“Outside. But I don’t think?—”
She cuts me off, swinging open the door as she watches the witches circling around her grandmother as the older woman’s eyes roll back into her head.
“What are you doing?” Violet yells. “Let her go. What the fuck is wrong with you all?”
The witches ignore her, continuing their magic as I stupidly grab Violet’s hand. Immediately, my hand wells with blisters as Violet turns and glares at me.
“Don’t you ever fucking touch me,” she says, nothing but malice in her eyes. “Let her go,” she yells again, staring at her coven.
Her mother breaks apart from the group, and Violet winces as Lavender approaches her.
She cups her daughter’s face.
“I’m sorry,” she says, before pulling out her wand, and Violet starts to pass out. I catch her before she hits the floor. “Take her home. It’s going to take some time to have enoughstrength to undo what’s been done,” Lavender says, pocketing her daughter’s wand.
“What if she never remembers?” I ask, emotion clogging in my throat.
Lavender does the same loving gesture to my face, something a motherly figure has never done.
“I lost thirty years. There’s no way in hell I’m losing any more. We’ll get her back, no matter the cost,” she promises me.
So, I do as she says, bringing her back to her home, lying her in her bed. I sit there, hoping for a miracle.
Chapter 43
There’s a heavy weight on my chest, and I shove it off, sharp nails digging into my skin as an irritated voice trickles into my head.
“Don’t tell me the old hag made you hate me too,”Walter says.
“Ugh, why are you talking so loud?”
“I didn’t say anything,” a deep voice says, as I quickly open my eyes to see the massive man from earlier.
He’s in my bedroom, staring at me.
I pull the soft purple comforter up to my chin and stare at the man for a moment. He’s huge, not bad looking…okay, he’s handsome, but he’s definitely a wolf. Why in the actual fuck would a wolf be in my bedroom right now?
I feel for my wand. Nothing.
I cast a quick wordless spell for my wand. Still nothing.
“Your mother took your wand for now,” the man says, and I can’t help but to slightly sneer at him. I’m not sure why I hate him, but it’s irrelevant.
“I’ve never met my mother. Why are you in my house?” I ask him.
His blunt nails drag against his beard. The sound is soothing. No, it’s annoying.
“If I were to tell you I was your husband and that your grandmother erased me from your memory, would you believe me?” he asks, his glowing amber eyes looking at me with sadness and hope.
“No,” I reply honestly. “I’d never marry a wolf,” I say.
The man laughs even though it’s evident that he doesn’t find it funny.
“Unfortunately, he may stink, but he doesn’t tell lies,”Walter tells me and I furrow my brows as I stare into his yellow eyes.
Walter is crotchety and irritable, but he’s not a liar. If anything, his dedication is solely to me. Why would he lie?
“And what he said about grand-mère?” I ask Walter, the man watching in fascination as I talk out loud to my cat.
