Chapter 19 #2
Wylder and I sit in silence for a long moment, the smell of smoke and pine sap heavy in the air.
Despite them being hateful wenches, I’m conflicted about hurting Amber and her friend.
I will never back down from protecting myself, but the fact that I enjoyed their suffering as much as I did is alarming.
It’s also not like me.
He flicks a serious gaze at me, studying me from beneath slashing brows. “Poppy, about what happened. That was...”
“A clusterfuck disaster, I know.”
He runs a hand through his dark hair. “On the one hand, yes. Attacking another witch is bad. Attacking a witch within your own coven is a hugely serious offense.”
I scoff. “Would it be childish to say that she hexed me first? Because she did. We both know she did.”
He dips his chin. “You can’t prove it, but she can prove you lost control and directed your magic as an attack on her.”
I roll my eyes. “Lost control, yes. Directed an attack at her? No, that was karma biting her in the ass. I didn’t plan that in any way.”
“Maybe not consciously, but magic is fueled by intent.”
Can I argue that? I think Amber got a taste of what she deserves, but was it premeditated? I really don’t think it was.
“You said ‘on one hand’ it was a disaster. What’s the other hand?”
He shrugs. “You have an incredible amount of power.”
Yay me. “It’s been dammed up so long it’s like a tidal wave of magical force trying to get out.”
He snaps his fingers absently, and a small flame bursts to life from his thumb before he smothers it with his other hand as if it never happened.
“True, but there’s more to it. I saw your scans back in the warehouse and the readouts Dr. Thorne compiled at the Destiny Spire.
You have an incredible amount of raw power within you.
That means you need to consider that when your temper flares. ”
And normally I do, but there was something so satisfying about Amber and her friend suffering. The fear in their eyes. The panic in their cries. It felt amazing to be the one dishing that out instead of being on the receiving end. Powerful.
Does that make me a horrible person? Maybe.
Still, it is what it is. “And I’m sure when you report back to Laurel, she’ll use this against me as another example of how out of control I am and further proof of why I can’t be left to live my life.”
Wylder falls quiet, his expression turning serious. He studies my expression for a long moment before speaking again. “She’s not your enemy, Poppy. She feels responsible for the state you’re in and the lack of control you possess.”
My jaw drops. “Because she is responsible for it. This is all on her.”
Thankfully, he doesn’t try to defend her. “Well, she’s trying to make amends.”
Yeah, well, too little, too late.
He’s quiet when he looks at me, his expression solemn. “Whether or not you trust her motivations, I’m here to help. It’s more important than you know for you to learn control both in offense and defense.” He gestures to the tree I torched and he had to heal.
I sigh, sensing more coming. “And why is that?”
When he purses his lips and says nothing, I roll my eyes. “You say you’re here to help, and I should trust you, but you hold back and are a minion of the woman who ruined my life. You see why I have a problem with this, right?”
Wylder frowns. “I’m not her minion. I’m a member of the coven of which she is my headmistress.”
“Potato-tomato. From where I sit, you’re the headmistress’ pet and her good little soldier.”
He tosses his hands up. “Right, because you know me.”
“No, I don’t. That’s my point. I can’t get to know you because all you do is glare at me, guarded and judgy.”
My frustration seems to get through to him because he drops his head back and sighs.
“Fine. I’m not supposed to get into it with you, but the truth is you admitted to having contact with Sebastian, and while you might be impressed by him, he’s dangerous.
He led your mother down a dangerous path, and Laurel is worried—we’re all worried—he brought you back because he has plans for you. ”
I shrug. “He does. He’s said as much.”
He groans and rakes his fingers through his long hair. “So, why are we the bad guys?”
“Because he hasn’t lied or hidden things from me. He found me, gave me back my stolen life, and saved me when I lost control. Honesty goes a long way, and he hasn’t done anything that makes me doubt his sincerity.”
Wylder’s jaw tightens. “He’s demon-tainted.”
“Apparently, so am I.”
“He harnessed bound spirits for power, used his Wiccan gifts to enslave souls, and raised echoes of the dead to fight for him. He stopped seeing the dead as people, Poppy. That’s necromancy, and it’s an insidious, dark perversion of our power.”
A chill runs through me that has nothing to do with the morning air.
The rant seems to deflate Wylder a little, and he takes a quiet breath before speaking again. “When Sebastian came to Emberwood and asked for help, the elders of Emberwood deemed his plan too risky and beyond the tenets of Wiccan magic. They refused to help him.”
“But whatever he was dealing with, my mother considered it dire enough to step up. Think about it... Until that moment, she was a respected member of the coven, and she gave her life to help him. Don’t you think there’s a possibility she knew something the elders didn’t?”
He looks at me directly, storms brewing in his green gaze.
“There were never problems with spirits leaving their resting places before Sebastian arrived in Emberwood. There were never rifts or demon issues. I’m just saying to be wary.
There’s a good reason everyone is angry.
Your mother wasn’t the only victim to suffer for her choices. ”
The implications sink in slowly, heavy as a rock in my gut. He’s hurt and angry. The glaring. Was someone he cared about killed that night?
“We don’t know what Sebastian is planning,” Wylder adds, cutting off my thoughts. “But we do know what happened the last time, and we’re pretty sure he’ll use you to try again.”
It’s nothing Sebastian hasn’t alluded to, but obviously from a different perspective. And maybe it’s no different from the first time when it involved my mother.
Sebastian believes there’s danger from the rifts, and the coven doesn’t support him or his theories and wants to shut him down.
“I’ll be careful,” I say, unsure what else to offer.
I won’t be a puppet to Sebastian, but that goes double for Laurel and the witches of the Emberwood coven. It makes it even more critical that I get a hold of my magic so I can stand on my own and make my own decisions.
I need to learn, get stronger, and protect myself.
Brushing myself off, I stretch my neck out and get ready to focus. “Okay, one personal shield bubble coming up.”