by Laken Cane
“I’ll change your bandages after you do,” Basilia told her. “Come, Jewel.”
Despite her good intentions, after she’d eaten a few bites of her breakfast, she was exhausted. She slid the tiny box under the sheets and then fell once again into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When she awakened, she felt much stronger. “Mother,” she said, when Basilia walked in carrying fresh towels and bandages, “you spiked my tea.”
Basilia didn’t deny it. “You needed to sleep, dear. The herbs will heal you faster if you’re sleeping. Also, the pocket will make you feel less sick if you sleep through some of your time here.”
“I know. And you’ve done a wonderful job. My ribs hardly hurt at all and my throat…” She reached up to touch the tender flesh. “It feels almost completely better.”
“I’m so glad.”
Abby frowned at her hand. “What happened to my fingers?”
Basilia’s eyes filled and she held the back of her hand to her mouth. “Your wand, Abby. The broken piece. When you tried to use it, it…backfired. It mangled your fingers.”
“Understandable,” Abby said. “Don’t let it upset you. Broken wands and high emotions are bound to cause trouble.” She paused. “Did you bring the pieces from the spell room?”
“I did not,” Basilia said. “I will burn that treacherous wand.”
“No. It’s my wand and I want it. It’s the best wand I’ve ever had, Mother.”
Basilia’s gaze softened. “Really, Abby? You want it back?”
“Of course. I can put it back together and it’ll be just as perfect as it was before.”
Basilia sent her a pleased smile and then hustled into the bathroom. “I’ll reconnect it for you. Bath or shower, dear?”
“Bath, Mother. With tons of suds and scents.”
“Certainly.”
Basilia placed a small bell on the bench beside the tub. “Ring when you’re ready to get out.”
Abby groaned when she sank down into the warm, sudsy water. It undulated gently, caressing her abused body, cradling her with protective, healing power. The various potions seeped into her pores and scents of vanilla and honey and cinnamon comforted and eased her mind.
She relaxed completely as she floated in the water, and finally, she allowed herself to think of Eli.
The wolf, the alpha.
The man.
He knew her secrets. Knew she’d killed his grandfather.
Knew she was in love with him.
And she honestly had no idea how to deal with any of it.
Especially the part where he said goodbye.
Why, why had she fallen for a wolf?
Mel’s mother had been driven away by the council, by the wolves, and by Eli’s own father…not because she was a mistress and her wolf had been ashamed, but because she wasn’t a wolf.
Even if Eli had thought of Abby as a woman he could love, she’d have to accept the fact that he could never marry her. Never bring her into his pack.
It simply wasn’t allowed.
But she was in love with him, and she, like Mel’s demented, horrible mother, would be cast into the shadows because she could never rule at Eli’s side.
She could never be good enough.
And she did not want to be just another scorned woman cast aside by a man who could not accept her.
There wasn’t anything worse, not to her.
She did not want to be her mother, or Mel’s mother, or Acadia Desrochers. She did not want to be.
She hadn’t had anyone to love, but she’d had the hope. She’d had the dream of someone to love. But she’d fallen for a wolf.
A wolf who could never be hers.
It was devastating.
And she didn’t know what she would do.
Didn’t know what could be done.
She sobbed. Not even her peaceful, soothing bath filled with spells and herbs was enough to heal her aching heart and bleak thoughts.
The curse and her horrific face had not been able to crush her. But that had been before the wolf.
She wanted him.
Wanted love.
Wanted something normal.
And that just wasn’t ever going to happen.
So she broke down in her bath. She gave herself permission to mourn, to cry, to rage. To feel sorry for herself.
And afterward, she dried herself off, then bandaged the stab wound, her eyes swollen but dry. She straightened her spine and stared at herself in the little mirror, and she smiled.
Yeah, the smile might have been a little weak and fake, but that didn’t matter. She’d be okay. She was not her mother, and she would not fade away as she waited hopefully for her man to return to her.
She was not the demon witch, and she would not allow her heart to turn black and full of vengeance simply because the man she wanted did not want her back.
And she was certainly not Mel’s mother, beaten and chased off like a rabid dog, raising a child in bitter hatred.
No. She was Abby the witch and she was going to live her life. So she stared at her face in the mirror, and she smiled.
She would take what she wanted.
“I’m a warrior,” she murmured. “I’m not my fucking face.”
She would never again hide behind her hair. She would never again wear a mask.
Why should she live in shame and guilt because other people didn’t like what she looked like?
She shouldn’t.
She wouldn’t.
It was their problem. Not hers.
She was a warrior.
She was not weak.
“Mother,” she called, striding from the bathroom.
“You need me?” Basilia called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Always,” Abby promised. “But it’s time for me to go home.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
The animals—especially Sadie and Elmer—were ecstatic when she returned from the pocket.
“Babies,” she cried. She sank to the ground and wrapped her arms around the two dogs, laughing as they drowned her in unconditional, slobbery love.
Smoke still hung in the air and despondency lay like a heavy, hopeless blanket over Waifwater. She could feel it.
But she was going to make it all better.
She changed clothes, tied her long, wild hair back in a ponytail, and went to the broom closet. “Who wants to go out?” she asked the brooms.
She chose Cinnamon, a cheerful, happy, uncomplicated little broom. “Let’s go visit the wolves,” she said.
After the broomstick attached, she hovered in the air and gave a loud whistle. “Sadie, Elmer. Let’s go!”
They followed from below, their excited voices making her smile.
Her repaired obedient wand rested in the sling over her chest, the discharged talisman hung in a silk bag around her neck, and all was right with her world.
Or soon would be.
When she glanced down she saw occasional fires dotting the side of the road, and dark lumps she was sure were as yet uncollected bodies.
Waifwater would recover.
And she would never give out another dangerous spell.
It was over.
Most of the wolves were not in the village but were, according to a young man minding the babies, out repairing the world.
Eli and Mel were with the council.
He would not say where that particular meeting was being held, but did inform her that Eli might not come back for hours. Or days.
“I’ll wait,” she told him, and she settled with Cinnamon and the dogs on the front porch to watch for Eli’s return.
After three hours, she was too restless to sit still any longer. “Tell your alpha to come see me the second he gets back,” she told the sitter.
She wasn’t about to leave the talisman there.
Though she hadn’t been aware she was going to, she took a detour into town on her way home. Waifwater was somber and grim, and the only people out seemed to be walking in ai
mless confusion.
Two minutes before she arrived at the sheriff’s office, a fight broke out in the street between two angry men with, it appeared, knives holstered all over their bodies.
“I took away all the guns,” Wade said, wearily, when she walked into his office, Sadie and Elmer at her heels, and told him about the fight. “Now they just try to kill each other with knives and whatever else they can get their hands on.” He ran his hand over his face. “What are you doing here, Abby?”
“I wanted to see if there’s anything I can do to help.”
“You’ve done enough,” a deputy said, walking into Wade’s office. He slapped a file down on his boss’s desk. “Taking lunch, Wade. You want anything?”
Wade sighed. “Pick me up a sandwich and some fries.”
“You look tired,” Abby said.
“Gosh,” the angry deputy said, stomping back toward the doorway. “Wonder why he looks tired?”
Wade shrugged when she looked at him. “Everybody’s angry, Abby.”
She stood. “It’ll get back to normal soon, Sheriff. I swear it.”
“How do you know?” he asked.
“I have the talisman,” she told him. “I’m just waiting for Eli to come claim it.”
“Fuck me,” he blurted. “You serious?”
She nodded. “I’m going home to wait for him. I left word he should see me as soon as the council is finished with him.” She walked to the door, then paused. “Do you know how to get a message to him?”
“No. I have no idea where the council is.” He stood and walked with her to the door, a bounce in his step. “That is great news, Abby.”
She smiled. “Hang in there, Wade.”
He nodded. “There’s hope. I can hang on.”
She smiled all the way home.
She was too restless to sit still, so she cleaned her house, made a fresh batch of muffins, and then started a new broomstick.
But Eli didn’t appear.
When she finally went to bed, she slipped the talisman under her pillow, terrified that something would happen to it before the alpha arrived.
It was four in the morning before the sound of tires crunching over gravel woke her. The dogs didn’t sound the alarm.
“Eli,” she said.
She was waiting at the door before he had a chance to knock. She watched him walking toward her, his stride tired, and his face, when he finally stood in the circle cast by the porchlight, lined with exhaustion.
But he’d shifted, and his body was healing.
He stared up at her. “How are you?”
She slid her fingers to her still bruised throat, drawing his glance. His eyes immediately lit with rage.
“I’m fine, alpha,” she said, her voice thick. “I’m so glad to see you.”
So very glad.
“I came as soon as I heard you were back. Did something happen?”
She stepped back. “Yes. Come in.”
He followed her into the living room. “Your mother is okay?” he asked.
The fine hairs lifted on the back of her neck at his deep, quiet voice. She turned to face him. “Eli.”
He frowned. “What is it?”
She pulled the tiny coffin from her pocket. “This.”
He took it, and the second before he opened it, he understood what it was. “God,” he whispered. “Abby.”
“Your talisman,” she said, because she wanted to say the words.
He pulled it from the box, lifted it to his lips, and let the coffin fall to the floor. He didn’t speak.
“Charge it, alpha,” she pleaded. “Can you?”
“I have to get it to my pack,” he murmured. “I need to charge it in their presence.” He strode from the room, new purpose and energy in his step.
He reappeared in seconds. “I’ll be back tonight.”
She put her hand to her heart. “Why?”
“Why?” He laughed, softly. “Oh, Abby. For so many reasons.”
And then he was gone.
Gone to charge the talisman. Gone to make everything right.
And he was coming back.
“Oh hell,” she muttered. “It’s not easy not to love this wolf.”
Then she remembered the spell. “Shit,” she yelled. She’d wait until dawn for her mother to awaken, and then she’d ask her if she’d reversed the spell. Just in case.
Just in case the alpha kissed her.
Maybe he would.
Or maybe she’d kiss him.
“A kiss goodbye,” she told herself. Because she couldn’t stand more than that. She couldn’t make love to him and then watch him leave forever.
Better not to know what his body felt like on top of hers. Inside hers.
She shuddered and went to put on the coffee. No way was she falling back to sleep. Not with the sound of the alpha’s promise ringing in her ears.
He was coming back.
And she couldn’t feel anything but good about that.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Go ahead.”
“Mother, I have a question,” she said, once Basilia opened the door.
Basilia’s narrowed gaze roved her face. “You’re okay?”
Abby nodded. “Did you reverse the spell?”
“Of course. Immediately. It’s done, dear. If the alpha loves you, it won’t be because of a spell.”
“Good. How are you and Jewel?”
“We’re fine, sweetheart.”
“Me, too.”
Basilia smirked. “I can tell. You saw the alpha.”
“I saw him and gave him the talisman, and then he went away.” Abby put her nose in the air. “End of story.”
“Uh huh.”
“Goodbye, Mother.”
“Goodbye, dear.”
And she called, just before she shut the door, “Have fun!”
Abby snorted.
She knew the exact moment the alpha charged the talisman. She’d gone outside to tend the herb garden she’d been neglecting, when she heard a boom in the distance. She turned toward it, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun, and the light changed.
She hadn’t even been aware of how different it’d been until it changed. It became brighter. More vivid.
It even smelled sweeter.
She took a deep, deep breath, and tears sprang to her eyes.
Waifwater was safe.
The talisman was charged.
They could all breathe again.
She was tempted to ride into town, but she didn’t. She knew what she’d have seen.
People shuffling from their homes and looking around, slightly dazed, as they felt a difference in their world.
The wolves would stop fighting, and the bad luck would turn.
Those who sought to infiltrate the town would find themselves once again unable to. Waifwater was safe.
The pack was safe.
She got a call as she was washing up from her garden.
“Ms. Cameron?”
“Yes.”
“I’d like to make an appointment for a reading.”
Abby smiled. “Tomorrow at midnight.”
“I’ll be there.”
She’d missed her clients.
The night seemed to sneak in, quiet and full of secrets.
When he knocked on her door, she hesitated, unsure.
“Let me in, Abby,” he said.
She leaned her forehead against the door. “I don’t want to.”
“Abby. Open the door.”
She thought she heard a smile in his voice, but for the life of her, she couldn’t think of anything funny.
“No,” she whispered, and opened the door.
And then, she backed away.
He slipped through the doorway, and she could see the difference in him. The talisman’s darkness had affected him, not the same way it had affected everyone else. Even more.
He’d felt its absence in a way no one else could have.
But the alpha was back.
>
“Just ask me,” she said. “Get it over with.”
He frowned. “Ask you what?”
“About your grandfather.” Her voice broke before she got the words out and she couldn’t look at him.
“Abby.”
He waited until she finally glanced up at him. “William Dean raped two little girls. I’ll spend the rest of my life begging you to forgive me for being related to the bastard. I’m not glad you killed him because…” His jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth. “No child should have to kill another person. But if he were alive today, I swear to you I’d kill him myself for what he did to you.”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t say a word.
“How could you think I’d be angry with you over that, Abby?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, confused. “He was your grandfather. You loved him.”
He blew out a hard breath and ran his hand over his face. “I wish he hadn’t died. I wish he were alive so I could face him. So I could beat the fuck out of him. That’s all I can say. He doesn’t belong here with us, Abby.”
She nodded, and even as relief spread through her, she heard the sound of a door closing in her mind. The past was gone. William Dean didn’t deserve another thought. “I’ll never mention him again.”
“Take me to your spell room,” he said. “I want the moon tonight.”
She shivered as his voice seemed to slink into her head. Her body.
She swallowed hard, then turned and led him into her spell room.
Once inside, he threw back his head and inhaled, his chest expanding as he drew in the pure spell room air. He stared up at the moon for the longest time.
And then, he looked at her.
She stood where she was, almost shy, a little scared.
She couldn’t move.
Eli stalked her, his limbs loose, his amber stare as wild as the wolf he was.
She was afraid to breathe. “Eli,” she whispered. “I don’t want…”
But oh God, she did want. So very badly.
He knew it.
He halted a few feet from her and not once did he look away from her face. “Come here.”
His voice, rich and deep and so very smooth, wrapped around her brain, her heart, her body.
She shivered. “Alpha. I…”
He didn’t move. “Come here, Abby.”
