What if Aster is capable of more than we thought? What if… no, I can’t think like that. I splash water on my face, but it doesn’t clear my thoughts. Violet can’t be gone, her wolf can’t be gone.
Thorin is crying and the reality starts to hit me. I can’t live without Violet. What if she’s suffering? Hurt? And I’m not there for her?
I stare back at my face, my eyes red from tears I didn’t know I was shedding. I can’t lose her, not after finally having her. Falling into a pit of despair isn’t what she needs, I need to be strong and bring her home.
There’s a loud crack that sounds like lightning hitting the backyard as I pull myself together and head through the back door.
It’s not just Violet’s mom standing in the yard, it’s nearly a dozen people. Iris’ grandmother, Violet’s father. The three witches who gave us access to Lavender’s home, and other witches I’ve never seen before. They’re all here to make things right, to save Violet.
Lavender looks different, and I can scent the wolf on Oberyn, who still seems a little uncomfortable with me, but he says nothing as Lavender approaches all of us.
A few of the witches seem less than enthused to be around Oberyn and me, but not scared, it’s almost like they know something we don’t.
“You found your wand,” Iris says to Lavender, who gives her a quick smile.
“I’m already a little spent helping Daisy and getting my wand back, but we need to act fast. We need to find where Aster is holding Violet.”
“Must the wolves be here?” An older redheaded woman says.
“Hush, Grandma,” Ember snaps at the woman, but surprisingly she does shut her mouth and shrug.
Lavender looks tired, and Oberyn seems worried for her, but she’s clearly committed to finding Violet. I’m watching this all happen trying to swallow down my own fear over the situation. Lavender gives me a small smile, it doesn’t mean much, but it also means everything.
These witches are gonna help me get my girl back.
“Witches in a circle,” Lavender says, not wanting to waste another moment, the other witches follow suit.
Oberyn and I stand to the side and watch as each of the witches uses a knife to cut their palm before holding hands and chanting. The wind in the backyard picks up, blowing branches and whipping the witch’s hair.
They chant repeatedly, all of them with their eyes closed, focusing on the task at hand and I just watch in awe. My experiences lately with witches have only proven that this feud has been superficial. No side is inherently bad or good, we’re all just people who want the best for those we care about the most.
I know that no matter what happens, the pack and coven will find a way to coexist after this, but the fact is, if I don’t get Violet back, I won’t be around to see it.
Suddenly, all the witches’ heads turn up, staring up into the evening’s sky, still continuing to chant. Until everything suddenly stops, the breeze dies immediately as the witches hush. They’re still holding hands as a whisper tickles my ear. I glance over at Oberyn, who clearly felt the sensation as well.
The witches part hands and almost bow before turning and looking at us.
“We know where they are,” Lavender says, her face crestfallen as she looks at the burn mark on my neck, her face full of pity and sadness. “She’s alive.”
The relief that fills me is cataclysmic as I take in a reassuring breath.
I swallow thickly as Ember and Iris each grab one of my arms and I’m quickly teleported to a garden. I have to clench my knees for a moment to shake off the nausea.
Oberyn claps my back and I pull myself together as we all stare at the shed before us. Lavender puts a finger over her lips as I watch as the Salvador coven use salt to circle around the shed.
They all stay stationed in a circle, chanting in a whisper as I follow Lavender, Oberyn, Iris, and Ember through the front door.
“You’re too late,” Aster croons. Her wand is fisted in her hand as she stares at Lavender. “She’s perfect. Just how she always should have been. Just like you were.”
I glance over at the table. Violet’s eyes are closed and her hair is now completely light blonde. The inky black color that matches her fathers, that makes her uniquely her, is gone.
“I couldn’t save you, Lavender, and you may hate me for it. But I did what had to be done. It was unnatural. It would get her killed. The coven needs to be strong.”
“What have you done?” Lavender asks, and as I go to approach Violet, Aster points her wand at me and her eyes narrow.
“She’s no longer yours. She’s mine,” Aster says and I pause for a moment as I look down at Violet’s neck, where her grandmother burned our connection from one another.
“Kill her,”Thorin says, my body vibrating with the need for him to come out and seek vengeance.
