Chapter Fifteen – Ryder #2
Inside, Carina leads us into a small living room immediately to our left.
The couch is beneath the bay window, and a coffee table scattered with candles rests in front.
A fireplace sits adjacent, unlit, and beside it is a padded chair that Morgan stands in front of.
The muscles of her jaw twitch as the three of us trail Carina in.
“You better have a good reason for inviting them in here.”
The scents of spices and herbs, candles and plants, Morgan and Carina, assault my nose. It’s strong of her—and that of magick and witchcraft.
Conan and Xander enter, claiming the wall to our left, while I remain in the doorway to both protect and defend from threats.
Carina heads for the couch, but I catch her arm at the last second, murmuring in her ear, “That was your chance to escape.”
“I stick to my deals.”
The more time I spend with her, despite the timeline being embarrassingly short, the more I understand why nature picked her. Packs respect honour and loyalty. Carina is the definition of honour. She honoured the deal by coming to the camp, and she’s honouring her agreement to help Dad.
So far anyway.
Morgan puffs a breath, drawing her daughter’s attention away before she steps out of my grip. “If the coven learns they’re here—”
“Good thing you are the coven,” Carina snips, interrupting her mother as she drops onto the couch. “Besides, how are they any different than the vampire who once stood in that very spot?” She gestures to me in the doorway.
Morgan settles into the chair, nails digging into her palms to not-so-subtly hide her unwillingness to play by Carina’s rules. “Tell me what’s going on.”
“Twilight Grove.”
Morgan inhales sharply; the house’s atmosphere changes tides from irritation to trepidation as the two witches wade through the quiet storm those two words brought on.
“They want me, for some reason. They attacked the pack and infused Alaric with Darkness. It’s killing him. That’s why I was the Treaty Day request.”
Despite the importance of the conversation, I can’t help but scan the room as she explains everything from this morning when she met my father, and everything I recounted from my interaction with the other coven.
There’s a picture on the far side table that captures my attention. One of Carina, clearly a few years younger, and grinning into the camera while elevating a puddle from the ground.
When she finishes her story, Morgan leaps to her feet in a flurry of panic and fury, that brewing storm taking flight. She directs it towards us—until Carina once again steps between us while ignoring my pointed growl.
Woman’s going to get herself killed one day if she doesn’t learn basic survival instincts.
“You’re not going back there.” Morgan shifts some of her fury towards her daughter, her brows drawn low and tight in concentrated anger—while a hint of panic alights within her violet eyes, not as hidden as she aimed to make it.
“I’ll tie you to this house, if I must. You are staying safe behind coven lines, and I won’t hear another word about this. ”
“What is wrong with you?” Carina jams her hands into her hair, drawing my attention to the flush creeping up her neck. “Their issues are ours. We have to help! A coven went after them.”
“Which is no different than how it’s been for centuries between our kinds.” She jabs a finger in my direction, her manicured nail nothing like the female shifters would dare, or bother, having. “You want to help them? They’ll hand you over to Twilight Grove to save their own asses.”
Never.
Keep her.
Protect.
Because, of course, my wolf isn’t looking at the camp’s safety over hers. Morgan’s right about one thing; Carina will be given to Twilight Grove.
Carina steps back, nearing me. An action that doesn’t slip by anyone—especially her mother, if the tick of her jaw is any indication. “Avoiding isn’t an option. You heard what Freya told us. We can’t ignore the war.”
“I’m trying to protect you!” Morgan roars in a tone that’d rival a wolf’s. Her eyes flicker white as sparks decorates her hair at the same time winds whips, strong enough to push us over and destroy the room, yet everything remains unmoving.
Protect.
Before I can move, Carina does, throwing up her arms. Water splashes from her palms in a stiff enough wave, it not only breaks Morgan’s magick, but throws her back into the chair.
It drenches the floor, but neither witch appears bothered by their house becoming a mess, locked in a silent battle of wills and undiluted rage.
“Holy shit,” Xander breathes, thrilled, but me…I don’t like this at all. I’m torn between letting them argue it out and doing the smart thing by not getting in the middle of a witch fight or doing what instincts demand and taking Carina to safety.
Morgan, panting and soaked, casts daggers at her daughter, meanwhile Carina remains rigid in her stance. “You attacked your mother. Your High Priestess.”
“I attacked my High Priestess because my mother is being selfish, which is everything opposite both of you taught me.” Carina’s tone takes on a strange, deadly calm that reminds me of my wolf, right before he leaps on prey.
“Being a High Priestess involves making smart decisions. How is not helping the pack smart?”
“I won’t lose you to this,” Morgan replies, her tone softening—pleading—a hesitant calm.
Maybe fighting is an everyday-normal for them and that’s why they’ve already moved past it.
Fuck knows the pack has some aggressive ways of dealing with one another.
“If Twilight Grove is after you, they’ll turn you Dark, like they did Harlow, and I’ll lose you. ”
My wolf lurches inside me. Lose her?
Carina gestures to the floor and the water gets soaked up and disappears. “Then it sounds like they’ll keep searching for me, no matter what we do about the pack.”
“We’ll hide you. Across the world, if we must.”
“And spend my life on the run? No thanks. Besides”—Carina glances over her shoulder at me, her purple eyes keeping her promise—“none of this helps Alaric. We have to, Mom. He’s…not well.”
Morgan lifts to her feet again and dries herself with a quick spell, both deeming their fight concluded.
She glances at me to say, “There is no helping him, I’m truly sorry.
After twenty years of meetings, I’ll admit, Alaric is kind.
I never had issues with the pack while he’s been Alpha.
But black magick is something else entirely.
To remove it, a witch would have to take it into themselves, becoming Dark in the process, and no one here would make that sacrifice. ”
Coming here was for Carina more than us, but fuck, I clung to the fragile possibility of good news that’d help Dad and not involve handing Carina to a bunch of sycophants.
“Can we call Harlow?” Carina asks in a tone of helplessness that just about does me in. “She’d be able to take it without issue.”
Morgan grimaces, glancing out the bay window. “Freya was pretty adamant about her staying away.”
Carina’s despair tickles my nose. It’s the closest she and I will ever get to a complete bond. Once chosen and officially bonded, mates can sense one another’s feelings. With us, I’ll only be left with her emotionally charged scent.
That…kind of bothers me.
“Then it’s official, I’m going back.” Carina’s back tenses as she shifts to the right, once again keeping her mother and me away from one another.
“If we can’t help Alaric with the black magick, we have to trust Twilight Grove will keep their end of the deal.
I’ll return with Ryder and go to them willingly.
It’s the only way to help the pack and maybe gain a bit of insight into what’s going on. ”
Morgan’s face flushes red, that previous rage quickly returning. “Carina—”
“Think about it,” she snaps. “This is a blessing in disguise. We have zero clue what they’re doing.
Harlow only learned what she was told, and Freya only gave what she was allowed to.
Why me? Who’s next? When do they think this war is happening?
We know they partnered with vampires, but anyone else?
Mom, we have no idea how to get these answers, but if I’m there with them, I can. ”
“Carina—”
“I’m doing this, no matter what you say. You want me to be a High Priestess, but we still need a coven to call home for me to lead. This is a sacrifice I’ll make. Let me help us. Let me save the pack.”
Conan curses. Xander inhales sharply. Morgan looks mixed between fury and astonishment. My wolf is howling to protect her, to not let her anywhere near the idiotic plan she’s concocted.
All while the ground feels like it’s rumbling beneath my feet at the thought of her walking into danger.