Page 68 of The Coven

It shouldn’t have infuriated me that she pressed her knife into her open wound, peeling off any dried blood that had slowed the flow. I might have healed her from the attack the night before, but I’d also fed from her.

More than I should have, if I were being honest.

“A few hours at most,” I answered.

Willow stumbled over a tree root as she dripped her blood upon the ground, her lips moving in the faintest hint of a spell as she moved. The plants behind her blossomed, fresh greenery sprouting and flowers blooming in a wave of life. She stopped, tucking her knife into the sheath she’d strapped to her thigh at some point after leaving me an hour ago. Kneeling at the side of the walkway, she held out her palm and allowed a small pool of blood to gather in it.

I watched as the plants swayed toward her, a single leaf touching the surface of the blood as it drank. She ran a delicate finger over the rosebud that bloomed as she watched, and the irony of the moment wasn’t lost on me.

Willow was the last of the Hecate witches—the intended keeper of the bones and a necromancer of great power if she could find them. Butlifefollowed her everywhere she went, drawn to her in a way I couldn’t remember any of the previous Madizzas inciting.

“It’s fascinating, really. Watching the way she interacts with the plants,” Kairos observed, his head tipping to the side. I growled, turning my attention away from my witchling to give the Vessel a warning even he couldn’t ignore. He rolled his eyes. “Not like that. She’s life, but she’s also death. There’s never been a witch like her. The things she’s capable of…”

He swallowed, and I realized the man wouldn’t underestimate Willow. The fear he held for her was healthy, his eyes widening when Willow raised a hand, and the rosebush grew taller. The vines extended, lengthening as the plant shot toward the building and climbed up an abandoned trellis. Willow stood, raising her stare to the window where we watched her as those roses came to a stop just below the windowsill.

Point taken.

I turned away from the window, guiding Kairos to give her the distance she required. She could have her privacy for now.

It would take time for Willow to come to terms with what we were to one another, for the depths of the obsession she’d only intensified by giving me her virginity. By the time she understood, it would be too late for her.

“Someone hurt her last night. I expect Juliet will have an answer for me when I return,” I said, accepting his nod as affirmation. Willow might not be willing to condemn those who had done it.

But I certainly fucking would.

33

WILLOW

Gray stepped away from the window finally, giving me a reprieve from the feeling of his eyes on me. I’d come out to the gardens to be alone for a few moments, to sink myself into the only thing that made sense to me.

Nature was constant. It ebbed and flowed, but the force of it always lingered in the earth, waiting for something to draw it to the surface.

Waiting for someone to love it so it could meet its full potential.

The rose bush dipped a stem into the dirt, a single leaf forming a cup as it scooped up a bit of dirt. Raising it to my hand, it dropped the dirt into my open palm and let it heal the wound I’d created to give them new life.

“Bene facis,” I murmured, running the tip of my pointer finger over the sharp edge of the leaflet.

I rose to my feet, smiling as I backed away from the portion of the garden I’d already brought back. I wouldn’t allow Susannah’s machinations to pollute the earth to continue. I’d do whatever I could to preserve that which was truly innocent in her crimes. I walked through the gardens, losing track of time as I allowed my thoughts to wander. I didn’t know what last night meant for the future of my duty, if I would be able to find the bones if Gray helped me as he said he would.

And what if he did? Would I turn around and Unmake him after?

I stared toward the school, swaying toward the stones of the building and running my fingers over the abrasive surface. There was evil and corruption within those walls. That couldn’t be denied.

But there was also Della, with the kindness and compassion she’d shown me when I’d lost my shit the night of the Reaping. She’d been far more patient than she needed to be, never pressing me for more information to appease her curiosity.

She’d been a friend when I needed one the most.

There was Iban, with his quiet steadfastness and flirtation. Iban, who was so determined to find the love of his life that he’d given up a huge part of who he was.

Margot, who had suffered and didn’t like to be touched, but no one had ever taught her that just because her magic was rooted in desire didn’t mean she had to participate in it.

There was corruption, but there were also decent people who didn’t know any better or understand the consequences the Coven would cause.

My neck prickled, forcing me to spin back to face the path. The hair on my arms rose, alerting me to something approaching that I didn’t understand. I’d never had those senses before coming to Crystal Hollow.

I’d never felt things coming or seen the past in my dreams. I wondered if it was the proximity to the bones, if even them being somewhere closer was enough to bring my abilities to the surface to some extent.

---