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“I see.” I pause before speaking again. “Does she know who you are?”
Galen looks to Wolfe before looking back at me. “It would seem she does not, given your reaction to seeing our home.”
I remember fainting, and my cheeks turn a darker shade of red.
“Sit down, both of you.” Galen motions to a large black couch next to the fireplace. My heart is calm and my breathing is even, and I’m too distracted to figure out what that means.
“Mortana, I’m glad my son met you. And you’re welcome here anytime, but this will get very complicated for you very quickly. Do you understand that?”
“Yes.”
Galen settles in a chair across from us, leaning back. “I’m not worried about your coven learning of our existence—our plans require it. But the timing is something I’m sensitive to.”
“Plans?”
“As witches, we are stewards of this Earth. We are healers. And your coven is killing the only home we have. We will not stand by and let that happen.”
I shift in my seat. “You’re talking about the currents,” I say, and for some reason my voice sounds relieved.
Galen nods. “We’re strong enough to do something about it. But we need your coven’s help, and I suspect your mother won’t like that.”
“I suspect she won’t,” I say. The ocean is everything to me, and even before I missed the rush, the violent currents often occupied my thoughts, filled me with worry. We have to do something about them, and I’ve known for a long time that my mother isn’t doing enough.
I’m glad someone intends to do something about it. Maybe that makes me a traitor.
“I support you in that,” I say, looking at Galen.
“You do?” he asks, raising his brows. Shadows from the fire dance over his face.
“Yes. I won’t tell my mother about your existence until you decide to do it yourself.” I pause and take a deep breath, looking Galen in the eye. “But if you do anything to hurt a single person I care about, I’ll turn the full force of the mainland against you.”
Galen watches me for several moments before a large smile spreads across his face. “I believe you. And you have my word.”
“Good.”
“Well, I’m glad we got that settled, as it seems my son has a hard time staying away from you.”
I look down, but Wolfe levels his dad with an icy stare. “Thanks for that.”
“Anytime, son,” he says, standing. “Mortana, it was a pleasure meeting you.” Galen reaches out his hand, and I stand and take it.
“The pleasure was mine.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again,” he says, and the certainty in his voice, his absolute confidence that I’ll be back, sends a chill down my spine. “Until then, enjoy the ceremony.”
He places a hand on Wolfe’s shoulder and walks out of the study, leaving a million questions in his wake.
twenty-three
“What ceremony?” I turn to Wolfe, my voice urgent. My mind is overwhelming me with images of dark rituals and darker magic, urgent chanting and too-powerful spells, and I’m suddenly terrified of what I’ve walked into. Of what he brought me here for.
“A vow renewal,” he says.
“What kind of vow?” My words are angry, accusatory, and panic tightens my chest.
Wolfe raises an eyebrow, amusement tugging at his mouth. “Marital vows.”
“What?” I ask, the words not making sense. All the fight drains out of me.
