Inside the witches' cavern, Anda and Damian's chamber was like a grand prison enclosure. It was adequately lit with an old magic lantern in all four corners of the room, with two massive witches' paintings in the corner near the door standing tall. Damian lay on a queen-size feather bed with leather silky skin sheets and old cotton-down red pillows as he watched the walls embellished with witches' masterpieces in magnificent oak wood frames, the kind he usually sees only in the art galleries.
"Why the hell did you keep the most important thing from me?" Anda shouted before closing the door. She was blind with rage and disappointment, and surely she could kick his ass later.
"Anda…"
"Don't you Anda me, Damian! I am not happy!"
"Please-"
"Are you crazy? I am your mate, and you kept that from me for years?"
"I have my reasons-"