“You lied to us,” Lavinia said the words simply, not turning to look at Dani, as if she were merely commenting on the weather.
Dani’s throat clenched. “I didn’t—”
“It’s understandable,” Lavinia continued, eyes soft but unyielding. “After all, we all assumed you had been driven away because of your witchcraft when you turned up at our door with a baby. Why else would you request sanctuary, ask to join our coven? We’ve all experienced the hatred shifters and vampires hold for us. I imagine it was easier to let us assume what we liked than to admit to the rather…complicated reality.”
Dani shut her eyes. Shame and fear and old pain knotted in her gut. “I didn’t want to lie,” she whispered, “I just…it’s as you say. I was scared that if I told you the truth, you’d turn me away.”
Lavinia tutted softly. “You came to us a witch, Daniella. We would not have forsaken you.”
“But I…I…”
“You think your connection with the shifters would have changed our minds?”
Dani nodded miserably.
Lavinia sniffed, casting her eye over the passing shadow of a wolf, her gaze decidedly disdainful. “I won’t insult you by claiming there wouldn’t have been questions. But Gaia knows we’re persecuted enough as it is; there will never be judgment in my coven about who a witch chooses to love.”
“I don’t love him,” Dani said fiercely, surprising herself with the venom in her voice.
Lavinia looked at her then, her gaze full of pity, and Dani felt about two feet tall. “But you did once. Do not be so quick to deny your own history, Daniella. You do yourself a disservice.”
“But that’s what it is,” Dani choked out, “history. We’re done. We were done ten years ago. I want nothing more to do with him.”
“And yet,” Lavinia said, voice soft, “fate has decided otherwise.”
Dani shook her head violently. “Please. Lavinia, I can’t marry him. I can’t go back to that life. You don’t understand—”
“I understand very well.” Lavinia turned, looking up at the towering mountains, monolithic and unrelenting. “You are, whether you believe it or not, a powerful witch. A fire burns deep within you, one which this frozen place may very well extinguish. I expect it was tried in the past. But Dani,” she turned, taking her hands, a rare show of affection, “it is also where you may burn the brightest. Fire is needed in the cold. Perhaps the great Ice Bear does not need more of the same, tradition, stoicism and glacial stubbornness. He needs a hearth to warm him. Fire to ignite him. Gaia has decreed that you are two sides of the same coin. I will not deny her this fate.”
Dani’s heart squeezed painfully. “It’s not that simple.”
“Nothing worth doing ever is.”
“He hurt me,” Dani choked. “You don’t know what he—”
“I know you left him. And I know you never told him why.”
Dani froze.
Lavinia’s gaze was ancient. Knowing.
“If he is indeed cruel,” the High Sister said, “you will tell me. I will protect you. But what I saw in that clearing was a wolf who would tear mountains apart for you. And Gaia does not give bonds lightly.”
Dani’s eyes stung.
“This is bigger than you,” Lavinia continued gently. “The hybrids. The summit. The threat rising in the north. You have a role to play, Dani. One only you can fill. And if you refuse…I don’t see a place for you among us any longer.”
The words settled like winter frost.
Unavoidable.
Final.
Lavinia wasn’t manipulating her or even threatening her.
She was telling a truth Dani didn’t want to hear.
And Dani hated her for it.
