Chapter 4 – MICAH #2
"Seriously?" Rowan asks, eyeing the knife with distaste. "I have to participate in this shit too? I'm supposed to be keeping watch."
"All pack members or none," Sadie says firmly. "Unless you want your Bonded to only be connected to these three idiots and not you."
Rowan sighs heavily but extends his hand. After his blood joins the mix, Sadie returns to the circle, setting the bowl in the center.
"Now we wait," she says, sitting cross-legged opposite Killian.
"Wait for what?" Sean asks, peering at the bowl like it might explode. Which, knowing Sadie, isn't entirely out of the question.
"For the mixture to absorb your energy and create a beacon," she explains, absently tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. "It's like... sending out a magical Tinder profile into the universe."
"Super swipe right on us, magic bitches," Sean grins, earning simultaneous eye rolls from the rest of us.
Minutes tick by in uncomfortable silence. The candles flicker, casting dancing shadows on the walls. The mixture in the bowl does absolutely nothing except smoke faintly. I find myself holding my breath, waiting for something—anything—to happen.
Killian shifts impatiently. "How long does this take?"
"At least you get to sit down," Rowan mutters, leaning against the wall by the door.
"Magic isn't microwave popcorn," Sadie retorts. "It takes as long as it takes."
Another five minutes pass. The tension in the room is so thick I could cut it with Sadie's ritual knife. Sean has resorted to drumming a beat on his thighs. Rowan keeps checking his watch. Killian looks like he's calculating exactly how much he's paying per minute for this silent ritual.
"Is it supposed to be this... quiet?" I finally ask.
Sadie shoots me a look that could curdle milk. "Not everyone needs flashy special effects, Micah. Some of the most powerful magic happens in silence."
As if to directly contradict her, at that exact moment, the mixture in the bowl suddenly ignites in a flash of blue flame.
We all jerk back, startled. The flame shoots upward in a perfect column about two feet high, then just as abruptly extinguishes itself, leaving behind nothing but a fine black residue in the bowl.
"Holy shit!" Sean yells.
Killian's eyes are wide, his body tense. He's never been comfortable around magic. None of us are, really. Shifters have our own kind of power, but it's intrinsic, physical. Magic is something external, unpredictable, impossible to control with fangs and claws.
Sadie, in contrast, looks completely unruffled. "There. It's done."
"That's it?" I ask. "How do we know if it worked?"
"You'll know when your Bonded shows up," she says, beginning to pack up her supplies.
"When will that be?" Killian presses.
Sadie shrugs. "Could be minutes, could be days. Magic operates on its own timeline."
"So we're just supposed to sit around and wait for someone to knock on our door?" Killian stands, his frustration evident in every line of his body. "That's your big solution?"
"You don't expect me to stand here the whole time, do you?" Rowan asks dryly.
"What were you expecting, fireworks?" Sadie snaps, zipping her bag closed with more force than necessary.
"Kinda," Sean grumbles, looking genuinely disappointed.
Sadie gets to her feet, brushing salt residue from her pants. Then she turns to Killian and holds out her hand. "Pay up, asshole."
Killian's jaw tightens. "We don't even know if you did anything."
"We had a deal. I did the spell, now you pay me." She wiggles her fingers impatiently. "Two thousand bucks. Cash."
"Two thousand is pretty steep for a witch without a license," he mutters, but reaches into his back pocket for his wallet.
I watch as he counts out the bills. Hundreds, because of course Killian carries that kind of cash.
The rest of us might be scraping by on football scholarships and part-time jobs, but Killian comes from old money.
Wolf royalty, practically, with a family that's been accumulating wealth for generations.
Sadie counts the bills, her black lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Your family's name is on multiple campus buildings. You can afford it."
She's not wrong. The Underwood Science Center, the Underwood Athletic Complex, the Helen Underwood Library —his family's influence is all over Stormvale University.
It's probably the only reason we haven't been expelled after some of our more.
.. enthusiastic pack activities. Like the time Sean decided to see if shifters can hold our breath indefinitely underwater (we can't) and flooded the dean's office.
"You better not have scammed us," Killian warns as Sadie tucks the money into her bra.
"Believe it or not, I actually want you idiots to find your Bonded," she replies, shouldering her bag. "The sooner you do, the sooner you'll stop bothering me with your stupid wolf problems."
"Such sisterly love," I comment dryly.
" Step sister," she corrects automatically. "And you know how I feel about your little furry fraternity."
I do know. Sadie has hated wolves—all shifters, really—since before our parents got married. I think it's because she secretly wants to be a vampire.
"Thanks for helping anyway," I say, walking her to the door where Rowan steps aside to let us pass.
She pauses in the doorway, her expression softening just a fraction. It's as close to affection as Sadie gets with me. "Just... be careful, okay? Bonds are serious shit. When your witch shows up, don't be a typical alpha male dickbag about it."
"I'm not a dickbag," I mutter.
"You're an alpha," she says with a snort. "You're all dickbags."
With that parting wisdom, she disappears into the night, the scent of her magic lingering.
When I return to the living room, Sean is hauling the coffee table back into place while Rowan lingers by the door and Killian stands by the window, staring out into the darkness. The lines of his back are rigid with tension through the fabric of his gray Henley.
"Well, that was anti-climactic," Sean announces, flopping onto the couch.
"Did you expect our Bonded to materialize out of thin air?" Rowan asks, brushing salt from his jeans.
"I mean, kinda? At least some kind of sign that it worked."
"The blue flame wasn't enough for you?" I grab a beer from the fridge, popping the top with a flick of my partially extended claw. One of the many perks of being a shifter is never needing a bottle opener.
"That could have been anything," Sean argues. "Witch theatrics. For all we know, your sister just scammed us out of two grand and lit some chemicals on fire."
"She wouldn't do that," I say, though there's a sliver of doubt in my mind. Sadie might be my sister, but her sense of humor can be... twisted. "I think."
"It doesn't matter," Killian finally says, turning from the window. His face is set in that determined expression I've come to recognize as his "pack alpha has made a decision" look. "We're not just going to sit around waiting for magic to solve our problems."
"But the spell—" Rowan begins.
"May or may not work," Killian cuts him off. "Either way, we're taking matters into our own hands. We'll find a Bonded the old-fashioned way."
"Which is?" I ask, taking a swig of my beer.
"We hunt." Killian's eyes gleam with purpose. "We search every magical gathering in Stormvale. Investigate every coven, every solitary practitioner. We find a witch who fits our pack."
"Yeah!" Sean says, pumping his fists in the air. "Witch hunt!"
We all stare at him.
"No, dumbass," Killian growls.
"Oh. right, that's a different thing," Sean says sheepishly. "Uh, hunt for cunt, then?"
Killian buries his face in his hand with a loud groan.
"So, what, we just go out and interview any witches who are willing to talk to us?" Rowan asks doubtfully.
"If necessary," Killian says, nodding with a tired, drawn-out sigh. "But I'm thinking more along the lines of feeling it out. Our wolves will know our Bonded when we find them. It's instinct."
"That hasn't exactly worked for us so far," Rowan points out reasonably. "We've been at this university for two-and-a-half years."
"We haven't been desperate enough before," Killian counters. "Now we are. Starting tonight."
"Tonight?" I nearly choke on my beer. "It's already past midnight."
Killian grins. "Perfect time to find a witch, don't you think?"
I groan, already knowing I won't win this argument. When Killian gets that look in his eyes, we're all just along for the ride.
"Where do you suggest we start?" Rowan asks, ever practical.
"The Cauldron," Killian decides, naming the supernatural-friendly bar near campus. "It's Friday night. Place will be crawling with magicals."
"I'm game," Sean says, predictably enthusiastic about any plan involving a bar and single women. He bounds to his feet, already reaching for his jacket. "Maybe Sadie's spell will give us some kind of magical GPS."
"That's not how any of this works," I mutter, but drain my beer anyway and set the bottle on the counter. "Fine. Let's go… not witch-hunting."
Killian claps me on the shoulder as he passes, heading for the door. "That's the spirit. And if your sister's spell actually works, it's a bonus. But I'm not betting our future on it."
I follow him out, Rowan and Sean close behind. The night air is cool against my face, carrying a thousand scents—damp earth, distant food from the campus dining halls, the lingering perfume and cologne of students heading to parties or returning from them.
And something else.
Something I can't quite identify.
A new scent on the breeze, faint but distinctive. Magic, but not like Sadie's familiar spice and darkness. This is different. Electric. Alive.
For a moment, I wonder if I'm imagining it. If Sadie's ritual has me seeing—or smelling—things that aren't there. But then Killian pauses, his head lifting slightly as he scents the air, and I know he feels it too.
"You smell that?" he asks quietly.
I nod. Sean and Rowan look confused, their noses working but clearly not picking up what Killian and I sense.
"What is it?" Rowan asks.
Killian shakes his head. "Don't know. But it's... interesting."
He doesn't elaborate, and I don't press. Whatever it is, it's too faint to track, too elusive to name. But it speaks to my wolf all the same.
Maybe Sadie's spell worked after all. Or maybe it's just Friday night in a town full of supernatural beings, and my wolf is restless for the hunt.