Chapter 19 – Ryder
Nineteen
RYDER
When Carina disappears inside her house, Conan and Xander immediately join me.
“What a weird turn of events.” Xander nudges my side; I haven’t budged from my spot after having Carina’s face in my hands.
Conan clears his throat, glancing to where she went. “Witches are strange beings. She’s really going willingly?”
Fear for her fills my throat because she is.
“What happens next?” Conan asks, skipping over the fact I never answered him the first time.
“We go home. She’s grabbing a bag of her things, then she’ll spend the rest of the week with us, like it was always supposed to be.”
“What do you think about her being adopted?” Xander asks, rubbing the side of his face. “Never saw that coming. That spell the High Priestess used was neat, and I never thought I’d say that about magick, but you have to admit it is.”
Conan makes a noise of agreement, but the “neat spell” isn’t what today was about. Carina learning she comes from a whole other place—and the emotional toll that truth took—was more pressing. Was what has it so fucking hard to focus on anything that isn’t comforting her.
The door opening and Morgan stepping outside distracts them both enough I’m able to skip responding again. She looks our way but then at the base of the stairs where a person—a warlock—materializes from thin air. The same who held onto Carina the other night.
Conan twitches, instinctively moving forward. “What the fuck, they can do that? Why don’t we know about that?”
“We’re never around them long enough to know all they can do.” Xander twists my way. “Why didn’t Carina do so to escape?”
“I don’t know.” Truthfully, it doesn’t matter which powers Carina has. The male throwing scathing looks my way is enough to make my incisors to start pushing through my gums.
Threat.
The door opens again and Carina’s barely over the threshold before she’s in his arms and he’s lifting her off her feet.
He better enjoy the hold because it’ll be the final time he uses his arms. Silver coats my eyes, a rumble in my chest loud enough the two beside me overhear. Both throw looks my way before their wolves respond to mine, their own feet shuffling to move.
Kill.
Take.
Protect.
The warlock needs to let her go or I won’t be responsible for what happens to him. Not this time. He’s competition—a threat to eliminate.
Kill.
Claws rip through my skin, granting me the ability to tear him apart.
Take.
My teeth lengthen to rip out his jugular.
Protect.
My body quivers with the beginning stages of a shift.
Despite their earlier instinctual responses, Xander and Conan, cut in front of me, recognizing now isn’t the time for a fight. But they’ve blocked my view of her—and that won’t be stood for.
I blink, and then again, willing my vision and thoughts to return to normal—to sanity. Before accidentally starting a war.
Xander’s hand comes up, but he doesn’t touch me. He doesn’t dare. “What the fuck?”
A warlock is near what’s mine.
She’s not mine. Logic battles with the shifter, entangled within the mortal mind of this form, and every reason why the n?kak?stis will remain incomplete. Even the fact Carina’s never once mentioned him, which means he’s probably family rather than a mate, doesn’t quell the instincts.
“Stay here. Watch her. Come find me when she’s done.”
Spinning on my heel in the grass, I flee towards the north side of Carina’s property, into the patch of trees.
My body morphs, limbs stretching and ripping my pants and shirt, but I don’t give two fucks when the scraps of cloth are abandoned on the ground.
I launch myself deeper into the woods, until reaching a distance that’ll ensure I don’t kill someone.
Fate couldn’t find anyone else to be my n?kak?stis? Anyone at fucking all?
Time fades and I run, circling the town a few times while she says her goodbyes. My wolf is pleased to be free, while the man is thrilled this trip will end without bloodshed from either side.
It doesn’t take long before my senses are startled to source her again, sensing the instance she enters the forest with Conan and Xander beside her.
Her knuckles are white, gripped around the straps of her backpack as she stares at me approaching.
Her purple eyes are as large as the threat on my life she’s become.
Her scent is what destroys me. The sweet trace I’ve come to both adore and despise in the past day is overlaid with him, when she should only ever smell like me.
I jog to her side and press myself into her thighs. The others make themselves conveniently busy as my form twines against hers, replacing his scent with my own. She giggles, her tone light and so fucking happy, and strikingly different from any interaction with her so far.
If she knew the wolf is scent-marking her in the most subtle way he can, she wouldn’t be laughing.
“Someone’s friendly.”
Conan and Xander eventually wander around a tree to shift, and once they’re gone and her scent is more like me again, I lower onto my haunches for her to climb on. She settles into the dip between my shoulders, and her little nails dig into my skin as she leans down and we begin the journey home.
The sun is setting over the trees by the time we arrive.
Most of the pack is gathered in the camp’s centre around the fire for supper, which gives our arrival an audience.
No one speaks as I walk her straight to my cabin, where she gets off me and heads for the chairs while I shift and pull on clean shorts from the chest.
“Who’s the male?” The words rumble out before I can stop them; the topic pressed on my mind during the trip. Being in wolf form didn’t help since he alternated between wanting her home and safe, and wanting to return for him.
“The…” Her nose wrinkles. “Oh, you mean, Jasper? He’s my cousin.”
Cousin. I relive all the touches—none of them intimate—the things he said to her—clearly someone who cares. Cousin, not mate.
Better.
Carina, not realizing she saved his life, drops into one of the chairs and begins rooting through her backpack. The simple confidence that this cabin is temporarily hers has my chest feeling something I refuse to name. After all, it was designed for her, with a mate in mind. Her.
But not her either.
No, I need to get her far away from me, to make releasing her in a few days easier.
“Here.” She stretches a hand my way, two glass vials in her grip. “Have your dad drink one for pain. Should work right away. Save the other for a few days from now or when he needs the reprieve.”
My fingers brush hers as I take them. She’s warmer than the air should call for; all the emotions of her day built up in a small form. Grateful, I tuck them close for safekeeping. “Thank you. I mean it, Carina. Thank you for this.”
“Can I stay here?” she asks, knotting her hands into the fabric of my sweater—using something of mine to ease her anxiety. “Today’s been a lot and being stared at out there isn’t… Please don’t make me.”
The hopelessness in her tone, the sound of a captive pleading for safety, has me dying inside a bit.
It’d be best if she stayed inside, not only tonight, but all week. If the others are never around her, there will be no need to worry about anyone. And here, it’ll make avoiding easier.
“Sure. I’ll bring you some food shortly.”
“It’s fine, I’m not hungry.” She smiles sheepishly, except it barely reaches those lavender eyes of hers. “Just tired.”
Listening to her grumbling stomach all night isn’t something I’ll stand for, so no matter what she claims, I’ll return with food. But with a nod of my head, I acknowledge her and take off outside before either of us comes up with a reason to continue talking.
Outside, the air smells better. Clearer. Not like her.
Xander’s cabin is closest to mine, and he joins me in fresh clothes. “Since you’re not having to watch her every second of the day, did you want me to make space for her somewhere else?”
I should. I really fucking should. Now that she won’t take off, and she’s staying willingly, I can lock her away so when the time comes to hand her over, my wolf won’t destroy my insides for endangering our n?kak?stis.
I meant it when I told her I’d come after her. Don’t know how or when, but I’ll save her somehow. My wolf won’t allow me not to. I won’t allow myself to not.
Until then, distance is best.
Yes, Xander, hide my mate from me.
“She’s fine where she is.”
Those who weren’t already watching us glance up as we reach the fire pit where most of the pack is circled.
Conversation fades as everyone waits for me to speak.
Parents settle cubs, and Conan drops beside Holly.
Xander breaks away to claim a seat beside Claire and Leah, and he slides the child from her lap to his.
“There’s been a change in how this week will go,” I begin, and then recount Carina’s diagnosis of Dad and the war with Twilight Grove, skipping past anything Celestial-related because they don’t need to live in fear.
I describe Darkness and black magick, and what the other coven wants with Carina, about the meeting with Morgan, and Carina’s willingness to help.
“They’re not fighting us on this?” Leah’s soft voice calls out.
“She wants to learn Twilight Grove’s true intentions.”
Graham, still healing from the attack the other night, raises his voice. “There has to be more to this. The coven aren’t ones to help anyone but themselves.”
My witch would.
“This is a war between the covens, and thus it is the covens who wish to figure it out.” More like a singular witch.
“Which means, for the foreseeable future, Carina Hargrove is our guest, not a captive. She is not to be harmed. Doing so gets you an audience with me.” My low-level threat ends on a growl, the intention becoming clearer and sharper in my mind.
No one will touch her.
Amos, ever the supporter, shakes his head and stalks towards Dad’s cabin.
“She has promised not to harm anyone, so you have no need to fear her. If she tries, you defend. But do not attack. Find me immediately.”
She better fucking not. I’m hardly handling her presence. Having to make her an enemy will tear my insides up.
“Thanks,” I finish, glancing around the pack as they agree. “That’s all.”
Little conversations break out and with a glance towards Leah and Xander, I step aside and aim for my father’s cabin, wanting to check in on him. He’s sitting up in bed with Marissa in the chair and Amos nearby, murmuring quietly, presumably about what I just announced.
All glance up at my entrance, but I focus the entirety of my attention on Dad. “How do you feel?”
“Better now that you’re home. Amos was telling us the coven is cooperating, exactly as I knew Morgan would.”
“It was more Carina than her, but yeah. Here.” I hand Marissa the two potions of pale liquid. “She said take one when the pain gets too much.”
Behind us, Amos scoffs something about “trusting witches” but no one pays him attention.
“That’s nice of them.” He uncorks the vial and without hesitation, downs the potion, coughing once as it settles in his body. “Odd flavour. Where is she?”
“My cabin.”
His eyes rise from the empty vial to me, brows lifting. He understands what’s in my head—my reasonings, my quick addiction that’ll end in the worst withdrawals the longer I’m in her presence.
“You know, I never could resist your mother either. The powers behind the n?kak?stis bond pulled us together. If your intention is to not claim her, it’d be best if you stayed away.”
“I’m trying. And failing.”
Close by, Amos sounds like he’s having a heart-attack. Up until now, only Marissa and Dad knew about the connection, but at some point, his position of elder would require he’d be told anyway. He doesn’t comment, though Marissa’s low murmurs indicate why.
Dad smirks, looking more like my father than he has in days. “I’m aware. Do what you feel is best.”
“Can she feel it? The bond, I mean. Did Mom?”
“Your mother was a shifter, so she felt something, but it’s nowhere near as strongly or impactful. The bond brings us together while leaving the ultimate choice to females. As for yours, she’s another species, and the only way to answer for certain is to ask her.”
That won’t be happening.
“How do you feel now?” I jerk my chin at the empty vial, using it to move off the topic of the bond.
“I can breathe a bit easier. The constriction around my lungs is loosening.” He inhales deeply, blowing it out as an example. “Nowhere close to able to attend the quarterly meeting coming up in two days. I’m remiss that I won’t be there to see you at your first, as Alpha.
With Twilight Grove and Carina, the gathering of packs has been at the bottom of my thoughts.
The nearest packs come together to socialize and for Alphas to share news.
Trades and potential matings are often initiated, as well as updates from the mortal or Otherworldly creatures that might affect us.
“I’ll tell them what we know about the Celestials. It’s only fair everyone can prepare in any way they can. For now, I should go and bring Carina food.”
“Take care of her, Ryder. No matter what happens.”
His ominous threat trails me out.