The magic from the house slowly bled into the ground, the earth rippled, and her eyes widened when the plants and trees—hell, even the very grass—transformed. Everything grew,becoming bigger and lusher. She’d swear that some of the trees and vines were almost sentient.
Then the magic hit the wards.
They bowed under the influx of power, and a pearl-like shimmer rose above them in a spectacular wave that stole her breath. Even as it soared over their head, she sensed it plowing under the ground until they were in a protective bubble.
Pressure built in her head, becoming almost unbearable, her vision blurring.
The guys winced.
Shade and Ward pressed their fingers against their temples.
A second later, there was an audible pop.
Her ears rang for a second, then sounds came rushing back, and she gulped as air filled her lungs. She hadn’t even been aware she’d been struggling. The pressure lifted, leaving her feeling light and floaty.
It took her a second to realize that part of the sensation was because Kincade had swept her up in his arms. To her shock, the whole area filled with wolves, both metal and flesh. As one, they tipped back their heads and howled, Loki included, and she shivered as the power of it shimmered over her skin.
Draven skipped ahead and opened the door for them, and everyone bundled inside the foyer. Though the insides remained relatively the same, it looked bigger and brighter.
Alive.
Ward broke the silence. “The boost to the wards won’t last forever, the blood magic will eventually fade, but the wards should be repaired and fully operational by then.”
“Will it be enough?” Ascher crossed his arms, edging forward so Ward and Shade were forced to keep their distance from her. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of doing it.
“It will have to be.” Kincade’s arms tightened around her, the low grumbly sound of his voice making her sigh and relax into him. “She’s not doing that again soon. I don’t like how it drained her and left her vulnerable.”
Shade ran a hand through his hair, the strands looking a bitrumpled. “What she did…it shouldn’t be possible. Most witches need a full coven to manage even a fraction of that power. It was like she’d just set off a flash bomb, and people are going to investigate.”
Ryder growled, clearly struggling to control his wolf. He looked hulked out, his shoulders broader, the seams of his shirt and pants straining to contain his form. Smoke rose from Ascher’s clothes, his boots leaving smudges on the floor, where they had partially melted.
Atlas and Caedmon looked outwardly composed, but their eyes gave them away—Atlas was pure dark elf, his umber eyes bright, while Caedmon’s yellow eyes were glowing, his beast resting just under his skin. Draven headed toward the window with a forbidding scowl, as if expecting to see ninjas sneaking across the property at any second.
Shade ignored her mates, his eyes troubled. “Your magic is so strong that if you continue to boost the wards, they will become impenetrable.”
“But?” She waited for the other boot to drop…and squish her under it.
“Give too much, and you will find yourself bound to the coven.” He said it like it was a tragic revelation.
Like he was dooming her to a life of torment.
Kincade stiffened, his arms turning just this side of bruising. Morgan patted his chest, snuggled against his shoulder, and gave Shade a tired smile. “From the time I can remember, the greatest achievement for an assassin or witch is being assigned a coven. I never dreamed I would actually be running my own.”
She wiggled away from Kincade, and he reluctantly set her down, then pulled her back against his chest, refusing to release her completely. Morgan leaned against his hard form, grateful for his support, the stone from his gargoyle warm and comfortable. “When a witch and her mates take over a coven, they are bound to the coven, but it usually takes decades or longer.
“I belong at the coven. With my mates. With the wolves.” She flashed a smile at her men, their shoulders back, their headshigh, proud warriors that looked at her with so much love that her heart leapt. “This is my home.”
Shade tipped his head to the side, a touch of confusion and longing in his eyes, then he sighed and stepped back. “You almost make it sound…pleasant. We must return to the Academy. I don’t like leaving it and Breanna unprotected for so long.”
Ward reached out, void magic swirling in the air between his palms. When he pulled his arms apart, a large black hole whirled into existence, revealing a cozy room at the Academy on the other side. The warden stepped away from the portal, waiting for Shade to exit first.
But instead of leaving, Shade hesitated, almost wringing his hands as he fretted. “The marks on your back are more than just a key like they want you to believe.”
“What do you mean?” Atlas lost the last bit of his restraint, looking savage as he stalked toward the demigod, no doubt ready to strangle answers out of him. Caedmon grabbed his arm to halt him. The two communicated silently, then turned toward Shade and crossed their arms, the actions completely in sync.
“They call it a key, but it is much more than that.” He ran a hand along his jaw, the scruff rasping, and he gave her a look like he was issuing her a death sentence. “It’s a direct link to the void. A few people are born with them every generation. Most are either killed at birth or carefully maintained?—”
“You mean kept prisoner,” Draven snapped, tapping a blade against his thigh as if debating the best way to pin the demigod to the wall and skin him alive. “A tool to be used and abused. They would have no control over their own life or will to live.”
