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“Of course,” Ridge says respectfully.
As my mates all head toward the door, Elder Jihoon pauses at my side and takes my hand. He pats the back of it gently, a knowing smile on his face.
“I told you,” he murmurs. “I knew there was wolf in you, girl.”
I nod my head in something like a bow, because his old-world presence has that effect on me. “You did tell me.”
“You could have warned us about the witch though,” Trystan says, turning around to come back for me. He drapes an arm over my shoulders and presses a kiss to my hair, then herds me toward the door before Jihoon has a chance to reply.
“Don’t sass the elders,” I chastise him as we pass through the large door into the golden light of the afternoon.
He just chuckles, and we walk side by side away from the meeting house, making the short walk to Elder Jihoon’s home.
The last time I was inside the elder’s tiny, cramped shack, it was heavy with the scent of incense, and I ended up racing from the room in a panic attack. Luckily, I’ve learned how to balance my emotions better, and panic attacks don’t hit me as often or intensely as they used to. I have a much better handle on them nowadays, which is saying something considering I harbor a wolf and a witch inside me, both of them vying for power.
Once we’re all gathered inside his house, Elder Jihoon opens a cabinet in the corner of his living room and extracts an aged book covered in worn, maroon leather. He brings it to the couch and opens it on the coffee table, paging forward as the five of us draw closer to watch.
“I keep journals,” Elder Jihoon informs us, his dark gaze on the book as he squints at each page in turn. “I’ve kept a record of everything that’s ever happened to me, or to this pack. It is good for finding patterns. Or simply for an old mind to retain the finer details. Ah. Here it is.”
He taps a page with one long, arthritic finger, then rotates the book so that Ridge can read it. “I met a lone wolf once,” Elder Jihoon says, “who knew of a witch with no coven. He didn’t know her name, but rumor said she lived in the Blackrock Basin.”
“The Blackrock Basin isn’t real,” Trystan says, his brow wrinkled as he stares at the journal over Ridge’s shoulder. “It’s a legend used by parents to frighten their kids from going into the mountains alone.”
“Oh, I believe it to be real.” The white-haired shifter purses his lips. “Real and protected by this witch. One of the elder shifters of my day told me the Blackrock Basin can be found past Wolfsbane Mountain, in the deepest wilderness.”
Trystan rolls his eyes. “Wolfsbane Mountain isn’t real either.”
“It is.” Dare speaks up. “Way up north, past the Two-Tone River. Looks like a giant wolf’s head.”
Elder Jihoon inclines his head at Dare in agreement, then turns his gaze to Ridge. “It’s rare for a witch to be covenless, just as it’s rare for a wolf to be packless. I know of no other witches without a coven, except for the one who created Sable. And he’s dead. My hypothesis, given that this witch has no coven, and therefore no allegiances to protect, is that—”
“—she might be able to give us answers,” Archer finishes, nodding slowly. “Or, more to the point, willing to give us answers. I see what you’re saying, Elder. If she’s amenable, she could be the help we need.” Then he grimaces. “But approaching any witch is far too dangerous.”
Ridge nods. “I agree. Just because the witch has no coven, it doesn’t mean she isn’t an enemy of wolves. Attempting to make contact with her is way too risky.”
“Perhaps,” Elder Jihoon says thoughtfully. He scratches at his chin. “Though it is possible that since she broke ties with her coven, she may not hold the same hatred of wolves as the other witches do.”
“I’m not sure those are odds I’m willing to entertain.” Ridge reaches down and closes the journal, as if he’s putting an end to the idea itself.
I’ve watched the exchange in silence, abs
orbing Elder Jihoon’s information with my heart pounding in part excitement, part fear. As the conversation dies out, I stand abruptly and cross my arms, catching Ridge’s gaze.
“We have to try to find her,” I say, my voice sounding stronger than I feel. “She’s my only option at this point.”
He shakes his head, his honey-colored eyes darkening. With his jaw set, he picks up the journal to return it to the cabinet. “No. There are always other options. We just have to keep looking.”
Archer puts a hand on my arm. “Now that things have settled down, we’ll return to our training.”
“No.” I meet his gaze, biting my lip. I appreciate everything Archer has helped me learn. Without his guidance, I wouldn’t know any witch magic. The few spells I’m competent with are because of him. But it’s not enough. “Please, Archer. You can’t deny me the only possible answers out there. This woman is a lifeline I need, and maybe she’ll be willing to help us. If she turns out to be a wolf-hater, we leave. Plain and simple.”
“And if she turns out to be a violent wolf-hater and kills you on sight?” Trystan drawls. The wry tone of his voice can’t hide the palpable fear behind it. “We can’t bring you back from the dead.”
“There’s a chance she won’t hate us,” I point out, tension gathering in my muscles as I search for an argument that will convince them. “At the very least, she’s not affiliated with the coven that’s been starting wars with the shifters for years. She’s a lone wolf, so to speak.” I look at Dare, pleading with my eyes for him to understand and agree with me, hoping the lone wolf statement will spark something in him.
Instead, he grunts and says, “Lone wolves are dangerous.”
Ridge returns from the cabinet. “Look, Sable, we know this situation is tough. But after everything that’s happened, our goal now is to protect you. Seeking this witch is too dangerous, and you’ve been in harm’s way too much recently as it is.”
