Page 108 of Shifting Hearts 1
He looks at me sharply. “Who?”
I hesitate because the name that comes to mind doesn’t belong to an enemy. It belongs to my mother.
“I need to go back into town,” I say, not answering his question.
Lucian doesn’t argue. “I’m going with you.”
I shake my head. “No. You’re not well enough. You can’t even walk without flinching.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well, I do.” My voice softens. “I can take care of myself.”
He looks like he wants to argue again. Then he steps forward and cups my face in his hands.
“Come back,” he murmurs before kissing me softly, sweetly.
“I will,” I whisper back.
“I mean it. Don’t make me hunt you down.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I say with a smile.
But the fear in his eyes isn’t just about me leaving. It’s about losing control. Of himself, the situation, and the damned bond.
I walk into the forest and leave him behind because I have to know. I need to find out who is summoning death through the trees of Crystal Falls, and if my blood has more to do with it than I ever dared believe.
And deep down, I know I won’t like the answer. Because if I’m right… I’m not just part of this. I’m the reason it started.
TEN
Ghosts of the Coven
Emilia
Ihaven’t been here in ten years, but the town square hasn’t changed one bit. It’s still small and damp with the scent of moss and pine smoke, still caught somewhere between charm and rot. Like it’s pretending not to be a hunting ground.
The witch’s shop is tucked between an old bookstore and a taxidermy museum. Fitting. Dead knowledge and dead things.
I push open the green painted door and the bell overhead jingles. Every hair on my neck rises.
“Emilia,” says a voice I hoped I’d never hear again.
“Hello, Mother.” I use the old moniker even though I know she hates it. Her name is Moira now. She gave up “Mom” when I turned sixteen and refused to join the coven’s blood oath. She said I was tainted by wolf blood. That I was an “imbalance.” That my loyalty would always belong to beasts over blood.
She wasn’t wrong but I never expected her to cast me out for it.
Moira stares at me now with the same cold eyes she always had, silver, sharp, and framed in black eyeliner that doesn’t smudge. Her hair’s longer and streaked with white. But she still moves like a snake wrapped in silk.
“What brings you to Ashridge, child?”
“I think you know.” I keep my gaze locked on her as she moves around the space slowly.
“Try me,” she counters with a smile.
“There’s a summoner in the woods, binding corrupted beasts. One tried to kill me and another was sacrificed. That’s dark witchcraft and it smells like our bloodline.”
Her smile is slow. Cruel. “And you think it’s me?”
