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A flash of red beside her draws my gaze up and I notice the man accompanying her, his bright red hair and beard shining under the club light like flames. He leans casually against the booth, his thumb flicking open the metal lighter, igniting it and snapping it closed. Okay, real fire it is.
“What is the heir to the Hart coven doing in my club?” she asks coolly, eyeing me suspiciously.
“Are witches not allowed in here?” I ask incredulously, cocking a brow in question.
“Oh no, everyone is allowed in. I just figured you might harbor the same feeling towards shifters as your grandmother,” she sneers, her lip curling in a decidedly hostile gesture, which the man seems to chuckle at.
“I don’t,” I snap, Glenda’s words immediately echoing in my mind. “I’m nothing like her.”
“So what is it that you want?” she asks again, her fingers tapping one at a time against her knee.
“Do you not know what’s happened?” I ask her incredulously. I’d at least hoped she’d have some sort of idea about why I might be coming, that someone would’ve told her about Greyson. “About the attack on the academy?”
“That’s monster hunter business. I let my hunters handle that.”
I couldn’t fault her there. Only the witches make the academy their business, and they have basically run it for the last however many centuries.
“Well one of your own was fighting to defend the school and he was taken back to the monster realm,” I snap, for some reason defensively placing some part of the blame on her.
“A wolf?” she asks, her brows furrowing in concern. Some of my anger dissipates at the genuine confusion. I’d heard about her abruptly being put into the position of Alpha after her father’s death and all the attacks they’ve had to fend off from the bears. It does make sense that she hadn’t heard about this yet.
“Yes, and he’s from your pack—Greyson Caine,” I say firmly, and internally cringe at her wince. That news seems to physically pain her, the reaction making me instantly trust her. This is what a leader should be, not willing to sacrifice hundreds of innocent lives to protect a secret.
“And what is he to you?” she asks carefully, her gaze calculating as she scans me.
“He’s my goddess-blessed mate.” I feel like a weight has lifted from my chest at that admission. After what Glenda said today, there’s no hesitation in my mind about being public with my connection to Greyson.
Her face sobers, and she looks up at the man still leaning over her, some sort of silent conversation passing between them.
“Fine. I’ll help you Aria Hart,” she drawls, and turns back to me, her eyes flashing with resolve as she trails a finger over the handle of the knife strapped to her leg. “But I need you to do something for me first.”
Epilogue
Greyson
“Wecan’tkeepthemhere,” a man murmurs as my consciousness begins to drift back in, the sound still muffled as I struggle to focus.
What’s happening?
The last thing I remember was the glaring white light flashing in front of me, and when I shielded my eyes against it an invisible blast knocked me back.
“They did something to us,” another man roars. “I don’t remember anything before the back of my head started bleeding because of that witch.”
Aria.
The last time I saw her she was standing atop the front stairs, the sun beaming down on her, making her look just as much as a goddess as she had before as her power swept out and stopped the monsters’ attack. I wish I knew what she had figured out, but before I could do anything I was knocked back. But if Aria’s in danger...
Panic floods my veins as I attempt to pry open my eyes, but it doesn’t work. My head throbs with the effort, and I bite down on the pain coursing through me, not wanting to give myself away. My eyelids open a fraction, but my vision is so blurry I’m only able to make out faint shapes and colors in the flickering firelight.
“We already told you that she saved us all,” a grey blob growls, stalking towards the red one.
“And I already told you that it all seems too convenient. We all lose our memory and we wake to a witch who apparently saved us and the lifeless bodies of some of our friends littering the ground.”
“We’ll find out who did this to us,” a dark, smoke-shaped figure assures. “But we’re only going to make matters worse if we keep these students.”
“Oh we know who did this,” the red-colored monster—I’m assuming—grinds out. “It’s the hunters. It’s always the hunters, and this time they got their trainees to take us out.”
“Don’t act innocent,” the grey one grunts, a long arm snapping out to grip his throat. “I know just how many times you’ve crossed the rift and what you’ve done there.”
