Page 17 of Wolfsbane

He blinked his wide eyes, and suddenly they looked so green that they were all I could see. The bright spring-leaf color in an otherwise drab gray room. “Your . . . conscience,” he whispered. “I’m not going crazy.”

I almost snorted at the notion. My wolf had been giving him shit, then. Still, if he wasn’t trying to scratch off his own skin, he had to have something in common with the wolf, didn’t he? My wolf never would have put up with being put inside someone who was irredeemable. I had to believe that.

I pushed off the wall and stalked forward. “What is your name, zaichik?”

He blinked at me a moment, confused and suspicious, or maybe terrified of the wolf approaching him, despite the cell bars. “D-Daire.” He frowned, then drew himself up. “What’s . . . what’s your name?”

“Viktor.” My voice went low, almost . . . was that seductive? What the hell was I trying to do? Seduce my way out of the cell? That was not in my skill set at all.

Still, he swallowed hard and stared up at me with his big green eyes, and part of me thought I might like to give it a try.

Then the door to the room burst open, and three witches marched in. Without a word, two of them used those tasers on me, and while I had no wolf, they worked quite effectively. A moment later, I was on the floor of the cell, counting myself lucky I wasn’t pissing myself.

Daire shouted that what they were doing wasn’t necessary, but even I saw what was coming next. One of the witches came up behind him. “It’s time for the ritual,” she said, matter of fact and just as cold as I’d ever seen Ermengarde. “And your mother requires you as well.”

Daire looked confused, and I couldn’t speak in the moment, couldn’t tell him what seemed obvious to me. She wasn’t planning on making him the witchwolf. How could a woman like that be looking for anything but power for herself?

The only joy I could find in that moment was the clear and obvious fact that put into her, my wolf would end them both in under a week.

CHAPTER 8

Daire

Viktor was on the ground, half-conscious, before they dared to open the door to his cell. As soon as they stepped in, Ryan tied his hands behind his back and hauled him off the ground. Viktor groaned, his teeth bared in a grimace.

This was . . . awful. A high, keening whine played in my head.

I didn’t want this—not the power, and not his wolf, which so far had just made my life more complicated. I didn’t know why I did anything anymore. Was it me or his wolf or the fact that things had gone so far that people were dying and—and no sane person should simply take that in stride?

I didn’t even want to be a witchwolf, really. Yes, maybe Dakota Morris’s whole story sounded terribly romantic, that his mate loved him enough that the bite took and worked, but that was the part I liked. That was what I was jealous of.

Mother had compared becoming a witchwolf to being a witch with a nuclear reactor, but it was more like a nuclear bomb.

I’d be a weapon, her weapon, and I hadn’t even gotten my magic yet, much less figured out how I wanted to use it.

When I thought about how life would be after my awakening, I’d imagined simple spells, community, and yes, maybe one day I’d lead the coven, since everyone had always told me that was in my future. Perhaps before that I’d even find some way to impress my mother, and she’d see that I was worthy.

Maybe if I’d been born a girl, it wouldn’t have been so hard to prove it.

And maybe you’re making excuses for a monster.

I dragged my feet behind Ryan, who was holding Viktor. Destiny brought up the rear, and her eyes on me made the hair at the nape of my neck stand on end. I wasn’t going to run away if Mother had summoned me, but I didn’t know I’d be a part of this so directly, or why I needed an escort to get there.

I couldn’t assist with magic, and Mother usually kept me out of ritual casting. Perhaps, if I didn’t draw attention to myself, I’d be allowed to watch while the spell work was performed, but I’d never been requested.

We walked not into the pantry with Mother’s cauldron or the library where she had gathered her books, but outside, into the backyard of the compound, where a large fire had been built.

Smoke curled toward the stars above, light gray against the inky blue sky, disappearing into the clouds overhead.

Every member of the coven was dressed in white robes that caught the dim light. They’d gathered in a circle. At the cardinal directions, four witches were standing, chanting quietly, their voices in perfect harmony.

I looked around at the others gathered, and at Mother standing at a small table, set with tools of her craft.

I felt a strange gratitude that there wasn’t anything overtly bed-like laid out there on the ground. I didn’t realize until that moment how nervous I was that this would be something like an actual awakening, that Viktor would be expected to surrender his wolf and—and that too.

The awakening that I’d built up in my head for years would be twisted into a nightmare.

A cold sweat broke out over my skin. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.