Page 68 of Wolfsbane

That seemed to be enough, though, because the witches huddled together and started out of the square and down the dirty road that led back to the highway.

Wolves followed on their heels.

I closed my eyes and focused on the storm. On calm. We didn’t need the torrential rain it was giving any longer. The fires were out, and the threat was leaving. We needed something gentler now.

As though directly linked to my mood—and maybe it was—the storm immediately responded to me. The rain slowed to a calm patter as most of the pack congregated around us, watching the witches disappear out of our sight, hopefully for the last time.

Me? I was busy trying to decide what to do with Ermengarde’s body. It was too wet to burn things right then. The woodchipper would make an unholy mess. I didn’t especially want to dig a hole for her—if nothing else, that seemed too respectful.

What didn’t escape my attention, though, was the fact that she was dead and I still had Daire’s magic. I should have been frantic and terrified, but I wasn’t at all.

As long as I had Daire’s magic, he wouldn’t leave us.

CHAPTER 38

Daire

They left Mother.

The coven should have taken her. Performed rites. But they’d left her there with the Wildwood pack, no doubt because they weren’t going to wait around and see if Aleks really meant to enforce his half-hour time limit.

If what Tristan said was true, loyalty to her had fractured already. However angry the coven was at me, it didn’t fix what had broken between them. They weren’t going to risk their lives for her corpse.

I squirmed in Viktor’s arms, and when he set me down, he left his arm around the small of my back to steady me, keeping me close even when I bent to pull on my pants.

The last thing that I wanted to do was pull away, but my mother was there in the dirt. Her dark hair was black as ink, soaked through by the rain.

I took a step away, then another. The tether never pulled, so Viktor must’ve come too, but I wasn’t listening. I was stuck, staring at her.

When I reached her I sat on the ground, pulled my legs up to my chest, and combed her hair back from her pale face. Her makeup was a mess. Her throat was nothing more than a giant red gash.

I’d done that.

I could have bitten her anywhere. Could have taken a chunk out of her leg or her arm and she’d have been fine.

Why had I bitten her there?

I’d wanted to stop her awful chanting. I’d wanted her quiet. I’d wanted her⁠—

I’d wanted this. Not consciously, maybe, but the instinct had been so easy. I’d sunk my fangs into her and this was the outcome.

And for some reason, Viktor was willing to fight for me anyway.

No, not some reason. Because Mother had cast the spell that’d hurt him. She’d hurt his pack. She’d been willing to kill us both, not just the night we’d met but tonight too.

Now, she couldn’t hurt anyone ever again, because I’d hurt her.

The others were closer now, but I didn’t look up to see who or why, just stared at her still face and her lips as they turned purple.

“Do you have a shovel?” I asked.

“I’ll find one.” That was Cash. I heard him leave, but couldn’t make myself look up.

“Is there somewhere I can—can I . . . bury her?”

An uncomfortable ripple went through those gathered around, and I shrank. I couldn’t just leave her out there in the rain to rot, though. I needed to do something.

“What about the woods beyond the hunting cabin?” Altair asked. Even in this bleak, wet moment, his voice was filled with kindness and light, a hope threading through it that I couldn’t begin to understand.