Page 10 of When Storms Collide

“Whatever her reason was, shedidspare me that day. I was banished from Istmere. I posed as a servant in the kitchens to regain entrance to the castle, and it was a risk. Zion helped, but he knew if Donika laid eyes on me at any point, glamour or not, I was as good as dead.”

“You posed as a servant to be able to set me free… but why did you then lie to me about who you truly were?” I asked, the hurt bubbling to the surface and bleeding into my every word. “Why not simply tell me you were my mother?”

Her eyes were pleading as she met my gaze. “I wasn’t sure you would want to know it was me. So much time had passed… I was scared.”

“Youwere scared? How about the eighteen-year-old you left with mortals, not knowing she had powers let alone magic that could turn on her andkillher? How about the eighteen-year-old who was prophesized to end a decades old war in a realm she hadnever been to, never even heard about?”

“It was a mistake. I see that now.”

I swallowed hard—the taste of bile strong in my mouth as I bit my tongue. “Oh, well I’m glad you’ve been illuminated to that fact.”

Annelise wouldn’t meet my searing gaze.

“And the grimoire?” I asked. “How did it choose me when you were still alive? You were its previous guardian, were you not?”

“I was,” she replied with a nod. “I knew you were coming of age. I knew you had discovered your magic once you had moved to Silver Oaks, so I sent the grimoire to you. Or rather, I sent it to find a new ward, knowing it had only a few left of the Kotova bloodline to choose from. It chose well… as I knew it would.”

“But didn’t you need it? You are a Stormshade, too,” I asked, confused. “And why can nobody else see it or look upon it? When Donika sent her soldiers to find it back in the mortal realm it wasn’t hidden, it was simply sitting in my dresser drawer. And yet they still couldn’t locate it.”

Annelise nodded, her gaze still captivated by her own hands gripped before her. “I had the book for a long, long time. The book of shadows served me well, and I had taken everything from it that it was able to give to me. It was time for it to move on.” Her lips quirked into a ghost of a smile. “The book of shadows is… unusually discerning. It commonly only lets its ward gaze upon its pages and learn its spells. With its sentient nature it would have sensed those searching for it. Hidden itself to ensure it couldn’t be found until itwantedto be.”

That made sense as to why Donika had sent soldier after soldier but come up empty each and every time. The grimoire didn’t want to be found until I had returned to the mortal realm to retrieve it myself.

“You didn’t need the book anymore… so your magic is bound, then?” I asked, a pinch of jealousy in my voice.

I should have known.

Of course Annelise’s magic was bound, there was no way she didn’t have control of her own storm magic. She was far too controlled. Too calm and collected.

She nodded in response, her gaze tentatively meeting mine.

“Zion?” I asked.

I had guessed correctly, apparently. A rose flush appeared against Annelise’s cheeks.

I wasn’t the only one she had taken advantage of, then. Zion had been in love with her—bound to her—and she hadstillleft him to be with Osiris. A new wave of rage filled me as I shook my head back and forth.

“At least one of us is bound, then,” I scoffed. “But if Nik died, I was supposed to die. But here I stand.”

Annelise nodded.

“That means Nik isn’t dead… that has to mean he can be saved. The binding isn’t gone. It’s not missing. It’sbroken. Something that is broken can be repaired…”

“We can’t know for certain,” Annelise replied, her voice tight.

“The spell was awfully certain. If he died, I die.” I set my chin as I narrowed my eyes at her.

“If there is a way, I will help you find it,” she replied.

“I don’t want your help,” I bit back, the words slipping free on instinct.

Annelise flinched, and a long moment of silence passed between us.

“Diana… what I wanted to say to you was thatI am sorry. I have messed this up irreparably and I know that I don’tdeserve your forgiveness nor do you have to give it to me, but I am sorry nonetheless.”

“As long as you’re sorry,” I sneered, crossing my arms over my chest.

I knew I sounded childish. Petulant, and immature. But I was so enraged, all I wanted to do was lash out. If my magic had come back by now, the sky would be dark, rumbling with thunder and fury. But my well of magic was still depleted, and I found myself thankful for that.