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“Are you sure?” asked Brigid, frowning and shooting a wary glance at Cerridwen. “You’re grieving, and—”
“Please,” I interrupted. “Please I just…” I paused, trying to figure out how to communicate what I wanted. “I have to know ifherswas the death in the cards.”
Brigid and Cerridwen exchanged another glance, knowing I meant Mama. If Mama’s death had been foretold in the cards, then maybe I could get beyond it. Maybe that would be the only death I had to worry about. Maybe it was fate and not my own stupid fault that I had lost her.
“Alright,” Brigid said, still looking hesitant. “Just remember, Elara, it’s not an exact science.”
She drew the cards from a pocket, shuffling and setting them out on the tiny table before me. All twenty-two, face down with their flowery backing shining brightly in the sun. “Choose,” she instructed, and I knew what she meant as I pointed to three cards in order, one for my past, one for my present, and one for the future. Brigid tidied the rest of the cards away, laying out the three I had chosen.
“Past,” Brigid said, flipping the first card. I was half expecting to see the Hanged Man again, but this card was different. Two figured, completely nude, hands bound and hearts beating together. “The Lovers,” Brigid said, offering me a weak smile. “Maybe for you and Carnon. It represents union and partnership. And, of course, love.”
She moved to the second card. “The present, “ she said, flipping the card to show a tower being struck by lightning. “The Tower. This represents danger or crisis. And change.” Brigid frowned up at me, and Cerridwen looked on intently. “Are you sure you want me to go on?”
“Yes,” I replied, fisting my hands so tightly in my lap that I thought I might break the skin.
“The future,” Brigid intoned, flipping the final card. It was a scale, balanced at both ends, the image of the Triple Goddess and the Horned God carved at its base. I didn’t need to see Brigid’s smile of relief, or Cerridwen’s wicked grin, or the name engraved at the bottom of that card to know what it meant.
Justice.
Epilogue
Carnon
My mate had become a force of nature, and I reveled in it.
For weeks she had done nothing but train her magic and her body, working every day with me or with Cerridwen or, interestingly, with Herne. She channeled her grief into sparring and into mastering her gods-blessed magic, and she had also taken on the challenge of practicing casting her witch magic without elements. Our powers had grown with our mating, and there was little, it seemed, that she couldn’t do.
Akela and Artemis stood watch the whole time, sometimes providing commentary through our bond in the way of images and feelings. Artemis had fully healed, and she had showered Elara in feathery affection as soon as she was able to move.
I also wondered at Elara’s growing bond with Akela, sometimes catching her shooting the wolf a smile or a raised brow over some feeling sent through their own bond.
Elara cast the binding spell for the third time without words or altar, making Lucifer, her unwilling volunteer, roll his eyes as she smirked in victory. Her magic was stronger, faster, and more noble as she learned to wield it with greater precision. I laughed, earning a rare smile. Rare nowadays, at least.
I sighed a little wistfully. I was proud of her beyond measure, but…I missed her. She fell into bed each night utterly exhausted, physically present but emotionally drained. We both knew her training was a way to push aside that guilt and grief that, deep down, was still consuming her. Litha had passed, and Lughnasadh was fast approaching, but that spark of joy and fire in her that I had fallen in love with had still not returned. It killed me a little to watch it, unable to help her break past that well of darkness.
Today, I planned to push her a little, determined to bridge that chasm.
“New challenge today, Red,” I said, throwing her a water skin so she could slake her thirst. Lucifer slid his eyes to me, desperate to be excused. I nodded and he practically ran. “Today I want you to channel fire.”
She paused, looking up at me with a raised brow and flicking her copper braid back over her shoulder.
“Fire?” she asked.
I nodded, letting the smirk shine through as she tensed. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it. Had refused to acknowledge the furious fire that had exploded from her in the Crone’s manor. Refused to explore the powers of sight that, if Cerridwen’s descriptions of Brigid’s tarot readings were to be believed, she was beginning to exhibit.
I knew why she avoided it. A part of her blamed her father, I think, for leaving her mother in the Witchlands. Alaunus had been a good male, and I couldn’t imagine that he had left her mother, his mate, behind willingly. More likely she had been unable to pass through the wards, and they had agreed to stay separate. I had an inkling that the witch mirror Elara had found in storage had been theirs. A way to see each other across those wards. See, but not touch.
It made sense, especially since Elarawasable to traverse them. Both in person and then through the mirror, she had traveled between our lands. Only one with the blood of the Demon King could have done it.
“No,” she said, shaking her head and straightening, prepared to fight me on it. I grinned. A fight was exactly what I wanted from her. She had been almost a ghost all this time, since the moment we had returned without her mother, unable to joke or tease or argue. If anger could crack that shell of grief she had encased herself in, I would latch onto it with both hands.
“Yes, Elara,” I purred, stepping close to her and grinning at her wickedly. “Or are you too afraid? Are you too frightened of the witches who patrol our borders and threaten our lands?”
Herne had been monitoring the situation, more witches every day poking and prodding at our wards. It was making me nervous.
Elara’s eyes flashed, anger rising. It was a dangerous game, provoking her like this. But I was desperate to get her back. Her vibrancy. Her fury. Her fire and light. All had been dimmed by her loss, and I missed her so fucking much it hurt. She slept beside me, but she wasn’t really there, and I hadn’t pushed anything for fear of breaking her. Hurting her. But I was done waiting.
“You want vengeance,” I rumbled. “You want justice. You want revenge, Red. Let that fire burn inside you. Let your rage burn, and come back to me.”
