“No, this is her aunt,” Mildred informs him, tense patience still the major theme in her tone. “Callie informed me that you had your entire pack make a blood oath swearing their loyalty to her, along with you, and in return she promised to protect the pack from outside forces. Is that correct?”
“Actually, I promised to protect those only loyal to Connor specifically,” I amend, but from the look she gives me that fact doesn’t really help anything.
As Connor makes a grunt that implies my aunt’s account is accurate, I attempt to ignore my sweaty palms and my racing heart, I think it’s trying to escape my chest and head for the likely nonexistent mole people.
Mildred makes a ‘someone save me from idiot children’sigh, then continues, “I imagine you didn’t consider that you’ll have to file the paperwork with the local coven stating that Callie is your liaison for all matters pertaining to potential violations of supernatural law. Paperwork that can be checked at any time by the Council. The exact group of individuals I’m trying to hide Callie from, lest they take her away and do goddess knows what with her.”
Connor doesn’t answer, letting his silence speak for him. I want to stand up for him. Say he was only trying to protect me, and the Council can go ahead and come for me. But I’m also trying to bring Felix back from the dead. Anyone, not just the Council, looking too hard at me would be bad.
Coward. Coward. I’m such a coward.
“I understand why you did it. You wanted to protect Callie, and I don’t think anyone wants to be beholden to Neva,” Mildred relents, like she can read my mind. She rubs between her brows, then continues, “If you want to continue to protect Callie, you will do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” Connor concedes, which is surprising since he chose to use a word when a grunt could do.
“Very good,” she replies, crossing her arms while still holding the phone to her ear. “You will write up a document stating that your pack is now under the protection and responsibility of the Volkov Coven. This afternoon, I will come to pack lands, and we will sign it in blood.”
Connor growls, clearly unhappy with this particular suggestion.
Mildred patiently states, “It’s not a lie, and it won’t invalidate your oath. Callie, by blood, is a member of the Volkov Coven, and due to her power and lineage, she’ll eventually become the matriarch of the coven.”
“I will?” I squeak, completely blindsided by that bit of news. How the hell am I supposed to lead a coven? I’m still working on not blowing anything up with my trigger-happy magic.
“Assuming I can protect you from the Council, yes, you will,” she addresses me, covering the phone with her hand. “I promise to discuss it more with you at a better suited time.”
“Better suited time? Oh sure,” I mutter sarcastically, trying not to grind my teeth. “Just a thought, but uh, won’t it be a problem that the pack is contracted with our coven in another coven’s territory?”
A tight smile takes over Mildred’s face. “Yes, it will. Which you both might bloody well have thought ofbeforeall of this, but youdidn’t, so here we are.” She clears her throat, sits up straight, and removes her hand covering the phone while looking like she’s trying not to magically strangle Connor through it. I’m starting to get why Felix might be a tiny bit scared of my aunt. “I will deal with Neva and any other complications that arise. Get the document written up now,Alpha.”
She hangs up before Connor can grunt a reply and returns my phone to the front pouch of my backpack.
“So…am I grounded?” I question into the very thick silence. “I don’t really know the protocol of punishment for participating in a blood oath without permission.”
Mildred snorts, then covers her mouth in an attempt to hide the fact that she’s amused. Finally, she releases yet another sigh while again rubbing between her brows. “No, you’re not grounded, but when it comes to magic, particularly ceremonies involving blood, I’d appreciate you consulting me first.”
Really hope bringing people back from the dead doesn’t require blood magic.
“Yes, Aunt Mildred,” I reply, sounding at least semi-remorseful.
It’s not my intention to make her life more difficult, I just…am. I ignore the fear climbing up my throat that there will come a day when I’ll become too difficult. More trouble than I’m worth.
Definitely not telling her about trying to bring Felix back from the dead.
Mildred puts on some classical music with the volume set low. For the rest of the ride, we focus on my driving and getting us to the Mayor’s house in one piece—because of course that’s where the classes are held. It’s an old red brick building that, though not as large as the Campbell estate, definitely requires staff to maintain.
I park my aunt’s black Mercedes behind a long line of cars on the street, having to adjust a few times until I’m properly close enough to the curb. When we get out of the car, I retrieve my backpack—I brought it in case I needed to make notes—and Mildred retrieves what looks like the Volkov grimoire, requiring both hands to carry the massive book.
A grin stretches across my face because this is definitely a power play if I’ve ever seen one. She could’ve brought one of the binders from her workshop in the garage, or maybe one of the smaller grimoires from the family blood magic chest. But oh no, she chose the giant ass book emblazoned with the Volkov family crest.
I grip the straps of my backpack, and concentrate on my breathing as we climb the two tiers of stairs that cut the well manicured lawn in half and lead us to the blue front door.Is the entire state of Oregon nothing but a mass collection of stairs?
Mildred rings the doorbell while I look around the porch. There’s a thick line of rectangular hedges that wrap around the front of the building, protecting the area from peering eyes. They then merge into large amounts of trees and foliage that show peeks of a wrought iron fence that likely surrounds the property. It’s a very pretty way of telling onlookers to mind their own business.
Neva answers the door. Her expression grows increasingly pinched and flushed as she takes us in—her eyes zeroing on the Volkov family crest on my aunt’s giant book. In contrast, Mildred appears innocently calm, as if she just happened to find this old thing lying around and decided to bring it with her.
“The children are gathered in the backyard,” Neva grinds out, her fake smile not doing so well at the corners.
“Wonderful. Care to lead the way?” Mildred responds, her smile looking far more natural—and yeah, a little smug.
