Chapter 53 – Ryder
Fifty-Three
RYDER
The coven’s magick is a cold wash of air, followed by the freezing tendrils of Darkness crawling along my skin.
Holly shivers. “What the fuck was that?”
I gesture for them to be silent and scan the vast landscape—and the strangest design. Mostly tree, partly mansion, the massive oak rests within a dip in the hilly land, partially hidden from our viewpoint.
My stomach pulses with the bond—apprehension mainly. She’s not frightened, which makes breathing a bit easier, but her lack of fear is concerning too.
“How do we get in?” Conan asks, knowing full well I don’t have an answer.
Holly repeats, “Okay, but what was that sensation?”
“Will all of you shut up?” My teeth smash together. Next one to talk will have their tail ripped from their body. “Magick.”
The magick within Banff feels…less. Not as heavy, but here beside the barrier Morgan’s magick makes visible, it cakes that of Twilight Grove around us like inescapable mud.
“Lucky guess says they know we’re here,” Xander murmurs. “They definitely have extra precautions if they’re hiding an entire town.”
“Agreed. They’ll come.”
Holly’s mouth folds in the corners as she picks at the shirt she put on moments ago. “I’d feel better about this if we could be in wolf form.”
I would too, since four legs and sharp teeth typically yields better results, but as an animal, we’re an instant threat. Not knowing exactly what we’re up against, with my mate’s life on the line, means playing this smart.
The tug in my stomach propels my first step over the grass. Carina’s so close, and once she’s within reaching distance, there’s no way I’ll be letting her go again. For the first time, I’m truly remorseful she isn’t a shifter and thus unable to feel my proximity.
“Let’s go. We’ll get closer. Hopefully they intercept us and take us to her.”
I take off across the grassy field while the others follow in formation. One way or another, sneaking inside will prove challenging, and assuming Xander is correct, they’ll find us soon enough.
As we round a hill, a figure appears. Without the cloak, the face of the witch who not only kidnapped my mate but sped up my father’s death pulls a longing for blood into my mouth—a longing to snap her neck and watch her bleed out.
“Figured you’d come at some point based on the bite on Carina’s neck.”
My body trembles not only in rage but with the need to shift. It’d four against one, and her magick could only hold out so long, but then we’d still need to get inside and find Carina.
“She has no idea she’s your mate, does she?” the raspy voice continues.
My lips pull back.
“So that’s a no,” she deduces. “There’s a theory, and I suspect you might be able to help.”
She waves her hand, and between my next steps, the grass beneath my feet changes, replaced by a dim room with dirt-covered walls and a ceiling dripping with roots.
Against the far wall, there are three cells, but it’s the centre one my vision zeroes in on, my eyes darkening as my entire focus shifts to the woman inside it.
Carina.
She shouts my name and rushes to the bars, hands latching around the wood as she rams against them. Her frantic look moves to the High Priestess, her face twisting into a lightning storm of hatred and panic. My stomach clenches.
My mate is behind fucking bars.
“Ryder!” Eyes blown wide, she gestures to something behind me a second before being flung into the air alongside my packmates. Our backs slam against the wall opposite the cells, the ache up my spine instant.
Vines immediately attack, and no pushing defeats her magick. They dance in the air, avoiding my reach until latching around my waist, chest, and wrists, pinning my arms out to either side.
“Let them go, Sloane!” Carina smacks the bars of her cell until her palms grow red. “You promised to keep them out of it.”
“They made themselves a part of this, so redirect your blame.”
“Let them go,” Carina repeats, baring her teeth in a way my wolf is proud of. “They won’t return again.” This she directs at me, as though I’d honestly honour it.
“And lose such an ideal opportunity?” Sloane gives her back to Carina and paces the room, studying us.
I do the same, glancing first at Xander directly to my left, and then Holly and Conan strapped to the opposite wall.
They’re all struggling and pushing against the vines, but Sloane’s magick overpowers our shifting ability.
“This is witch business,” Carina cries, smacking the bars again. “Please. I’ll do anything.”
Ice glints in Sloane’s expression as her shoulders pull back ever so slightly. With a sinking feeling, I realize Carina just gave her everything she wanted.
“Please,” Carina repeats, her voice cracking. “They came for me, but they’ll leave alone. I’ll stay, I won’t fight, and I’ll do whatever you need of me. Just let them go.”
No, the wolf snaps, and verbally, I growl, “Carina, fuckin’ stop talkin’.”
Silence fills the room, my breaths heavy from fighting and Carina’s from pleading. She isn’t looking at me, no matter how hard my glare begs her to. She’s pointedly not looking my way, her jaw a hard line of determination.
In my peripheral vision, Xander shakes his head. He knows. He understands. No matter what happens next, even if Sloane releases us, we’re not walking away.
Sloane’s thin lips curve upwards. “Why don’t I believe you? After all I’ve shown you, you’ve been fighting this. It’s only your wolf changing your mind, yet you’re still unaware of what you’re agreeing to.”
Carina briefly swallows as grief bombards the bond. “It doesn’t matter. You told me you’re not the bad guy, so prove that.”
“I’m not the villain to the covens, but shifters,” she sneers the word, “are nothing. They’re witch’s pets. Or, at least that’s how it should be. Then again, some witches enjoy being fucked like an animal by an animal. Bitten and marked and everything.”
Carina’s cheeks redden, and she lifts a hand to cover my bite mark.
“Your future,” she pauses for impact, “is as follows. You will remain here and embrace Darkness. You will be bound to Twilight Grove through a blood ritual, since we can’t have you running off to your mother.”
Carina’s shoulders sink. Turning Dark and running home was precisely her plan. Coming here does no good if Sloane won’t let her out. Lucky for her, I have no intention of allowing Sloane to bind Carina to anyone or anything but me. She’s claimed by the pack, and that’s the end of it.
“You’ll vow yourself to my cause,” Sloane continues, “and there will be no life for you beyond all of this. No other family than us. You will help retrieve Harlow and bring Wynter to our side. You’ll complete the ritual involving the four of you.
This will all happen without fighting. You agree to all of this, the shifters walk free. ”
A vibration rips up my throat because one glance at Carina tells me everything. Beneath her trepidation, beneath the twisting in her stomach that echoes through my own, she’s planning to agree.
“Let me make one thing clear.” Sloane edges farther into Carina’s line of vision.
“Choose wisely, because the option laid out gets you their freedom. Don’t agree, and the future will be the same.
You’ll go Dark, and your life will be spent behind these bars until the ritual—where, if required, you’ll be dragged into it kicking and screaming.
The shifters will remain until they stop being useful in your compliance and I dispose of them.
You can walk willingly into the future I present and save your friends, or you can fight and they die one by one. ”
Carina’s fear slams into me with a pressure that empties my lungs. After that threat, of course she’ll agree. She’s selfless and puts others above herself. It’s the entire reason behind Sloane’s thrill over our arrival. We made ourselves bait.
“Okay.”
One word. Four letters. Yet it sounds so fucking loud when it was no louder than a whisper. Like she shouted it from the edge of the mountains, it rattles my insides, embedding itself into the deepest parts of my mind, where it’ll live as a moment meant for horror-filled dreams.
Sloane smiles, sealing my mate’s fate, before twisting towards me. “Tell me, how does it feel to have come all this way to save your mate and have her discard you in such a way?”
My teeth snap, and although looking at Carina is everything I want, uncertainty keeps my eyes lowered and on the bitch who knew exactly what she was doing. Confusion flutters down the connection like a butterfly’s wing. A tickle on the edges, uncertain but wary, nonetheless.
“You never told her?” She grins nastily, aware of the answer to her own question. “With the bite on her neck, I assumed she knew. That you wouldn’t dare take away her choice.”
Like you’re doing. My jaw grinds hard enough to snap, and then I picture snapping her fucking neck with my teeth.
Behind her, Carina pets her bite again, only this time flinches. “Ryder?”
Lying is pointless. The rest of her life was decided the second I bit her. Still, shame settles deep, because this is where all her trust for me dies.
“It’s true. Fate made you mine by making you my n?kak?stis.”