“Um…” I struggle to wrap my head around the display of magic I just saw. “Just some sugar, please.”
Soraya waves her hand again, and a tiny bowl levitates off the table and moves towards me. Two sugar cubes are dumped into my cup before the bowl returns to its initial place on the table.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Delaney’s curt, no-nonsense voice makes me turn my head in her direction.
She takes a sip from her teacup, her calculating eyes never leaving my face.
My ribs squeeze my heart like a vise.
“Because I’m half witch.”
“And half dog,” Ara bites out with a curl to her lips.
Irritation flares within me at her tone, but I push it down. The last thing I need to do is start an argument with the three women who hold my fate in their hands.
Delaney waves a hand in the air, her tone decidedly flippant. “Semantics.” She then turns towards me, finally lowering her teacup back to the table. “You’re here, young Isabella, because you possess powerful witch blood. Your mother?—”
The first flicker of emotion I’ve seen before distorts her features, but only for a fraction of a second. It’s not nearly enough time for me to get a read on what she’s feeling.
“Your mother was immensely powerful.”
“Until she whored herself to the wolves,” Ara murmurs.
This time, I can’t stop the white-hot anger from crackling within me.
“Don’t talk about her like that,” I snap, indignant on behalf of a woman I’ve never met.
Ara meets my stare with a frosty one of her own. “It’s the truth, child. Your mother could’ve been the most powerful witch our coven has ever seen, yet she threw it all away for those damn mongrels. Hell, she could’ve even been the Mother if she had stayed?—”
“Enough!” Delaney slams her fist down on the table, causing the teacups to rattle.
Her lips remain set in a thin line, but her eyes… Her eyes tell a different story. They shimmer with barely concealed rage.
“That is my sister you’re talking about.” She squeezes her eyelids shut and takes a deep, calming breath. “But we’re not here to discuss her or her decisions.”
“No, we’re just here to discuss your sister’s idiot daughter.” Ara sneers at me. “Like mother like daughter, huh? Don’t think we’re oblivious to your relationship with those…furry beasts.”
I dig my nails into my palms hard enough to draw blood.
I want to defend my mates the way I did my mom, but Amanda’s warning rings like a death knell in my head. The last thing I need is to draw more attention to myself…or my mates. I need to keep my head on straight if I have any hope of making it out of this mess.
Soraya volleys her gaze between the Crone and me. Concern etches lines onto her forehead. “Is that true? Are you in a relationship with wolf shifters?”
I don’t bother to respond, mainly because she already knows the answer. Her “concern” is nothing but a ruse designed to make me lower my defenses.
“We’re not here to discuss Isabella’s dating life.” Delaney gives both the Crone and Maiden a droll look before refocusing on me. “We’re here to decide if she exhibits any power.”
“I don’t,” I blurt automatically. “I’ve never been able to do magic in my life.”
Delaney’s lips purse as she considers me before she seems to reach some conclusion. She leans back in the chair, her lips stretched in a taut line.
“That may be the case, but we’ll know for sure at the end of this month.”
“What’s this month?” I flicker my gaze between the three women.
“The witching moon,” Soraya answers, still determined to play good cop, despite the cunning gleam in her eyes.
“It’s where our magic is heightened,” Delaney explains. “Even the most…subpar witches are able to perform exemplary magic.”
