“I’m… I’m okay,” I finally whispered, pulling back to look up into his eyes. In their beautiful depths, I found my center, my heart. “I’m sorry I lost it in there.”
“There’s nothing to apologize for,querida.I’m just glad you’re back. You were…” He blew out a misty-white breath. “You were in another realm.”
I fought off a shiver, snuggling into his embrace once again.
Emilio had been right to stop me. Killing Norah, stealing her soul, it wouldn’t have done a damn thing to bring Sophie back. There wasnothingI could do to bring her back—her soul had already moved on.
I closed my eyes, reaching out for her now, remembering her passion, her drive, her love of life.
For Sophie, solving the mystery of the other rumored witch murders and visions she’d had about uniting the covens had never been an obligation or a burden. For her, it wasn’t about some ancient prophecy or magical blood curse or an inexplicable power she spent half her time losing control of, and the other half recoiling from.
No. For her, it had been about something else entirely: love and friendship, sisterhood, the things that truly made life worth living.
More than anything, I wish she were still with me. Right here, right now. She would know what to do.
Oh, Sophie. What am I supposed to do now? Go to this cemetery outpost? What will we even find there?
Immediately, an image appeared in my mind—two Tarot cards from Sophie’s favorite deck. I recognized the cards and their placements from the reading I’d found in her book of shadows.
She’d drawn the Six of Wands, featuring a winged creature with a face shaped like a moon, rising from the center of a flower bud. Five hands raised wooden staffs in her honor, ready to follow her leadership. Then, crossing the Six of Wands, she’d drawn the Four of Swords. In that card, the moon-faced creature was buried in the ground, surrounded by dirt and roses. One sword was buried next to her, with three others piercing the earth above.
There are four of you,Sophie had said.The swords represent four witches. Three standing their ground, waiting for the fourth to rise, to find them and give them purpose.
And then, when I’d pressed for more details,You have to find the others, Gray. The four of you must unite the covens…
Back then, I’d had no idea who the four witches could be. But it was clear to me now. They weren’t just any witches. They were me and my sisters.
I blinked back tears, gulping in a fresh blast of cold air as the implications of those cards—of Sophie’s message—hit.
Yes, we would go to that cemetery. And whatever else might’ve been waiting for us there, we’d find my sisters. We’d find the power to unite the covens and take down the hunters for good. I knew it with utter certainty—more than I’d ever felt about anything in my life, with the exception of the love I felt for my rebels.
My best friend died wanting to help her fellow sisters. She died wanting to help me and every other woman who’d ever called herself a witch, whether that witch was ready to claim her power or not.
So no, maybe I couldn’t save her from Norah’s treachery or the hunters’ twisted plans. I couldn’t even bring her back from the dead, despite my powers—her soul had already moved on.
But I could honor her memory. I could carry onherlegacy… by finally accepting the responsibilities inherent in mine.
I could pick up my sword, find my sisters, and rise the fuck up.
“Let’s get back to the lodge,” I said suddenly, my voice steady and resolute as I blinked the snowflakes from my eyes. “We’ve got some troops to rally.”
Forty
GRAY
The fireplace crackled to life at the back of the common room, around which every occupant of the lodge had gathered. Some were sharing couches, others had brought in chairs from the dining room. Some were sitting cross-legged on the floor, shawls wrapped around their shoulders, coffee mugs in hand.
All eyes were fixed on me.
Tucked into my shirt pocket, close to my heart, three small objects gave me an infusion of strength: the Page of Cups card, in honor of Sophie. The High Priestess, for Calla, the only mother I’d ever known. And the granite heart Liam had given me, carved with the feather I would forever associate with him, no matter how long we might be apart.
I pictured the three of them standing by the fireplace now, their eyes shining with love. With encouragement. And with unshakeable faith in me—faith that I was finally starting to find for myself.
I looked out over the sea of faces gathered before me. Some of them—Haley, Darius, Ronan, Emilio, Asher—I’d come to know, to love. Others were quickly becoming like family, too—Elena, Detective Lansky, Reva, Sunshine, Sparkle. And a few were virtual strangers I’d seen only in passing, women whose names I hadn’t even fully learned.
But all of them were part of this. And all of them deserved my gratitude. My trust. My authentic self, flaws and fears and all.
“Thank you all for being here,” I said, my voice steady despite the jumble of nerves inside. “For those of you who don’t know me, my name is Gray Desario.”
