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21
Sable
The crowd around me stumbles away, more screams and cries rising up.
Archer, Trystan, and Dare press closer as if they can shield me from view. They’re bigger and wider than I am, so maybe that would be possible if my secret wasn’t so publicly declaring itself to anyone with functional eyes.
I cross my arms, trying to hide the black marks from sight. But even shoving my hands inside my shirt sleeves to stem the flow of black smoke doesn’t work. Thick swirls of it float around me, dark and wispy and completely out of control. All those days with Archer in the barn on East Pack lands didn’t do me any good. I lost control of my emotions watching Ridge in danger, and as a result, I lost control of the magic.
It’s too late to pretend. To cover it up or lie. Everyone knows, and a ripple of horrified unease is moving through the spectators.
The two massive wolves are still battling it out, oblivious to what’s happening for just a moment longer before they sense the change in atmosphere. They break apart, their noses lifting to the air, and Ridge’s gaze lands on me. His eyes widen, a low whine escaping his throat.
Not a soul moves for a long time. I can feel the weight of a hundred gazes on me, and they burn through me. Nearby, Amora’s mouth is open in horror, and across the circle, Elder Jihoon looks as if he’s seen a ghost. Guess your magic sticks were wrong, weren’t they? I want to scream at him.
The magic won’t fade—it stays visible, burned into my skin, branding me as a witch.
I want to assure the shifters around me that I’m not their enemy. That I never wanted this, I didn’t ask for it. But what good would that do? Even Dare, who at one point had feelings for me, had a hard time coming to terms with me being a witch. So why would these people who don’t even know me trust that I mean them no harm?
Right now, Dare looks as horrified as the surrounding pack, but he doesn’t leave my side. He places a hand on my shoulder despite the black marks marring my skin, and I can’t help the small flicker of relief at the feel of his heavy palm. He still struggles with what I am, but that single gesture tells me that he’s on my side.
I see the moment Lawson decides to make his move.
Maybe he spies a way he can hurt Ridge even more than by taking the alpha spot away from him. I can almost sense his plan—make the girl collateral damage, and it will not only hurt Ridge, but make him a hero by defeating the witch who infiltrated their pack.
The big blond wolf leaps at me, sharp teeth bared and jaw open. In the same instant, Archer, Trystan, and Dare all shift, magic rippling over them. I have a brief moment of lucidity where I think, oh God, what does this mean for Ridge’s fight? And then I brace for the impact of his large body.
But Lawson never makes it to me.
Ridge heads him off in mid-air, and I hear the breath expelled from the vicious wolf’s lungs as Ridge slams into Lawson with his shoulder. I open my eyes in time to see both wolves go sprawling to the dusty ground.
A cry rises up in the crowd, and several angry faces turn my way.
Trystan growls and steps ahead of me, while Archer and Dare take either side. All three wolves have their hackles raised as they stare down Lawson. Ridge stands and bounds over to stand in front of all of us, baring his teeth at his brother.
Lawson gets to his four paws, and then magic shimmers over him as he shifts back to his human form. He laughs maniacally, pointing at me, an expression of disbelief on his meathead face. He looks around at the crowd, his eyes wild. “Are you seeing this? Your alpha is siding with filthy witches now.”
Ridge shifts back to human form before his brother stops speaking, and snarls, “Back the fuck off, Lawson. This fight is about us, not her.”
“This is just one more reason you need to be replaced as alpha,” Lawson says sharply, staring Ridge down as rage twists his features. “You brought the enemy into our territory where she could infiltrate our pack. I even recall someone suggesting the whore you found in the ravine could have been an undercover witch, and you swore she wasn’t. Said she was your mate.” He laughs again. “So you’re a liar now too.”
Ridge’s hands fist at his sides. “Sable is not the enemy. And she is my mate.”
Lawson guffaws. “How? How does a wolf mate with a witch?”
Tension spreads through the gathered shifters. The crowd begins to flow in two directions—some men and women joining Lawson in his face-off with us, but a surprising number of shifters choose to join us.
On the other side of the clearing, several shifters transform into wolves and stalk forward to flank Lawson. I sense the magic of others shifting behind me, and then half a dozen wolves walk around me and my men, joining Ridge at the front of our party with their teeth bared and hackles raised.
I’m happy to see that not everyone bought into Lawson’s smear campaign. I was appalled that no one stood up to the man in the beginning, but clearly, there are plenty who know Ridge is the alpha they need.
But now…
Shit, this just got more dangerous. It’s no longer Lawson versus Ridge, but a revolution within the pack, and it’s all my fault. The tension is so thick in the air that it’s almost impossible to breathe. Beside me, Archer’s ears lie flat on his head and a snarl reverberates in his throat. Trystan moves closer to me, snapping his teeth at the wolves on the other side of the circle.
A fight is brewing, and there’s nothing in the world that will keep it from happening.
Terror fills me, even stronger than the fear I felt while I watched Ridge fight Lawson. My magic hasn’t faded—it’s still clearly visible in every scar on my skin, and I can feel it pulsing inside me, ready to let loose if it feels the least bit threatened.
