Catching Sybil’s suspicious expression, I don’t have to follow her line of vision to know what she’s thinking.
Renata and her coven may have accepted Sybil’s place in it, but I’m not so delusional to believe Renata wants me involved if she can avoid it. The five of them have history that we are not aware of, and clearly secrets they aren’t ready to share with the rest of the group.
I planned on having a conversation with Sybil to tell her that I would stay at the library, and she could go to the inn. She would fight and insist on staying wherever I am, but having a coven would be good for my sister. She deserves to see her vision through to the end. I don’t believe she was brought here simply to join the coven and play innkeeper. There has to be something else—something profound in Sybil’s fate—that brought her here with me.
Now my concern for Renata’s privacy and boundaries are dwindling. I trust that she, nor the other witches, would hurt my sister or purposefully put her in harm’s way. However, I don’t trust Renata’s ability to be forthcoming with information. Not when it comes to the curse and our role in it. If she isn’t willing to be honest with the people who want to help her, then fine.
I won’t sit around and hope for the best, not when it involves my family. I’ll use any advantage I can—like living at the inn—even if it means enduring the pain of being near Renata without beingwithher for the foreseeable future.
“Whatever you want to know,” Renata says.
Sybil snorts next to me but covers it with a cough before catching my eye.
Do you believe her?She silently asks.
It feels wrong to be hesitant toward Renata, but this is my sister. I tip my head to the side in a silent answer.
Not completely.
“Maybe,” Gale cuts in, “I should start first.”
I don’t miss the subtle look of betrayal on Rowyn’s face. She masks it quickly. In her outburst, Renata mentioned something about all of us being sent to the inn. It isn’t hard to piece together that Gale must have encouraged Rowyn to answer the call.
That’s what I have the most questions about at this point. I didn’t get a whisper in the wind, like Esme had teased at the inn. I can see how that beckoning may have confused Sybil—or her magic—which resulted in her prophetic trance rather than bringing her straight to the inn’s doorstep like the other witches.
“When Cordelia first arrived in Briarhollow,” Gale says in a sober voice, “She was reluctant to talk to anyone. Eventually, my wife and Edmond broke through her walls. She started to have a life—ahappylife—here, but… The signs were always there.”
Glancing at Renata, I catch the water lining her eyelids, but she doesn’t let a tear break free.
“What signs?” Sybil asks.
Everyone’s head turns in our direction, but Renata holds my gaze as she answers, “Of her spiral into madness—the main symptom of being a Gray Witch in the Blackthorn line.”
I can’t pull my eyes away from her, not when all my energy is focused on controlling my breath. It’s the first time we’ve everreallyacknowledged the curse and how it affects her. A fierce wave of protectiveness rushes through me, but it’s thwarted by helplessness.
How can I begin to protect Renata when it’s all in her own mind?
Sybil subtly knocks her knee against mine in silent reassurance.
The dream state that Renata and I share is rare. I never knew it was possible until I experienced it, and Sybil admitted she hadn’t ever dreamwalked to that extent with someone, either. Without telling me, she started to research the concept and came across a two-hundred page text written by none other than Everly Vexley in December of 1923.
Neither of us had any idea who she was. An old town directory cleared that up. She was Barrett’s twin sister, and presumably the person who carried on the Vexley family line. Neither of us are sure why she isn’t mentioned in our family history. Sybil’s made it her own mission to figure out what happened to Everly.
Thanks to my sister’s meddling, it’s been confirmed that it’s not a coincidence that Renata and I were able to find that connection between us.
It confirms that it’s something deeper than that. Maybe it’s because of the curse, or simply the fates, but Renata and I had no choice in meeting each other eventually. The dream state was the first step in pulling us together.
Witches don’t have fated mates, unless a werewolf is involved. Even then, that is only a wolf thing. The closest we have is the Soul Tie Bond, but the main point of that is we get tochoosewho we make that promise to.
From what the book said, whatever is tying Renata and I together toes the line between the ancient bond and something fated—there’s no indication of whether it’s as promising as being mates.
It explains why I feel such a strong connection to her. Even before I saw her face or heard her speak, there was always a part of her that felt like she was mine. I sure as hell had given her a piece of myself a decade ago, even if she wasn’t aware of it at the time.
There’s still so much I don’t know about the curse, what affects it could have on Sybil and me, or any of the other women sitting in our small group.
Trying, and failing, to ease the tension, Renata adds, “To be quite honest, sometimes Nestor’s ghost is the most normal thing about me.”
Rowyn scoffs, “Don’t start.”
