"Here," Luke said, handing me a cup of hot tea, wanting me to warm up after being out in the cold for so long. He sat on the sofa beside me, drinking a tea of his own. "What are you thinking?"
"Whether or not I should believe Maggie's nonsense."
"You know, being a witch is not that... bad," he said, but even I could feel the uncertainty of his words. "That means you have an ability inside you that you have yet to discover. It's good in certain ways that you'll be able to defend yourself from all the dangers around us."
"Do you hate witches?" My grip on my cup of tea tightened as I inquired. My furrowed brows and downturned mouth caught my attention as I glanced at my reflection in my tea.
"Only the black ones."
