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“We shall leave you to enjoy the rest of the party. You know how to contact us if you need us.” She smiles and dips her head, the group leaving without another word.
I shake my head slightly, bemused and troubled by the whole encounter. There’s a faint popping in my ear and sound returns. That whole conversation was baffling, and I need to talk to my mates about it.
I step forward to join them, but a shape moves in the shadows. I only just notice when Ivar appears beside me, walking from the darkness. “Wordsmiths are very rare, almost as rare as you,” he comments lightly, his black eyes locked on my face.
“Holy goddess, Ivar,” I swear, pressing my hand to my chest, my heart pounding against my rib cage from being startled by the dark witch. “One of these days, you’re going to give me a heart attack.” I sound breathless, but I can’t find it in me to care. If it were anyone else, I might try to hide it and pretend I’m fine. However, there’s no point in that with Ivar, as he’ll be able to see straight through that.
His smile dims a little, and he mimics my movement, pressing his hand to his chest. “My apologies. The nature of my magic can make me a little… unpredictable.”
He’s not kidding. He always seems to creep up on me, and until now I would have said that he did it on purpose, but seeing his concern makes me believe otherwise. Ivar’s magic is like nothing I’ve ever seen, and I don’t pretend to understand it.
My mates watch on with narrowed eyes, but they don’t step in. They know about my strange friendship with the dark witch, and although they dislike him and don’t understand why I speak with him, they don’t try to stop me. Considering what we’ve been through today, I’m actually surprised with how much freedom they are giving me. I know we’re trying to show a strong front while all eyes are on us, yet this is more than I expected.
Not knowing how to respond to his comment, I tilt my head to one side, letting a tiny smile pull at my lips. “Are you going to explain what a wordsmith actually is?”
His responding smile is bright, a juxtaposition to the darkness he literally carries around with him. “Of course. It is a witch that has been gifted with the ability to imbed magic into certain words. They are highly sought after.”
After what I just saw, I assumed something like this was the case. “I can see why,” I reply with a raised brow, taking in the possibilities. Something slowly occurs to me. Ivar knew I was speaking about a wordsmith, yet he shouldn’t have been able to hear what was being said thanks to the magic shield that covered us. Snorting, I shake my head slightly. “I take it you were able to hear that whole conversation?”
He smiles and tilts his head to one side. “One of my many gifts. Magic such as sound shields doesn’t work on shadows, so when I become one with the shadows, I am able to hear the conversation others cannot.”
My gut tightens. This could cause us a lot of issues if he decided to tell the queen what he overheard. I might not have had anything to do with the group, but I doubt the queen would see it that way when she hears what the witches, her people, were saying about her.
“Are you going to report it to the queen?”
Ivar is totally loyal to her, and to withhold this sort of information goes against what he believes. However, his expression becomes troubled. Most wouldn’t notice the change of emotions he experiences, mostly because they won’t meet his eyes, but also because the changes are minor. However, I’ve been getting to know the witch and can recognise the shift in his moods.
“The queen has been acting… dangerously recently. Telling her will only make her act out.” He seems a little uncertain as he speaks, but something about saying the words out loud seems to help him make his decision. “I will follow my queen until the afterlife, but I also act in her best interests.”
“You know that I don’t want a fight with the queen.” Of course he knows this, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation, yet I feel the need to clarify anyway.
“I do. That’s why I like you.”
I expect to see his large, wide smile and eyes as dark as the void staring back at me, but what I actually see is his sombre expression.
A shadow appears at my shoulder, and Ivar’s head turns as he looks at the newcomer behind me. Even without my werewolf senses picking up his scent, I’d know it was Syn from the pull of the bond in my chest.
His arms wrap around me, pulling my back against his chest as he rests his chin on top of my head.
“Laelia, is this witch bothering you?”
ChapterSix
“Laelia, is this witch bothering you?”
Syn’s words roll over me as he holds me close, his scent wrapping around me. He’s always been territorial and possessive over me, even when he hated me back in the beginning. As an alpha without a pack, he was always toeing the edge of madness, and then bonding with me and being separated only made that ten times worse. My mates agreed to be protective, but not over the top, allowing me to make my own decisions at the party. However, being surrounded by enemies has taken its toll on Syn, and he’s lost the battle of holding himself back.
Placing my hand on his arm, I send him a wave of peace through the connection, wanting to defuse the situation. I clear my throat so I can introduce them. Tilting my head up, I meet his eyes and smile slightly so he can see I’m not stressed or upset by the witch’s presence. “Syn, this is my friend, Ivar.” Turning to the witch, I gesture between them. “Ivar, this is one of my mates, Alpha Syn.”
Smiling widely, Ivar presses a hand against his breastbone and dips his head in greeting. “Brother, it’s good to finally meet you.”
Growling, Syn tightens his hold on me and drags me back a couple of steps. “I’m not your brother,witch.”
Gasping, I frown and look up at him. I will admit that Ivar looks a little creepier when he smiles, but Syn’s reaction is far more extreme than I would have thought. Why would being called “brother” cause such a violent reaction? I remember Ivar having mentioned Syn in conversation before and his ability to use shadows to blend in with his surroundings. He wanted to meet my mate to discuss his power, and it seems he got his wish.
Thankfully, he doesn’t seem offended by Syn’s reaction to him, and he tilts his head to one side, seeming amused. “Not in the traditional sense, no. However, your dark magic originates from the same place as mine. Can you not feel the call?”
Releasing me, Syn takes another step back, trying to put as much distance between the two of them as possible. I expected him to become angrier at the comment about magic, yet if anything, it’s only making him panic. Did he have these thoughts about himself before?
