Jay
Ow. Ow. Ow.
We’ve been here for hours, and my knees arekillingme. Now that Caleb is reading the names, I don’t have anything entertaining to distract myself from the pain. The silver lining is Caleb, who appears to be just as miserable. Or bored. I can’t tell unless I want to make it obvious that I’m staring at him.
The double doors to the hall burst open, slamming against the wall. A symphony of gasps arise at the sudden noise. All heads turn to find a woman with dark chocolate colored straight hair that stops just above her tailbone and striking eyes to match. Dressed in all black form-fitting wear, she’s got an hourglass figure with hips women wouldkillto have.
It’s me. I’m women.
Along with being strikingly gorgeous, she carries herself with a wicked air of confidence, making her that much more attractive. Even if she hadn’t made such an entrance, she would’ve captured the entire hall’s attention. With full lips pulled up into a smirk, she knows it, too.
Caleb sits up a little taller in his chair, his eyes rake over her curves. He meets her smirk with his own. It’s no surprise he finds her attractive—anyone would—but for some reason, his interest has my wolf growling.
She surfaces, and I know my eyes must be glowing.
As if speaking their own language—and his smirk a beckoning call—her stiletto knee-high boots click across the floor while she struts down the aisle, head held high.
Everyone in the room follows her with their eyes.
The clicking stops when she reaches Caleb.
Tyler’s eyes dart around the room, ultimately landing on her. “Is it just going to be you?”
“I’m perfectly capable of presenting myself,” the woman answers.
All other bachelorettes came with a guardian or mentor to represent them. For her to come without is a power move. One I respect the hell out of.
“I’m sorry, but it’s custom to have someone represent you...” Tyler says.
“My Aunt Dehlia and her daughter Selene send their regrets. Their coven had an emergency.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. What coven might that be?”
“The Hecatae.”
The crowd erupts in whispers ofthe dark ones. It isn’t untilevilandgrim reaperare heard in hushed tones that the witch chooses not to ignore them further.
“Not all dark witches are evil. There’s dark and light. Dark magic can just mean dabbling in realism and reality is, in and of itself, dark.”
The whispering stops. The witch has the floor.
“Selene is a dark witch. Some of you may call her grim reaper...” She side-eyes the room. “She serves as a crossroad between life and death. Her magic allows her to take and give life with a wave of her hand. She can bring back the dead and give offers to them, too.”
Her hands drop to her side, palms open, a loaded weapon.
Caleb is probably worried she’ll retaliate at his pack’s disrespect, inquires further, bringing the focus back on him. “And... your aunt Dehlia?”
The witch folds her hands behind her back, and Caleb lets out a breath.
“My Aunt Dehlia has magic that lies in the middle of life and death, which allows her to connect to the dead. Their gifts complement one another.”
“Like a psychic?” Tyler asks.
“Oh, she can do so much more than that. She can connect with the dead, but her craft lies in the middle where she can open the doors between each afterlife destination. This allows her to pull souls from each door and rearrange them. Like anyone from, both Selene and Dehlia have magic rooted in fate. If you’re familiar with Hecate—”
“Hecate? What’s that?”
“Not what.Whom,” she corrects Tyler gently. “You might have once heard Hecate was the Greek goddess of the underworld, but she is so much more. She is the night, a protector and a masterful necromancer. Each coven has a god or goddess our magic descends from and therefore, who we worship.”
