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Romy sat with Bastian in the Dusk Garden for the third time that week. Last time, he’d offered comfort, but this time, it was strength. She didn’t want to preside over the High Council meeting, nor did she believe she should have to. There were far better choices for the assignment. If her mother couldn’t attend, fine, but Grandmother still went to the meetings, and she’d been high priestess for many years. Aunt Selene might have been passed over when she was younger, but she was leaps and bounds more qualified to supervise than Romy. Hell, anyone in attendance who’d been to more than one council meeting could lead and probably command more respect. Beyond that, how was Romy supposed to concentrate on Claude Rincewind’s death when her baby sister could be dying too?
After Cassia had told Romy the news, she’d rattled on about the sacred role of the high priestess. How she functions as an agent for The One and The Only. Then she’d spouted some bullshit spiel about how duty came before emotions and the coven came before all.
Fuck. That.
Nothing came before Thora. Absolutely nothing.
So why was she here now, with the entire left portion of her body pressed against Bastian’s right side, preparing to walk the path toTuiteam feòil is fuil?Peer pressure? The fear of disappointing her parents and the coven? Fear of disappointing herself? Or perhaps because deep within, shedidcare about what had happened with Claude Rincewind, if only for his nephew.
Though she wasn’t cold, Romy shivered and inhaled deeply. Sensing her apprehension, Bastian squeezed her hand seven times. She didn’t question what the significance of seven was. As it had been from the beginning of their evanescent interactions, Romy simply knew his soul as if she’d resided within him or him inside her. As if those seven words had knitted them together in a past life.
You are mine, and I am yours.
The breadth of the statement didn’t scare her. Nor did Bastian make her afraid. But she was a witch, and he was a vampire. Whatever was between them was an impossible dream.
You are mine, and I am yours.
How was this happening? To meet someone and realize an inexplicable connection? The odd twist was that while she experienced complete peace with Bastian, the insatiable hunger she’d felt for Silvan had only increased. When she was with Bastian, she didn’t want to indulge in her Silvan fantasies, but being with one man made being with the other all the more appealing. Which was just great because vampires and lycans were mortal enemies. Every stitch of her behavior was prohibited. Forbidden.Wrong.
Do you always do everything your mother tells you?
Silvan’s question might as well have been a dare because any interaction with the two men and Romy wason fire—a desirable, powerful goddess who did exactly as she pleased and abandoned the need to fit in.
Presently, though, her emotions needed to shift to the back burner. She’d need every ounce of fortitude to muddle through this meeting.
Bastian stood, his way of saying it was time. With no instruction, Romy closed her eyes, knowing that when she opened them, she’d be at the entrance ofTuiteam feòil is fuilalone.
Romy ledthe Delacroixs through the fiery circle and into the ruins, thankful for less pomp and circumstance than her first High Council meeting. The blaze had a green hue, which Romy thought was odd, but it was only her second council meeting. How was she to know if the lights changed colors? Or what they meant?
The moment she took Cassia’s seat, she felt the weighted stares of the other preternaturals. Had it not been for the Rincewind Pack’s elevated whoops and jeers dominating the scene, she would have heard their whispers too. The moment Asa realized Romy was standing in as high priestess, an ominous silence fell over the crowd.
And then she heard them all.
Where the fuck is Cassia?
Is this some kind of a sick test? A joke?
It’s a little girl pretending to be the high priestess.
She can’t even do magic yet.
Impostor.
Pretender.
Wannabe witch.
“Everybodyshuttt the fuckkk uppp!” Silvan shouted in a voice so loud the ground seemed to shake. “Fucking A, you degenerates. Don’t want to be here anymore than you do, but the quicker we let the little princess talk, the quicker we get their information on Claude. And then we can get the fuck outta here, aye?”
The pack sounded their rough agreement.
Asa silently fumed at their center.
Romy exhaled a shaky breath, grateful for the intervention. Silvan probably did want to get on with the meeting for the sake of his uncle, but he’d also called her a princess again. Briefly, they locked eyes, and she caught the hint of a smirk.
“Ma’am…” Asa pushed past Silvan with a low snarl. “Forgive my son for his outburst. May I ask where the high priestess is tonight?”
“It’s…” Romy cleared her throat. She looked around for something to steady her, but there wasn’t anything. There wasn’t anyone. “It’s okay. And umm… well…” She froze, unsure of how to begin. Why the hell had her mom done this to her? Did Cassiawanther to make a fool of herself for some reason?
