Chapter Nine
Being the Honorable Woman Sometimes Sucks
IMOGEN GALLAGHER
I’m in a fancy bridal boutique, surrounded by a sea of white, trying on dresses for a wedding I don’t want. The shop is filled with luxurious fabrics that beg to be touched. Even the air sparkles with the brilliance of countless accessories gleaming with deceptive promise.
The aroma of roses unfurls around me and each dress I try on weaves another bitter thread into the tapestry of my melancholy.
Aiden wouldn’t care about the dress. Why should I? He’s marrying me to save his pack. I’m marrying him to keep the peace. It’s a political alliance. Nothing more. The bitter taste of reality is hard to swallow.
A soft knock on the stall door draws my gaze to the mirror. The image reflected back is of a woman draped in a stunning dress, a would-be bride whose eyes are empty, devoid of the joy they should hold. Even the lovingly crafted lighting, designed to bathe the wearer in an ethereal glow, fails to pierce the veil of my desolation.
Running my hands over the satin of the skirt, I’m momentarily swept away by its seductive smoothness. The dress is truly breathtaking, its fitted bodice adorned with intricate lace appliqués. My fingers glide over the tiny beads that edge the sweetheart neckline, hugging my figure with deceptive affection.
Every bead, every stitch, every delicate fold should be for Liam, not Aiden. I should be revealing this stunning dress to a man whose heart syncs with mine. But that’s a dream struggling to stay afloat in the sea of my harsh reality. Yet my fantasy refuses to lose hope. Its ghostly presence only serving to deepen the ache throbbing in my heart.
“Gen, how are you doing in there?” Meredith’s voice filters through the door, tinged with an unmistakable note of concern. “Can we see the dress? Or do you want me to look for something else?”
I stand there, silent, while my fingers continue their mindless journey over the lace, lost in their own rhythm. The physical weight of the dress is nothing compared with the emotional burden of my impending marriage.
“Hang on,” I croak, the words scraping their way past the bullfrog-sized lump in my throat.
Stepping out of the stall into the private suite fitting room, I’m met with Meredith’s and Rachel’s gasps of awe. Their eyes widen, drinking in the sight of the dress that’s too stunning to cast in my somber narrative. It’s a waste of its potential.
“Gen,” Rachel breathes, “you’re breathtaking.”
But Meredith’s eyes search my face. “You do look absolutely beautiful, Gen, but...are you going to be okay?”
She can see straight through my facade. Unable to meet her searching gaze, I focus on the carpet beneath me, a field of rose-pink acting as the sole buffer between me and the cold, hard truth.
“I can’t help but think about how this should be for someone else,” I admit. They’re both safe. They both know how my heart is breaking.
Meredith steps closer, placing a gentle hand on my bare arm. “I know,” she whispers. “But Aiden is a good man. He’s honorable. He’ll care for you, Gen.”
Honorable. Caring. Each word hits like a slap. He may be those things, but he’s not the right man. He’s not Liam.
“You’re doing the right thing and that takes a lot of strength.”
Tears swell in my eyes, threatening to spill over. “I know. But it’s still...it’s still not fair.”
Pulling me close, she envelops me in a warm embrace. “I know, sweetheart.”
I rest my head on her shoulder, drawing a shuddering breath. Her words echo in my ears, their truth doing nothing to lessen the piercing pain.
As Meredith pulls away, her eyes hold mine captive once more. Turning briefly to Rachel, she whispers, “Could you cast a soundproofing spell and lock the suite door? We need to talk freely.”
Rachel’s response is an unintelligible string of words, a language that dances on the edges of my awareness, hauntingly similar in cadence to the bonding vows exchanged by wolves.
The room’s atmosphere shifts, shimmers like a desert mirage, setting my wolf senses on edge. Magick, vibrant and pulsating, caresses my skin, the ethereal touch raising goose bumps in its wake.
After she locks the door on the far side of the room, Rachel returns to stand next to us, her face somber.
“Thank you, dear.” Meredith’s voice trembles, the vibration sending ripples across the air. “I’m part of the reason Aiden needs to protect the O’Connor pack territory from your father and uncle. I was pregnant with Emma when I came here with a few others over twenty years ago. I needed a place to hide.” She takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling herself for the words to come.
“I don’t understand.” Confusion twists in my gut, distracting me briefly from my sorrows.
Meredith’s eyes glisten and her tone deepens. “Aiden’s father agreed to let me build the court on their land. In exchange I blessed the pack.”
“Blessed?” I echo, my brows furrowing in confusion and curiosity. “And what’s a court?”
“I’m a witch and with that comes certain abilities,” Meredith says, the weight of her lineage bearing down on the syllables.
Rachel’s voice, a thick wave of respect, crashes over me. “Meredith comes from an original witch line. Her blessings ensure prosperity, health, and well-being for the pack.”
This is the source of the O’Connors’ prosperity, their resilience against my father and Uncle Dave. And here it stands in human form, so benign and gentle, yet powerful enough to change destinies. My fingers twitch involuntarily, wishing there was a way to use this strength, this mystic power, and reshape my future.
“What about the court? What did you mean by that?”
“It’s a safe space I built to hide us.”
I shake my head. “Like a house?”
“No, it’s more like a...” Meredith trails off and stares up at the ceiling.
Rachel steps forward. “It’s like the Tardis, Gen. There’s no police box, but there’s a ‘door’ to a place that shouldn’t be possible and it’s bigger on the inside.” She gives me a weak grin like she’s waiting for me to scream that she’s crazy.
And to be fair, I’m considering that option in my brain, but instead I embrace the crazy. Witches. Werewolves. Covens and courts. Why not? “You mean like a pocket universe?”
Meredith nods. “Yes, exactly.”
My mouth goes dry, as if all moisture has been sapped away by the gravity of the situation. Dread pools in my stomach, but it’s entwined with something else...a new understanding of the invisible ties that bind me to this fate, and the people whose lives hinge on my reluctant acceptance of it.
“Your father isn’t the first man to find out about the coven. But he’s the first we haven’t been able to chase off, so to speak. Unfortunately, Aiden’s father made some grave errors and put everything at risk.”
“And my father found those errors?” Bitterness rises like venomous bile in my throat, a caustic mirror of my bleak reality. “That sounds like Oliver Gallagher—finding a weakness and exploiting it to its full potential.”
“I just want you to understand how much your sacrifice means, not just for the O’Connor pack but also for an entire group of people you’ve never met. If discovered, we will all be hunted by people who want us dead or locked away. Me, everyone I love...”
A cold hand clenches around my heart, squeezing until I can barely breathe. The magnitude of my impending marriage, stakes immeasurably higher than I ever imagined, crashes over me like a tsunami of brutal realization.
Meredith’s eyes shimmer with a deep sadness, yet gratitude also pools within their depths. “I wish there was another way, Gen. I wish you and Aiden didn’t have to bear this burden. But your strength and courage are helping to protect so many people. People who aren’t able to find help anywhere else. I do hope you can find some comfort in that knowledge.”
Rachel nods, her eyes reflecting respect and thankfulness. “We’re all so grateful for what you’re doing.”
Their words hang in the air like weights, solemn and resonant. Silence sweeps in, its cold hands brushing the walls of the boutique. My father’s ruthlessness is something I’ve known my entire life. But the prospect of him understanding what Meredith is capable of...it’s unthinkable.
The things he would demand of her. The lengths he would go to ensure her obedience.
My chest tightens painfully.
The gravity of the situation drops like an anchor into my consciousness. I knew this marriage alliance had been forged to maintain peace between my father and my uncle. Both of them have been trying to find a way to take over the O’Connor pack and their coveted territory, but I hadn’t realized how much more was at stake—the lives and safety of an entire coven of hidden witches.
“Just remember, we’re here for you. You’ll never be alone.” Meredith’s comforting words float toward me, followed by a sad smile and another embrace.
“Can we get out of here?” I try to shake off the tidal wave of emotion and newly accepted responsibility and focus on moving forward. “This dress is fine. I don’t need to try on another one.”
If it were up to me, a plain white sundress would suffice. I’ll still be a sacrifice on the altar of responsibility and honor no matter what I’m wearing.
“Of course.” Meredith turns to Rachel. “Would you lower the soundproofing spell and call for the attendant?”
Rachel hurries to comply. The enchantment lifts, like a veil being drawn away, and soon a cheerful woman with a warm smile is taking my measurements and inundating me with questions about wedding plans and my excitement.
I try to reciprocate her enthusiasm, pasting on a polite smile and providing suitable responses.
She chatters on about her wedding a year ago and how it was the best day of her life. But even though I know in the deepest part of my soul I’m doing the right thing for the right reasons, it doesn’t mean that my heart doesn’t ache for the mate I’m leaving behind.
Outside the shop, I take a deep breath, clearing the smell of roses and perfume and satin from my lungs. It’s then when I notice the scent of another wolf.
Not the bodyguard my father sent with us that Meredith somehow magickally convinced to sit in the car, silent and out of the way, during our trip. He doesn’t even turn his head when we pass by the parked car.
He’s oblivious.
The scent I notice is female and it’s different from normal. It’s thicker, heavier with magick than most wolf scents. In fact, it feels very similar to what I now can identify layered over Meredith and Rachel’s scents.
Magick doesn’t smell. But it does have a presence. So either this female wolf is traveling with more witches or there’s a hell of a lot of magick clinging to her.
“What is it?” Meredith asks, putting a hand on my arm and stopping our walk.
“There’s a wolf nearby. A woman. And she’s got a witch with her... I think.”
Rachel comes up and stops on my other side. “How can you tell? Can you smell witches?” She glances at Meredith and they exchange a surprised look. “The O’Connors never shared that they were capable of telling us apart from humans.”
I shake my head. “You don’t smell, but there’s a heaviness of magick around you. I noticed it after you said you were a witch too. It’s not obvious unless you really look for it. Not like a wolf scent that takes little effort to pick out over humans. It would be easy to overlook. But I live in a constant survival state. I notice tiny details. Things other people ignore.”
“Could someone have come from the court? Followed us?” Rachel asks, keeping her voice low.
Meredith shakes her head, takes both our hands, and pulls us into an alley between two small shops. The light is low. There are no people. And it’s a dead end.
“Someone is following us, but they’re not from our court. I sensed magick outside the shop while you were trying on dresses.”
Rachel’s eyebrows rise together. “How?”
Meredith pulls a necklace loose from her blouse and dangles it in front of us. A large white opal hangs from the end, pulsing with a soft yellow glow. “I didn’t think anything about it getting warm earlier, because you cast the soundproofing spell in the dressing suite. But it didn’t calm down after that. Which means someone is using magick nearby.”
A magickal proximity alert.
“Then why are we trapping ourselves in an alley?” I yank Meredith back toward the safety of the sun-drenched sidewalk. But my heart rate plummets when a dark-skinned woman with long braids steps into the alley, boxing us in. She’s wearing enough leather and flowing robes to give the main character in Assassin’s Creed flashbacks. Whether or not she’s a trained assassin like the character in the video game remains to be discovered, but she’s not just any woman—she’s a Moonbound wolf too, I can smell it. She’s a hybrid.
“She’s not worried about being in an alley with me. Meredith Banfield is one of the most powerful witches alive—a Mathair .” The possible assassin twirls a ring on her finger like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
My wolf growls in my chest and I step in front of Meredith. Rachel steps up to my side and together we completely block the stranger’s view of Meredith.
Meredith puts her hands between our bodies and pushes us both aside, stepping forward toward the stranger. “It’s been a long time since anyone uttered that title aloud in my presence. I despise what it stands for. Who are you?”
A hint of surprise flickers in the stranger’s eyes. “Talia Windham. Lawrence sent me. The Mathairs know you’re in Colorado. He says you need to leave. I’m to help you pack whatever you need and make arrangements for travel.”
Meredith stands still, but her heart races in her chest. Had I not been looking right at her, I would’ve thought she was running for her life.
“Did you not hear me?” Talia takes an impatiently aggressive step toward Meredith.
I snarl and move to block her path forward. “Back off.”
She growls right back and her eyes glow gold. “I can do that too, honey. We’ve both got fangs. The difference is I can knock you on your ass with a few well-placed words too.”
“You’re a witch.” It’s not a question from Rachel’s lips, but a realization. “But you’re a—”
“Wolf,” I interject, my voice heavy with disbelief. “How are you possible?”
Talia grins and relaxes her stance a little. “Takes a bit of generationally strategic hanky-panky, but here I am. And I’m not the only one.”
“The Mathairs would kill you. They would consider you an abomination. A threat to their existence. Why would Lawrence send you out where you might be discovered?” Meredith seems unfazed by the revelation that a wolf-witch hybrid exists while I’m over here trying not to hyperventilate as I absorb a brand-new take on my reality.
Talia’s gaze drops, unable to meet Meredith’s intense gaze. “Look, I don’t know everything. I’m just the messenger today. I was told to help you and your daughter pack and find a court farther west that will take you in. I have the strengths of being a wolf, but I’m also battle trained and can cast spells. I’m handy to have around in a pinch.”
“Where is he?” Meredith presses again, a slight tinge of desperation in her voice.
Talia shakes her head. “He wants you safe, but I can’t tell you where he is. Our safety and the safety of our court depends on its secrecy. There are too many lives at stake. If you know things, the Mathairs can get them out of you.”
A heavy pause lingers in the air. Meredith’s face is a storm of emotions. I’ve never seen her look so uncentered. She gives a terse nod, accepting, though not liking the lack of information.
These Mathairs sound powerful. And who is Lawrence? Why is Meredith so calm?
“I can’t leave right now, Talia. You’ll have to report back that you delivered the message, but that I told you no .” Her fingers wrap around mine and Rachel’s, pulling us along, determined to distance herself from this conversation, and the past that’s come crashing back into her life.
“Meredith, wait, you can’t just do nothing.” Talia’s voice is strained, her footsteps echoing with urgency as she dashes after us. “They’re relentless and they won’t stop until you’re six feet under or bound in chains.”
Meredith’s pace never falters. “You need to go, Talia. It’s not safe for you around me. The wolves in the area, they won’t—”
“Oh, you mean the fucking mafioso-esque Gallagher alpha you’ve inexplicably aligned yourself with? And his unhinged also-alpha brother, both squabbling over territories like petulant children over toys? I’m well aware of the dangerous sandbox you’ve been playing in,” Talia snaps, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve been keeping an eye on you for the last couple of months. Lawrence sent me reinforcements when I told him what was happening.”
Meredith’s fury explodes. She releases us and in one swift motion grabs Talia by the collar, forcefully pinning her against a rusted bus stop pole. “You think watching me for a few months means you understand me? Lawrence doesn’t know me either. A quarter century has passed. I’m glad he found a place where he’s safe from the Mathairs , but lots of people depend on me. Not just my daughter. And I’m not abandoning any of them.”
“He said you’d be stubborn.”
A humorless laugh escapes Meredith’s lips. “In that regard, he remembers me well. Leave, Talia. Go back to your life and leave me to mine. Tell him thank you for the warning, but I’m not leaving my home. Just like he’s not left his for twenty-five years.”
Pain flashes in Talia’s eyes. “He can’t leave. You know what would happen.”
The weight of years of anguish and heartbreak is evident in Meredith’s voice. “I’m painfully aware of the reason I haven’t seen my husband’s face in two and a half decades. Now go.” With a wave of her hand, a powerful gust of wind pins Talia to the pole again, emphasizing her dismissal.
Regaining her composure, Meredith turns back to us. “Come, girls, we need to get some lunch and get back on the road back to Ash Hollow before your bodyguard wets himself in the car where we left him.”