Page 71 of The Witch’s Daughter

“I know this one,” I rushed to say. Hecate was the goddess of witchcraft and the moon. Gram mentioned her specifically numerous times. In some myths, she blended in with all the other goddesses of the moon. Selena, Diana, Athena… “We celebrate the goddesses of the moon.”

Not we, exactly. But Amarok pack did, and they threw a mean Luna festival that my sisters and I loved to attend.

“You celebrate a perversion of the moon and passing of the seasons, as if Earth were the only one worth your worship.” Vincent smiled condescendingly, like I was a child. “And you’ve forgotten the old gods.”

“That’s not true,” I said, glancing around when I saw we’d picked up a little audience from those gathered in the back pews as the song changed. “I pray to the gods.”

“Do you pray to them? Or do you curse them with your flippant tongue by calling on them for any little inconvenience?” Vincent crossed his arms over his chest and waited.

It was just a figure of speech.

I thought about arguing with him and explaining that was how culture worked. As a species, we’d blended together for so many years that our gods and religions had blended too, and we only kept the bits and pieces that served us now.

But then I remembered my covert, self-imposed recon mission and decided to play dumb.

My eyes widened slightly, like I was a fawn. “Oh, my gods.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, catching my slip of tongue. “You’re right.”

He blinked.

I let my shoulders drop. “I didn’t think about it like that. We don’t worship them daily. Not like they used to. And when we pray, we don’t call them out by name.”

There were murmurs of approval from the curious backrow onlookers before they turned to face front again, joining in on the new hymn.

I could’ve pointed out the irony in this form of worship, but Vincent seemed to think he’d won and I didn’t care to correct him.

Told you he was crazy.

“You’re not alone in your ignorance, but I’m glad you can see the error of your ways so quickly.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Time to turn up the charm. “Yes. Thank you for showing me. I’ll definitely rethink some things.”

“We’ll have plenty of time to help you reflect.” Vincent turned, heading toward the tent exit.

I lingered a moment longer, scanning the heads of the worshippers one last time, before hurrying to catch up with him. “If you don’t mind me asking, what does this have to do with the witches trapped behind the human walls?”

I knew that purists prayed to science, but something about all this wasn’t quite making sense.

“It has everything to do with them.” Vincent held out his arm for me to take. “I’ll have to tell you more about it later, after we speak with our new guests.”

“Guests?” I had to fight down the revulsion of my wolf as I placed my hand in the crook of his elbow.

Vincent patted my hand and strolled lightly, as if this was where he’d always wanted to be. “It seems there are some Alphas who are requesting an audience with you.”

Finally. My wolf sighed. It’s time to leave.

But a stone sank to the pit of my stomach and I had a feeling in my gut that I was only starting to scratch the surface of what we were dealing with here.

I needed more time to see this through.

26

Jaxon

Alpha Liam Ossory met us at the border. He was short for an Alpha, but his shoulders were broad and he carried himself with an air that told me he took care of his own. I immediately liked the guy, until he scowled at me.

“I take it you’re Alpha Jaxon.” His handshake was as rough as his voice. “And you must be Alpha Kera.” Her name held a little more awe. I could understand that. Everyone—especially Alphas—knew of Kera, and he was young enough to have idolized her during his formative years.

“Thank you for meeting with us today,” Kera said.