" My questions tumble out.

Adrian runs his fingers through his tousled mane and he looks at me intensely, then gets up, smoothening his nice suit. "I was there looking for clues," Adrian admits, his voice carrying a hint of reluctance. "I wasn't sure you were a witch until I saw you go through the tree..." His words hang in the air, an incomplete puzzle that my mind races to solve.

"What are you talking about?” I blurt out, confused. “Clues for what?" I ask, my confusion mounting with each revelation.

Adrian pauses, considering his next words carefully. "When was the last time you talked to your father?" he inquires, his question seemingly out of the blue.

A chill runs down my spine. Why would he ask that?

I recall the last conversation I had with my father; it was three days ago, over the phone. We had a big fight. It was a conversation I've replayed in my mind over and over, each time hoping for a different outcome. I regretted certain things I said, and I had hoped to make amends on my birthday, but...

"Why are you asking about my dad?" I whisper, the question barely escaping my lips as I wrap the sheet tighter around myself, a vain attempt to shield my vulnerability from the man who has become both my captor and my only link to understanding the chaos that surrounds me. What if something had happened to him...? So many events unfolded around me that I barely had time to think about my dad...

Adrian jumps to his feet and begins pacing in front of me, his anxious energy filling the room. He stops abruptly, his eyes trained on mine.

"I've been trailing behind this warlock, Irina Scholomance," he says, his voice calm but determined. "I found pictures of your dad and your house in her possession." My stomach twists into a knot as I try to process this information.

"Keep going," I urge him, my hands shaking.

"I have reason to believe she's holding him captive," Adrian says, his tone serious.

My heart plummets, a sickening weight crushing my chest. What? My hands quiver at my sides, body frozen in disbelief. How...when...? My father is just an ordinary man – why would anyone kidnap him? Guilt and horror wash over me like a tidal wave as I absorb the news. My entire body trembles with shock as I turn to Adrian, demanding answers.

"What do you mean he was taken?" My voice shakes with emotion, my mind struggling to comprehend the situation. "How do you know? Did you see it happen?"

Adrian sits back down on the edge of the bed, his hazel eyes locking onto mine. "I'm sorry," he says, sincerity etched across his face.

"I found your house two days ago," Adrian began. "I searched everywhere for William, even went to his job, but he was nowhere to be found. They hadn’t seen him there either." My heart dropped as I listened to his words. "I lied because I wasn't sure if you knew about his disappearance," he continued. I shook my head vehemently, refusing to accept it.

Is this some sick trap, a twisted form of torture before he kills me?

"I don't believe you,” I say. “It's not possible! Who is this Irina Scholomance, and why would she take my dad?" I challenge, voice quivering. He interrupts me, cutting through my desperation with blunt words: "He's the father of a witch, isn't he?"

I pause, hesitating. Perhaps there was more to my father than I ever imagined. I've been wondering if he knew about my being a witch, or that Mum was royalty... and a murderer. Bloody hell. How did everything become so complicated?

Adrian moves closer to me on the bed, our knees nearly touching. "I believe the reason your father was taken has something to do with you."

"Me?" I stammer, incredulous. "What, she kidnapped him to get to me? That doesn't make any sense!"

Adrian's gaze hardens, the predatory glint in his hazel eyes more pronounced. "Irina Scholomance is a notorious warlock," he says, his tone laced with urgency. "While I don't know yet why she kidnapped your father, I believe there's something behind it, and I need to know what it is."

Swallowing hard, I ask the question that's been gnawing at me: "Do you know where my dad is?"

"I don't know where Irina is keeping William," Adrian admits. "But I'll find out. I just need your help."

I raise an eyebrow in surprise. "Why would you need my help?" I ask, suspicious.

He offers a charming smile, the kind that could disarm anyone. "Glad you asked, my sweet Eileen." He reclines on the bed, hands behind his head, looking as if he doesn't have a care in the world. "You see, there's one thing a warlock can't do," he continues, pausing for dramatic effect. "And that is getting inside Witchwood."

I blink, taken aback.

I don’t like where this is going.