“Is it my turn to ask the questions yet?”
I tilt my head in response.
“What happened to get your father tied up in black magick? It’s Dark—capital D—and forbidden. It’s the most perilous form of magick witches can do. Tell me how a shifter is encased in it.”
To us, there’s one kind of magick. Magick—that’s it. Learning there’s varieties is worrisome.
“Two nights ago, witches attacked my father and two others out for patrol. The two returned to camp, Dad didn’t. He was trapped by them. They didn’t smell like you guys and definitely didn’t act like your mother. She said within the week, he’ll die if I didn’t get them what they need.”
Her falling expression guts me. Fear tinges the scent my home is now bathed in, souring it. She should never be scared of anything and should know only safety and goodness and comfort. Not stress and dismay and horror. My wolf wants to bundle her up and get her away from all this.
But that isn’t why she’s here, no matter the game fate is playing.
“Me,” she whispers, concluding the ending of my story. Her hands slip from her hips, arms heavy by her side.
With a hard-pressed mouth, I jerk my chin, hating every fibre of my being for being the one to deliver this news. “They didn’t say why, only that they wanted you, and I have a week to get it done. When I hand you over, they’ll save him.”
And this is where she explodes my ass with magick and saves her own hide.
Unfocused lavender eyes shift from me to Dad’s cabin and then to the forest beyond, in the direction of the town. She gives me her back and rubs her face before dragging nails through her hair. “I think I know why,” she murmurs after a moment, so low it’s nearly lost to the breeze. “Black magick—Twilight…” Now shedefinitelyisn’t speaking to me. “But why? My background isn’t like Harlow’s…” Her words continue fading into a jumble even my enhanced hearing doesn’t catch. Eventually, she twirls, her feet kicking up fallen leaves in a burst of energy. “Ryder, wehaveto tell my mom.”
My chest puffs, displaying to her the force that’ll be used if necessary. “You can’t leave. I won’t risk him.”
“You’re not listening!” she barks, practically stomping her foot too. “I know what’s happening. The people you encountered are a problem we’re been dealing with. They’re planning something and this whole thing with you guys must be part of it.”
The incomplete bond between us constricts, urging me to keep her safe, despite being the one who’s endangering her. It leaves me standing on thorns, asking—pleading—for a response acceptable for my wolf. “What are they after?”
“To turn all witches Dark. Why me, I’m not sure. I don’t fit in with the plans Harlow mentioned. But this is why we need to tell Mom. She’ll know what to do next.”
Next? The only “next” there is involves Dad getting well. This is the witches’ war, nothing we should be part of.
Protect.
The fuckingnîkâkîstisbond.Ifshe’s telling the truth, I could be leading her straight to her death, which makes me the worst fucking mate.
“Look,” she bursts in an exasperated tone, “I don’t know everything that’s going on, but from what you said, it sounds like you met Twilight Grove Coven. They believe in an upcoming war between the Celestials.”
The Celestials are beings who make up Heaven and Hell, angels of all orders, Upper and Lower demons. Creatures never seen or met, nor are they written into any pack history. We’ve heard whispers of their influences on the world, but it’s not our business and yet another reason to avoid mortals. The Celestials leave us be, and we don’t go seeking them out.
“A war.”
“Yes,” she practically exclaims, bouncing on her feet. “Twilight Grove is under the impression that all witches must forsake the Goddess and follow Darkness over Light.”
“Where do you come in?”
Her bouncing stops like a bubble popped. “I don’t know…and that’s what’s freaking me out. Because they’re targeting the heirs of the four original families. Four elements. Four original witches. Four main covens, each initiated by one bloodline. But Mom isn’t one of the four, so I don’t know why me exactly.”
Protect.
Stealing the faceless Carina Hargrove was one thing. It was to save Dad, but now that Carina is a real person standing in front of me, now that she’s my mate, unbonded or not…Fuck, how am I supposed to do this?
“They’ve done this already, to my friend Harlow. She’s the only one remaining of her bloodline.”
“What happened to her?”
“They won…kinda. It’s a long story, but they succeeded in making her Dark. Then she lost all her powers, got taken by a vampire, later regained her powers—Dark included—and in a showdown, transitioned into a vampire herself. Now, she’s half and half, and please don’t ask me to explain, ’cause we’re all still working that out.”
The only relevant part about her story is that this Harlow isn’t dead. But her method of survival was vampirism. Carina won’t have that option.
