63

                                    

                                          

BRAN 
"Who?" Both Bran and Corey asked at the same time. 
"The sorceress, of course," the oracle said, leveling a meaningful look at the both of them before turning to the door where Maria was standing. 
Bran, too, turned carefully towards her, ignoring the pain and instead, watching the expression on Maria's face to know how she was taking this. But she still wasn't looking at him—she kept her eyes on the oracle.
"Why exactly do we need her?" Corey asked and Bran turned to him, wondering if that was anger he'd heard in his friend's voice. 
The expression on Corey's face was carefully neutral. He didn't look like he was angry, but that didn't mean he actually wasn't angry. 
If he was, what reason did he have to be? Had Bran not explained to him already that Maria didn't intentionally kill his mate? 
"The hex was placed on him by a powerful sorceress and therefore, can only be removed by one equally as powerful."
"You know who put the hex on him." It was a statement from Corey and not a question. 
"Yes," the oracle said simply, then turned to Maria once more. "Come, child. Close the door."
One of the weird things about being an immortal was for someone that looked not two years older than a person, to refer to them as 'child'. 
Physically, the oracle looked to be in her late twenties and was almost as fresh-faced as Maria was. He could imagine how Maria felt about being called 'child' by her, but then again, if she knew that the oracle was thousands of years old, she wouldn't think about it anymore. 
Anyway, those were all unimportant at the moment. What did the oracle mean when she said that Maria was who they needed? 
How could it be? 
If it was Maria that was going to remove the hex from him, then that meant he would have to give her her powers back by taking off the collar and that was not going to happen. 
Which meant that he was as good as dead. 
Bran heard the door slam shut and he knew that Maria had entered the room. She drifted closer to them hesitantly. She wasn't even standing close to Bran and still, he could perceive her scent. 
That familiar smell of flowers and jasmine. It made him think of all the bright things. Of life. 
"Who put the hex on him?" Corey's voice cut through the air like a whip, surprising everyone and even Bran—but that was mostly due to the fact that he was so lost in his thoughts about Maria. 
The oracle didn't respond immediately. She walked over to the couch Corey had been sitting on before the witch came, and sat on it, clasping her fingers on her laps. 
"Four days ago, you went into the realm of Sorceri—where your presence is highly unwelcome, mind you—and captured the sorceress back." Bran was about to force his mouth open and tell her that he didn't 'capture' her, that she'd come with him willingly, when the oracle glared at him and continued, "Before you left, you were stopped by Ariti and a sorceress. Do you remember?"
Bran thought back to that day, then nodded when he remembered what she was talking about. Initially, he hadn't known that the woman standing next to Ariti was a sorceress until she'd taken his sister from him—via air. 
Familiar anger burned inside Bran as he was reminded of that day anew. Of the loss he'd borne. 

"Good," The oracle nodded. "Do you remember her hitting you?"
He scrunched his face. He didn't remember her hitting him—she hadn't even come close to him—but she had hit him with a blast. 
That counted as a hit, didn't it?