“I needed air,” I say simply, turning back to the patch of flowers in front of me. My fingers brush over a cluster of pale purple blooms. The irony of their growth behind the alpha'shouse isn’t lost on me, but I recall how much the males in the pack enjoyed the lethal plant in lower, safer doses. The petals gleam faintly under the natural light, soft and deceptively beautiful.
Rissa hums, stepping closer. “Hm…wolfsbane…too much of that, and you’ll drop faster than a deer caught by an alpha,” she chuckles.
I turn to her with a flat expression. “Sounds fitting. Maybe that’s not such a bad thing.”
She laughs lightly, crouching beside me. “You’ve got a thing for plants, right? Thane told me about the greenhouse you used to keep behind his grandfather’s house back in the day. I also find myself gravitating toward plant medicine. I guess we have that in common. That's why we're both witches.”
“I’m not a witch.” The words come out colder than intended. “And if you came here to talk about that, you can leave.”
Shocked at myself, my eyes widen with horror as I stare at the poisonous plant. I turn toward Rissa slowly when she doesn't immediately respond, and she sighs instead.
“You don't need to worry, Willow. I’m not here to chant spells at you. Just…checking in.” Her eyes flick to the wolfsbane again, a mischievous glint appearing. “Though, if you hate Thane that much, that stuff would make a great tea for him,” she chuckles, and I jerk my head up, startled.
“That’s not funny.”
“I’m just kidding,” she says quickly, holding up her hands. “Mostly. But you did storm out of the ceremony last night. I'm guessing there's trouble in paradise.”
The thought of poisoning Thane with wolfsbane leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I might hate him, but not like that. Not enough to harm him.
“I could never hurt him,” I whisper before I can stop myself.
Rissa tilts her head to the side, studying me quietly, and for the first time since meeting her, I could swear I see understanding in her eyes.
“Fate is a funny thing, isn't she?” Willow offers with a smile. “But I know you'll figure it out, just as we all have.”
“I'm not mating with him, if that's what you're here about,” I say bluntly. “You want me to emerge as some powerful mystic when I do, but it's not happening. These demons you speak of, I haven't seen anything, anyway.”
“You think I'm lying?”
I shrug. “I honestly don't knowwhatto think.”
Rissa purses her lips, seemingly contemplating her next words as she stands up. “The demons are real, Willow. The only reason we've been safe all this time is ‘cause of the traps set around the village to protect us. Traps that were placed there using our magic. Magic that can only fully be discovered once you've mated with your alpha.”
I gulp hard at Rissa's sharp tone, and I know it isn't coming from a bad place. But forcing me into mating with the man who hurt me, the man I've come to hate, isn't going to work.
Feeling like I've been backed into a corner again, I stand up. Just as I'm about to say something, Rissa beats me to it.
“Whatever happens, I want you to know that you can come to me. You can speak to me, Willow. Not just as a friend, but as a sister,” she offers as she turns to leave.
Staring after her, there's a part of me that wants to call out after her, but I bite my tongue to stop myself, knowing there's no way I can get out of this.
The pressure is too much to bear, and despite Rissa's warm offering, there's no way I can ever sleep with Thane.
It's just not happening.
Gulping hard again, I check my surroundings as if I'm not supposed to be caught outside, as if I'm doing something, when really, it's just that everything feels wrong. A hand flies to my neck, a spark of something awakening in my fingertips, catching me off guard when it simmers at my throat.
My eyes widen with horror as I lift my trembling fingers, watching a spark of gold shoot from my index finger to my pinky.
“What the—”
Another lightning bolt sparks in my palm, the sizzling sound bleating through my eardrums as shock freezes me to the spot. I can't move physically, while the sparks surging from my fingertips elicit a million racing thoughts in my head.
The weight of everything surfacing in this moment of hesitation, resistance, tightens around my throat, the claws of doom from the nightmare I had the other night about to choke me.
“Your love is meant for destruction….”
The words I heard that night during the nightmare echo all around me now, an imaginary dark cloud settling over me where I stand outside.
