The vampires thrive under the cover of the night and love the luminescence that a full moon brings.
The werewolves’ life is centered on a moon, only shifting once a month, but completely out of control when they do.
The witches use the moon as a source of power, gratitude, and a way of centering our coven.
The shifters tie to the moon is a mystery to me, but they seem to hold something dear to it, with how many times we’ve had to listen to a cacophony of howls while we set out jars of water to be blessed by the night sky.
“You don’t chain yourself up?” my grandmother asks in distaste. I want to sink into the floor.
“Denying the beast only proves to make things worse. When I let him roam, he gets out his energy. I haven’t and will never mark someone to have the same fate as my own.”
My grand-mère taps her nails against the table, causing Silas to glance at her.
“We can create boundary lines so that my pack and your coven have specific, private areas to convene our monthly rituals.”
Her back straightens next to me. She likes what he’s offering, but she hates him so much, I don’t think she’ll accept.
“Why?” she asks him and I sit on my hands, the feeling making my fingers numb. Maybe if I focus on that I’ll forget everything that’s about to happen.
“Why what?” Silas asks, clearly agitated.
“Why would you come here and embarrass you and your pack with a peace treaty, knowing it’s impossible? You have to have something worth trading for peace,” she says, standing up and resting her palms on the table and looking around the room. “None of you have anything I want, you’re insignificant to me. If I wanted to, I could kill you all with a simple flick of my wrist. Do you know why your pack is still alive, Silas?”
He stares at her, not responding, and she gives him a wicked smile that would normally scare the strongest of men.
“You’re alive because I let you live. Because your pack is so unimportant that I barely ever think about you. The history books may be confused about what started this feud, but I don’t forget all the things I witnessed at the helm of Alpha Collins,” she says.
With that name, Silas tilts his head. That name is new to him.
“I hated that motherfucker, but that man was an Alpha. He brought your sad little pack into the modern age with violence and technology. He killed a member of my coven, not with his teeth like a real wolf, but with something far worse,” she says, tapping her nail against the table. “You can forget this silly notion of a peace treaty and prepare for me to take you down even ten times harder.”
“It’s unfortunate to hear you think that way,” Silas says, and my grand-mère already has her wand back out.
It’s a stark reality watching how they’re both handling this situation, but I shove my conflicted thoughts deep deep down. My loyalty is with my grand-mère, with my coven. Just because I knew him a lifetime ago doesn’t change anything, it can’t.
“It would be far more unfortunate for your pack to be down yet another Alpha, wouldn’t it. Violet, get up, we’re leaving,” she says.
It feels wrong to leave without having actually spoken to him, but what else am I supposed to do?
“Yes, Violet, run off with your grand-mère. It’s where you belong,” Silas says and the words hit me square in the chest.
I don’t falter, though; I keep my chin high, my eyes clear of any tears as I turn and face him.
“You’re right, it is where I belong.”
Chapter 7
I’m trying to focus and speak to the remaining supernaturals who have stayed for the meeting, but Thorin won’t stop fucking berating me in my mind.
“Our mate. Our fucking mate was right there, and you let her walk away. You were mean to our mate. We need to chase after her and show her why we are deserving of her. We could kill her grandmother and put her in charge of the coven.”
I try to shake him, but he keeps bitching about it.
“She’s so beautiful. It’s the girl from your memories. We could have had her as our mate all this time if she wouldn’t have left,”Thorin says. An immense feeling of sadness fills me as I try to get my shit together.
I can’t think about Violet right now.
She’s only gotten more beautiful over the years. I can’t attest to her temperament, seeing as her grandmother stole the show. But it’s clear her loyalty to her coven is the same as my loyalties to my pack. Neither of us are going to be easily swayed on who we support.
