Chapter 1 Ryder #2
Hargrove—no! She’s not wanting just any witch, but the High Priestess’s daughter—their fucking coven princess.
Morgan, the High Priestess, won’t let her go.
This won’t result in a conflict, but an all-out brutal war.
The treaty will be null. Morgan will undoubtedly do anything to get her own kin back.
My father moans, the timing too perfect to be a coincidence.
“You have a week,” the witch continues, even without having agreed to her terms.
Yet.
“Seven days until we return. Have Carina in hand and your father will be as good as he was earlier.”
Only a matter of days to sneak into a coven guarded by spells and who knows what else that’ll serve my ass up on a platter to steal the goddamn High Priestess’s daughter. Right. This will go splendidly. If I make it out alive, it’ll be a miracle.
“Deal.”
With Dad’s life on the line, there is no other option, though the logistics of all this still evade me.
She waves her hand, and the black tendrils slowly fade away from view. Based on his gasp as he slumps forward, back bowed, she didn’t heal him, but hid the magick.
“Glad you’ve seen the correct path, young Alpha. I hope, after this, our paths cross again.”
Only if I get to kill you.
Her cloak twirls as she spins away, encompassing much of my vision before she and the other four witches disappear into thin air, leaving the small clearing feeling not only desolate, but rigid and still. Like one wrong breath will make them return.
Until Dad coughs, and I drop to my knees beside him. Xander and Conan each take a side and throw an arm around their shoulders to lift him between them.
“Ryder.” His voice is scratchy. “Don’t do this. You will strike a war with the coven and end decades of peace. Not for me.”
I ignore him and shuffle Conan out of the way, instead instructing, “Run ahead. Tell Marissa and Amos what happened. Get his cabin prepared.”
Conan shifts back to a wolf and takes off into the trees. Dad’s head falls, his energy gone. With a grim glance at Xander, we carry my father home.
As we pass the road that takes visiting humans towards the picturesque town of Banff, I think about the coven there. Amongst them, a witch named Carina.
Soon to be the witch who’ll save my father, even if she doesn’t know it yet.
“Take a break, I’ll stay with him.” Xander rests his hand on my shoulder, urging me off the chair that’s been my permanent spot since carrying Dad back home.
Marissa once again wipes his forehead clean of sweat before looking up with a grim expression. There’s nothing that can be done but make Dad comfortable as his body fights the unnatural substance.
“I agree, Ryder. Get out of here.”
A break feels like the last thing I should be doing but seeing as Xander’s already pushing me off the chair, I slap his shoulder in gratitude and slip from the cabin, down the single wooden step and into the forest behind it.
I’m three steps in, my eyes adjusting to the darkness, when a lone figure appears suddenly, the black cloak telling me all that’s important.
Witch.
Again. They can’t leave us the fuck alone.
I manage a single step her way before a barrier like the last witch used blocks me, throwing me back a couple feet with a huffed growl. “One trick pony, all of you.”
The witch nears and lowers her hood, revealing her face.
She’s young—or at least appears to be, but who knows how witches’ aging works.
Long, pale blonde hair falls to her waist, and a face that seems angelic but is probably bred by the Devil stares up at me.
She isn’t one of the five who came earlier and there’s no scent of Highridge clinging to her either.
“I’m the one-trick pony for protecting myself, yet we’re two for two on alpha males who lunge before asking questions?
” She scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest; the cloak shifting with her movement and revealing a glittery tank beneath, which raises more questions about my limited knowledge of their species. “You should meet your counterpart.”
“Counter…?” The shield between us fades, opening the possibility to charge. I get to my feet, planning my move.
Only, end up doing nothing, because something tells me this one isn’t like the others, and that continuing to target her will be waste of our time. If she wanted to harm me, she’d have done it by now.
“Who are you?”
Her responding sigh is drawn-out and dramatic, like my initial question should have been something else.
“You even ask the same kinds of questions as him. Time isn’t really on my side right now, so the explanations need to be kept to a minimum.
My name is Freya. I’m the First Witch, which is literally what it sounds like—I was the first witch on Earth, helped establish the covens, and act as a go-between between them and our Goddess.
You’re Ryder, the new Alpha of Coldcrest Pack.
If you’re wondering how I know that, please refer to my explanation of who I am.
I’ve been around for a while and see all—literally.
I’m sorry about your father, who’s caught up in something bigger than us all.
You need to capture Carina Hargrove to save him, and no, I will not be stopping you.
That’d render my presence useless, so here.
” Suddenly, her hand darts my way and a small potion vial with pink liquid gets thrown at me.
“This will fix him?” If this witch helps then we won’t have to kidnap Carina, and it will end any potential wars before they even start.
She hums, pursing her lips. “Not the way you’re hoping.
No, that’s for Carina when you capture her.
It’ll render her powerless for twenty-four hours because have you considered how she’ll act after you capture her?
I’ll go ahead and answer that and say, no, probably not.
Which is where the potion comes in. Have her drink it and it’ll block her magick.
You’ll thank me when she’s unable to blast your ass clear across the camp—though that’d be funny as hell.
Don’t ask questions. No, I’m not fucking with you.
No, I’m not on her side. Well…not really. Anyway, gotta go. Be a good doggy.”
Between one blink and the next, the First Witch is gone, only the indent in the leaves below indicating she was ever here to begin with.
As well as the vial between my fingers.