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Does that mean the Werebitch isn’t simple transference magic?
That it’s not Rafe’s and Drago’s and Jonah’s magic making me more powerful?
I don’t have time to think about it.
“So you were called by the confluence of all the differing magics, right?” I ask.
“Aye.”
“Why don’t you look around then? Are any among us worthy of the culling you mete out? Any of us shining pinnacles of greed?”
The creature focuses behind me, just like I hoped it would.
“She’s a terrible one, isn’t she?”
“Rotten through to her very core,” it says.
“Then when the witches are through taking what’s theirs, take only what’s yours and be on your way. Leave my mate out of this.”
Its rotted lips twist into a smile, and I focus only on the spot in space over its head.
“Tsk tsk. Forest for the trees, dear. You’re so blind to the fact that your mate is brimming with power that doesn’t belong to him. Power he murdered to collect.”
“Power he asked for and was given freely to defeat you. You seem to keep forgetting that fact, don’t you? It’s rather convenient, wouldn’t you say?”
It raises a thin hand. “Enough of this. I am the way of things. There is no talking around my eventuality. My existence. This is how it is to be and how it shall remain, young wolf.”
More nausea, more discomfort, but I have the sense that Emila is almost done. The hooked sensation at my navel lessens.
And lessens.
Until there’s nothing.
No nausea. No tugging.
Only a room suddenly full of panting witches, wiping their brows and slouching in their chairs.
I glance at Emilia, asking without words.
She nods.
Lily confirms with another nod.
“It is done,” the Wendigo says, its voice crawling over me like spider legs and the bony fingers of death.
The witches scatter, getting as far away from the scourge as they can. They form a wall of bodies around Emilia, protecting her, protecting the ancestral knowledge they’d just recovered.
Faster than a vampire blur, the Wendigo charges forward, toppling the chairs around me and snatches a witch out from the group.
I bet you can guess which one.
Belle screams as she and the Wendigo disappear into the midnight sky.
All my guys rush to my side, forming a square around me with Drago in the front.
But I’m not small, squishy omega Willa who can hide behind them. I can see right over Drago’s shoulder.
All of us scan the sky for signs of the scourge.
