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Then I recall the words Clint spoke before he died, and my voice dies out on a whisper.
You better hope she doesn’t find out about you.
I asked him who “she” was, demanded to know, but he didn’t have a chance to respond before he lost consciousness. Or maybe he just decided to take that secret to the grave, one last way to fuck with me.
Could the woman he referenced be the person I’m bound to?
“What should I do?” I ask Gwen, and my voice comes out tight and strained. “I don’t understand what this means. Can you please help me?”
The witch drinks from her mug, a line etched between her brows as she stares at me over the rim. When she sets it back down, she sighs.
“It seems likely that it didn’t bind you to the man you thought was your uncle, although he’s the one who cast the spell. Bonds formed by a third party are never as strong, although given the number of sigils he put on you, he was trying to make it as powerful as possible. Still, there’s a possibility that if that other person doesn’t know about you or the bond, they might not have noticed the link between you.”
I have no idea how Gwen can deduce all of that just by studying the sigils scarred in
to my skin, but I’m suddenly grateful as hell that we managed to reach her cabin. Without speaking to someone who knows magic like she does, my mates and I could’ve spent days or weeks guessing at answers without ever getting closer to the truth.
“I think, first and foremost, we should attempt to find out who this person is,” Gwen says, eyeing me with a look of curious fascination. “If manipulated correctly, the bond will help you do that. You can creep into this person’s mind and get a glimpse of who they are and what they know, and they’ll be none the wiser about your presence.”
Ridge lets out a small whine from the other side of the table, and I voice what I’m pretty sure we’re both thinking. “Are you sure they won’t know I’m there?”
“There are no guarantees. But if you follow my instructions, you should be safe,” Gwen assures me.
By this point, I’m ready to trust her implicitly, but a chorus of low growls rise up as soon as she finishes speaking. The other three wolves stalk forward, teeth bared and hackles raised. Clearly, they’re not on board with the idea.
“We have to try.” I turn to face them, meeting their growls with a plaintive look. “We’re closer than ever to getting answers. We can’t stop now.”
I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that I can’t communicate with them via mind speak when I’m in human form. I have a feeling if I could speak to them right now, all I’d hear would be a cacophony of arguments against this.
Instead, the whole debate plays out almost silently, punctuated only by soft growls as I hold their gazes for a long moment.
Finally, Ridge huffs in a mixture of agreement and frustration. Archer drops to his haunches and whines in agitation while Dare and Trystan continue to stare darkly at Gwen.
To her credit, the witch has barely given them notice. That’s probably a good thing, since if she reacted to their obvious hostility, we could end up back in a fight like the one outside her cabin.
“Okay. What do we do?” I ask, turning back to her once I’m sure the men won’t attack.
“Give me your hands.” Gwen holds out her own hands, palms up.
The wolves all shift a few steps closer, and despite my worry that one of them will take a chunk out of Gwen’s arm, I’m grateful for their protective presence.
I place my hands in Gwen’s and scoot to the edge of my seat, my heart racing.
“What I’m going to do is use just a little of my own magic to put you in a trance,” the witch explains. “Don’t be frightened. You’ll be the one manipulating the bond, not me. All my magic will do is give you a push to a mental plane where you can travel through the link and into this other person’s mind. Do you understand?”
I nod and attempt to project to my mates that I’m confident and unconcerned, even as my fear bubbles beneath my skin along with my magic.
“I’ll guide you the whole way.” Gwen’s voice is low and steady. It might even be reassuring if I weren’t so terrified. “Ready?”
At my nod, black smoke begins to rise from her hands, curling up my arms like growing vines. It takes everything in me not to break away from her grip. I’ve been conditioned to fear witch magic ever since I learned it existed, and that’s never been so obvious as it is in this moment. I gave her my full permission to use her magic on me less than a minute ago, but now want to run for the hills.
“Steady,” Gwen murmurs, as if sensing my unease. “Close your eyes.”
I do as she says, entirely focused on the tickle of her magic sinking into my arms. I feel as if she’s reaching into the sigils cut into my skin, merging her magic with the magic that exists inside the bond between me and this nameless, faceless person.
“Deep breath in, deep breath out. Six times.”
Following her instructions, I think of all the times I’ve done breathing exercises to power through my fear and anxiety. I don’t even feel like that girl anymore—the girl who could be completely destroyed by her panic. I’ve stood up to angry shifters. I watched my uncle die. I fought a witch.
