“On it,” Menace said, and disappeared into the dark, his boots silent on the scorched earth.
Bronc turned to me, and for once in his life, he was at a loss for words. “Aspen…” He shook his head, pride and awe and something like fatherly terror all at once. “You did good, kid. Real good.”
I wanted to say thank you, but my throat had closed up. I just squeezed Papa’s hand until my knuckles ached.
“Time to get you home,” Bronc said, and between him and Archon, they lifted Papa off the altar, cradling him like a child. I followed, dizzy and empty and still charged with whatever power I’d unleashed. My hands shook. I’d never felt more alive, or more scared of what I was.
We left the clearing behind. The coven sisters didn’t follow. As we crossed back through the trees, I heard their wailing start—a song of grief and fear that carried all the way to the highway.
We got Papa into the van, Menace at the wheel and Bronc crammed in the back with Archon. I curled up next to Papa, my head on his shoulder, not caring that I was covered in sweat and blood and probably half-crazy.
He didn’t say a word, just stroked my hair, over and over, as if to reassure himself I was still there.
Oscar materialized at my feet, his fur bristling with static. “Miss,” he said, in a voice I’d never heard from him before, “you have just rewritten the rules of witchcraft. I suggest you do not do that again without warning me.”
I almost laughed, but it came out as a choked sob. “I don’t even know what I did, Oscar.”
“Neither do they,” he replied, glancing at Archon. “But I suspect he does.”
Archon met my eyes across the van. There was pride there, but also something else—a warning.
“We’ll talk soon,” he said, and I shivered, not sure if I was more excited or terrified.
I closed my eyes, breathing in Papa’s scent, letting the bond hum between us. His heart beat strong and sure under my palm. We were alive. We’d survived.
But nothing would ever be the same.
We got to the house just before dawn. Doc was waiting, medical bag open, sleeves rolled up. He didn’t even blink when Archon handed Papa over and said, “He needs to be cleaned up, but the wound is sealed.”
Doc took one look, nodded, and got to work. “I’ve seen weirder,” he muttered, but I doubted it.
Oscar and I stood in the hall, watching through the cracked door as Doc cleaned Papa’s wounds and wiped away the worst of the blood. Archon hovered at my shoulder, a presence I couldn’t ignore.
When Doc finished, he beckoned me in. Papa. lay propped against the pillows, looking more alive than I’d thought possible.
“Hey, Sunshine,” he whispered, his voice gravelly but his smile perfect. “You saved my life.”
I pressed my forehead to his and cried for the first time in hours. “I almost killed half the forest to do it.”
He just laughed. “That’s my girl.”
Archon cleared his throat. “You both need rest. But when you’re ready, Aspen, we have much to discuss. About your powers. About your family and the likelihood that the Council is going to call an inquiry.”
I looked up at him, feeling the old fear slide back into place. But this time, I wasn’t alone.
I had Papa. I had my pack. And apparently, I had the literal Angel King for a father figure. I nodded, wiping my eyes. “I’ll be ready.”
He smiled—a real, dazzling smile—and in that moment, I thought things were going to be okay.
But first, I crawled into bed next to Papa, wrapped my arms around him, and let myself drift into the sweetest, deepest sleep I’d ever known.
Tomorrow, the world could wait.
The next morning, I woke to the sound of a blood pressure cuff inflating on Papa’s arm and the low, steady voice of Doc muttering numbers under his breath. Sunlight blazed through the bedroom windows, painting stripes over the mess of blankets and pillows across the bed. Oscar sat sentry at the headboard, his fur slicked and neat as if he’d spent the entire night prepping for a royal visit. The grimoire—my mother’s, and now mine—rested on the nightstand, its battered clasp glinting in the sunlight.
Papa looked almost normal. His neck was wrapped in a loose bandage, and his hand found mine the second he spotted me awake. The mate bond purred and hummed between us, not as electric as it had been after the blast, but settled, warm, alive.
Doc finished with the cuff and made a note on his phone. “You’ll live,” he said, one eyebrow raised at the two of us. “But you need to rest for a couple days. No heavy lifting, no moonlight strolls, no…” he made a vague gesture that I knew meant sex “…vigorous exercise.”
