The Witch in the Woods: The Transmigration of Hazel-Anne Davis

I was halfway asleep before I even reached my room.

The walk back from the bathhouse had been slow, warm steam still curling from my shoulders, my robe barely tied at the waist. I didn't bother calling for a maid—there was nothing I needed. No one I wanted.

The air inside was cooler than I had expected, though the lanterns had already been lit. A soft glow filled the corners of the room. I stepped in barefoot, trailing damp footprints behind me, already thinking about which comb to use on my hair and whether or not I'd get through the night without dreaming of blood again.

And then something shifted.

It wasn't loud. Not dramatic. But my body reacted before my mind caught up. I dropped the folded towel from my arms and twisted left.

A knife sliced through the space where my throat had been a breath earlier.

It grazed the end of my hair instead, slicing Deming's ribbon free.

I moved on instinct. My hand shot out and caught the edge of the nearby lacquered stool, still warm from the bathhouse. I didn't hesitate. I swung hard, the weight landing squarely against something soft and living.

There was a grunt. A curse. And then the man rushed me again.

He was fast, but I'd fought faster.

He didn't expect me to meet him mid-step, didn't expect my elbow to slam into his ribs or my knee to catch his thigh before his balance could recover. I grabbed his wrist mid-slash and twisted until the blade fell. He struck out with his other hand—fists this time, not weapons—and I ducked under his swing, grabbing his collar and slamming his face into the wooden table behind me.

He dropped.

Hard.

I could see the rise and fall of his chest, but he was definitely moving.

Seriously, I was going to have to have a talk with Yan Luo about the quality of his assassins. I was getting more and more disappointed with each one that I came across.

I stood there for a second, my breathing even and not a drop of sweat on my forehead, as I watched the blood leak from his lip and pool on the polished floor. I nudged the knife away with my bare foot and kicked it into the shadows.

The door burst open a heartbeat later.

Zhu Mingyu strode into the room first, dressed in his night robe, his coat thrown on hastily. His hair was unbound. Shi Yaozu was close behind, flanked by two guards, each already reaching for their weapons. Their eyes swept the room in tandem, finding the downed man immediately, before finding me.

I must've looked like a ghost. Damp hair clinging to my neck, silk robe loose over my shoulders, standing barefoot in the middle of the room with a would-be assassin unconscious at my feet.

"Is he dead?" Yaozu asked, stepping forward as he cocked his head to the side. I knew he was expecting me to say no. I had a habit of killing them too fast for his peace of mind.

"Unfortunately not," I replied, brushing hair from my face. "I was trying to be polite."

Zhu Mingyu crouched beside the unconscious assassin, checking his pulse with clinical detachment. Blood stained the carpet in a long, smeared trail. His jaw was tense, lips pressed into a hard line.

Yaozu stood nearby, body taut, his eyes sweeping the room again like he half-expected another attacker to drop from the rafters. "We searched the halls. No signs of a second," he reported. "But someone let him in."

Mingyu's fingers paused on the man's throat. "You're certain?"

Yaozu gave a single, grim nod. "He got past three guards and an interior gate. This wasn't an amateur."

I tilted my head. "So this wasn't just a lucky break-in. Someone wanted to test the waters."

"Or rattle the cage," Mingyu muttered, standing.

I crossed my arms, an unimpressed look on my face. "Too bad they picked the wrong cage," I grumbled.

His eyes flicked to me then looked me up and down, slow and deliberate. They ran from my face to my damp collarbone, then lower, pausing briefly before snapping back up with obvious restraint.

"I should ask if you're hurt," he said. "But I assume if you were, we'd be mopping blood from the walls."

"Oh, I'm very hurt," I said, widening my eyes dramatically. "He sliced off my favorite hair ribbon."

Yaozu let out a sound suspiciously close to a snort. Mingyu just shook his head and ran a hand through his already-disheveled hair.

"Take him to the underground chamber," he said, the words hardening.

I blinked.

"Have you been keeping secrets from me, Mingyu?" I asked lightly, head cocked to the side.

It didn't bother me—him having secrets. After all, I had my fair share of them too.

"Not intentionally," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "More like… a room that no one knows about except for a select few. We use it when… diplomacy fails."

My eyes lit up like a child presented with a basket of candy. "Oh, please," I begged, stepping forward until I was nearly flush with him. "Please tell me that you have a hidden torture chamber. Please, please, please."

"You know that's not a normal reaction, right?" he said with a soft, disbelieving laugh. "I just told you we're taking a man down to be broken, not to tea."

"Meh. It's my reaction," I purred. "And it would be so much more fun to break a man than have tea with him."

I didn't care that my green robe was basically open to my belly button or that my hair was still dripping wet from my bath. I wanted to be where Mingyu and Yaozu were going. I wanted to see all the hidden rooms in this manor.

"I'll be good," I promised, grabbing Mingyu's arm with both hands, my breasts pressing unapologetically against his bicep. "Maybe I can even get him to break faster. Pretty please… with a cherry on top?"

His groan was low, full of that specific kind of pain that came from knowing better and still not resisting. "You're impossible."

"And yet," I murmured, rising on my toes, "here you are."

Mingyu didn't say no. He didn't pull away. He didn't remind me that I was still in a soaked robe or that I should probably be resting.

He just looked at Yaozu and muttered, "Get her a cloak."

"I have a dagger," Yaozu replied dryly. "Would that suffice?"

"Oh, I love it when he pretends to be mean," I whispered to Mingyu. "It's adorable."

Yaozu's brow twitched. "Don't test me tonight, my lady."

"No promises."

Mingyu sighed again, the corner of his mouth twitching despite himself. "Both of you—stop."

I grinned. I had what I wanted.

I was going to see the chamber.

And tonight?

Tonight was going to be fun.