“You overextended.”
“She also has smoke inhalation,” Astoria piped up.
“Then you’ll need our healers as well,” Margaux added, then addressed her younger daughter. “Why did you wait so long to call me?”
“I called you the second we got back,” Astoria said. “You’re here in twenty minutes. I’d say that’s pretty fast.”
Margaux stood up to full height and turned to Ransom. “I understand there was an attack.”
“On my territory,” Ransom confirmed. “We’re still working out who and why.”
“My daughters were caught in it.”
“They were. And I’m sorry about that. We’re going to find out who did this.”
Margaux held his gaze for a beat, then nodded once, turning to help Tabitha up. As soon as she pulled her daughter up, her charcoal gray eyes locked onto Eli’s. The blood drained from her face and her lips parted.
Eli looked away, not just to escape the witch’s scrutiny, but also in hopes that he was wrong, that Margaux Featherstone didn’t see what he was trying to hide. The weight of the vials against his heart pressed down on him.
“Who is this?” she asked, her tone composed and polite.
“They’re the ones I was telling you about,” Ransom said. “Why we need protection from other Lycans. Olivia Jones and Eli Blake.”
Dread shot through Eli as Ransom spoke his name. He could only watch as it hit Margaux in real time. Her grip on Tabitha tightened, and her pupils shrank to pinpoints.
Fuck.
He’d been so careful. Keeping his head down and his mother’s secrets buried all these years. Now it was all coming undone.
“Blake,” Margaux repeated. She released Tabitha’s arm and turned fully toward him. “That’s an unusual name. Family name?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “My father’s name was Blake. Edward Blake. When he married into our coven, he took the Featherstone name, as is tradition when the wife ranks higher in power.”
Eli gritted his teeth, his fingernails biting into his palm.
“It’s not a common surname in these parts.” The witch took a step toward him. “And you have a very familiar face. Those eyes, that particular green. My sister, Marlene?—”
“Don’t you fucking dare say her name!” Eli was on his feet before he could stop himself, the chair hit the floor behind him with a loud crash. His wolf slammed its head against his ribcage.
Margaux didn’t back away. She held her ground, gray eyes locked on his, and that only made it worse. He took a step toward her and Ransom moved off the mantel, inserting himself between them.
“Easy,” Ransom said. “Not in my house.”
The ache in Eli’s chest threatened to burst. His wolf was clawing at him, making it worse. Olivia was at his side, her fingers gripping his sleeve, but her voice could barely cut through the ringing in his ears.
“She was my sister,” Margaux said from behind Ransom. Her voice had completely lost its composure. “Marlene was my sister.”
“I know exactly who she was to you.” Eli forced the words out through his teeth. “She told me everything. How your coven threw her out for having a child with a Lycan. How your mother decided her own daughter was disposable because she didn’t marry the man she’d chosen for her.”
“Our mother made that decision,” Margaux said, her voice shaking. “Not me.”
“And you went along with it.”
“I was twenty-two years old. I had no standing in the coven. I begged her to reconsider.” A sob broke from her throat. “Marlene was the eldest. The most powerful witch our coven had produced in three generations. Her potions were sought after across the entire eastern seaboard. She was supposed to be matriarch after our mother. I took that role because she was gone, not because I wanted it.”
“That must have been hard for you,” he said.
“Don’t.” Her eyes flashed. “Don’t reduce this to jealousy. I loved my sister.”
“Then why didn’t you find her?”
