Tansy let out an exasperated huff. “We don’t know! He wouldn’t tell us! We chased him down to the stables, trying to stop him. We told him this wasnothow things worked.” She lifted her teacup, but didn’t take a sip. “We explained that he couldn’t just steal a horse and go riding after you while you were with the Duke. But he wouldn’t listen!”
“That’s right,” Devlinn confirmed, biting into a cranberry scone. “He was completely mad. Tore off into the night. Lena sent riders after him, of course, but none have returned.”
I sat back inmy chair. What could’ve been so urgent that Alec would ride out alone after me, in a land unfamiliar to him? He wasn’t from the Unified Territories, nor was he a warrior like Bastien. If he’d gotten hurt, or worse,killed… A cold pang of guilt twisted in my gut.
“Maybe he wasn’t mad,” Tansy said, more quietly. My gaze shifted to hers, and I found her studying the gash above my eye. “Maybe he was right to try and warn you.” She set her cup down and leaned forward. “Claire, what happened to you?”
For a moment, I found it difficult to breathe. I wasn’t ready to explain what happened in the graveyard. It was easier to talk about with Bastien because he was there. But now that I was sitting in front of two people who had no idea what I’d been through, in this very formal tea room, with a vase of freshly cut moonflowers sitting in the center, my voice stuck in my throat.
This wasn’t a story for tea.
“You wouldn’t believe me.”
The white wolf set her muzzle in my lap, pushing her cold snout against my hand, as if to saysheunderstood. She’d lost members of her pack, too. I set my hand on her head, gently petting her soft fur. As soon as I did, a scene flashed before my eyes. A woman and a man abed, entwined together.
“Why wouldn’t we believe you?” Tansy reassured me. “We’re your friends. Besides, you’re sitting with the king and queen of unbelievable stories. Who has crazier stories than two witches who don’t charge their magick, and who come from different covens? If anyone is going to believe you, it’s us.”
She was right. Of course, she was. I tried to find the words to explain what had happened. “Last night, the Duke and I were attacked.”
Devlinn’s tea cup clattered onto the saucer.
“Someone attacked the Duke?” Tansy rushed to ask. “In his own territory?” I nodded, andshe covered her mouth.
“It wasn’t justsomeone,” I said, then stopped, unable to get any more words out. I was in the tea room and the graveyard at the same time. I was shivering despite the warm tea. I could taste the coppery flavor of blood in my mouth, which made my head swim. I was living in two realities at once. Stuck in two timelines woven together, no matter how much I wanted to separate them.
I drew in a deep breath and told myself I was brave. That I was strong. That I’d survived. But it didn’t stop the tears from falling past my lashes. I wiped them away, embarrassed for crying in front of them. But I’d nearly died. Bastien had nearly died. Had it not been for Cora, I wouldn’t be here to tell this story. She saved us both.
“You must die.”Imogen’s words. Haunting me again.
I’d escaped death once, only to be told it was inevitable. I reminded myself they were all lies. She was trying to manipulate me. She knew telling me these things would unsettle me. About my death. About Bastien.
“You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to,” Devlinn said. “It’s okay. We understand.”
I slipped my hand back in my pocket and gave the sheep’s horn a squeeze. When I did, the worst of the sadness and fear began to trickle out of me. “No, it’s okay. I want to tell you.” I drew in a full breath and tried again. “The Duke and I attended a funeral at Kemp Manor. Or what I thought was a funeral. There was a spell. Some ritual. It went wrong and?—”
“In generationem et generationem,” Devlinn said. When Tansy and I gave him curious looks, he elaborated. “That’s the spell. Well, it’s a funeral ritual. It transfers ancient magick from generation to generation. It’s sacred in old families. Not every coven has that kind of power.”
“So you’ve heard of this before?” I asked.
He raked a hand through his red hair, mussing it. “Mycoven didn’t possess that kind of magick. Probably why my family was so twisted and bitter.” He expelled a humorless laugh. “That kind of inherited magick is rare. It’s said to have come from the time when Dark Witches and demons would,you know…”
He left the rest of his sentence hanging, his gaze dropping to the swirling tea in his cup.
“Fuck?” Tansy offered.
Devlinn laughed again and lifted his cup to Tansy in acknowledgment. “You always know how to take the wordsrightout of my mouth, love.” He smiled at her in a way that warmed my heart. “Yes, when demons and Dark Witches wouldfuck. Long before the Blood Treaty forbade summoning demons.”
My mouth dropped. First, Damien and Diana. Now demons and Dark Witches?Was everyone having sex?I removed my hand from my pocket and wrapped it around my teacup, trying to find a steady breath. Slowly, the dots began to connect. This darkness inside me. The simmering anger. The endless want. It wasn’t just dark magick. It was more than that.
It was…demonic.
But if this magick was passed down between generations, then I shouldn’t have received it, even if I was the most decent witch in that graveyard. “I think they were trying to pass it down,” I explained, “but the spell didn’t work. Something wentwrong.”
There was a charged silence.
“It went to you, didn’t it?” Devlinn said.
Tansy covered her hand and gasped, “Oh, Claire.”
