Doing anything for witches, especially those not in Highridge Coven, will only have one outcome—it won’t be good, so my question burns my chest. But with Dad’s life on the line and Elias and Graham injured, as well as an entire pack to defend, she can ask anything of me, as long as my entire family makes it out alive.
“What do you want?”
“You have dealings with Highridge Coven,” she states, glancing in the direction of the town of Banff and the coven residing there.
Our “dealings” are an accord, decided generations ago when the two groups refused to concede territory to one another.Eventually, our ancestors wanted it over with and created the treaty that’s still followed to ensure continued peace for all sides. Without it, territorial battles will break out, and lives will most likely be lost.
“And you don’t?”
The witch’s smile is too wide, too sickly to be comforting. Not that anything of her rat-like appearance is comforting. “Their protection barrier keeps out anyone not of their coven, other witches included. Breaking through will initiate a war we have no interest in fighting. But we understand your deal allows you to get closer to the coven than we’ll ever be.”
“What do you need?” Another glance at Dad, who’s breathing deeply.
“We’d like you to retrieve a woman for us.”
“Retrieve.”Apprehension drips from my tone. There will be no “retrieving” anyone from Highridge. It’ll be kidnapping and when the coven realizes what we’ve done, no number of treaties will save our hides. This is a death march.
The witch bobs her head. “Get us the girl, and I’ll remove the black magick from your father’s body and blood. Consider it a trade of services.”
Even with Dad’s life on the line, I have no fucking idea how to kidnap someone from the coven. Kidnap someoneperiod.
“Who’s the witch?”
Her thin lips spread, her obvious amusement at my reluctant torment twisting my insides. It’s the smile of a winner because she knew trapping my father would ensure my cooperation.
“Carina Hargrove.”
Hargrove—no!She’s not wanting just any witch, but the High Priestess’s daughter—their fucking covenprincess. Morgan, the High Priestess, won’t let her go. This won’t result in a conflict, but an all-out brutal war. The treaty will be null. Morgan will undoubtedly do anything to get her own kin back.
My father moans, the timing too perfect to be a coincidence.
“You have a week,” the witch continues, even without having agreed to her terms.
Yet.
“Seven days until we return. Have Carina in hand and your father will be as good as he was earlier.”
Only a matter of days to sneak into a coven guarded by spells and who knows what else that’ll serve my ass up on a platter to steal the goddamnHigh Priestess’s daughter. Right.This will go splendidly. If I make it out alive, it’ll be a miracle.
“Deal.”
With Dad’s life on the line, there is no other option, though the logistics of all this still evade me.
She waves her hand, and the black tendrils slowly fade away from view. Based on his gasp as he slumps forward, back bowed, she didn’t heal him, but hid the magick.
“Glad you’ve seen the correct path, young Alpha. I hope, after this, our paths cross again.”
Only if I get to kill you.
Her cloak twirls as she spins away, encompassing much of my vision before she and the other four witches disappear into thin air, leaving the small clearing feeling not only desolate, but rigid and still. Like one wrong breath will make them return.
Until Dad coughs, and I drop to my knees beside him. Xander and Conan each take a side and throw an arm around their shoulders to lift him between them.
“Ryder.” His voice is scratchy. “Don’t do this. You will strike a war with the coven and end decades of peace. Not for me.”
I ignore him and shuffle Conan out of the way, instead instructing, “Run ahead. Tell Marissa and Amos what happened. Get his cabin prepared.”
Conan shifts back to a wolf and takes off into the trees. Dad’s head falls, his energy gone. With a grim glance at Xander, we carry my father home.
