Chapter 37
Morgan
The Eleventh and Final Moon
Over the last few weeks, I’ve done a lot of healing. A lot of recovering. I’m not sure how long it’s going to take me to truly be well. My body still aches sometimes, and I know it remembers the pain I was in.
But between the witches from the coven visiting to heal me, Sylvan hovering like a nanny, and all our house guests—I’ve been well taken care of.
But now it’s the full moon.
The Wolf Moon.
The dying wish my grandmother made has been fulfilled. Our contract is up, but Sylvan isn’t leaving my side.
Snow turns the world white outside, falling gently and building piles around tree roots and erasing the garden path.
My breath puffs out as Sylvan takes my hand, leading me down to the arch.
We don’t have much time before our heats set in, but we still have to do this before we sequester ourselves to bed.
I can’t help but think our footprints look cute next to each other.
At the end of the path, Mr. Byrne waits patiently. His expression is unreadable as we approach. He’s holding the final envelope, and part of me is scared to know what’s inside.
“Are you ready?” he asks solemnly.
“Yes,” I breathe out. My grip on Sylvan tightens.
“If it’s another curse, we will actively work to raise Maeve from the dead and kill her again,” Sylvan grumbles.
Mr. Byrne almost smiles as he breaks the purple seal. The two of us lean in closer and he pulls out a folded piece of paper. My name is scrawled on the front.
To Morgan.
I take it from him and open it, exhaling slowly. Sylvan presses a kiss to the top of my head, then continues to glower at Mr. Byrne as I read.
Dear Morgan,
I’m writing this the night before my death. They’re going to come for me tomorrow. I’ve put plans into motion, and once again, you are possibly who suffers most. I do not expect forgiveness, and I cannot even ask for it. But I can, at the very least, tell you why I did things the way I did.
I’ve been the coven leader for the House of Hecate for over thirty years, and in all of that time, I’ve attempted to protect the town and our family from my fated mate.
I failed . . .
I read the rest of Maeve’s letter, scanning it over and over until finally, I lean back against Sylvan. His arms circle around me and he keeps me standing as I read it through once more.
“I hope this is not another curse,” Mr. Byrne says softly.
“It’s not. But, it would have been useful to open this months ago.
Although, I don’t think it would have meant shit to me then.
” I fold the letter back up and then exhale slowly.
“She bound my magic after my parents’ death and the coven tampered with my memories to keep me safe from him.
Many of the terrible things that happened to me here were possibly not her doing. ”
My eyes water and I turn, looking back at Foxglove Manor. This house has held the worst moments of my entire life, but it’s also held some of the best.
Maeve is right, she cannot ask me for forgiveness. But, there’s a small part of me that gives it anyway. Not because I owe her anything, I do not. Any forgiveness given is to heal the fractured parts of myself, not to accept how she treated me in my life.
But it all makes sense now.
Maeve and Gideon were fated mates. She learned everything she could about Shadow Seers and for a while, the two of them were happy. They had my mother. They raised her together. He was in her life.
But when I was born, things changed.
I am a Shadow Seer. Except instead of dark magic, mine is light.
I don’t know what caused Gideon to snap.
I don’t know if it was me, or just something inside him that was already broken, but not long after—Maeve broke their fated mate bond after being together for twenty years.
Twenty years. The pain, I can’t even imagine it.
That book that Sylvan and I have been pouring over was the one Gideon used to read and make comments on, because it’s incorrect.
So much of what we know about Shadow Seers is incorrect.
Mr. Byrne clears his throat. “I did know Gideon. He’s the one who bound me to the Foxglove family. This is before he became . . . what he is now. Or was.”
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” Sylvan snarls. “We could have used this information.”
“I truly thought he was dead. Maeve told me he was dead years ago, and we never saw the signs he was back. The witch was very secretive. Both of them, for that matter.”
“The omega kidnappings didn’t fucking give it away?” I ask.
He winces. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I should have, but I didn’t.”
“Did you know what I am?” I ask.
Even now, not many do. We’ve told Cass, Cat and her mates, and Jarod and his mate. Everyone else thinks that Sylvan and I were simply lucky. Or they think he’s just that strong of a werewolf.
My magic is still growing. Ever since Gideon lifted the lock on it, it’s been a butterfly trapped inside me, fluttering around, light and airy. There’s a lot of power there, but really, I still just use it for small things, like the first bubble bath after Sylvan and I came home.
Mr. Byrne shakes his head. “No. I was not a friend to anyone here, Morgan. I was just the family lawyer. I’ve been keeping everyone protected from the Council for years. They wanted this land.”
I exhale slowly. “Well, now we know why.”
“Speaking of . . . I may have pulled a few strings for both of you. The Council is going to come to Hex Ridge, and both of you need to leave before they do. Soon. I think they’ll be here in two days.”
“We’ll leave tomorrow,” I say, glancing up at Sylvan.
He immediately nods. “We’re done with Hex Ridge.”
“Good. Sylvan, whoever you really are, you’re on their radar. And now you are too, Morgan.”
“So what did you do?” Sylvan asks.
He stoops over to unlatch his briefcase and pulls out two folders. “There are two new birth certificates in here, two new IDs, and all of the Foxglove funds have been moved into a bank account under Morgan’s new name. I may have taken a few . . . liberties.”
I gawk as he hands the folder to me and I look inside. “Do I really look like a Megan?”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “It’s what your father wanted to name you.”
“Steve?” Sylvan snarls. “You named me fucking Steve?”
Mr. Byrne smirks. “I could have chosen something much worse.”
Sylvan and I exchange glances, and while I’m not happy with our new names, I am happy we have a better way out of all of this. I don’t even want to know how he made this happen, and so I hold out my hand.
He scowls when I demand he shakes it.
“You’re released,” I say. “Whatever contract my grandfather did to bind you, it’s done. You don’t owe me anything, Byrne. Or anyone else. I’m sorry he did that in the first place, but thank you for helping us.”
His eyes well with tears and he releases my hand as if he’s been stung.
Mr. Byrne takes a step back, his cheeks turning red.
“Thank you, Morgan.” He stoops over and picks up his briefcase, regaining his composure.
“If you do ever need anything, call. Otherwise, I hope to never see either of you again.”
“Likewise,” Sylvan says sourly.
I smile and give him a wave as he turns to leave. Once he’s out of our sight, Sylvan shakes his head.
“I fucking hate lawyers.”
“He was helpful,” I protest. “He just saved us from a lot of trouble.”
“He did.” Sylvan rubs his chest and then turns to face me.
His nostrils flare, and I know he’s breathing in my scent.
Heat is starting to flicker through me, and I know our time is dwindling.
“I didn’t want to read over your shoulder since the letter was for you.
But why did she bind us here? To this manor? ”
“The magic in the house is Gideon’s,” I say. “I think he may have made the house this way before they rejected each other. His magic is the only kind that could withstand his darkness, especially since I didn’t have access to mine. If we were anywhere else, we would’ve been done for a lot sooner.”
We both look up at Tabby and I feel a streak of sadness.
I don’t know exactly what will happen to Foxglove Manor now.
We have to leave Hex Ridge. I want to leave Hex Ridge.
Sylvan and I deserve a fresh start after everything we’ve gone through.
I may be a powerful witch and he may be a prince, but we want a simple life together and away from all the madness we’ve been forced to endure.
“You could gift it to the coven,” Sylvan says. His thoughts are already in line with mine. While we decided to wait to seal our bond tonight, it’s already there, vibrant and alive. “It could become the new House of Hecate. Considering I burned down the other one . . .”
“That’s a good idea,” I say. “I’d feel better if it’s being used for something. We can give it to Cassandra.”
He wrinkles his nose. “Sure. I suppose.”
“She’s coming around,” I say. “She’s been very helpful this month. I think her father had a lot to do with how she behaved. I’d be dead without her.”
Sylvan’s expression hardens, and he nods slowly. “You’re much more forgiving than me. She’s lucky I didn’t rip her throat out.”
“Yes, well.” I pat his chest. “Your wolf can calm down now. It’s time for us to rest.”
Sylvan smiles, and then slides his fingers through my hair. I let out a soft moan, and it’s involuntary. He’s been gentle with me the last few weeks, but I want him. Goddess, I want him.
I lean up on my tiptoes, and he meets me halfway, kissing me nice and slow until my bones have melted.
“I may not be a good witch,” I whisper. “But I am your witch.”
“You are. My witch and the best witch.” His lips are warm against mine, and he deepens the kiss, holding me tight. I’m completely breathless as he draws back. “Will you be my mate, Morgan?”
“Yes.” I blink back tears. “Will you be mine?”
“Always. Forever and always.”
His arms circle around me and we both look up at the moon. It’s larger than ever, bright and taking up the entire night sky. In the distance is the mountain ridge, and out there, I know there are more secrets.
But those secrets can be discovered by others. It’s time for us to have peace.
Sylvan cups my face, his eyes glimmering as he meets my gaze. “We have a problem.”
“What? What problem?” I ask.
“I think we might love each other.”
A laugh bubbles up. “You think?”
“I know. Beyond a shadow of a doubt,” he says. “I love you. I love you so much, Morgan. I will spend the rest of my life showing you just how much I love you. Wherever we go, whatever happens, you will always be my home. My refuge.”
Tears sting as I kiss him again, winding my arms around him. “I love you, Sylvan. I want this. I want this more than anything.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Our contract is over, and . . . I think it’s real. This whole fated-mates-bond thing. The love thing.”
He tilts his head with a lopsided smile. “Oh yeah? You think?”
“I know.”
We smile at each other as he slides his hand behind my neck, giving me a gentle squeeze. He knots his fingers in my hair and pulls my head to the side, kissing over my bare shoulder.
“I don’t know if I can take my time,” he murmurs, his lips grazing my skin and leaving a wake of sparks. “I want to take you inside.”
“Sylvan, for once, please do not be patient. I need to be on your knot with your teeth in my neck now.”
Without another word, he sweeps me into his arms and carries me down the snowy path to the house. The door flies open for us. It’s just us here tonight, and it’s strangely silent.
We make it to his bedroom and the moment he puts me down, the fever sets in. I suck in a breath, stripping my clothes and gathering blankets and pillows. We’ve been waiting for so long for this moment, and I want my nest to be perfect.
“I want more pillows,” I say.
“From your room?”
“Yes.”
Sylvan disappears and comes back quickly.
I think he grabbed every single pillow from my bed.
I point at the nest on the floor, and he puts them down.
I fuss with them until it feels right, the air thickening with our arousal.
He’s being so incredibly patient for a werewolf with a cock harder than steel.
I sit back on my knees and look up at him. He steps closer, his hand gentle as he grips my chin. “Ready?” he whispers.
“Yes.”
“Please let me mark you.”
I nod eagerly. “Knot me. Mark me. Mate me.”
Sylvan’s hold on me tightens, and then he’s shifting, changing right before me. Heat radiates off his body, his fur warm against me. Whiskey and cinnamon washes over me, wrapping around me like the perfect blanket. Our shadows dance around the room as he pushes me back into the nest.
“Sylvan,” I pant.
His cock slides against my belly as he pins me down beneath him. Pre-cum drips from the tip, streaking over my skin as he growls against the crook of my neck. I wrap my legs around him, needing him now.
“I can’t wait anymore,” he grunts.
“Please.”
The moment his cock pushes into me, I cry out his name and everything in my world is finally right.
I pulse around him as he drives forward, our bodies melding together as he makes love to me.
Every thrust fills me. Every drag of his cock satiates me.
His knot bumps against my entrance and I rock my hips back, screaming his name as I take it.
He locks into me right as my orgasm rushes through my veins, my walls milking him.
I smile as his sharp teeth press against me.
I’m ready. I’ve been ready for this moment for so long.
“Mine,” he growls.
Sylvan pierces my shoulder with his fangs, but there’s no pain.
Everything inside me snaps. The tightness in my chest blooms to life, and I can feel the glimmering connection that has teased us over the months finally rise like the burning sun, warm and full of life and everything Sylvan and I have earned.
I can feel his love for me, his desire for me, and how we’ve healed the broken parts of each other.
Finally, Sylvan chuckles as his tongue swipes away my blood.
His knot is hot and pumping inside me as he moans, giving one more thrust as he starts to come.
I gasp as he floods me, his pleasure echoing through our connection, the euphoria of it magnified.
I can feel how much he wants me. How much he loves me. The way he cherishes me.
“I want to mark you,” I whisper against his chest.
“Where?”
“Your throat.”
He purrs in satisfaction at my possessiveness, and shifts back into his other form. The moment his skin isn’t covered in fur, he leans down and offers me his throat.
I don’t have sharp teeth, but I still bite him. He grunts as I break skin, holding me in his arms. Never letting go.
I bite my mate under the full moon, knotting us together completely.
I love you, my wicked witch.
I love you too, my grumpy wolf.