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Bronywyn
Before me, dozens of supernaturals sit on iron chairs, seated around iron tables that look like they belong at some kind of wealthy tea party. Beside me, the woman who birthed me stands stoic, her back straight, a warm smile aimed at her constituents.
It is taking everything in me to remain here when all I want to do is run away and pretend I never saw her.
“Everyone, the lovely Bronywyn Walsh is here to discuss her position with the councils. I urge you all to pay very close attention to what she has to say.”
Bronywyn Walsh. Not daughter, just Bronywyn. It hurts more than I care to admit, but I clear my throat anyway and hope like hell I don’t start crying. “First off, I want to thank you all for allowing me to come tonight. Bellamy has told me how cautious you all are, and I more than appreciate the opportunity.”
No one says anything, so I continue to scan the room, trying like hell not to recall the last time I stood in front of supernaturals and addressed them in hopes they’d help me. At least, this time, Chasin is dead, and so far, no one looks like they want to kill me—yet.
“As you already know, my friends and I are under attack from the councils, but I want to give you a bit of backstory so you can understand the why of it and the reason we are choosing to stand and fight, rather than run.” I purposely avoid the word hide because the last thing I want is for anyone here to think I’m judging them. Even though, to be honest, I kind of am. “Nearly a year ago, a man I’ve known for the better part of four centuries brought a bleeding hunter into my clinic. Rainey Astor was dying due to a toxin that had been embedded into her body using bullets shot by a human woman. The human woman had been hired by a council member that we now believe was working directly for Odette, the head of the councils, now.” I glance over at my mother, looking for any kind of reaction. After all, Odette is the one who killed her.
Instead of the anger, fear, betrayal, or even discomfort that I expected, she appears completely neutral. “I’ll spare you most of the details, but the cliff notes of this particular story are that the original witch, Heather, used Rainey, manipulated her, and eventually took over her body and committed atrocious crimes while pretending to be the hunter. Crimes that resulted in the deaths of witches, and of Rainey’s own human partner and his wife.”
Murmurs now. Whispered words and shocked expressions on the faces of those before me tell me what I already suspected—that a lot of what actually happened remained in the shadows.
“The council is charging Rainey with all of those murders.”
“But she is innocent!” someone calls out.
“Yes, she is. But the council has deemed her a danger to them and is seeking to eliminate her.” I clear my throat. “Fast forward a few months, and Delaney Astor, who has since come back from the dead…” I trail off as their shock turns into complete and total bewilderment. An emotion that is completely understandable. After all, believe it or not, coming back from the dead is not something that typically happens in our world.
Not that our recent track records would allude to that truth. Especially given the woman standing beside me.
“She was being hunted by Heather’s daughter, Lucy, who murdered my sister,” I glance at my mother, still seeing no expression. “She targeted Delaney because the Astor soul-jumped into the body of my sister—who had been cursed to be reborn after every time Lucy tracked her down and killed her.”
Emotion replaces the once stoic expressions of everyone before me. It’s a wild story I weave for them now. I know it. They know it. And it’s up to them to decide if they want to choose to see it as the truth it is. A tear rolls down my cheek, so I quickly wipe it away.
“Lucy sent dark witches after Rainey’s mate—Elijah Hawthorne.” A few men in the back—vampires by the looks of them—straighten in their seats. “I’m assuming most of you know of him. He was a vampire, but after Heather forced him to take a supernatural cure, he was turned into a hunter. Something that was only possible because of his blood bond to Rainey. A bond the councils want to erase from history because it tarnishes what they believe to be the only truth. But I’ll get to that in a minute.” Feeling a bit more confident now, I straighten and begin to pace.
“I managed to save him by pulling the dark magic from his body, but in doing so, I inadvertently poisoned myself with it.”
“You don’t look dark to me!” a woman calls out.
“That’s only because Rainey pumped me full of silver bullets, and two fae ripped the magic from my body.” I glance back at my mother.
“It is possible,” she addresses the crowd. “Unbelievably painful, but possible.”
“A councilman attacked me, chained me in a basement, and attempted to beat the magic out of me.”
They gasp. “I was punched, kicked, stabbed, and threatened. After my friends managed to save me from the shadow magic—a rogue soul as it turns out—the council sent a summons to each and every one of us. Me, Tarnley—who runs a supernatural pub, Elijah Hawthorne, Rainey Astor, Delaney Astor, Cole Miller—a shifter and the once beta for Josiah Akacheta, and the late pack leader’s daughter, Willa Akacheta.”
“Why Willa?” someone calls out.
“Because of her relationship with Jack Keller, a hunter.”
“When we attended our summons, we were not met with a trial. Instead, they embedded silver beneath our skin, locked us up, and experimented on us.”
“Fuck.” Bella shakes her head.
“They wanted to prove what they always believed to be true about the bonds. The very reason for that particular clause in The Accords.”And now for the gut punch.“As it turns out, a mated witch’s blood has the power to completely heal her bonded from any injury—even silver inflicted. They embedded silver beneath the wrist of my mate—a vampire—and ripped his throat out. The moment my blood touched his lips, he was healed.”
They gasp.
Murmur.
Stare at each other.
