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Chapter twenty-seven
‘Breathe Again’ Pop Evil
JAZ MONROE
It’s been a couple of days since it all went to shit the night of the party. I got blindsided with a bitch Witch and her hex, beat the shit out of a helpless woman, and Zatrina ran away. Good. Fuckin’. Times.
My sister running off was the worst part of it all. I guess everyone was right, she wasn’t meant to be trusted. Of course, that’s what I keep telling myself, but this fear and ache in my chest leads me to feel otherwise.
What if she didn’t run, what if she was taken?
Roman said there’s no way anyone could have gotten in though. No way someone could have slipped past the extra guards and boundary wards… but who the hell knows? Atticus hasn’t taken it well. He’s been walking around muttering‘betrayer’and‘I should have fucking known’.At first, he believed she was taken, but there was no forced entry nor was there evidence of a fight. He tore the place apart in his rage, and no one speaks to him if they can avoid it at all. He’s hostile to anyone and he won’t look at me. I guess I look too much like her.
For now, to spare myself of the turbulent thoughts and whiplash of emotions, I’m focusing on today.
Or at least I’m trying to.Fucking sigh.
I was supposed to be formally introduced to the entire pack the other night, get to know everyone and vice versa, but it’s safe to say that was a horrible first impression. I’ve been cooped up in Roman’s room since then, mentally and emotionally drained from all the drama, but tonight, I’m taking the advice I gave to my sister...Fucking sigh again.
I swear, my lungs are going to collapse with how much I’ve been sighing lately.
Anyway, I’m going to show everyone here that I’m not a wild beast who is looking to bring trouble to their homes, or their families.
You may be saying,but Jaz, that’s exactly what you did,and you’d be right. But I am not going to just let it sit that way. I’m going to fix this shit with the Dark Bloods and make sure that all these people are safe.
Home.
Pack.
Mine.
My wolf rumbles inside me, reaffirming that Cutthroat is where we belong, and we’ll do everything it takes to show these people we are part of them.
The past couple of days, Roman and his brothers have gone down to the onyx cell to question the Witch. They’ve recreated more of the concoction Zatrina made to gain the truth from the bitch, and so far, it seems to have worked.
From what Roman has told me, the Witch used to be an older hag who died not long before Sara sought the Coven out. When the Witches saw that she could be easily manipulated, they sent the dead Witch’s spirit into her body. From what Knix was able to figure out, only the True Witch can expel a Witch’s spirit from another’s body.Convoluted,Iknow.
It makes me glad I’m only a Werewolf who is not tangled in the vines of Witch magic. That shit is complicated as all hell.
Anyway, this body snatching hag was their only insider to the pack and getting another one in will be nearly impossible with us in the loop. Turns out, the ancient magic in the Cut brothers, acts as a sort of repellant to dark magic, but it’s a beacon for lost Supernaturals. That’s why they have a pack of exiled and rejected people; the Cut brothers feel like power, home and safety because they are the embodiment of those three things.
Their magic is from the Ancients.
“What are you going to wear tonight?” Knix’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. The tired look in her eyes makes my heart clench. She has been taking on guard watch through the nights these past couple of days and it’s taking a toll on her. She has this determination to protect me at all costs, and it’s starting it really piss me off. Nothing I’ve said can make her drop this whole thing. I get it though. Doesn’t mean I like it at all.
Luckily, Knox has put an end to it this morning with poppy dust. It basically knocked her out for a few hours.
“Uh, this,” I gesture down to my all-black ensemble; scuffed up combat boots, high waist cutoff shorts with a studded leather belt, my favoriteDog Day Afternooncrop top, and an asymmetrical boho lace vest that reaches the back of my thighs. Bohemian chic and so me.
“Good, no need to impress anyone,” She dodges the pillow I throw at her. “Kidding! You look really good; country gothic is your style. I love it. Are you ready to face everyone?”
Her smile disappears with that question, as does mine. I’ve heard recently that there’s only a very small portion of pack members who still have doubts about me. Watching me beat an unarmed woman to near death has really imprinted on their minds. And who can blame them? If I’m being honest here, I’d be worried if they just threw their trust at me without questioning anything.
So, tonight is me getting a redo on the whole introduction thing only this time, it’s more like a court hearing. We are taking testimonials, witness accounts, and evidence. Hopefully when this small percentage of people see the video of the Witch within Sara’s body recounting her steps to body snatching, they’ll realize that my actions were not completely my own.
I can’t deny though, that my actions were stemmed from a place of my own making. I practically hated Loanie and quite literally could not stand her, so the spell only heightened what was already there. It turned my emotions into actions, and it was like watching a train wreck.
I sigh heavily and drop down onto the mattress next to my friend, tucking my blades into my boots, “Whatever the outcome is tonight, I truly hope this pack comes to understand and believe that I would never lay a hand on anyone without provocation or an order from the Alphas.”
