Chapter 58
JULIET
A witch?
Guess I still have a lot more to learn about the supernatural world than I thought. Though now that the descriptor has been applied to Hester, it makes complete sense. She does seem to embody magic, but in a more ethereal way than wolves do.
“Any who hurt this woman shall have the same enacted upon them.” Hester’s eyes flick to Larson, who has finally fought his way out of his truck. “A human will meet a much worse fate.”
“What is Abby to you to warrant such protections?” Mick snarls.
“Juliet.” Roderick’s voice is steady, not revealing the deadly tension that I know lurks just beneath the surface. “Her name is Juliet.”
Hester speaks before Mick can retort. “Juliet, Abby, whatever name she chooses to go by doesn’t matter to me. But as for protection?” Her smile is all teeth. “She is soon to be my adopted daughter.”
Shock sweeps through me as my neighbor turns her back on the Bear Valley wolves as if they hold no threat to her.
“Your alpha may want to wait for a pretty ceremony, but I have no such need. Will you share your blood with me, dear one?” She palms a slim silver blade she was hiding gods know where.
With a quick strike, she slices a long line across her palm.
“If you would like a little more family—and a lot more protection, that is—I’ve always wanted a daughter. ”
“Are you … you’re serious?” I ask, my heart thundering hard at the offer.
Hester smiles wickedly. “As the grave.”
I glance up at Roderick, who’s wearing a cautious expression as he studies Hester.
“Any problem with me being your mate and a witch’s adoptive daughter?” Even asking the question seems surreal to me.
Roderick tilts his head, a slight indication that his neck is mine. That this choice is mine.
“Hester has always been a friend of the pack,” he says.
“Don’t do it!” Cory snarls, blood still dribbling from his mouth, wild eyes on me. “Don’t you dare, Abby!”
I glare down at him. “My name is Juliet.”
Then I accept the knife and score my own palm, offering Hester a hesitant smile through the sting. The one she returns to me is the softest I’ve seen from her.
“Welcome to the family.” Then she grabs my hand.
My vision goes white. An explosion of stars and a gong in my ears. I come back to myself with a gasp, every nerve in my body tingling.
“Breathe, dear. There’s a good girl.” Hester is in front of me, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear, her hard eyes studying me with a tilt of concern.
Once she’s assured I’m not about to collapse, my new witchy mother faces the Bear Valley pack, and I see the lot of them shift uncomfortably.
Hester leans over to pick up Cory’s shirt. She holds the knife to the fabric in a hostile manner.
“Please!” Janeen sobs, no longer shouting threats.
Hester slices downward, the binding falling into useless scraps at her feet. Cory gasps in the first healthy-sounding breath since he started coughing in the car.
“Juliet Adair-Willowborne, formerly Abby Green, is a daughter of witches. Any who touch her without her permission will find their insides on their outsides. The group with which the perpetrator associates will be dismantled with brutal force and vicious magic. None shall be spared.” Hester holds Mick’s glaring eyes. “Do I make myself clear?”
His pause is brief. “My pack will not touch the girl.”
Cory growls a protest, but only until his alpha walks over and slams a fist against his temple, knocking the wolf unconscious.
“Dad!” Janeen wails.
“I’ll not see us dead for his obsession,” Mick snarls. He flicks a finger at Larson. “Load him in the truck.”
“Wait,” I say, a tight sensation of dread in my chest.
This isn’t over. It won’t ever be. I could see that in Cory’s eyes. He’ll come for me again.
But not if he doesn’t remember me.
I face Hester. “You were the witch who took Monica’s memories, weren’t you? The one who made her forget Roderick?”
His hands flex on my waist, as if he wants to pull me away. But he doesn’t.
Hester nods, eyes curious.
“I don’t know how much that would cost, but whatever it is, I’ll pay it.”
“Juliet.” My name is a wretched groan from Roderick, the first true crack in his alpha shield.
Belatedly, I realize how my words sounded, and I hurry to clarify.
“For Cory.” I turn and place a quick kiss on his broad shoulder, then face Hester again. “Can you make him forget me?”
The witch’s smile is wicked. “Of course. Such a neat solution. I knew there was a reason I wanted you as my daughter.” She leans close and presses a cool kiss to my cheek. “And of course you get the family discount.”
I shiver, glad this powerful woman is on my side. That she’s family.
“Thank you.”
Hester whirls around, her knife switched out for more twine, which must be a tool for her spells.
As she approaches Cory’s prone body, I half expect Janeen to try warding her off.
Instead, the wolf stays close but gives the witch space to work.
I spy a fevered hope in the woman’s eyes and realize she must want this too.
Probably sees it as her chance to finally have the man she’s always longed for.
Good fucking luck with that.
I don’t see everything that Hester does, but honestly, the cold and adrenaline hangover start to hit me hard until I’m shaking and slumping against Roderick’s warm chest. He scoops me up, and I let him, relieved my bare feet are off the cold, rough ground.
I snuggle in close and inhale in his reassuring spicy scent.
“That should do it.” Hester straightens, brushing off her hands as if some dirt might cling to them. “He’ll be confused with all the gaps. But that’s up to you all to fill.” She flicks her fingers, dismissing the entire contingent of Bear Valley wolves with the gesture.
“We’re done here.” Roderick’s stern tone shuts down any further discussion.
I love that tone.
The one used by my future mate.
He will be mine. My mate.
The words don’t bring on panic like they have in the past. Of course, I can’t guarantee I’ll never flinch from the words again. Cory did a number on my mental state.
But if I do suffer a panic attack, I trust Roderick to be there to soothe me. To show me that the terrifying conclusions my brain jumps to are no longer the truth.
I am safe. I am loved.
I am home.
And maybe … I’m a witch?