Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
The air around us feels heavy, charged with leftover magic and the weight of what just happened, both in the vision of my mom I witnessed from five years ago and with her coming to me, to give me back what was taken.
Wylder helps me to my feet, standing behind me, his grip firm on my elbows. Rowan hovers close, while Orion hasn’t let go of my hand.
I take a shaky breath, the bonfire still crackling in front of me, the flames dancing as if celebrating my breakthrough. But there’s nothing celebratory about what I need to say.
“My mom was trying to save everyone.” The words come out raw, scraped from somewhere deep.
“She and Sebastian—they were working a dangerous ritual to seal tears in the veil between Emberwood and a demon trying to gain access to our realm. And yes, they had taken control of the spirits of the undead, but they weren’t being raised for power.
The demons were using them as fuel to power their incursion.
Mom and Sebastian had to take control of them to end their exploitation. ”
Wylder’s expression darkens. “A demon incursion?”
“Yes.” I swipe at my face, clearing the tears. “Mom and Sebastian were containing it, binding the demon to his realm before it could fully manifest. But then—” My throat tightens. “Laurel and the coven leaders showed up. They barged in and tried to shut things down.”
Rowan’s breath hitches. “During an active binding ritual?”
I nod. “And Laurel brought my father. I remember that now. She showed up at our house that night and told my dad that my mom was in incredible danger and he needed to come. He was torn. Mom had told us all earlier that she had to do something dangerous, but she needed us to trust her. And if things went wrong, Dad would know what to do.”
Orion frowns. “But if he knew that, why would he go?”
“Laurel convinced him he was the only one who could save her, but the moment Mom saw him at the ritual, she panicked and lost focus. It was only a split-second of indecision, but it was enough. Her intention shifted, and the containment shattered. The demon broke free of the partial binding, and everything went to hell.”
I meet Wylder’s gaze, willing him to understand. “The mark on our bloodline isn’t because she summoned the demon or because she was in league with dark magic in any way. It’s a scar from the ritual going wrong—from her trying to stop it.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
Orion squeezes my hand. “The coven got it wrong and blamed her for the very thing she was trying to prevent.”
“And now, if Sebastian’s right and the rifts are opening again...” I straighten my shoulders, feeling the certainty settle into my bones. “I will help him finish what she started. No matter what the coven thinks.”
The declaration hangs in the air like a challenge.
Wylder stares at me, confusion, anger, and grief warring in his expression in equal measure.
I have no interest in hearing his excuses for his precious coven. Orion’s hand is warm in mine, and I give it a squeeze. Despite everything, the fear, the fury, and the grief I feel for what was taken from me, I flash him a wide smile.
“Mom gave me another gift, too, Oreo.”
His silver-blue eyes widen, the feline pupils dilating. All the worry melts from his face, replaced by something bright and hopeful. “You’ve got your memory back?”
I nod, fresh tears spilling over, but this time they’re happy ones. “I’m back, baby!”
He pulls me into a crushing hug, lifting me off my feet. I laugh into his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of winter pine and something wild. When we were kids, I used to tease him about smelling like Christmas morning. Wow, I’d forgotten that. I’d forgotten so much.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispers against my hair. “Even when you were back and didn’t remember me, I missed you.”
“I know. I’m sorry I—”
“Don’t.” He sets me down but doesn’t let go. “You’re here now. That’s all that matters.”
We’re still holding onto each other when the air shimmers beside us. A spectral image materializes before Orion—Eliza’s form flickers, translucent and urgent.
“Aunt Eliza?” Orion stiffens.
The pack alpha doesn’t waste time on pleasantries. “The ley lines are destabilizing. Magic in Emberwood is getting erratic. I want you home before the link to Arcana collapses and you’re stuck there.”
My stomach drops. “How bad is it?”
“Bad enough that I’m burning through pack magic to send this message.” Her gaze fixes on me. “I hope you’ve been working hard, Poppy, because if I’m right about what’s happening, we’re going to need you.”
The image flickers and blinks out.
I’m already moving, Orion beside me. “We have to get our things and get back there.”
“No.” Wylder grabs my shoulder and pulls me to a stop, his expression hard. “You’re not ready.”
I stare at him. “Are you serious right now?”
He straightens, looking foreboding. “Your control is still developing. Your shields are barely functional. If there’s a demon-related crisis happening, you could—”
“Dude, stop.” Orion’s voice carries an edge I’ve rarely heard from him.
“She may not be all the way there, but she’s back to herself.
There’s nothing Poppy—the true Poppy Hallowind with a restored connection to her ancestral power—can’t do.
And if the magical flux of the ley lines has something to do with demon rifts, Poppy is the one person needed in Emberwood.
Sebastian might be the boogeyman of the coven, but he brought her back for a reason. ”
Wylder frowns. “And if she’s overwhelmed and loses control like her mother did?”
“Stuff it, Plant Boy,” S’Nark gripes, landing on my shoulder and shifting from being a crow to his gremlin form, his leathery wings tucked tight.
“If rifts are opening, the big guns are serious about making a move. You and your ilk didn’t have the stones to get involved five years ago.
What makes you think you get a say now? Besides, none of you knows what’s happening or what that means yet. ”
Orion blinks and casts a sideways glance. “Well, alrighty then.”
I look at Wylder, letting all my determination show. “I’m going home. You can either help me get there, or I’ll figure it out myself.”
His jaw clenches, the muscles flexing. I’m sure he’s going to physically block my path and forbid me to go back, but then he exhales, sharp and frustrated.
“Fine, we’ll go. But you won’t just be running headlong into the fight.
There will be no heroics. No experimenting with spells you haven’t mastered.
And if I tell you something is beyond your scope, you will listen to me. Understood?”
The idea of kowtowing to anyone rankles, but if it gets me home, I’ll agree. For now. I lift three fingers and pledge my obedience. “Scout’s honor.”
I’m already turning toward the Academy building when Orion snorts. “We got kicked out of Scouts.”
I laugh. “Oh, I remember.”
Orion and I are still cackling about childhood antics as we run across the manicured lawn, Wylder and Rowan flanking us. The Academy looms ahead, its spires reaching toward the afternoon sky. Students linger in the courtyard, but they scatter when they see the look on Wylder’s face.
“I’ll speak to Headmistress Briar,” he says. “Rowan, help them gather what they need. The three of us leave in five minutes, no more.”
Rowan scoffs. “Oh, hell no. I’m coming too.”
Wylder frowns. “What? Why?”
She pegs him with a look. “Because if you’re battling demons and shadow minions, who do you think is best suited to be on the team—you, a plant guy? Or me, a witch with Shadow Manipulation and Cursecraft?”
Wylder lets out a sigh and holds up his hands. “If this pisses off your folks, I’m not taking the heat.”
Rowan laughs. “My folks will be relieved I’m not coming back yet. My gift gives people the creeps.”
“Preach, sista!” I hold up my knuckles for a bump as we continue toward the dormitory.
My heart hammers against my ribs—part excitement, part dread. I’m going home. To Asher, to the home I shared with my family, and to the town where my mother died trying to save everyone.
And to whatever is waiting for us in Emberwood….
The standing stones take form around us before the nausea from portal travel fully hits. I stumble forward, catching myself on weathered granite still humming with residual magic.
The first thing I notice is that the air tastes wrong. It’s got a metallic edge to it, sharp, like licking a battery. Above us, ribbons of spectral light twist through the evening sky, a magical aurora borealis where it has no business being.
“Yikes,” Rowan breathes, staring up at the celestial event. “That’s not normal, right?”
“Very not normal.” I press my palm flat against the stone, feeling the erratic pulse beneath. The ley line energy surges and stutters, like a heart struggling to keep rhythm.
Wylder’s already moving down the hill, his long stride eating up ground. “We need to assess the damage and find out what we’ve missed.”
“And then what?” Orion jogs to keep pace.
“Then we go to the coven and explain what’s happening.”
I roll my eyes. “Wylder, I get that you’re super loyal and Laurel’s trusted lapdog, but you don’t honestly think she’s going to welcome any of this, do you?”
He frowns. “No, not welcome it, but after what you say you saw—”
“Excuse me?” I peg the guy with a scowl. “Are you suggesting I made it up? Are you really so desperate to have Laurel remain your pillar of leadership that you think I’d lie about any of this?”
He meets my scowl and raises me an icy glare. “I didn’t say that, but there is still a chance that the vision might’ve been a manipulation. You’re so new to magic, you wouldn’t even know what to question.”