Chapter 17. Ambrose #3
“That’s what people like her survive on. Hope. I didn’t stop her when she hurt me,” she said. “Not because I couldn’t, but because I believed her when she said everyone else had abandoned her. I believed that if I left, she’d truly be alone. And that if she left... I’d be alone too.”
Her eyes flicked briefly to Ashra.
“Now I know what she’s capable of. I know she has to be stopped.
But I need to know the truth first. I need to know if my father really abandoned her.
I need to know who he is, and if he’s still alive.
..” She swallowed hard. “Because once my mother is gone, that last thread to him is gone with her.” A single tear tracked down her chin.
Her voice was barely above a whisper when she said, “And I don’t want to be alone in the world anymore. ”
With a deep breath, she held the pendant out once more.
“So I’m asking you for two things, Ambrose. Save them by making them leave, because she will be coming for them.” She sucked in a breath. “And give me a chance to find out what became of my father.”
You won’t leave me, Ambrose, Isadora’s voice called, curling through my mind.
I clutched my outstretched hand to my chest, my breath hitching. I felt for Priscilla—I truly did—but I couldn’t abandon Isadora. The very idea made my body recoil. Panic skittered beneath my skin.
I needed to go back.
I needed to make sure Isadora was alright. I needed to return to my place on the couch, to wait for her to wake, to make her breakfast and—
“Touch the shell, Ambrose.” Priscilla’s melodic voice carried on the wind, winding gently around my thoughts.
The pressure in my chest eased just enough to breathe.
My hand moved before I consciously decided to let it, reaching out once more. Morning light caught on the iridescent black shell as my fingers closed around it, its surface cool and unfamiliar against my skin.
Then the world exploded into inky black.
My shadows tore free of me, reacting to the bloodlust that surged through my body before my mind could fully catch up. They speared through the forest with lethal intent, hunting the dead-witch-walking who had held me under compulsion for so long.
“Ambrose, please!” Priscilla pleaded, her hands stretching out, grasping at shadows she couldn’t see through.
The hob was no longer beside her. It had dropped to the forest floor, eyes wide with terror as it scrambled backward toward its hollow.
Every beat of my pulse screamed Kill, kill, kill.
Every second that witch remained alive was another second she could be planning her next move. Another second closer to coming for Blaise.
Blaise.
My shadows faltered.
She’d turned the man I loved into a fractured afterthought. Reduced him to something distant and blurred, pushed aside in my own mind as if he’d never mattered at all.
The bloodlust fractured, diluted by something sharper. Need. A yearning so fierce it sent a stabbing pain through my heart.
My shadows snapped back to me, recoiling and reforming. The command in my mind shifted, singular and overwhelming.
Find him. Find him. Find him.
I pictured Blaise with painful clarity, willing my shadows to carry me to him. They coiled around me, the world tilted, then the darkness peeled away.
And I was still standing in the damned forest.
Panic seized me. Why weren’t my shadows working? Why wouldn’t they take me to him?
I forced a steadying breath. Priscilla was saying something, but her words were drowned out by the thunderous pulse pounding against my eardrums.
There were only two reasons my shadows wouldn’t answer me and take me to him.
Either I had met my mate.
Or he had met his.
My hands trembled as I drew in another breath. Hunger cramped my stomach, painful enough to make me fold forward, but I locked my knees and managed to stay upright.
Either you have met your mate... or he has met his.
I lifted my gaze to Priscilla, teeth clenched, and felt...
Nothing.
Relief washed through me, hollow and edged with grief.
Priscilla was brave. Clever. Kind in ways she didn’t let many see.
She had put herself in danger to free me and to protect the hob.
But my heart was already spoken for. There was no pull between us.
No sudden, earth-shifting bond snapping into place. Which meant only one thing.
Blaise had met his mate.
Fragments of the night before slammed into me. Priscilla had compelled me to listen so I would understand what her mother planned. So I would know she was coming for a Briar Coven house.
A house with a Briar Coven witch.
A witch who had hired the man I loved.
A witch he was now bound to.
My throat tightened. My mouth went dry.
I still had to go to him. I still had to warn him. Convince him—both of them—to leave, to return to the safety of the coven before Isadora reached them.
The thought of facing his mate made my stomach churn, but that didn’t matter. Not compared to keeping him alive. I wouldn’t allow myself to shatter, not just yet, anyway.
At last, Priscilla’s words broke through the haze. She was on her knees before me, tears streaking her face. “Please,” she begged softly. “Just give me a chance. I need to know what happened to him.”
I crouched in front of her, brushing my thumb gently beneath her eye, wiping away a tear.
“I’ll go to the house,” I said quietly. “I’ll do everything I can to make them leave. And then I’ll come back. And when you have your answers,” I continued, my voice hardening, shadows stirring beneath my skin, “I’m going to tear your mother to shreds.”