Page 80 of To Keep A Wolf
He’s found another witch.
“Hello, Mac. My name is Rina.”
Her voice is friendly, which somehow makes all of this so much worse. Does she not understand what she’s here to help do? I don’t bother to reply. Not when Jadick is practically glowing with anticipation.
Instead, my disbelief gives way to a brokenness that threatens to buckle my knees right where I stand. All of it. For nothing. For this.
To have come so far and then fail is…
“Rina here is the original witch who cast our curse.” Jadick’s voice holds a note of triumph. “I’d given up looking for her, and then, boom, out of nowhere, she comes to me two days ago and volunteers to complete the ritual with her own blood.”
“Blood?”
“Turns out she’s the third generation,” Jadick says.
My mother looks ready to spit nails.
“I don’t understand,” I say.
Jadick looks radiant as he delivers the words, “Rina is your great-grandmother.”
“What?”
His words are a punch to my gut. Shock, disbelief…
I look down at my mother, who refuses to meet my eyes. She’s too busy staring at the woman as if she’s seen a ghost.
“Vicki, you should have called me,” Rina says quietly. “I would have come sooner.”
“I think your timing is perfect,” Jadick says. “And don’t forget your oath. You swore to me in blood that, after today, our curse regarding mates is done.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” she tells him.
My jaw drops. “You’re working with him?” I demand. “Even though we’re your family?”
Rina doesn’t answer. Levi, however, snarls. He’s recovering, which is good, but I know one wrong move will trigger Jadick to punish one of us for his attempt. I look over in time to see Tripp shoving Levi back down again. I know it’s for his own good, but seeing my mate on the ground and my own bloodline standing over it all like a traitor is more than I can bear.
I bring my elbow back into Burnett’s ribs, and he grunts, his arm going limp. I start to land another blow, but Jadick’s voice stops me.
“Fight back, and I’ll finish him,” Jadick warns, his words snapping me back to the present moment.
I stop fighting.
Burnett releases me long enough to lift me off my feet. I’m carried and then dropped unceremoniously onto the large slab of stone beneath the archway. My struggles to get up are met with vicious hands that shove me back down again. A rope is produced, and my wrists and ankles are quickly secured.
Panic bubbles up, threatening to choke me.
I can’t move. I can’t run. I can’t fight.
Instead, I scream.
It’s cut short with a stinging slap across my face.
I look up into Burnett’s cruel eyes and promise myself that, even in the afterlife, I will come for him. He won’t outlive my wrath, nor will he ever, for one day of his awful life, have peace. Not after this.
“Mac,” Tripp calls sharply.
I drag my gaze over to where Tripp kneels beside Levi. My wolf howls inside me, and it’s all I can do not to bite through these ropes and run to him now. Even if they kill me for the defiance of it all. But then I look at my friend—really look at him, and the urge to give it all up for something so futile is shoved back. Tripp’s expression reflects my own horror, but there’s none of the sad acceptance in him that I can feel in me.
