Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Wylder’s Jeep rumbles down a tree-lined street I haven’t been on since I was sixteen years old. The centuries-old white oaks arch from both sides of the roadway, their long branches interlacing to form a tunnel of amber and crimson leaves overhead.
Afternoon light filters through, marking our path in dappled shadows, but ahead, golden shafts illuminate the estate at the end of the road.
Ashcroft Manor.
“Do you remember this place?” Wylder’s knuckles are white on the steering wheel.
“I do.” I press my palm against the cool glass of my side window.
“Mom brought me here for my coven welcome at sixteen. It was right before everything went to shit. Who knew that only a few months later, not only would I not be welcome, but I would be excommunicated for no reason other than merely existing.”
He sends me a sad look, but thankfully, he’s finally past defending Laurel and what the elders did to me. “Are you nervous?”
“Not really.” I lift my hand to the black onyx pendant hanging against my chest and draw comfort as it stabilizes my energy.
“I’m only doing this because you think they deserve a chance to make amends.
I am under no illusions that they’ll help or that they give a shit about what happens to Sebastian, me, or anyone else coloring outside the lines of what they deem a ‘coven-worthy’ issue. ”
Wylder parks on the circular drive. When he turns the key and the rumble of the engine cuts off, he twists in his seat. “You promised to keep an open mind. Give this a chance. We’ll be stronger with their help than we will be without it.”
I’ll give him that. I draw an X over my heart with my finger and give him the sweetest smile I can manage. “I promise. I’m just saying that considering how low my expectations are, there isn’t much to worry about regarding being disappointed.”
He chuckles. “Now look who’s broody.”
I scoff. “No way. I don’t even begin to challenge your title. You’re the OG scowler.”
He pulls the handle of the door and swings his long legs to get out. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
Ashcroft Manor rises before us, all stone and elegance, ivy climbing the walls, and grand double doors that draw the attention of all those who approach the glorious stained-glass panel of the goddess mother depicted over the entrance.
There’s nothing haphazard about this place. Everything here is planned and chosen for the desired effect.
Dazzling the lessers.
Instilling superiority.
Worshipping the elite.
It twists my insides. Mom always taught us that the coven was dedicated to uniting those devoted to the goddess. We are all her humble servants, equal in her eyes, and gifted with blessings for the good of the innocent—both human and in nature.
As we enter, nothing about Ashcroft Manor makes me feel closer to the goddess mother.
High ceilings soar above us, adorned with elaborate crown molding painted in soft creams and golds.
A chandelier dominates the grand foyer, crystal prisms cut in perfect facets, scattering fractal rainbows across the walls like watercolor brushstrokes.
They dance and shimmer with every slight movement, turning the space into something out of a dream.
The energy here feels different from what I’ve encountered since coming home. Not overtly aggressive. Not hostile. But certainly not welcoming.
Not welcoming me, at least.
“This way.” Wylder’s voice is tight, the muscle at the side of his jaw working like he’s chewing glass.
We move through a corridor lined with portraits, generations of Emberwood witches staring down with painted eyes. I recognize a few faces. Laurel, younger but with the same steel in her gaze. A grouping of three photos, one of them being of a woman with Wylder’s bone structure and dark eyes.
My steps slow.
“She was beautiful, wasn’t she?”
“Like old-world Hollywood.”
Wylder smiles at the framed grouping. “This is the first time I’ve been able to look at these photos and not rage inside. These are the three coven members killed that night.”
But not the only three.
Bile burns at the back of my throat to know the memory of my mother was thrown away and marred with blame. Still, there is nothing to be gained by bringing it up again.
I will clear her name and expose the truth in the end.
These people and what they believe are irrelevant.
Chin high, I straighten my spine, and when Wylder opens the door for me, I stride into an elaborate meeting room that steals my breath.
Nine high-back chairs gilded in silver sit around an ebony table so polished it reflects the chandelier above like a dark mirror. Inlays of silver trace the phases of the moon across its surface, from new to full to dark again.
The depiction is rendered in precious metal and a mosaic of gemstones. It’s stunning.
Nine witches occupy the chairs around the table, and I meet the gazes of the Elders of Emberwood.
Laurel sits at the head of the table, her silver hair swept back from her face, light gray eyes tracking our entrance with hawk-like precision. She gestures to two empty ladder-back chairs positioned at the opposite end of the table. “Poppy. Wylder. Please sit.”
Once we’re seated, more coven members filter into the room, taking a seat on the long bench that lines the four walls around us.
I recognize several faces from high school, and a few of Mom’s friends from back in the day.
Amber’s here, arms crossed, her perfectly pink glossy lips pressed thin.
A woman with kind eyes offers me a sad smile. Orion is here and gives me a wink and…
“Dr. Anders?” I straighten in my seat, confusion hitting hard. “What are you doing here?”
Wylder follows my gaze and frowns. “That’s Marcus Lott.”
“No, that’s Dr. Anders, my dentist from Wichita.
Trust me, I’ve seen him once a year for the past five…
” It hits me then. “Dr. Thorne said the block on my powers had been reinforced yearly since I’d been gone.
Seriously? You faked being my freaking dentist to spy on me and keep me under your thumb? ”
Laurel sighs. “Let’s not be dramatic, Poppy.”
“Dramatic? That man had his fingers in my mouth!”
She pegs be with a bored look. “I’ve already explained to you how dangerous spirit magic can be. Of course we took measures to ensure you posed no danger. It was as much for your safety as for anyone else.”
I scoff. “Do you hear yourself? Are you truly so delusional that you can spew that bullshit and not have the taste of manure in your mouth?”
Wylder reaches to where I’m gripping the arm of my chair with a white-knuckled fist and rests his hand over top. A rush of soothing energy floods my cells, and I pull in a calming breath.
Okay, yeah. Not productive.
Dropping the betrayal of learning about my fake dentist, I center myself and read the room.
So many eyes.
So much mistrust.
Beside me, Wylder radiates tension like heat escaping hot asphalt in summer.
Laurel folds her hands on the table. “You requested this meeting. We’re listening.”
I place my hands flat on the table in front of me and begin. “My mother loved this coven.” My voice comes out steadier than I expect. “She believed you were her brothers and sisters. That together you protected this town, this land, and the balance between our world and the others.”
A muscle ticks in Laurel’s jaw.
“Five years ago, Sebastian came to you for help, and you turned him away. He was a stranger within your territory, and you didn’t want to get involved with his ‘demon drama’, so you dismissed him. How am I doing so far?”
Laurel dips her chin. “Go on.”
“But as the tears in the veil grew, my mother felt the suffering of the souls. She came to the council multiple times, begging for you to reconsider what was happening and acknowledge how the innocent suffered. She wasn’t a stranger, and you had no reason not to trust her, but still you turned your back on the situation. ”
A distinguished-looking man with silver hair and a trim beard frowns. “That is a matter of perspective. We were aware of the trouble and were monitoring it. We disagreed about how to move forward and your mother’s proposed methods of handling the situation.”
“But dealing with spirit magic and the souls of the dead was her wheelhouse. Why not acknowledge that when it came to working together with Sebastian, she might know best?”
Laurel pegs me with a patronizing grin. “Why can’t you acknowledge that the combined wisdom of nine Wiccan elders is far beyond what you can comprehend? You’ve been a witch for what, two weeks?”
Yeah, I saw that one coming. “Actually, I’ve been a witch all my life, despite you usurping the goddess mother’s intentions and banning me.
I understand that spirit magic is the black sheep affinity of the Wiccan family, but it’s still an affinity designated by the goddess.
Don’t you think Her combined wisdom and intention is beyond what you can comprehend? ”
The room falls quiet as I let that one land. Ha! Suck it.
There’s no way for Laurel to win that argument. If she defends their decision, it exposes them as putting their intentions over those of the goddess mother. If she can’t defend their decision, she’s admitting to targeting and ruining the life of a goddess-blessed member of the coven.
Score one for the good guys.
“Mom and Sebastian were the two most qualified witches to weigh-in on the problem, but because you didn’t like what was being said, you turned your back and left them in a desperate and dangerous situation.”
Before they can argue, I raise my hand. “I could get into everything that happened, but obviously you’ll just defend your choices, so there’s no use. That’s not why we’re here today, anyway.”
Laurel leans back in her throne and lifts her hands. “Then please, for the love of all that’s sacred, tell us why you are here so we can be done with this moratorium on how the evil Emberwood elders did you wrong.”