Chapter 25: Chapter Twenty-Five

I knelt beside my mother. She was waning, her skin somehow more gaunt than the day before. Her hair was nearly covered in gray, strands had begun to fall out and now shed on her pillow.

Her lips were thin and blanched, her eyes sunken into their sockets. Even her face, which had been round and lush and beautiful, seemed hard and unforgiving now.

I took her hand in mine, fear spiking through me as I felt her cool skin, her brittle bones.

I traced the veins on the back of her palm, the spots that had appeared overnight along her fingers and wrists.

She was dying.

“I promise I’ll fix this,” I whispered to her, a tear rolling down the side of my face.

“Aunt Robin and the others are looking for the bellarmine. I’m going to go to the Council, I’ll talk to the High Matron, see if she knows anything that could help you.”

I frowned and smoothed her fingers out. “You’ve always taken care of me, Mom. Now I am going to take care of you. I just need a week, that’s all, and I’ll be back, and you’ll be fine.”

I dropped my head between my shoulders as the rain pelted against the window. Her entire room was gray, color washed out by an overcast sky.

I felt the oppressiveness of it, felt the weight of it sink into my bones turning them to lead. I stifled a sob and grasped my mother’s hand tightly in my own, wishing for clear skies.

I let go of her hand and stood, wiping my cheeks and rubbing under my eyes. I forced myself to look at her again, to remember just how she looked so I wouldn’t lose focus over the next few weeks.

My mother had to be my priority.

“I love you, Mom,” I whispered, my voice cracking. I leaned down and kissed her forehead before turning and all but running from her room. I closed her door softly, trying to be as quiet as possible.

I pressed my back against the wood, taking a moment to gather myself before I pushed off it and slipped into my room down the hall.

I looked around the space with an aching heart. I knew I would only be gone for a few weeks, but the thought of leaving this space was daunting.

I knew, somehow, that when I came back, it would no longer belong to me. I would be a different person, and this room wouldn’t be able to hold me.

My duffel bag was under my bed, I pulled it out and fought with the zipper as I yanked it open.

I packed the essentials first, making sure I went over my mental list a few times to avoid missing anything crucial.

Eve had been kind enough to lend me some of her clothes. From her I had jeans, a black leather jacket, and thick leggings that would hold up in the cold, wet weather.

As much as I loved my wardrobe, floor-trailing skirts and fringe wouldn’t be appropriate for the next few weeks.

My hand hesitated over my camera. I bit my lip and picked it up, turning it on to flip through my recent shots.

I frowned as I went through them, realizing that the last time I had taken any photos was nearly a month ago. I tucked the equipment away, wondering if I’d ever feel the urge to pick it back up again.

For a brief second, I wished I could go back in time.

I wished that I had never sat with my mother while she did Grant’s reading, never followed Jocelyn to the edge of Ben’s property, never picked up the bird in the forest.

Looking at my camera made me wish I could reverse it all, forget everything I now knew, and return to my tiny existence.

I heaved a sigh and slung the duffel bag over my shoulder, moving slowly in my room as I tried to find some sort of peace in my chest. I placed my hand on the doorknob and shivered.

My stomach was in disarray. My mind was scrambled. My heart was heavy.

I closed the door.

“Punk, good, I was just about to call you down,” my aunt said as I came down the stairs. She was shaking out her umbrella, one foot propped in the door to keep it ajar.

Her rubber boots squeaked as she came inside and shook out her tangled red hair and rain jacket.

“You just wouldn’t believe the amount of rain out there. The Hunters will probably drown us all before they have the chance to make more bellarmines.”

I couldn’t laugh.

My aunt sighed and hung up her umbrella and coat. “Come on, punk, I have some things to give you.”

I followed my aunt into our tiny kitchen and sat at the table, sliding my bag under my feet as I folded my hands together on the tabletop.

Aunt Robin bustled around the small space. Opening the fridge door with her foot while she filled the kettle up with water.

She fished around the refrigerator as the water came to a boil and surfaced with all the ingredients needed for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

The cooking standard had dropped since my mother’s coma.

“I did some divination last night,” my aunt mused as she slapped peanut butter on a piece of whole wheat bread.

She sucked the remnants of it off her fingers as she dropped a tea bag into her mug and poured the hot water.

“Mmm,” I murmured, mind on other things as I gazed out the window.

The jelly jar was almost empty and was making an awful sound as she scraped her knife along the bottom. She frowned. “Damn—I guess I’m just eating peanut butter on bread.”

She grumbled something under her breath as she rooted through the fridge again. “I’m a terrible clairvoyant,” she admitted dryly, surfacing with cheddar cheese. “So I didn’t get many clear images.”

“Okay,” I said, eyeing the cheese as she started to slice it.

“I did, however, see you in a very beautiful gown,” she looked up at me. “You look stunning in red, kid.”

My aunt cut off a few more slices of cheese and then layered them on top of the peanut butter. My stomach flipped.

“How is that relevant?” I asked, cringing as she took a bite of her PB-and-cheese sandwich.

My aunt swallowed and then reached for the milk and swigged it straight from the carton.

Between her eyebrow piercing and teenage-eating habits, it was hard to believe this woman was north of fifty—or well, she appeared that way.

“Everything’s relevant,” she answered promptly. “I saw you in a dress—meaning you’ll be at a ball or a dance or… something fancy. Fancy events are always pressure and scandal.”

“Er—any idea what this event may be?”

“None,” she said blankly, chewing her lunch. “I also saw a stag, Morda.”

I paled. I was quite familiar with that particular image.

“What does that mean?” I asked, worried for the answer.

My aunt shrugged. “Hard to be sure. Symbols always have multiple meanings, multiple mythologies and connections. It’s hard to say for sure, but what comes to mind is that mark on your chest.”

I looked down at the crude arrow that I had acquired the night of my ceremony. I swallowed thickly. It had healed to a dark brown.

“The Mark of the Moon Goddess,” I breathed.

My aunt nodded, milk staining her upper lip. “Exactly. Artemis is often depicted with a deer next to her. It’s a sign for sure.

“You know that you’re to be the next Clan Mother, but that mark shows that you’re in contention for the position of High Matron.”

“I’m not ready to be either,” I said.

“Obviously,” Aunt Robin agreed, “you know next to nothing, punk. I know for a fact that you never finished ~A Teen’s Guide to All Things Magic and Mystical.~

“You have a lot of training to do before you’ll be ready to replace your mother.”

“So why did you see a deer?”

My aunt frowned.

“I don’t know. But this is a good reminder. Whatever you do, Morda, do not look the High Matron in the eye. Don’t glance, don’t peek, don’t steal a look. Not even through your peripheral vision.”

I felt the weight of her warning. “I’ll try.”

“No,” my aunt protested, “trying isn’t good enough.”

“I won’t,” I corrected.

“Good,” my aunt said with a curt nod. She pushed her sopping hair off her shoulders and slipped out of the room.

I heard her rummaging around in my mother’s voodoo room and swiveled in my chair to watch her enter the kitchen with an ornate wooden box in her hands. “Another present.”

“What is it?” I asked, sitting up on my forearms.

My aunt opened the box slowly and turned it to face me. Inside was another piece of jewelry.

It was a heavy-looking silver band with an even heavier-looking stone set in the middle of it. The stone was a dark, hunter’s green set with deep-red flecks.

“Bloodstone,” my aunt murmured, gazing down at the piece affectionately. “It’s a healing stone. It cleans blood, promotes energy flow, gives one power and vigor.”

She lifted the piece off its cushion and grabbed my arm. She opened the small clasp and then slid it over my upper arm before snapping it into place. I felt its power immediately.

“I already have—”

“I want you to wear those too, but this one is important,” she urged.

“This stone is commonly worn into battle. Of course, we haven’t had to adorn this particular crystal since we divided territory between clans. But I want you to keep this on you, Morda.”

“Why?” I felt my blood begin to freeze over. What trouble was she expecting?

“I didn’t just see a deer and a dress, punk, I saw blood.”

“Who?” I breathed.

She shook her head. “I need to take care of you, Morda. So I want you to wear this, especially when you’re in the presence of the Council. There are … people on that panel who you cannot trust.

“The Council draws an audience from all sorts of supernatural creatures, you will need to be careful when you’re there—you have no idea who will also be there and why. I want to make sure you are protected.”

She hesitated before adding, “You’ll be away from our clan’s territory—I can’t be sure how determined these Daemon Hunters are, but there is always the possibility that they will pursue you…”

Her warning left me with a slight chill. I hadn’t stopped long enough to think about other people seeking out the Council.

I had only imagined the actual panel, had only seen the row of thrones from my nightmares. I certainly hadn’t let my mind entertain the idea of the Hunters coming after me.

“Grant will be with me,” I assured her, “he’ll protect—”

“No,” she said harshly, grabbing my hand with force. “Do ~not~ rely on him. Do ~not~ rely on anyone besides yourself. Grant may be a White Wolf, but not all threats are physical ones.

“I want you to promise me—I want you to swear on our Goddess—that you will not be complacent when it comes to your own safety. I want you to swear that you will, above all else, protect yourself.”

“Of course,” I said with a dumbfounded blink, “I swear it.”

My aunt’s eyes shone for a long moment before she patted my hand and nodded. “Okay, good.” She nodded to herself and then squeezed my hand again. “Good, punk.”

“What do you know about the Council?” I asked.

My aunt sighed. “It has been a long, long time since I was with them. It’s made up of one representative from each supernatural clan.

“From what I recall, they’re the worst of their species—power hungry, manipulative, cruel.”

“Our High Matron?” I asked.

“Is just as bad as the rest of them,” my aunt spat with a curse. “Mayme used to be a good witch, a real kind girl when she was young. But she was corrupted just like the rest of the Council.”

My aunt shook her head. “Mayme knew about those Evers women. She knew that they were being exploited, knew all about the werewolf cults built up around them.

“She knew they were half witch, and when the Eastern Witch Clan found out and made a movement to intervene, she denied them. The rest is bloody history for the wolves and trauma for our poor sisters.”

“Did you tell—”

“Of course not,” my aunt said.

“What good would it do to tell them now? No, it’s best that it all stays in the past. The last thing anyone needs is the wolves rallying behind the Evers pack to enact foolhearted revenge.”

“Why wouldn’t she help them?” I pressed, thinking about Ebony and her mother.

My aunt shrugged.

“The line Haven Evers comes from lost touch with the eastern witches a long time ago—I guess that paired with her involvement with the wolves was enough to make the High Matron turn a blind eye.”

“And the rest of them?” I asked, mulling over this new information. I wondered how it would change Haven and Ebony’s outlooks to know that the eastern witches had been fighting for them.

“Who else should I watch out for?”

“All of them.”

We both shot to our feet as the front door opened.

I relaxed when I saw Grant, a different sort of excitement slipping over my skin as I remembered last night, remembered waking up beside him this morning.

He shook out his pale hair and grinned when he saw me, inclining his head to my aunt. He held the keys to Eve’s neighbor’s Jeep in one hand and a backpack in the other.

I picked up my own bag, gave my aunt a long hug, and then moved to the hallway to greet Grant.

“Everything okay?” he rumbled, one hand sneaking around my waist to press me tightly to his side.

I fought a wave of lust. I was having a hard time turning off those feelings after last night. I would’ve blamed it on our mating bond if I wasn’t entirely sure it was my own hormones.

I nodded. “I’m anxious to leave.” And I was. The earlier we left, the closer we’d be to Ben, and the quicker we’d be back to my mother.

He held out the keys to me. “Go load the car.” His eyes were focused on my aunt who was watching him from the kitchen.

As much as it killed me to do so, I grabbed his backpack and the keys and ran out into the rain so they could speak.

I was biting my nails in the passenger seat as I watched the house, wondering what my aunt was threatening Grant with.

They both emerged a few moments later, my aunt ducking into the rain without pausing to grab her jacket.

She hurried over to my side, and I lowered my window for her, leaning out of it to give her another hug. She smelled like sage and peanut butter; I tried to remember the odd concoction.

“Remember to be safe,” my aunt pressed. “Call if you need help—call if you need Eve. We’ll be here searching for the bellarmine, so try not to worry about your mother. Focus on your task, okay?”

I nodded as Grant slipped into the driver’s side and switched the ignition over so the car rumbled underneath us.

“I will.” I squeezed her hand. Rain was splashing onto my lap and battering the windshield. “Take care of her.”

My aunt nodded and pressed her lips into a thin line before taking a step back. Grant took my hand over the console and threw the car into reverse.

My house receded as we drove down the street, getting gradually smaller the farther we got away.

“We’ll be there in a few hours,” Grant mumbled as we passed by the welcoming sign to Roseburg.

I nodded and sunk a little lower in my seat, focusing on his thumb rubbing circles into the side of my hand as I watched the sign shrink in the side mirror.

I was up before him this morning. I remembered now, lying curled up on his side, one hand pressed firmly to his chest and the other propping up my head.

My eyes traced over him a thousand times, inspecting the curve of his collarbone and the slope of his nose. He always looked so young when he slept, so peaceful.

I had pressed my lips to his, sliding my hand down his chest to his abdomen. His eyelids had flown open, revealing his pale gray eyes to me.

His eyes fell closed a moment later as he brought his hand to my face and kissed me deeply.

I had leaned into his touch, hiking my leg over his and sliding my hand farther along his body. He groaned underneath me and pushed himself onto his elbows, letting me fall away from his hold.

I had pouted, and he had kissed that away before laughing and picking up his shirt from the floor. He kissed my forehead one more time before disappearing.

“What are you thinking about?” Grant asked, peeking over at me from the driver’s seat. He was a relaxed driver, comfortable behind the wheel despite the infrequency of his driving.

I blushed. “Nothing—just daydreaming.”

To my relief, Grant didn’t push. “When we get to the Evers’ territory, you need to let me do most of the speaking. I’m not trying to silence you—I know you can handle yourself.

“But we’re not dealing with alphas anymore, we’re dealing with kings. I’m hoping—praying really—that King Sebastian didn’t feel it necessary to contact the White Wolves.”

I squeezed his hand. “And if he did?”

Grant grimaced. “Awkward for sure, but not unmanageable. I’d rather just avoid Olivia Emmerson altogether if I can.

“She’ll start asking questions about my search for the man who escaped our last mission, and I’ll have no answers despite being caught up with you.”

I grinned wickedly and placed my other hand on his upper arm. “Is that such a bad thing?” I gave him a look that expressed just how bad we could be together.

His left hand tightened on the wheel. “Do you enjoy teasing me, witch?”

I laughed and let him be. “Of course, wolf.”

Grant shook his head, a grin spreading over his features. It lightened my heart every time I saw him smile. I worked hard to earn them. “We’ll need to think carefully while we’re bargaining.

“We don’t want any of them—not the Evers, not the Royals, and not Cerberus—to know that meeting with the Council is also in our best interest, so don’t mention your mother.

“We’ll have to include Ben’s pack too now.”

I smiled. “I thought they weren’t a pack.”

He rolled his eyes at me. “The last thing we want is them being thrown into a cell while we’re gone just so we have to launch another rescue mission.”

Grant hesitated for a moment, increasing the speed of the window wipers. “And as for Ben, we need to make sure he’s kept safe while we’re gone.”

I nodded, my throat closing with emotion. I knew how hard it was for him to consider Ben’s well-being, knew how hard it was for him to make sure Ben was there so I could choose between them.

It was in these moments that I loved Grant the most, these moments that made me sure I couldn’t live without him. But then I would see tawny eyes and think again.

“Do you expect trouble?” I asked, feeling the weight of my bloodstone under my jacket.

Grant’s face was tight. “I always expect trouble.”

We passed the rest of the ride in near silence, only speaking briefly to one another.

Grant was going over the upcoming discussion, the impending challenge of convincing three separate powers to see this situation our way. I was busy thinking about Ben—worrying, really.

Grant led us into an unfamiliar town. “Welcome to Astoria.” We passed strip malls and a high school before we drove into the suburbs. The first house on the street was our destination.

From the size of it, I was surprised they were able to fit any more homes on the road. It was massive. I recognized the layout as the Evers’ pack house; this was the front that I never got to see.

“Wow,” I murmured as Grant parallel parked on the road. He squeezed my hand one more time before letting go and turning off the engine.

We sat in silence for a long moment before Grant smiled over at me, his face tense.

“Let’s go,” he urged. I nodded, unable to respond, and unclipped my seat belt.

Grant knocked on the door, and I waited, standing just behind him. He was tense and closed off, the line of his shoulders straight and rigid.

I wanted to reach out and take his hand, but he was no longer my Grant, he was the White Wolf—the predator.

Axel yanked the door open. “You’re two days late.” He didn’t say anything else as he held the door ajar and stepped back to let us in.

The house was extremely quiet. I looked around, wondering where all the activity had gone.

Grant stayed close by my side, his arm brushing mine every few steps. I was happy to have him close as my nerves increased. Axel said nothing as he led us through the house, his wide back tense.

He stopped in front of a set of double doors and frowned down at us. “Go in.”

Grant snuck a look back at me before opening the door. The room was large and theater-like, most likely used for meetings.

The Evers had a large pack, and a room with rows of seating and a small stage was probably needed to get everyone gathered.

Grant led the way, and I followed him with Axel bringing up the rear of our little group. I looked around, catching Ebony’s friendly face first.

She smiled as we walked in, eyes moving to Axel and then back to me. Her mother and father were sitting beside her, the Luna tense and the alpha frustrated.

I saw Alpha Dane next. A shiver ran through me as I caught his dark eyes holding nothing but contempt for me.

I hadn’t forgotten his threat at our last meeting. Hadn’t stopped hearing his promise to rip my throat out with his canines. I forced myself to smile bitterly, hoping to remind him of my fire.

I heard his growl from across the room.

I saw a stunningly beautiful couple next. The woman captured my attention immediately. She had long, golden hair and fine features.

Her eyes were made richer by the light-blue long-sleeved dress she wore and the diadem set with sapphires that rested on her head. This was the Queen.

Her partner was as striking as she was. With sharp, chiseled features and deep-green eyes, the King was as handsome as he was intimidating.

I didn’t know what it was about his dark hair and cut jaw, but I got the impression that he was a man who was quick to anger.

“Is this her?” he asked, standing as his eyes moved to Alpha Evers. Wordlessly, Logan inclined his head. The King of Werewolves turned his eyes back to me.

“Interesting. It’s nice to meet you.” He inclined his head toward us, and Grant and I followed suit.

I looked around, searching for the most important face. When I saw him, I nearly crumpled.

I reached out and held on to Grant’s forearm tightly, needing his strength to stay upright—to not bolt to Ben’s side.

His face was purple and swollen, his left eye completely closed and a long cut running over his right.

Bruises covered both sides of his jaw, and his nose looked wrong—it had been broken, but no one had taken the time to set it.

His lip was cut and swollen, and from the looks of his chest and arms, the rest of him wasn’t much better.

I felt heat rise to my palms.

Logan shook his head in distaste, clearly frustrated that Cerberus had harmed Ben.

Haven’s face was pinched as she looked over to Ben, her eyes guarded as she glared toward the alpha of the bounty hunters.

The King took a few steps toward us, his eyes vividly green. “I hear that you’re a witch.”

“She’s a raging bitch, your highness,” Dane grunted, “don’t shake her hand, or she’ll burn you.” No one laughed.

King Sebastian’s eyes darkened, and his mouth tensed until it twitched. He turned around sharply and set his shoulders back.

“How dare you?” he thundered. “How dare you be so disrespectful to this woman? I asked her to be here, to negotiate in good faith, and you disgust me by undermining my word. Don’t you ~dare~ speak again.”

Alpha Dane didn’t seem shaken by this reprimand. He simply settled into a deep glare, which he directed toward me. I fought off a smirk and failed.

The King turned back to me and held out a hand. “Sebastian Winchester,” he introduced.

“Morda Morano,” I answered, my voice tight as I looked at Ben again. He was staring at me.

He looked to Grant. “I hear you’re a White Wolf.”

“You hear correctly,” Grant rumbled.

The King smiled. “Great, well, let’s get down to it.”

“Gladly,” Grant answered, his eyes focused on Dane with ill-contained fury. I supposed it was hard for him to let go of the ~raging bitch~ comment.

“I want to be a part of this supernatural council. I want you to go to them and voice my interest on my behalf.

“I want to offer you Benjamin Harlow as a token of good faith, and I want you to return in a week with good news.”

Grant bristled. “Why can’t you go to this council yourself?”

The King’s smile dipped slightly. “I believe it is less threatening to the other rulers if I send a representative rather than storming the castle myself.”

Grant shrugged and rolled his weight to one foot. He was the picture of ease. “We won’t do it just for Harlow, we want the rest of his ragtag pack of outlaws.”

The King’s jaw tightened. “They’re to be processed by the Crown—”

“Then find another witch,” I snapped.

The King tensed, jaw working as he tried to contain his anger. His mate jumped up and tossed her blond hair over her shoulder before stalking over.

“We can release the other boys,” she said softly, “but we need results first. We’re both very interested in uniting the supernatural world.” Alpha Dane growled.

“Serena,” the King said.

She ignored him. “Their offenses are minuscule in comparison to the wealth of knowledge and protection we could accumulate through an alliance with the other supernatural clans.

“I think the freedom of four boys is worth that, don’t you, Seb?”

The King nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”

The Queen smiled. “Great, it’s settled then.”

Grant was still firm. “We want the safety of Benjamin Harlow and his pack to be secured. I want Alpha Evers to swear on it, and I want you to give me an oath that they will all be unharmed.

“And lastly, I want Alpha Dane to be removed from this territory.”

The King smirked. “You’ll take Benjamin Harlow with you.” I let my eyes slide over to Ben and caught him staring. His eyes were so dark and swollen I could barely make out their brilliant golden hue.

Grant stiffened. “No.”

The King cocked his head, but the Queen spoke before he could.

“Take Benjamin with you, that way his safety is guaranteed. We want the Council to see the return of him to his clan as an act of good faith.”

Grant laughed bitterly without humor. “Good faith? You’re sending him back covered in bruises. They’re going to think you’re a joke.”

The Queen stiffened, her blue eyes narrowed for the first time. “We never intended for him to be harmed. We were told by Alpha Dane that the injuries were sustained during capture.”

“Bullshit,” Grant spat.

“Watch your mouth,” the King thundered.

“It is bullshit,” Alpha Evers said as he stood.

“I was the one who captured the shifting wolf-boy, and I can assure you that the worst injury he sustained was a twisted ankle. The rest of it was inflicted by Alpha Dane of the—”

“Liar,” Dane bellowed.

The King whipped around, fury racking his frame. “I told you not to open your goddamn mouth, Dane!” The amount of testosterone in this room was dangerous.

The Queen tilted her chin up. “Regardless of his injuries, we want him to accompany the two of you.

“He will heal, and when you reach the Council, we request that you present him to the leader of his clan in good faith and as a promise to reconcile any differences.”

Grant controlled his reaction better this time.

“This just shows how woefully underprepared you are. Sons of the moon cannot exist together. Benjamin Harlow will never meet his representative as his clan leader has never met one son he represents.”

The King was losing patience.

“Enough. You will take Benjamin Harlow, and you will approach the Council on my behalf. If you do not, you will return to Astoria to see the outlaws in prison and Alpha Dane running this territory.”

“Sebastian,” the Queen protested.

He ignored her. “And even more, ~White Wolf~, I will see to it that your hiatus from your Goddess-given position comes to an end.” King Sebastian took two steps toward Grant so they were face-to-face.

Grant was slightly taller, but the King’s fury put them on equal footing. “I will put you back under the thumb of Olivia Emmerson until you die, do you understand me?”

Grant's gaze was icy. “I understand you perfectly, Your Highness.”

The King swung his gaze to me. “And you, witch. You may be unfamiliar with my world, but I promise you that any disobedience will have severe consequences for your escorts.

“I expect to have an audience with this council, I expect to be welcomed into their community. If I hear that you have jeopardized this, then I will make sure your friends in this pack pay for it.”

I looked up to see Axel’s harsh glare, Ebony’s look of outrage, and Haven’s and Logan’s tight faces. I looked back to the King and glared. I should have left it alone.

“Fair enough, but let me return a warning of my own. I am the future Clan Mother of the Western Witch Clan and the next successor to the title of High Matron.

“I am a wielder of fire magic, and I have a direct link to a pretty badass tree witch.

“If I return here and find the Evers harmed or Ben’s pack injured, I will make sure that your castle is turned to ash and your crown is melted in your hands.”

I took a step toward him, tilting my face up to look him squarely in the eyes.

“Don’t you dare threaten me or my friends, don’t you dare expect that I will allow myself to be walked all over. You harm my friends, and I’ll make sure you burn.”

It was quiet for a long, long moment.

The King broke out into a large smile. “We have a deal.”

We shook hands, and everyone in the room visibly relaxed. The Queen moved to speak with the Evers, and the King clapped Grant on the back as they chatted.

Only Alpha Dane remained tense, his eyes boring into the side of my face.

I turned and watched as Axel removed the cuffs they had placed around Ben’s hands. I took a few steps toward him and hesitated, waiting for him to take a moment and come to me.

Ben rubbed at his wrists and grimaced up at Axel before he raised his face to me.

His dark hair hung limply across his forehead, casting a shadow over his brilliant eyes. The bruises on his face haunted me, the angle of his nose increasing my heart rate in concern.

I winced as he took a few stumbling steps forward, stopping to grit his teeth and adjust his gait.

I called his name, and then I took off across the room, flying toward him. I heard Grant call my name but didn’t stop until I was standing right in front of Ben.

He swallowed thickly as he looked at me, tears collecting in his eyes.

“Morda.” He said my name in a way that made me think it was the first word he had said in weeks. He raised his cut hands up to my face, his fingers shaking.

I pressed my lips to his hand and held them as he cupped my face. He tilted his head so our foreheads touched and let his shoulders shake in a sob.

I cried too, relief and fury and grief mixing high in my chest. He was here and alive and in my hands, but he was hurt and shaking and traumatized.

I held on to him tightly and closed my eyes. I didn’t want to see his bruised face, didn’t want to remember how I had failed him.

I still felt the power of our touch, the undeniable and unshakable connection between us. He slid his hands to my jaw and lifted my face to meet his eyes.

I felt him press his lips against mine, and I was back in the forest with him, I was burning with him again.

His kiss was light, his lower lip busted and his face bruised to holy hell. I was as gentle as I could be, resisting the urge to press myself tightly to him.

He was injured and would take time to heal. There would be time for pressing later.

Ben took my hand from the side of his neck and squeezed it tightly, his knuckles busted but beginning to scab over. Seeing his injuries ignited a new fury inside of me.

One day, when this was all over, I would make Dane pay for the unnecessary beating he had delivered to Ben.

I was in complete bliss with Ben’s hand in mine until I looked up and saw Grant. His face told me everything I needed to know. He was devastated.

Completely and utterly ruined after watching my reunion with Ben. Despite his pretty words, he would never be able to share me—would never be able to support me if I chose Ben.

I opened my mouth to ramble off some excuse, but I closed it promptly. His eyes were guarded now, his mouth twisted into a bitter scowl.

He wouldn’t call me ~witch~, and I wouldn’t call him ~wolf~. Not when Ben was holding my hand.

I felt pressure on my fingers and ripped my gaze away from Grant to look up at Ben. His one visible eye was intense.

“We have a lot of catching up to do,” he murmured. I nodded thickly and lowered my eyes. Ben tugged on my hand. “Is everything—”

“We need to go.”

I looked up to find Grant standing rigidly beside us.

He had fixed his gaze across the room, refusing to look either one of us in the eye. His jaw was tense, and his hands were fastened into fists at his side.

“Grant—” I began.

He winced when I said his name. “We should get going,” he repeated, his voice level and without inflection. “We don’t have much time.”

Ben nodded, his fingers interlocking with mine. I wanted to sever our connection, but I also wanted to pull him closer. “I agree, we should say our goodbyes and get going.”

Ben grimaced as he released my hand, brushing his fingers over his split knuckles. “I’ll be back in a moment, I need to say goodbye to the guys and let them know the outcome of the negotiation.”

Grant nodded stiffly. “We’ll be by the car.”

“Thank you,” Ben said genuinely, “for bringing Morda here and fighting for my friends.”

Grant said nothing.

Ben leaned down to kiss my cheek and then disappeared. Grant didn’t wait for a full second before he turned on his heel and started stalking away.

He was out of the theater room before I had the chance to blink.

I scrambled after him, calling his name to no avail. I finally caught up with him on the street, and he whipped around to face me, his pale eyes rimmed with red and his hair out of sorts.

“Just give me a minute, Morda.”

“You knew that Ben and I—”

“I need a ~fucking minute, ~Morda,” he seethed.

I gave him a second. “Grant—you said that you wanted Ben—you said you wanted me to choose honestly—you said that… I know that it is hard to see… I didn’t want…” I trailed off.

I was too inept to handle this situation. What could I say to console him? To make it any easier?

Grant raked his hands through his hair.

“Yeah—I said a lot of things, but they were a lot easier to say when he wasn’t standing right in fucking front of me kissing the woman I love.” Grant’s voice was hoarse, and his voice was tight and tense.

My heart was split into two equal parts.

“Grant…,” I murmured, reaching for his hand. He yanked it away before I could grasp it. I bit my lip, trying to hide how much it hurt for him to deny me.

He was shaking with anger and emotion. “I’m fine,” he said, trying to convince himself. “I can fucking handle myself, okay? I can handle this.”

He rubbed his jaw and leaned back against the Jeep. “Fuck.”

I took a step toward him, eager to try again. He didn’t seem to fight me, just watched wearily as I took his hand.

I heard footfalls behind us and dropped his fingers before taking a quick step backward. Grant’s eyes died a little.

Ben didn’t hesitate as he took my hand in his. I watched Grant’s teeth grind together.

“I’m ready to go if you are,” Ben said lightly. If he was aware that Grant and I had been having a moment, he didn’t let on.

Grant said nothing, just banged his fist lightly on the hood of the car and swung around to the driver’s side. Neither Ben nor I drove, so he would be doing double shifts.

The car rumbled to life and Ben brushed a kiss against my cheek before climbing into the passenger’s seat.

I stood and stared at the Jeep, at the two men sitting stiff and tense inside. Dread settled over me as I remembered my aunt’s warning and my mother’s waning health.

The next few weeks would be painful. It would be a long journey with Grant, Ben, and me stuck together, but I needed both of them by my side if I was going to be successful.

I needed to know if the Council would accept werewolves back into their world. I needed to know how to save my mother. I needed to know how to defeat the Daemon Hunters.

I needed answers, and I was on a hunt to find them.

^End of Book One^