Page 11 of Curses and Casualties
I shake my head. “We can’t risk waiting. A poultice isn’t permanent enough. Every time you take that thing off to refresh it, your mark becomes a beacon, drawing the Alpha in.”
Georgia nods in agreement, her hand reaching out to give Scarlett’s arm a reassuring squeeze. “And Jase will definitely get us more money. We should go see that witch and block that asshole’s connection to you for good.”
Chapter 5
Ryan
The scent of strawberry and vanilla mixes with tattoo ink and disinfectant as we enter the tattoo studio on the corner of Andover and Honey Street. The walls are painted a deep teal color and covered with art of all kinds, from abstract patterns to watercolor landscapes. The shop is called Ancient Ink, which feels completely at odds with the color scheme and the K-pop music blaring from speakers in the back.
Witch den,Kane observes warily.Magic users always tricky. Never know if friend or foe.
We stop in front of the unmanned reception desk just as a petite girl with pastel pink pigtails and a bright, multi-colored tattoo sleeve depicting anime characters emerges, chomping bubblegum. She’s sporting a black fishnet top with a pink miniskirt and observes us with a pop of her gum.
“Sorry guys, no walk-ins today. We’re clos—whoa.” She stops abruptly, looking us over with widened eyes. “You’re not human.” She takes a moment to study each of us carefully. “None of you are.” Chewing her gum thoughtfully, she narrows her eyes before she adds, “Wolves.”
I clear my throat, not knowing if she senses what we are or deduces it based on my facial scars. “Caspian sent us,” I say,pulling the now crumpled list from my pocket. “He said you could help.”
The girl gasps loudly, hand pressing against her chest. “No way! Caspian sent you here?” She shakes her head slowly. “So this means the Soul Bond everyone’s been whispering about is totally real.” Her gaze darts between me and Georgia. “It’s between you two. But you...your wolf is cursed.” She says the last part to Georgia in a hushed voice. “She’s stuck in spirit form, isn’t she?”
Georgia shifts uncomfortably. “She is. But that’s not why we’re here. We need you to help our friend.” She gestures to Scarlett. “She was marked against her will.”
The witch’s bubbly demeanor vanishes, replaced by solemn understanding. “Oh shit. Come with me. I’m Jules, by the way.” She gestures to Scarlett who follows her to one of the tattoo stations and takes a seat. “Show me what that asshole did.”
Scarlett pulls the collar of her shirt to the side and Jules helps her remove the bandage and the sticky poultice along with it. “Oh wow.” Jules tsks her tongue as she examines Scarlett’s mark, whispering a few expletives under her breath before shifting back to look Scarlett in the eyes. “This is an Alpha’s mark.”
“Yeah,” Scarlett breathes. “I played a little too close to the fire pit and got burned with that one.”
“You were in a relationship?”
“Kinda. I thought we were fooling around. He... Well, you can see what he thought.” Scarlett gestures to her shoulder. “He did this when I rejected his mating proposal.”
The witch’s eyes flash with anger. “That is not OK. No one should ever be marked without their consent.” She takes a deep breath and moves over to a big bookshelf that stretches along the back wall. Running her finger along the spines of the books, she pulls out a thick leather-bound journal and brings it over to us.
Taking a seat on the leather stool she’d normally use while tattooing, she rests the journal on the station next to Scarlett and begins flipping through the pages, muttering under her breath like she’s using her magic to find the information. Then she stops, her finger slipping between two pages.
“Here we are,” Jules announces as she smooths the pages down so we can see. It’s filled with sketches and annotations in an elegant script, all revolving around curses and bonds. “This particular mark is tied deep to his alpha energy. It’s not just a claim—it’s a bind that pulls at the very essence of who you are. It tries to mesh his life-force with yours, making it difficult to separate where he ends and you begin.” Jules looks up at Scarlett with sympathy etched in her features. “This is heavy stuff. I’m not powerful enough to remove it, but I can help.” She flips the page again and taps against the paper. “See this? This is a ritual of Severance. It won’t break the bond completely, but it can significantly weaken it. It’ll give you your space and your autonomy back. Think of it as... clipping his leash.”
Scarlett lets out a shaky breath. “And what do I need to do? What’s the downside?”
Jules leans back, her eyes reflecting the weight of the situation. “The downside,” she begins slowly, “is that even with the Severance ritual, you’ll still feel his presence under certain circumstances. When your emotions peak—whether it’s anger, fear, or even intense happiness—he might sense it. It’s like an invisible thread tugging at his awareness. He might not know exactly where you are or what you’re doing, but he’ll feel that surge through whatever remains of the bond.” Jules’s fingers trace the edges of the worn page as she speaks. “It’s tricky, because it means he’ll always have an idea of where you are even if he can’t pinpoint your exact location.”
Scarlett nods slowly, absorbing the information. “So, in moments of extreme emotion, I could essentially signal him...like accidentally lighting a flare?”
“Yeah, exactly like that,” Jules confirms, flipping the page back to the diagram of the ritual. “It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.”
Scarlett looks down, biting her lip in thought. “What do you need for the ritual?”
“That’s the difficult part,” Jules says as she gets up and opens a cabinet filled with various jars and bottles, each labeled with handwritten tags in a flowing script. “I need to mix up a special ink and tattoo a sigil over the top of that mark.” She pulls out several small vials, then turns to a locked drawer and retrieves a velvet pouch. “Normally, the essence of lunar flowers and moon water is enough to power most spells. But for something this intense, we need heartstones. Of which”—she opens the velvet pouch and upends it—”I am out. Please tell me you guys brought some with you.”
Scarlett’s face falls. “We don’t have heartstones,” she admits quietly, disappointment edging her voice. “Only money.”
Jules places the empty pouch back down and gives a slight nod. “That’s a bummer. The only Soulcave around is the one your pack has control of. And in a city filled with people, random heartstones aren’t an easy find.”
“Then how do you get it?” Ethan asks. “Surely there’s some sort of supply chain. I’ve seen the Elders pay witches with bags filled with it.”
Jules chuckles wryly, her gaze flicking toward Ethan with a mixture of amusement and resignation. “Ah, the Elders do indeed control the supply and charge a pretty penny for it. They keep such mystical commodities under strict lock and key, available only to those who serve or further their cryptic purposes.” Folding her arms, she continues, “So unless you’re intheir good grace—which we are decidedly not—it’s going to be nearly impossible to procure heartstones through conventional channels. We’d need a small fortune or a favor too large to imagine.”
Georgia, who had been quiet during the exchange, suddenly perks up. Digging into her backpack with a sense of urgency, she pulls out a small drawstring pouch. Pulling the toggle loose, she tips the contents into her palm and holds out several luminescent stones to Jules. “Will this be enough?” she asks, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “It’s everything I collected when I found my way to the Soulcave. I’m sorry, I totally forgot I was still carrying them.”
