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Mom squeezes my arm. “In time. He’s a good man, Tana, and he will love you well.”
I nod and smile at her because I don’t want her to see that I’m hoping for something I shouldn’t hope for. “I’m sure you’re right.”
Mom leans back in her chair and takes a sip of tea. “What else do you want to know?”
“Why aren’t you concerned about the currents? And why wouldn’t you meet with the old coven about them?”
She sighs and sets down her teacup. “I don’t think you understand how fragile our relationship with the mainland is. It only works because they believe we’re in complete control of the magic we use. It only works because they aren’t afraid of us. And even so, our docks were burned just months ago. The moment they learn there is magic in their waters that can’t be controlled, their attitude toward us will change. And if they’re afraid of us, everything collapses.” She looks at me then. “Everything.”
I think we’re all a little afraid of the things we don’t understand.
“But the old coven wants to help us. Why not let them?”
“A couple of years back, Marshall Yates let his advisors know this union with our family was on the horizon. He insisted on having representatives from the mainland keep watch over the island, and I agreed to it. Thankfully, all your trysts with Wolfe have been in the middle of the night—if they hadn’t been, we’d be having a very different conversation. Now that the wedding is so close, the mainland is packing the island with security staff. And I won’t risk a meeting until they’re gone and I can ensure our discussions will remain private.”
“But it’s been a problem for so long. You’re really willing to let all this damage occur for the sake of the wedding?”
“Tana,” my mother says, leveling me with her gaze, “I remember my mother making me hide as a young girl when people from the mainland would visit. My grandparents almost didn’t have children because they were so worried about what might happen to them. Our ancestors gave up their home on the mainland and practiced a new magic, hoping for a future where we could beaccepted and safe. I’m willing to let just about anything occur for the sake of the wedding.”
The words send a shiver down my spine. “I still don’t understand why you wouldn’t address the issue of the currents earlier, before the wedding was ever certain.”
“If we rely on the old coven to help with the currents, there’s no going back from that. Ever. I respect Galen, but I don’t trust him not to take advantage of that situation. And if he does, I want to make sure the mainland is allied with us, and the only way to ensure that is with the wedding.”
She shifts in her seat and waits until I’m looking at her before she continues. “I’m willing to have these conversations with you, but let me make one thing clear: it doesn’t bother me if you don’t understand. My role as the leader of this coven is to keep us safe and to secure our place in society. It isn’t to make sure my daughter understands every decision I make.” She says it as gently as possible, but it still hurts.
I look away. She’s my mother, but she’s the head of our coven first and foremost, and while it stings to hear her say it, I also admire her for it.
“Okay,” I say, finishing my tea, but then I remember what Wolfe said about the flower. “Wait, there’s one more thing.”
“Go on,” she says.
“How can we practice magic if there is no moonflower on the island?” I know it’s childish of me to phrase it as a question when I already know the answer, but I want to hear her say it. It feels important to me in a way I can’t name to have her trust me withthis. I have put my faith in her my whole life, always believed in the path she laid out for me, and I need to know she trusts me to walk it. I need to.
That question, more than anything else I’ve asked, catches my mother off guard. Her eyes widen and her spine straightens, and I hear the breath she sucks in through her teeth. It unsettles me, seeing her composure slip that way, and I silently tell her it’s okay, assure her that she can trust me.
“Moonflower is poisonous to witches. You know that.”
My heart sinks. “Is it?” I ask, watching her.
“Let’s take a break from the questions for today,” she says. “If I promise you I will have this conversation with you later, will you agree to let it go for now? It’s a very complicated answer with a very complicated history, and I don’t have the time or energy for it right now.”
“We have to come back to it later.”
“You have my word.”
“Okay,” I say. My mother always keeps her promises, and even though she has kept many things from me, I know she’ll have this conversation with me when we have more time. And the truth is, I’m tired.
“Okay?” she asks.
I nod, and she pulls me into a hug. “I’m proud of you,” she says.
I want to ask her why she’s proud when I’ve caused so much stress and pain, but I don’t. Instead, I hug her back and soak up her words, because even though I don’t know if I deserve them, I need to hear them anyway.
“We’re more alike than you think, you know,” my mother says when she pulls away.
“We are?”
She nods. “Your father is the absolute love of my life, but he wasn’t the first boy I ever loved.” She gives me a meaningful look, and my eyes widen.
