Chapter 11 – Ryder
Eleven
RYDER
She helped him.
Carina defied everything we’ve been told to believe about witches by using her powers, which—fuck you, Freya—shouldn’t be back yet. When Carina could have continued concealing them for that escape plan she’s undoubtedly brewing in that pretty little head of hers, she outed herself for Dad.
That…hurts. Hurts like the winter winds crashing against my face. It stings, numbs my cheeks, and leaves me breathless because I don’t really know what to think about it.
Carina follows me around to the same place Marissa and I talked last night. She’s bristling with energy, both of us bursting with demands for answers the other has. It didn’t take long to realize she understands exactly what we’re up against.
Swinging to a stop with my back to a tree, I ignore how my insides long to wipe the horror from her expression. “When did you get your magick back?” Before everything else, I want to know what level of death I’ll be exacting on Freya for lying.
“Shortly after waking.”
“Why didn’t you use them free yourself?”
“As I told Mom, I truly wanted to know why you made me your Treaty Day request.” She glances at Dad’s cabin. Questions hover on the tip of her tongue, but I’m not finished asking mine.
“What did you do to him?”
“The spell is nothing close to a cure, but it’ll ease his discomfort for a few hours. I can do it again later, if he wants.”
Another strike. She’s not even gambling his comfort with her freedom; just offering by way of kindness.
She’s the coven’s heir. A leader at heart. It’s evident in Carina’s demeanour she’s meant to lead.
With us, my wolf growls.
Reminded by the inescapable fact, I glance upwards to the morning sky scattered with clouds. The High Priestess’s daughter and the Alpha’s son. Clever, fate.
“Is it my turn to ask the questions yet?”
I tilt my head in response.
“What happened to get your father tied up in black magick? It’s Dark—capital D—and forbidden. It’s the most perilous form of magick witches can do. Tell me how a shifter is encased in it.”
To us, there’s one kind of magick. Magick—that’s it. Learning there’s varieties is worrisome.
“Two nights ago, witches attacked my father and two others out for patrol. The two returned to camp, Dad didn’t. He was trapped by them. They didn’t smell like you guys and definitely didn’t act like your mother. She said within the week, he’ll die if I didn’t get them what they need.”
Her falling expression guts me. Fear tinges the scent my home is now bathed in, souring it. She should never be scared of anything and should know only safety and goodness and comfort. Not stress and dismay and horror. My wolf wants to bundle her up and get her away from all this.
But that isn’t why she’s here, no matter the game fate is playing.
“Me,” she whispers, concluding the ending of my story. Her hands slip from her hips, arms heavy by her side.
With a hard-pressed mouth, I jerk my chin, hating every fibre of my being for being the one to deliver this news. “They didn’t say why, only that they wanted you, and I have a week to get it done. When I hand you over, they’ll save him.”
And this is where she explodes my ass with magick and saves her own hide.
Unfocused lavender eyes shift from me to Dad’s cabin and then to the forest beyond, in the direction of the town.
She gives me her back and rubs her face before dragging nails through her hair.
“I think I know why,” she murmurs after a moment, so low it’s nearly lost to the breeze.
“Black magick—Twilight…” Now she definitely isn’t speaking to me.
“But why? My background isn’t like Harlow’s…
” Her words continue fading into a jumble even my enhanced hearing doesn’t catch.
Eventually, she twirls, her feet kicking up fallen leaves in a burst of energy. “Ryder, we have to tell my mom.”
My chest puffs, displaying to her the force that’ll be used if necessary. “You can’t leave. I won’t risk him.”
“You’re not listening!” she barks, practically stomping her foot too. “I know what’s happening. The people you encountered are a problem we’re been dealing with. They’re planning something and this whole thing with you guys must be part of it.”
The incomplete bond between us constricts, urging me to keep her safe, despite being the one who’s endangering her. It leaves me standing on thorns, asking—pleading—for a response acceptable for my wolf. “What are they after?”
“To turn all witches Dark. Why me, I’m not sure. I don’t fit in with the plans Harlow mentioned. But this is why we need to tell Mom. She’ll know what to do next.”
Next? The only “next” there is involves Dad getting well. This is the witches’ war, nothing we should be part of.
Protect.
The fucking n?kak?stis bond. If she’s telling the truth, I could be leading her straight to her death, which makes me the worst fucking mate.
“Look,” she bursts in an exasperated tone, “I don’t know everything that’s going on, but from what you said, it sounds like you met Twilight Grove Coven. They believe in an upcoming war between the Celestials.”
The Celestials are beings who make up Heaven and Hell, angels of all orders, Upper and Lower demons.
Creatures never seen or met, nor are they written into any pack history.
We’ve heard whispers of their influences on the world, but it’s not our business and yet another reason to avoid mortals.
The Celestials leave us be, and we don’t go seeking them out.
“A war.”
“Yes,” she practically exclaims, bouncing on her feet. “Twilight Grove is under the impression that all witches must forsake the Goddess and follow Darkness over Light.”
“Where do you come in?”
Her bouncing stops like a bubble popped.
“I don’t know…and that’s what’s freaking me out.
Because they’re targeting the heirs of the four original families.
Four elements. Four original witches. Four main covens, each initiated by one bloodline.
But Mom isn’t one of the four, so I don’t know why me exactly. ”
Protect.
Stealing the faceless Carina Hargrove was one thing. It was to save Dad, but now that Carina is a real person standing in front of me, now that she’s my mate, unbonded or not… Fuck, how am I supposed to do this?
“They’ve done this already, to my friend Harlow. She’s the only one remaining of her bloodline.”
“What happened to her?”
“They won…kinda. It’s a long story, but they succeeded in making her Dark.
Then she lost all her powers, got taken by a vampire, later regained her powers—Dark included—and in a showdown, transitioned into a vampire herself.
Now, she’s half and half, and please don’t ask me to explain, ’cause we’re all still working that out. ”
The only relevant part about her story is that this Harlow isn’t dead. But her method of survival was vampirism. Carina won’t have that option.
“You’re friends with vampires, stalk shifters, and have a crazy-ass coven after you. Carina Hargrove, you really invite danger, don’t you?”
She bursts out laughing and for a single second, the world stops turning. It’s a sound I could get used to…if the situation was different and she was like me.
Eventually, her laughter is stifled with reality. “I get you’re worried. After seeing him, I am too. Maybe Mom can help. She knows more than I do. If we go to talk to her, at the very least, I’ll retrieve a pain potion.”
“It doesn’t change the fact this is a witches’ war.”
“Earth is believed to be in the middle of the Celestial’s war, which means every single creature—mortal or otherwise—could be in danger.
Witches, shifters, vampires, and whatever the fuck else is out there.
You, me…we’re all in this. If there’s something coming, you guys won’t be safe from it either just ’cause you hide out here.
A battle between angels and demons won’t be like any fight between covens and shifters.
” She exhales deeply, her eyes sunken with horror. “None of us are safe.”
Being Alpha means protecting the pack from everything. It means working with our kind to keep the rest of us alive. It means keeping her alive in any way I can.
“Come with me.”
She jumps in surprise before trailing after me like an overeager pup. I lead her towards the middle of camp where Xander and Holly are standing by the fire. Xander’s smile fades with our approach.
“Xander, head to Dad’s cabin. Ensure Marissa and Amos stay put.” Holly slinks away, taking her cue to go elsewhere while Xander obeys.
At present, I don’t trust Carina alone in my cabin, so I gesture to the wooden log Holly and Xander were standing by.
On an adjacent log, one of the females, Leah, is observing some of the pups, her own daughter mingled within the group.
I trust Leah to keep an eye on Carina and use another to chase her if she tries anything.
“Sit. Stay. Don’t leave this bench for the safety of your own neck.” Your pretty little neck.
Beside the fire is a basket of apples, picked from our nearby orchid. I take one and toss it to her. “Breakfast. Eat.”
She palms the apple, staring at it as if it’ll hold all the answers in the world. After a few steady breaths from myself and no response from her, I turn and walk away.
The prickle in the back of my neck wants to take her with me.