Chapter 18 – Carina
Eighteen
CARINA
Ryder’s vow hovers between us, as precarious as this entire situation. While my heart takes off with his promise of safety, logic quells it. He doesn’t mean that. They’re words and nothing more.
Yet, I find myself asking, “Why would you?”
His expression is blank, but the rough brush of his fingers reminds me of the intimate way he’s holding my face. And how my body is a mere inch from his—his heat warming me more than his sweater, melting me back to life from the numbness Mom’s revelation left me in.
“We respect warriors, and what you’re doing involves a warrior’s courage.
You’re going to a coven intent to change you, and not for the better.
You’ll save a shifter who’s considered your enemy, your coven, and from what I’ve gathered, the others as well.
No matter who or what they make you into, I’ll come for you, Carina. I’ll bring you home.”
Emotion tingles the backs of my eyes, and I sway in place, reaching for the air to keep me suspended.
Is it possible to feel such a strangely intimate connection to a person already?
Talking with Ryder isn’t anything like the others; he doesn’t terrify me for all the reasons he should.
He feels safe, especially holding me how he is.
It makes zero sense, and I wish I understood this obvious trauma response.
“Breathe for me. You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I feel it, but I part my lips to take in as much air as I can—Banff mingling with Ryder. I hold it for a few seconds and then release on a slow breath.
“Again.”
I obey him easier than any order Mom has ever given, and without the thought of rebellion.
“That’s good. Better?”
How do I admit that he singlehandedly helped ease the weight I ran outside being crushed by? I don’t, so I merely lower my chin and break my gaze. The house, and two shifters in front of it, redirect my focus to where exactly we are and what I should be doing instead.
As the moment passes, Ryder’s hand slowly drops from my chin and he steps away, taking with him that warm sense of belonging that’s been pulling me his way. Silver flashes through his eyes, but he looks away just as quickly, concealing whatever the moment meant for him too.
“I’ll be back.”
As I head for the house, the two wolves move out of my way and pass me with a considerable long look. I don’t look behind me to see them join Ryder as I enter through the door and call out for Mom.
“Kitchen,” she shouts, so I go there, finding her seated at the table with hands wrapped around a cup of tea, one finger tapping the handle repetitively.
Tightness squeezes my chest as I settle in the chair across from her; a feeling probably similar to what she’s experiencing. The power to make or break our relationship rests with me.
“Did you ever want kids?”
She hesitates, chewing on her bottom lip. “Not really. I wasn’t chasing a relationship or a family. The Sinclairs were close friends and always destined to have a child, so I’d get my fill through them. That’s not to say I haven’t enjoyed being a mother—being your mother.”
“Thank you.” I stretch, resting a hand on top of hers, halting the slight quiver to hers.
“For giving up your life to raise me. Whoever my birth mother was, she chose the best house to drop me at. If she’s watching from Summerland, she’ll be happy to see what I’ve become—the woman you made me into.
My chance at this life is because you took me in.
Whatever the story behind my birth is doesn’t matter.
I’m curious, but not so much I’d ever risk this one to figure it out. ”
She squeezes my hand back in return, gratitude seeping through her touch. “It’s been simple to raise such a wonderful woman. But for you, for your mother, I would like to know the truth.”
“Maybe going to Twilight Grove will get me those answers.”
At the mention of them, Mom’s skin turns ashy and she rips her hand away to stand, circling the kitchen. “I really wish you weren’t doing this, especially after what you now know.”
“I’m not re-hashing this.” I sigh, falling against the chair’s backing. “I’ve only come to say goodbye and pack a bag.”
“Why not remain here and the wolves can return for you in a few days?”
Ryder wouldn’t go for that. He’d want me close, not trusting we wouldn’t fuck them over. I’d do the same in his position.
“It’s not what I’ve agreed to. Before I go, I’m hoping you might have a pain potion or something we could give Alaric to hold him over.”
She stops pacing, the instinct to deny helping them almost instant in her defensive snarl, but it’s gone by my second plea. “I’ll grab him something while you pack.”
With that, I take my exit, heading upstairs to my bedroom. There’s an old backpack discarded on the floor that I stuff a hoodie, sweats, leggings, sneakers, jeans, and a couple tops into. Anything frilly, feminine, or summery remains in my drawers; they won't do for my unwanted camping trip.
Then I change out of my dress and into more suitable clothing before re-dressing in Ryder’s hoodie.
The room is central to my entire life—my childhood.
There are pictures of Mom and me hung on my wall, others of Jasper and me.
The only one I have of Harlow, from my sixth birthday, is in a frame atop my dresser.
A wooden pentacle hangs above my bed, one I’ve prayed to countless times—and I do again, silent and alone before turning for the doorway.
My hand brushes the fairy lights framing my door as I reach over to find the small switch, flicking them off for good.
If I see this room again, it won’t be the same Carina Hargrove returning.
In the bathroom, I grab soap, toothbrush, and toothpaste. Although magick can tide me over, there’s nothing better than real soap.
When I return downstairs, Mom’s nowhere to be seen, but voices propel me to the front door.
They better not be arguing again.
As soon as I step outside, arms envelope me in a tight hug, almost knocking us halfway down the steps. A familiar scent fills my nostrils, and I press my face into my cousin’s chest; another person I can’t predict how I’ll act around later.
In some ways, this feels like the beginning of the end. Alive or dead, I won’t be returning to Highridge as the same witch the coven knows, the same daughter Mom’s raised, or the same cousin Jasper grew up with.
“Fuck, Carina, almost had a heart attack when Aunt Morgan texted me you’re home.”
“For now.” My shoulder lifts, calling his attention to the backpack slung over it. “She tell you everything?”
A shadow passes over his face that has nothing to do with the sun disappearing between the clouds.
“You’re insane, but it’s admirable too.” He swings an arm around my shoulder and walks me away from Mom to speak discreetly in my ear.
“For someone who has zero interest in becoming a High Priestess, you sure have a funny way of showing it.”
I lean back until his face fills my vision. “You didn’t want me to go with the pack at all, but now you approve of me going to Twilight Grove?”
“There’s a huge difference between the pack and them.”
“Yeah. One is believed to be crazy”—I jerk my chin towards the shifters off to the side, indicating who exactly I mean—“and the other actually is. They’re gonna make me evil, haven’t you heard?”
His chuckle ruffles my hair as he pulls me in close again. “You’ll never be evil. A pain in the ass, but not evil.” There’s a shadow to his eyes, however, that suggests otherwise. Says he’s concealing his true thoughts, which I’m grateful for.
“I’ll be okay,” I reassure him in what we both know is a lie, and duck from beneath his arm. My gaze goes immediately to the wolves, only to notice three is down to two. Ryder’s gone.
Jasper follows my gaze. “They’re being good to you?”
“Surprisingly so. They’re nice. Ryder’s a bit rough around the edges but hasn’t hurt me.
There’s a woman there who’s super friendly.
The pack’s children seem like typical kids.
Those who hang around Ryder”—I gesture to Xander and Conan—“mainly act indifferent. For the most part, they haven’t been bad, no, just different. ”
“Give ’em hell if they cause any trouble.”
“It’ll be fine,” I repeat my earlier sentiment, only this time feel I’m telling the truth.
Jasper steers me back towards where Mom waits by the front lawn, a small cloth bag in her grip. Inside, there’s two glass vials and bushels of healing herbs. “Give Alaric my best, would you? I truly hope he makes it.”
I slide the items inside my backpack for safe keeping, using clothes to wrap the glass. “I will.”
Behind me, the wolves creep a bit closer and above head the clouds shift. Everything and everyone is waiting for me to leave, to accept this might be the final time seeing Mom and my cousin.
I will not cry. High Priestesses do not cry.
“I’ll be alright.” No one believes that lie. Most of all me. “Look for my signature. As soon as I know anything, I’ll try to get home.”
Key word: try.
Mom rapidly shakes her head. “You get us a message, and we’ll come for you.”
“You can’t. Unless Twilight Grove attacks Highridge, it’d be you starting that war. You have to let me figure it out.”
Jasper rests his hand on her shoulder. “You know she’s right, Aunty. Control what you can from here.”
It’s weird, after decades of us looking up to her as family and our leader, to be the ones demanding which actions she takes, which emotions to react on.
“Presumably, Sloane’s already turned her own child Dark, which means after you, Starfall Coven is the only of the original four who’s left. I’m going to attempt to contact them, to warn them, for one, but they may be numbers on our side.”
Two covens against Dark witches still doesn’t make me comfortable about leading people to their deaths. Arguing about this will get us nowhere, so I pull her into a final hug instead and whisper, “Let’s see how it all plays out.”
Her lips brush my forehead. Jasper squeezes my hand.
Then I head for the two shifters who’ll lead me to my fatal future.
And their Alpha is still mysteriously missing.