“Not just his life,” she states, her expression shifting to lecture mode, and not the fun scholastic kind. “By taking over James’s life, he is tied to all those who love him. Becoming a thrall means letting them all go with, at best, weak excuses. After all that family has been through, they’ll never understand why James disappeared from their lives.” She then goes for the jugular with a disappointed gaze. “And we’re going to talk about all the moral implications of what you’ve done. A family doesn’t get to mourn their son because they don’t know he’s dead.”
Hunching my shoulders, I shrink more into myself. Despite the heat, I wish I was wearing my red hoodie, if only to hide from her disappointment.
She stands up and holds out a hand to me. When I take it, she helps me to my feet then holds me in a powerful hug. “I love you. I will always love you.”
“I feel a ‘but’ coming on,” I mumble against her neck.
“However,” she continues, her tone colored with parental exasperation, “that doesn’t change the need to have a long conversation about using your magic ethically. Even if it hurts, sometimes the best course of action is to do nothing. Some things have to run their natural course.”
“Like death?” I whisper.
“Yes.” She rocks me from side to side for a moment, letting her love wash over me and sink in. Once she can sense that I’m a little more settled, she pulls back and looks into my eyes. “Now, we’re going to finish our lesson, then we’re going to have our talk.”
“Okay.” I sniffle, rubbing the remnants of tears from my cheeks and eyes.
She sighs, running a hand along her low French twist. “Convincing the Yonu matriarch that it’s better to sacrifice a teenage boy as a thrall to appease the vampire queen than go to the council is going to be a challenge.”
I frown at her as I take my seat once again in front of the remaining tennis balls. “Why do you need to convince her?”
“The Twin Cedar Coven is now part of the Yonu Coven. All of North America is Yonu territory.” She returns to sitting in front of me. “It was her ancestor who donated this land to the new coven in the first place.”
“When is she officially taking over?” I ask, concerned what this might mean for Felix.
“She technically already has. I’m simply filling in for day-to-day needs until her niece arrives in a few months.” My nan holds out her hand, murmurs something under her breath, and the bouncing menace comes flying through the trees and back into her grasp. She hands the now motionless ball to me. “Remember to focus and empty your mind of everything except the image of the ball bouncing, and don’t forget to breathe.”
Sure, after the roller coaster of a conversation we had, I’m supposed to just empty my mind and think of tennis balls. I sigh, stare at the ball, and once again, hope my troubled mind doesn’t lead to bouncing trees.
Chapter 11
Callie
It’s been a long week since I told Mildred my secret about Felix. The lecture regarding the ethics of what I did was substantial, and now, on top of my magic lessons, we’ll be going over the ethical use of my power, both magical and family influence. She assured me it isn’t a punishment but part of preparing me for when I’ll eventually take over as the Volkov Coven matriarch. Every time I’m reminded of this part of my future, I feel an anxious weight in my belly. I can barely manage my own life. How am I supposed to lead a coven that supports hundreds of thousands of people?
Pushing thoughts of my impending future out of my mind, I pull up to the main gate that leads to the center of pack lands. Relief washes over the two betas guarding the gate when they see me. At first, I think it’s the general ease of the call that comes from being in my presence, but then I feel a rising wave of tumultuous emotions crash over me—anger, pain, grief, despair, and an undertone of pure stubbornness. It pours over me until tears blur my vision.
Blinking until I can see clearly, I speed past the guards as soon as the gate is open. It’s early evening, and the sky is paintedin swaths of pink, orange, and indigo as the sun slides behind the shadowed sentinel of trees that guard the shifters living within their protective depths. Any other time, I’d marvel at their beauty, but all I have room for is Connor. My heart pounds to the refrain of, “Faster, faster, faster,” the closer I get, his pain acute through our bond.
Gravel sprays from beneath my tires as I skid to a halt outside of the alpha house. Built up in the trees, its grand wooden stature is meant to represent a symbol of power and authority, literally positioned higher than all the homes around it. There was a time when it was once a point of pride, but the blood of recent history stains the walls. Even with the renovations, it feels like we are trying to build a new life on the screaming memories that time wants to forget, but I can’t. They haunt me, whispering of the crimes committed by the previous alpha.
Following the tether that connects Connor and me, I jump out of my car, leaving its door open, and race up the stairs, blowing past the guards at the base. There are so many steps, and as desperate urgency fuels my movements, my magic answers my unintended call. Suddenly, a gust of targeted wind wedges beneath me and catapults me to the top. With a strangled shriek, I fall on my hands and knees with a jarring thud. I groan as a set of feminine hands help me to my feet.
Looking up into Sam’s worried gaze, I ask, “Where is he?”
“Alpha suite,” she answers, turning toward the front door once she’s sure I’m steady on my feet. “I’ll take you to him.”
We don’t bother with small talk as she escorts me toward a back part of the house I’ve never been to. The shifting reflections of relief follow me as I pass various guards and staff. They knowtheir alpha is hurting, but they don’t know how to help. I’m a promise that everything will be okay.
Near our final destination, Connor’s mother is blocked by three betas and a set of shifted wolves.
“Let me through,” she demands, outrage pulling her wolf closer to the surface. “I am his mother. If there’s something wrong with my son, I need to be with him.”
The shifted wolves let out a warning growl as the beta in the center states, “No visiting alphas are allowed in the alpha suite,” and not the first time.
“This is ridiculous,” she complains, her words slurred by her elongating teeth. “I’m not some alpha on a diplomatic visit. He is my son. Either let me pass, or I’ll go through you.”
With a quick snap of her arm, Sam grabs Martina by the bicep, her wolf claws digging into the woman’s flesh. “You harm any member of my pack, I will personally see you in the ring.” She tugs her back and lets go, causing Connor’s mom to stumble. “Go back to your room. You are not wanted or needed here. We will support our alpha. Why don’t you worry about your own pack which is currently overstaying their welcome. When are you leaving again?”
“How dare you speak to an alpha with such disrespect?” Her claws grow past her fingertips, and the whites of her eyes give way to black.
