Kane’s eyes snapped to mine. “No, I honestly have no interest in the Morgan girl,” he looked back to his father, “but you will remember that I’ll do this anyway for the sake of the coven, and I’ll make sure she feels the same for me in return.”
And the wild thing in my chest splintered and peeled apart, unable to make sense as to what was happening around me.
“Very well,” Augustine Pruitt announced. “The Morgan girl is under Kane’s protection. And, son, do what you need to do to make sure she initiates into Sacred Sea by Mabon.”
Make sure she initiates into Sacred Sea? They’re forcing her?
“No, this isn’t right!” I yelled out inside the Chamber. “What’s so different about her? Why does she need protection? Why doesn’t she get a choice like the others?!”
My vision obscured, and I looked to Agatha, who stared back with horror in her eyes. Perhaps she thought the same as the rest of the town, that I was going mad. That my shadow-blood would take over, and history would repeat itself. But this decision was clearly against what we stood for, and Fallon’s freedom was being taken—her greatest fear. Agatha had to feel the same and understand these outbursts I could no longer control.
But Agatha slowly shook her head, begging me not to cause a scene. I narrowed my eyes, and my teeth gnashed behind my mask, silentlybeggingher to speak up—to dosomething.
“Why do you think, Blackwell? Protection from the cursed Heathens! From you!” Pruitt roared. “We’ve made the decision. This was what her father wanted. It’s final. You will not go within twenty feet of Fallon Morgan. You will not talk to her, coerce her, touch her, or as much as release a breath in her direction unless we order it. She is Sacred Sea, and you and the Heathens will keep your distance.”
My eyes narrowed at the man. “You’re taking away her free will! How far are you willing to take this?” This was sick. Fallon had been gone for twenty-four years, and now they were assigning her to a man, passing her along as property. “She should have a choice whether or not to join a coven.”
Mr. Goody and Agatha exchanged glances. Viola cocked her gaze to Pruitt. And Pruitt rose to his feet, his cheeks reddened. “Are you questioning the Order within the Chambers,Blackwell? Considering your bloodline, what your father has done, and what we all know whatyouare capable of, it would be wise to back down now, or I will take action.”
I stepped forward, but Agatha jumped to her feet before I could speak my mind. “It’s the right thing to do, Julian. It’s what her father wanted. I know it doesn’t seem just, but it’s only one girl.” She looked at me as if I’d lost my mind, and perhaps I had. I’d never questioned the Order before, never brought heat upon myself, but it still didn’t make this right. “Please,Jai,” Agatha pleaded through her barred teeth. “Step down.”
Later that night, I found Beck in my room, sitting over the edge of my mattress with a steaming mug in his hand next to Jolie, who was sound asleep in my bed. The heated scent of white jasmine and honey in the tea filled the small bedroom, carrying flower petals on its steam. It was Jolie’s favorite. “What’s my sister doing here?”
More times than not, if he wasn’t working, he was here. Beck didn’t have siblings, much less a father. His mother, a flatlander, had died soon after Beck was born. She was a one night stand and hadn’t believed Earl when he’d told her about the curse or why he had to cover his head, and when she had looked into her newborn’s face, her fears took her.
Beck cared for Jolie as if she were his own sister. He ran a palm over his buzzed head and lifted his gaze. “She and your mother got into it earlier. She came here to find you. I was already here, so we were going to talk. I’ve never seen her so upset, man. I was only gone for five minutes to make her tea. Guess she cried herself to sleep.”
Sweat dewed Jolie’s forehead and cheeks as she slept in the corner of my bed, curled under the heavy blanket. Her damp black hair clung to her face as she snored lightly.
“What was it about?” I asked, and Jolie stirred inside the covers with our voices. I nudged my head toward the door, and Beck glanced back once more at Jolie before he stood and followed me out.
“Not sure, she passed out before I could get it out of her,” he said at my back as I walked toward the fridge. Probably had to do with the other kids at the academy. The Heathens’ siblings had it the hardest at school, and this wasn’t the first time Jolie had shown up at my house upset because of them. She had a mouth on her, got her into trouble more times than not, but behind closed doors, she was only the fifteen-year-old girl with a heart too big for her mouth.
Agatha didn’t put up with her dramatics.
Beck and I fell for it every time.
I opened the fridge and leaned over to grab two beers from the back as he continued, “There’s gotta be a way. Maybe the Order—”
“No.” The fridge door swung shut, and I wedged one beer cap over the counter and pounded my fist over the top. The cap popped off before I handed the bottle over to him. I already knew where he was going with this. “I just came back from the Chambers,” I went on, repeating the same steps for my bottle. “It’s not like it used to be. This is what they’ve always wanted. Sacred Sea wants Norse Woods to lose power, I can see it. Pruitt never gave a damn about our curse, balance, or our coven. They’re starting to push people further away from our coven, using scare tactics. Pruitt only looks out for his own.”
“Yeah, but your mother is a member of the Order,” Beck pointed out. “Goody, too. There’s gotta be something no one’s tried before in those books. We have to steal them. We have to end this cycle.”
I shook my head with the lip of the bottle in my mouth and pointed to the back door, signaling to take this conversation outside. If Jolie happened to wake, she didn’t need to hear anything that would cause her more grief or worry. And Jolie would worry because that was who my little sister was. She had always cared more about the coven and Heathens than herself, defended us, stood up for us, fought for us, even when we begged her to stop. It had only made it worse for her.
With a snap of my finger, the fire pit rekindled, and the two of us sat in the large chairs Phoenix and I had built from the wood of fallen birch trees. Beck stretched out his legs and dropped his head back, his bandana covering his nose and mouth, his blue eyes looking up at the cloud-filled sky.
The curse affected us as well, never being allowed to see each other or our own faces.
“Why were you called into the Chamber? Did it have to do with Jury?” Beck finally asked, keeping his gaze above.
“No. They wouldn’t have proof it was me either way.” But if I told him it was about Fallon, he’d see right through me and know of these … feelings that were violating me. Feelings that were strange and intruding and unlawful and could pull my attention from our priorities. But he’d never use it against me.
Beck was loyal, compassionate, understanding, but also a maelstrom of emotions. The sensitive one, and when prodded or backed into a wall, he’d either unleash an emotional storm from hell or withdraw into himself.
From day one, Beck had taken on everyone’s pain and suffering as if it were his own. But next to his ability to feel so deeply, he was also psychic, which was both a blessing and a curse of his own, like the rest of us. Being born with magic in our bones had come with a price. A downside. And each one of us had one. Mine was my shadow-blood. Beck’s was his psychic abilities. Our downside was a curse that could never be broken.
And Beck had spoken of Fallon’s existence long before she arrived.
