Chapter Thirty-Four
Bridget Winslow
Safe in His Arms
The bond floods back through me like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. Complete. Perfect. Whole. Every heartbeat pulses with the familiar connection I thought was lost forever. Bast’s presence fills that terrible void the Mathairs had created inside me.
I’m cradled against his chest, his skin warm against my cheek. Love and relief wash over me in waves so intense they bring tears to my eyes. All I can focus on is the steady thump of his heart matching mine, the way our breath syncs naturally, the absolute rightness of being connected again.
“Brianna?” Her name comes out as barely a whisper, panic fluttering in my chest as memory crashes back. Did she make it out?
“She’s safe,” Bast murmurs against my hair, his arms tightening around me. “Outside with Emma. Protected. Finn stayed outside with them.” His fingers trace gentle patterns on my skin where the knife went in, though there’s no wound there now. Just smooth flesh and dried blood on ruined fabric.
My fingers find Bast’s and his hand covers mine protectively. I sag in relief against him. My sister is safe. We’re both free. The Mathairs didn’t win.
“I thought—” My voice cracks. “When they broke our bond, I thought that was it. That I’d never feel this again.” Never feel complete. Never feel his soul touching mine, his strength flowing through me, his love surrounding me like armor.
“You. Are. Mine,” he growls, the sound rumbling through his chest where my ear presses against him. “They can try to separate us, but I’ll always come back to you.”
I force myself to look beyond Bast’s embrace, to take in what’s left of the courtyard where I spent countless hours training.
Bodies litter the perfectly manicured grass.
It’s terrible and tragic and I wish there had been another way to overthrow the Mathairs.
There wasn’t. There never would have been.
We’re lucky it didn’t cost even more blood.
Bast helps me stand, his hands steady as my legs shake. His protective instincts surge as I sway slightly. But I need to see this.
Some of Delta Team lies broken near the steps up to the castle.
These women helped forge me into a weapon, taught me to kill without hesitation.
Now they’re just…gone. I should feel something more than this hollow relief.
Should mourn the death of my teachers. Instead, all I can think is—never again.
They’ll never hurt another child like they hurt me.
“You’re shaking.” Bast’s voice is gentle, his arm sliding around my waist.
“I grew up here.” The words come out raw as I gesture at the carnage. “Trained here. Every day, right there.” My gaze catches on a fallen practice dummy, knocked over in the fight. How many hours did I spend hitting that target, desperate to prove myself worthy? To keep Brianna safe?
Bast’s fury mingles with fierce protectiveness. His thumb traces circles on my hip, grounding me as memories threaten to overwhelm. “You’re not theirs any longer,” he says. “You’re my mate. You’re pack. You’re free.”
Free.
The word echoes through me like a bell tone. The Court’s perfect walls are scarred with spell damage, the carefully tended lawns trampled by massive wolf paws. Everything they built, everything they controlled—it’s all finished.
Blood coats my bare feet—my blood, their blood, I’m not sure. But as much as I hate this place, I didn’t hate everyone here. But I don’t want to be here.
Ever again.
“Please. I need to go. Please.”
“Of course, my love.” Bast scoops me into his arms.
I close my eyes and suck in a sob. Tears burn down my cheeks.
“I’ve got you.”
A crash echoes from inside the castle, making me flinch. Bast’s arms tighten around me, but all I feel is calm. The fight is over. We won.
The sound of running feet makes us both tense, but it’s just Lawrence emerging from the main castle door. Blood streaks his face and his shirt is torn.
“The Mathairs?” Bast’s voice carries an edge of steel.
Lawrence shakes his head. “Gone. They destroyed the inner gateway behind them.” His eyes meet mine.
They escaped. The words take a moment to sink in.
“The other courts are cut off from Salem. They can’t ever use that portal again.”
They’re gone…for now.
“What about the younger witches?” My heart clenches thinking of the girls still in training, remembering how young I was when the Mathairs started molding me into their weapon. “Did any survive?”
“Yes, they’re being gathered in the practice halls,” Lawrence says. “They’ll need to choose—stay and break ties with the Mathairs completely, or leave through the outer gateway before we change the seal.”
“You’re keeping the Court?”
Lawrence nods. “We don’t have the skills to build one ourselves.
Meredith was one of the few witches outside the Mathairs’ Courts with the ability.
Salem Court will help my coven tremendously, and give North America a strong base against the European Mathairs should they come to investigate. And they will eventually.”
He’s right. They will. But it will take time.
I lean into Bast’s warmth, letting our bond steady me.
“I need to get you out of here,” Bast murmurs against my hair.
“Yes, please.”
Bast carries me across the courtyard, then the lawn, toward the small circle of white stones. The transition from artificial lavender sky to real afternoon sunlight makes me blink. The perfectly normal backyard of the Salem colonial house seems surreal after everything that’s happened.
He sets me gently on my feet, steadying me when my legs wobble.
While Bast slips into jeans, a T-shirt, and boots I recognize, I scan the yard, half expecting to see more bodies.
Instead, there are just scattered piles of clothing everywhere—evidence of where the wolves shifted before storming the Court.
My fingers curl against my palms, still ready for a fight that’s already over.
Bast picks me back up and continues through the yard and the house.
Rachel waits by one of the cars on the road in front of the main house, her face tight. “The others are inside the various houses the Court owned,” she tells Bast. “Some of the younger witches want to stay. Lawrence and Lila are handling them.”
“Good.” Bast’s arms tighten around me protectively. “I’m taking Bridget into town and getting us a room.”
Rachel steps closer, her hands already weaving a subtle pattern in the air.
“Hold on. Let me…” A gentle warmth cascades over my skin as she murmurs under her breath.
The cuts and scratches fade, and I feel the sticky residue of blood dissolve away.
She touches my hand gently and flashes me a soft smile. “I’ve got Brianna, okay?”
I nod and then let my head sink back against Bast’s chest.
“Thank you, Rachel. And call if anything urgent comes up,” Bast says, already moving toward one of the cars. He settles me in the passenger seat before sliding behind the wheel.
The drive through Salem’s historic streets feels dreamlike. Tourist groups wander past in colonial costumes, snapping photos, completely unaware of the battle that just took place blocks away. Bast pulls up to a small bed-and-breakfast—all gingerbread trim and climbing roses.
“Here.” He wraps a jacket around my shoulders. “Let’s get you inside.”
The elderly woman at the front desk takes one look at my bare feet and exhausted face and springs into action. “Poor dear! What happened?”
I manage a weak laugh, leaning into Bast for support. “Would you believe I lost them to a very persistent squirrel in the park? Apparently, they’re expanding their acorn storage solutions this year.”
The innkeeper chuckles, her concern melting into amusement. “Well, that’s certainly a new one. Those Salem squirrels are getting quite bold, indeed.”
“We’ve been traveling,” Bast adds, playing along. “And clearly making some questionable decisions about wildlife encounters.”
“It’s our honeymoon,” I add, flashing her a bigger smile. “The airport lost our luggage and then the hotel down on Main lost our reservations, so we were hoping—”
“Oh, you poor things. Let me get you our best room.” She hands over keys, then adds, “I’ll have some food sent up, and I can run to the store for whatever else you might need.”
“Fresh clothes for both of us,” Bast says, already guiding me toward the stairs. “And maybe some basic toiletries. I’ll take care of payment as soon as I get her settled. Thank you.”
“Consider it done,” she calls after us.
The room is covered in floral wallpaper and filled with antique furniture. A huge claw-foot tub sits in the attached bathroom. Bast starts filling it immediately, testing the water temperature with one hand while supporting me with the other.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he murmurs, helping me out of my clothes. His touch is gentle as he helps me into the steaming water.
I sink into the warmth with a sigh, letting it ease my aching muscles. Bast kneels beside the tub, one hand stroking my hair. Our bond pulses between us, steady and strong—a reminder that we survived. That we’re together.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
For the first time since I was dragged from his bed, I believe it.
He strips out of his clothes and climbs into the tub behind me, pulling me back against his chest. The simple contact breaks something inside me. All the fear, the pain, the helplessness of watching them hurt my sister, of having our bond ripped away—it crashes through me in waves.
The first sob tears from my throat before I can stop it. Then another. And another.
“That’s it,” Bast murmurs, his arms tightening around me. “Let it out. You’re safe now.” His love and support wrap around me like a warm blanket.
“They hurt her so much,” I choke out between sobs. “For years. I watched them hurt her and I kept doing everything they wanted so they wouldn’t kill her. I just—”
“You survived,” he says firmly, working the cloth over my shoulders. “You both survived. And now you never have to go back.” His touch is so gentle as he washes away the evidence of everything I’ve endured.
I curl into him, my whole body shaking with the force of my tears. “When they broke our bond… I thought… I couldn’t feel you anymore and I—”
“I know.” He presses his lips to my temple. “I felt it too. But you’re mine. Bond or not.” His hands move steadily, methodically cleaning every inch of me.
The water grows cool, but I can’t stop crying. Years of carefully contained emotion pour out of me like a broken dam. Bast just holds me, murmuring soft words of comfort, his touch anchoring me to the present.
“You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known,” he says softly. “But you don’t have to be strong right now. Just let go. I’ve got you.”
When my tears finally slow, he helps me out of the tub, wrapping me in thick towels. My legs are shaky, but he scoops me up easily, carrying me to the bed. I curl into him the moment he slides under the covers with me.
“Sleep,” he whispers, pulling me close.
Safe in his arms, our bond humming perfectly between us, I finally let exhaustion pull me under.