Chapter 23: Chapter Twenty-Three

It took thunder to wake me up.

I rolled over, my legs caught in the thin white sheet, and pushed myself onto my elbow. My long, dark hair pooled underneath me, knotted and in need of attention.

Grant was gone, his space in the bed empty. He had left the door to his bedroom cracked just wide enough for me to see the window in the living room. It was raining.

“Morning,” Grant said as he moved silently to the doorframe, holding a cup of coffee. He paused there, eyes thoughtful before he set the coffee on the nightstand and knelt in front of me.

I swallowed hard and dropped my gaze. He still had ash smudged along his neck from where I had buried my face the night before.

Looking at him, at his pale eyes, at his open expression, it closed my throat.

“Morda,” he said gently, a tone I wasn’t used to hearing from him. A tone that made it hard for me to keep the tears out of my eyes, to stop the emotion from leaking out of me.

Thunder rumbled somewhere far off, and I felt the first tear splash onto my cheeks.

“I don’t know what happened,” I admitted, chest caving in. “I didn’t want to do that—I didn’t want to be like that. I lost control—” I choked off as a sob threatened to split me in half.

I gripped my stomach tightly, wondering if I needed to be sick.

“What happened last night doesn’t define who you are. It was a mistake, fueled by anger and grief and misplaced guilt.” Heartbreakingly slow, Grant reached out to me.

His eyes were guarded, afraid that I would reject him, that I didn’t need him now that it was the morning. He was wrong. I did need him. And I would admit that to anyone who asked.

I wasn’t the kind of girl who could stand freely on her own. I needed someone to stand with me, to reassure me that I was standing tall enough, straight enough. I needed to be needed. I wanted to be needed.

I gripped his hand tightly, and some of his hesitation melted away. He moved upward slowly, coming to sit beside me.

I turned my body to face him, hiking my knee farther onto the bed. His lips twitched as he reached out to take my other hand.

“You hurt me yesterday,” Grant murmured, eyes focused on our hands. I looked to his arms, to the burn marks that were already starting to heal. He caught my gaze and shook his head.

“You shut me out, you chose to go alone. That isn’t how mates usually—that isn’t how I want to be with you.” He drew in a long, shaky breath.

“I know you have a decision to make”—he winced—“between me and Ben.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued on quickly.

“You don’t have to decide anything right now. I don’t want you to. Not when he’s not here, not until he is here. I—I’m trying to understand, Morda. I’m trying to move past…

“I am trying to not let my past interfere with my future.” He swore and shook his head. I squeezed his hand to encourage him. “What I said before, about not wanting to be around you—I regret it.

“I will stand beside you as long as you need me to. Until you choose him, I will be here.

“And I want you to accept that, without question, without hesitation, I want you to accept that I will be by your side.”

I cursed myself as my lower lip wobbled. I bit down on it hard as my chest felt like it was expanding, about to pop at any moment.

“I don’t deserve this,” I whispered. Not after last night. Not after I had become a monster, done monstrous things. I didn’t deserve Grant, his loyalty, his love.

Grant’s eyes were fierce. “Don’t do that. Don’t dismiss what I’m saying because you’re feeling shitty right now. Second-guessing your right to love only ever leaves you alone.

“You deserve love, you deserve to have someone care about you without exception, you deserve that intimacy.

“Trust me, I’ve played this game. Wondering endlessly if you’re worthy, if you’ve done something wrong… it gets you nowhere you want to be.”

“I almost killed someone,” I whispered, unable to reach my full voice. I cringed at the sound of my words, at how raw my voice sounded. I thought of Kale, of his ruined mouth—

“He’s alive,” Grant said tautly, “that’s what matters.”

“He almost died. It’s basically the same thing,” I argued.

Grant’s light eyes suddenly reflected the storm outside. “It’s not. Trust me. I have killed before, and it’s not the same thing.”

I closed my mouth immediately, watching as emotions passed through Grant’s eyes. Anger, shame, grief, regret, sadness.

He had killed when he was in the Pura Lupus pack. He had killed bad people. It was almost like he read my last thought.

“It’s not always that simple. Just because we have white fur doesn’t mean we’re always the good guys.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. “For leaving you behind last night, for forcing you to stay behind. I wasn’t thinking, just reacting.

“I’m sorry that you saw me that way last night—that you had to take care of me when I was like that.”

Grant recoiled. “I don’t want you to apologize.”

I blinked. “Thank you.”

“I don’t want your thanks either,” Grant nearly barked.

I frowned. “I—”

Grant ran his hands aggressively through his white hair. “I don’t need you to thank me, and I sure as fuck don’t want an apology. I just want you to exist beside me.

“I don’t care if you’re laughing or crying or swearing or sleeping. I just want you to feel like you belong next to me. I don’t ever want you to second-guess yourself on my account.

“I don’t want you to feel embarrassed for showing me that side of you last night, and I don’t want you to thank me as if I was going out of my way to help you.

“What else would I have done? Where else would I have been? You are my ~mate~, I will always be beside you.”

“I—”

Grant didn’t let me respond. Instead, he rushed forward, grasping my face lightly as he pulled me into a kiss.

I gasped as our lips connected, and Grant seized the opportunity, running his tongue along my lower lip before snaking it into my mouth.

His hands moved through my hair, down my jaw, to the side of the neck, sending ripples of shivers down the column of my spine.

I arched my back, chest pressing tight to his as he continued to explore my mouth, his hands roaming no farther until I reached up and touched his face.

And then it was like we had been struck by the lightning storm raging outside.

Grant’s hands slipped down to my waist as he lifted me and then placed me under him, his legs swinging over my body as he positioned himself above me.

I felt my hair graze my bare shoulders as it fell to swoop over the pillows.

He made a low sound in his throat as one hand reached up to grasp my face and his other grazed my waist, my hip, my ass, my thigh.

I broke away to breathe, and Grant dipped low, running his mouth and tongue and teeth along my ear, my jaw, my neck.

I felt my eyes flutter open and then closed them again when I felt his teeth nip the skin underneath my earlobe. He hesitated there, seeming to debate something inside himself.

I squeezed his hair. “Grant?”

I felt him tense above me, and then he placed a feather-light kiss to the spot and moved on. He caught my lips again, and I dissolved into heat itself.

My eyes were printed with deep red, my heart was racing against my chest, bringing a lustful flush to my cheeks.

I slipped my hands down his back, scratching lightly before I found the hem of his shirt and slid my hands underneath, finding tight muscles and smooth, scarred skin.

He let out a low growl as I explored his torso, his kiss finding a new sort of urgency.

And then the doorbell rang.

“Fuck,” Grant growled, digging his face into the crook of my shoulder and neck. He took a second there, breathing hard.

I was breathing hard too, fighting myself as I slowly withdrew my hands from his body and untangled my legs from his.

He swore again and then rolled off me, disappearing from the room as he went to answer the door. Whoever was waiting wasn’t very patient. The doorbell had rung another seven times.

I slowly pushed myself up, resting my shoulders against the headboard as I touched my lips, still tingling, and then my hair, which was mussed and knotted.

I thought suddenly of Ben, of how we had kissed in the forest—I shut down that line of thought. I wouldn’t compare.

“—waiting for you at—” I jolted straight up. Axel was here. I crept off the bed and moved to the doorway, trying to hold my breath long enough to catch what he was saying.

“—found him last night but—is here to talk more about it—”

My heart was racing. I listened for Grant’s reply. “Okay, we’ll be there in ten minutes.”

The door opened and closed, and then the apartment was silent. I rushed out of the room and paused when I saw Grant at the door.

He looked tired, and yes, he was still covered in ash from the night before, but there was a gleam in his eyes—one that was fading—that was clearly happiness. I had made him happy.

He seemed as caught up in staring at me as I did at him because he took a second to shake his head and clear his throat before he spoke. “They found Ben.”

Thunder rumbled, but I felt like I was stuck in a blizzard as my entire body caught a chill. “But it isn’t as simple as we had hoped.”

My voice was wooden. “What’s happened?”

“The Evers pack found him near Washington. But Cerberus was following and watched them take him in.

“They were threatening Alpha Evers, warning him to report Ben to the Royals lest they call other packs and tell them that the Evers weren’t following regulation.”

“Okay,” I hedged, “so?”

Grant sighed. “They called the Royals—and I assume Alpha Evers explained the situation.

“Well, it was enough to spare Ben from a cell in the Royal Palace, but it intrigued the King enough for him to make the trip to Oregon. We’re in a standstill now.

“They’re requesting that we go and meet them back at the Evers’ property.”

“Requesting,” I repeated, feeling hollow and near hopeless.

If the situation was already out of our control, it was now far beyond anything we imagined. I thought of this faceless werewolf King and felt my stomach sink.

“We have to go,” Grant confirmed. “There isn’t a choice—especially for me.”

“I don’t have a choice either,” I said, “not if Ben is involved.”

Grant nodded, but I could see how much my words stung him. “Right. Well, Axel followed my scent here, but they went to your house first. Ebony is there now, waiting.”

“Why did they come?” I asked. Couldn’t they have called?

Grant sighed. “They want to discuss what we’re going to do next. They don’t like how aggressive Cerberus is being, and they want to pick my brain.”

“Surely Cerberus isn’t a threat,” I said, thinking of Haven and Ebony and their equally massive mates.

“Perhaps not a physical one,” Grant agreed, “but if they were to ruin the Evers’ reputation... it could be detrimental if they wished to form alliances in the future.”

I got the sense that werewolf politics was more complicated than I knew.

I went to the bathroom and fixed myself up as best as I could.

Grant had tried his best to dress me in my clothes after he had soaked me in the ice tub but had given up and thrown one of his T-shirts over me.

I retrieved my clothes now and held them up, frowning. They were covered in ash and soot and blood.

I felt Grant’s gaze and turned to see him watching me from the bathroom door. “You might just have to strut in my clothes. There’s an extra toothbrush under the sink—might make you feel better.”

I smiled, and he left. I dropped the clothes on the counter and washed my face, scrubbing my skin where it was darkened.

My hair still smelled like fire, so I tied it back using an elastic band, cringing when it tugged on single hairs.

Grant was right. I felt incredibly better after brushing my teeth. I fixed Grant’s shirt so it hung off one shoulder.

I hoped it looked more like a bold fashion statement and less like I was toting myself around in my hookup clothes. I blushed. Since when did I hook up with anyone?

I froze in the mirror. Whatever lighthearted moment I had vanished when I thought about going home, seeing my aunt, bursting the bubble of acceptance and reassurance Grant had built around me.

My aunt called me guilty, and I was sure she would do it again, but this time the blame lay with my hands, with my physical actions and not my choices.

This time I had burned someone, harmed someone, with intention and with flesh.

I sank farther into the sidewalk with each step I took, wishing at one point that the concrete would swallow me whole.

It was still pouring outside, but I had refused Grant’s offer to get a taxi. I needed the cool water on my skin, needed a walk in the rain.

Grant walked a step ahead of me, mouth pressed into a firm line. He had been stuck in his own head since we left his apartment—since Axel showed up, really.

I took a chance and jogged up to him, scooping his hand in mine.

Grant jumped in surprise and looked down at me and then at our hands. His cheeks lit up red for a brief moment before he swallowed and looked away, giving my hand a quick squeeze.

Over the rain, I could just hear him say, “Thank you, witch.”

I smiled and replied, “You’re welcome, wolf.” I grinned at the sound of his laugh and continued walking with a new sense of resolve. Whatever happened, Grant would be there.

Grant grew tense when we reached my house. He inhaled deeply, picking up the scents of Axel and Ebony.

I covered our hands in my other palm and smiled up at him. His returning smile was quick and tense as we made our way to the house.

My aunt yanked open the door before I could place my hand on the knob. Her blue eyes were puffy and red, and her hair was a frizzy mess that was slipping from the clips she used to pin it up.

Her bottom lip jutted out when she saw me, a new wave of tears rising to the surface as her face went blotchy.

“I’m so sorry,” she blubbered, reaching for me with ringed fingers and pulling me into a tight hug. “I was so afraid—when I saw the house on fire—when I saw the boy—” I flinched.

“I shouldn’t have said those things,” she said, bangles digging into my back. “I was awful and afraid and sick with worry and grief for your mother—I shouldn’t have put all that on you, punk.

“I am so sorry. And to think I caused all this…” Her fingers gripped my shoulders tightly as she held me at arm’s length, her apology blazing in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Morda.”

I swallowed thickly. “I’m sorry. It is my fault that everything’s happened—I brought all this trouble. And last night—last night I…”

My aunt wiped away a few tears. “Don’t you worry about last night. The clan took care of it. The boy is absolutely fine.

“He doesn’t remember a thing besides the fact that he lit the house on fire when he left the stove top on. He isn’t hurt anymore—we took care of everything.”

I was speechless as I felt an odd mixture of more guilt and blissful relief. Kale was all right. My aunt had taken care of everything. But I was upset that she had to do damage control in the first place.

“How’s Mom?” I managed to ask.

My aunt’s face was grave. “She’s stable for now.”

I felt a figure looming and looked over my aunt’s shoulder to see Axel.

Grant stepped closer to me and glared, obviously upset that Axel didn’t have the common sense to see that my aunt and I needed a moment.

I was glad for his intrusion, though, sure if I bonded any further with my aunt, I wouldn’t be able to function for the rest of the day.

“We have things to discuss,” Axel rumbled before promptly exiting.

I stood back from my aunt and wiped at my cheeks. It was only then that she looked down at me and smirked, lifting my mood. “Good for you,” she said with a wink, referring to Grant’s T-shirt.

We followed my aunt into my mother’s voodoo room. My mother had been moved, presumably to one of the bedrooms upstairs.

My aunt had rearranged the furniture so there was enough room for everyone to sit and face each other. Admittedly, Axel looked very uncomfortable next to the goddess altar and burning sage bundles.

Ebony stood when we entered, a smile of relief on her face. I watched the way my aunt scoped her out and wondered what the topic of conversation had been before we arrived.

I was sure my aunt was telling Ebony what Eve had been trying to—that she was part witch.

“Morda,” she greeted, inclining her head to me. “Grant.”

I smiled and waved my hand in greeting, Grant did the same. My aunt handed us both a cup of terrible herbal tea and set us down on the couch before we could discuss Ben.

Once settled, Ebony shimmied forward and leaned toward us.

“We found the half-werewolf, kind-of-human-sometimes guy,” she informed me.

“Ben will work too,” Grant rumbled.

Ebony smiled. “We tracked Ben down. Did it a lot faster than Cerberus, given the size of our pack and our other assets.” She looked over to Axel who didn’t smile.

Ebony cleared her throat. “He’s mostly unhurt—”

“Mostly?” I repeated, my voice tight and tense. Grant’s hand grazed my back.

Ebony nodded. “A little shaken—Alpha Dane wasn’t exactly gentle on him when he hauled him in. Injuries sustained in other forms can be gruesome when we shift back.

“He’s healing fine, though, my father made sure he was treated despite Dane’s protests.”

“Thank you,” Grant said, “for protecting him.”

Ebony’s expression grew dark. “That’s where we have a problem. As you remember, Cerberus showed up as you were leaving. They found out about our deal and weren’t happy.

“The Royals were contacted, and of course, given the new involvement of the witches, they began traveling immediately.”

“They make things complicated,” Axel rumbled.

Ebony nodded. “With King Sebastian present, my father and I have our hands tied. We can only protect Ben so long as he is on pack land, and even then, it only extends to Cerberus.

“The Royals can take him at any time. Luckily, King Sebastian is more interested in you than your Ben.”

I raised an eyebrow. “In me?”

Ebony nodded. “Yes. In you, in witches, in the entire supernatural world that’s been coexisting next to ours all along.

“He wants to know why we’re not a part of it, and ideally, I believe he’d like the werewolf community to rejoin.”

My aunt scoffed. “Werewolves left centuries ago. They were too loyal to one another, it was them before us, pack before all else.

“The Council had no use for them, and werewolves were too aloof to work alongside us or to risk their pups to help the rest of us. There is no chance for reconciliation.”

Ebony shrugged. “Regardless, it’s what our King wants, and he knows now that he can leverage Ben against you if he wants to.

“Cerberus is another problem—well, them and the group of outlaws that trespassed in order to save your Ben.”

I felt like the room had suddenly tilted sideways. “Ben’s pack showed up?” What were Will and Fitz thinking? Guilt settled over me like a warm, familiar blanket.

Ben had told them that he would catch up with them. They must’ve caught wind of his capture and decided to intervene because despite what the boys claimed, they were friends—they were family.

“They’re not a pack,” Axel interjected.

Ebony waved a hand. “Yes. Your Ben’s misfit pack showed up. Of course, they walked right into a perfect storm. My father was pissed that they trespassed.

“Cerberus was elated their prey walked right into a snare, and the Royals were there to pass judgment immediately.”

Another problem I didn’t need.

Grant shook his head. “Idiots,” he mumbled under his breath behind me.

Lightning struck nearby and lit up the room. Thunder followed.

“I won’t go to the Council if the Royals hurt Ben,” I stated. “And if they do hurt him, then I’ll seek out the other supernatural leaders and tell them just how terrible werewolves are.”

I felt Grant stiffen behind me, but I didn’t take my words back. I would damn the entire race to save Ben from a lifetime of rotting in a jail cell he didn’t deserve.

“My father has convinced them to hold off judging Ben until you come and speak to them.

“He doesn’t want to break the deal he made with you, but he wants Cerberus gone, and he isn’t so keen on the Royals sticking around either.”

“I understand,” I said.

“The half-wolf asked about you,” Axel said.

My throat tightened. “What did he say?”

“He—”

“What about the rest of Ben’s group?” Grant interjected, his voice thin. I understood.

It was hard enough for him to be here, planning a rescue mission for my other mate. It was too far for him to listen to Ben’s sentiments being repeated.

Ebony ran a hand through her unruly hair. “I don’t know. They’re all wanted for different reasons. They as good as turned themselves in, even if they hadn’t meant to.”

I took a deep breath and released it slowly. Another problem I would have to figure out later. “Can we travel back with you today?” I asked.

Ebony opened her mouth to speak but stopped and cocked her head to the side. Axel and Grant did the same thing, all three of them listening to something my aunt and I couldn’t hear.

Grant stood and moved to the hall, Axel lumbering behind him.

A moment later, I heard an urgent rap on the door. We all moved to the hall in time to see Grant yank the door open.

Jocelyn stood there, her long blond hair plastered to her forehead and hanging in wet clumps over her shoulders.

She was staring wide-eyed at Grant and Axel, and they were staring down at the girl with Beanie Boos sewed to her jeans.

Jocelyn’s eyes found mine quick enough. “Morda!” she exclaimed. “C’est terrible! Votre magasin!”

Grant looked over his shoulder at me and raised an eyebrow.

“English,” I reminded her. I felt rather than saw my aunt roll her eyes.

“Your store,” she repeated, “someone has broken into it. The door and windows have been knocked out. There’s stuff all over the street, and no doubt most of it has been stolen. Do you think it was Kale?”

“No,” my aunt said stiffly, grabbing her yellow raincoat and shrugging it over her shoulders. “Not this time.”

Aunt Robin urged Jocelyn out the door and back into the heavy rain, asking for as many details as she could get.

I turned to Ebony and Axel who were communicating through a series of looks and then to Grant.

“You two should head back to your pack,” Grant suggested. “We’ll meet you once we help Morda’s aunt with the shop.”

Ebony nodded. “All right. I’m sure we will discuss this further with my father and the Royals.”

We all said our goodbyes, and then Ebony and Axel ducked out of the house and into the storm, disappearing quickly as they headed for the forest.

Grant handed me a jacket and then propelled me out of the house. We walked close and quick, Grant doing his best to shield me from most of the rain.

It wasn’t a far walk from my home to the store, but the rain had seeped through my jacket almost instantly, and my feet were damp as water had soaked through the soles.

Thunder and lightning battled in the sky above us as we walked, setting my teeth on edge. We turned onto the street where my mother’s shop was and assessed the damage as we neared.

The front windows had been knocked out, and the door was hanging off its hinges. There were smashed items all over the sidewalk.

Books had been ripped from their shelves and tossed onto the street, and someone had taken the time to smash all the crystal balls and rip apart the bundled herbs.

I froze when I saw Kale’s father. He was talking with my aunt, taking a report of the damage, I assumed.

From the line of his shoulders and back, I could tell he was stressed and tired. Filing a theft report in the middle of a thunderstorm was the last thing he wanted to do.

Kale’s father nodded to me as I approached. I hadn’t seen him in years, but I doubted he forgot the old friendship between Kale and me as his son had forgotten.

I heard him promise to return to my aunt, and then he took off down the street, heading for the ranger’s office.

Jocelyn had been dismissed by my aunt and was nowhere in sight, leaving the three of us standing in the rain and staring at the damage.

My aunt seemed spooked. She had pulled her jacket tight around her body and was spinning the rings on her fingers.

“Do you know who did this?” I asked.

My aunt stepped forward carefully, taking care to avoid the rough edges of the broken window and avoid the hazardous mess on the ground.

Grant and I followed her into the shop, stepping through the now empty window frame. My heart sank as I took in the damage. This was going to set my family back substantially.

Rain slanted in through the broken window, worsening the condition of the shop as the floor collected a few inches of rainfall.

Grant bent down and picked up an old book, shaking off as much water as he could before he set it back on the shelf.

My aunt shivered. “Whoever did this stole the real artifacts and left the gimmicks.” She shook her head as she turned, blue eyes scanning every inch of the place.

“I can’t be sure, but I think…” She trailed off as she caught sight of a book on the cash counter.

She moved toward it hesitantly, almost afraid of it. Grant and I followed, both aware that something was off. My aunt stifled a cry of horror as she read the book’s title.

I blinked and tried to read her face—I didn’t recognize anything, not the binding or the title or the author.

My aunt reached back for me blindly, her eyes still staring at the book. I grasped her hand and felt panic pinch my stomach. Something was terribly wrong.

My aunt forced her gaze away from the book and met my eyes.

“Malleus Maleficarum,” my aunt whispered.

“What?” I breathed. “What does that mean?”

“The Witch’s Hammer,” my aunt explained, her voice hoarse.

“The first book to ever be published on the subject of witches. It’s the first warning against witchcraft, the first connection between witches and Satan.

“A load of garbage that paints witches as the devil’s whores. This is the book that led to the first witch hunts in Scandinavia.

“This is the book that made the prosecution, torture, and murder of witches not only legal but God approved.”

I looked down at the book and felt a chill run through me. “Why is it here?”

My aunt’s skin had gone pale. “A warning.”

“Do you know who sent the warning?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

She nodded and clutched a hand to her throat. “The Daemon Hunters.” I didn’t bother asking who they were. Her tone and the look in her eyes told me enough.

I knew suddenly what my aunt had suspected all along. It wasn’t Kale who had made the bellarmine, it had been this new, larger threat.

My aunt turned to the broken window, moving close enough for the rain to splash against her legs.

The wind whipped her red hair into a frenzy, tugging it from its clasps as she gazed up at the storming sky.

“This is no normal rain, Morda,” she warned, turning her eyes on me as a flash of lightning lit up the sky behind her. “This is the beginning of a Witch Hunt.”