Page 44 of Freed Wolfsbane

Saint snags my hand and flashes me a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. I appreciate him trying to cheer me up, though. “C’mon, let’s see if Nan’s in her workshop.”

I let him tug me around the neatly manicured shrubs and down the cobblestone driveway to where Nan spends most of her time—or at least she did when I used to live here. Fourteen years is a long time, and things can change a lot in that time. I know I sure did.

When he pushes open the white-painted door, I’m hit with the familiar scent of herbs, burning wood, and Nan’s signature floral perfume. Glancing around the workshop, I spot Nan hunched over a mortar and pestle at the center table. The light spilling in from the arched windows makes her long white hair waving over her shoulders look like a halo.

Hearing us enter, Nan whirls around. Her face lined from a lifetime of laughter and smiles lights up when she spots us. Hopping off her worn wooden stool, Nan rushes over to us with a surprising amount of speed for someone who looks like she’s eighty years old.

When she reaches us, she enfolds me in a warm embrace. I absorb the comfort for a long moment before I reluctantly drop my arms. Nan also gives Saint a lingering hug. She steps back and looks us over with a smile. “What brings you two here? I thought you would still be traveling around trying to find out more about the prophecy. Did you find anything helpful?”

Nan is the only one in Hawthorne Grove we told about our trip to Europe. She’s already mixed up in the prophecy and knows I have to track down answers before it’s too late, so there was no point in keeping her in the dark.

My aunt, uncle, and cousins, on the other hand, don’t know anything about our excursion to the secret library. As far as they’re aware, we just returned to Wolves Hollow after our visit. They don’t know anything about the prophecy, and it’s safer for them if they just stay out of it.

“We might’ve found something, but we’re not sure. We were hoping you might know what it is.” Saint reaches into his jacket and pulls out both his notes and the original list. He hands it to Nan who takes it with a smile.

Her smile drops as she reads the notes. All color drains from her face as she whispers to herself, “No. It can’t be.”

CHAPTER21

SAINT

When Nan shakes herself out of her shock, she whips her head up to look at us. “Where did you get this?” When neither of us says anything, Nan grabs my hand and barks, “Saint. It’s important. I need you to tell me where you found this.”

“We found it in the crypt of an old church in France. Why? What’s wrong?” I’ve never seen Nan this frantic. Her wide eyes are darting around the room like she expects someone to jump out of the shadows to attack us.

“What’s wrong is you have ingredients for a potion that has been outlawed, for good reason, for a thousand years,” she whispers.

“What does it do?” Briar asks, her icy-blue eyes wide in alarm. “And why was it banned?”

Nan exhales harshly before hurrying to the door. She slams it closed and mutters a spell under her breath too quiet for me to hear. I feel magic electrifying the air before a light green dome the color of Nan’s magic shimmers into existence above us.

When she returns to stand in front of us, she pins us with a serious stare as she debates what to say. “It’s a potion for completely removing the magic of a person or object.” Her gray eyes that look almost identical to my dad’s did turn flinty, daring us to argue.

I have the signature McAlister gray eyes like my dad and Nan, but I get my brown hair from my mom. My parents always said I was a perfect mix of the two of them. Thinking about them causes my chest to ache. I rub my palm over the spot like that will alleviate it, but nothing really does. The pain from losing my parents will always be with me, but time has made it hurt, perhaps not less overall, but less intensely.

Briar gasps. She then looks up at me with a hope written across her heart-shaped face I haven’t seen from her in a long time. “If we find who or what is powering the curse, we can use the potion to stop them.”

I grin at her because she’s exactly right. If we can strip the magic from the spell, then female wolves get the ability to shift back. And the Knights won’t be able to expand the spell, at least for now. While the potion will solve the immediate problem of destroying the curse, there’s no guarantee the Knights won’t be able to create a new one. It’s a Band-Aid fix, but it’s more than we had before.

I open my mouth to agree with her, but Nan cuts in, her tone sharper than I’ve ever heard it. “No, absolutely not. Neither of you willeverbe using this spell.” Her tone brooks no argument. While Nan seems like a sweet old lady on the outside, she has an iron will and doesn’t take shit from anyone. I was not a fan of that when I was a troublemaking teenager, but I admire her for it now.

Briar’s shoulders slump, and her face falls. “Why?”

My heart pangs uncomfortably seeing how defeated Briar looks. Having to fulfill a prophecy to save an entire species is a heavy burden for anyone, much less a twenty-one-year-old who lived a huge chunk of her life without knowing supernaturals existed. I wish I could take the stress and responsibility from Briar, but I can’t. All I can do is be there for her and help share the load, at least when she lets me.

“Because it requires a sacrifice. Whoever is using the potion has to give their life up for it to work. Magic this dark never comes without a price.” Nan stares sightlessly at the crumpled papers in her hands, lost in her thoughts.

Briar gasps at the information.

My forehead crinkles in confusion. “What do you mean ‘magic this dark’?”

Dark or black magic is something straight out of human movies. In real life, all magic is neutral. Sure, some spells are nastier than others, but I’ve never heard of any forbidden magic before.

Nan lets out a weary sigh. Instead of answering, she goes over to a bookshelf tucked in the far corner. Rummaging around for a moment, she eventually pulls out an old, weathered book. Its worn leather binding is ripped, and the pages look like they’re barely holding on. Setting the thick tome down on the center table, Nan motions us over.

Briar stares at the book with apprehension, like it’s going to bite her if she gets too close. Intertwining my fingers with hers, I squeeze her comfortingly. That seems to snap Briar out of whatever she was thinking about. Blowing out a breath, she squares her shoulders and marches over to the book, dragging me along with her.

That’s one of the things I love about Briar. Even when she’s scared and overwhelmed and feeling defeated, she still keeps putting one foot in front of the other. She gives it her all, even when she’s sure it won’t be enough. That type of courage and determination takes an inner strength that few have. I couldn’t be prouder to call her my mate.

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