Page 92 of Spellbound & Speechless
“Aspen.” He leans in, brushing his nose against mine. “That’s right. This night isournight. Don’t worry about where my mother is staying. She’s a resilient woman.”
“I guess that’s where you got it from.”
“Oh, it is. I got everything from her. I barely remember my dad.”
“I’m sorry.” I frown. “I wish he were here today.”
“It’s all right.” He presses my hand to his chest. “I’m glad she’s here—and you. You being here is all I need.”
“Then it looks like we have everything we need. Everything and more.”
The party goes perfectly.We drink, dance, and spend so much time outside that the sun sets and the night grows cold. It’s not a problem. Ozan warms the place up with a spell, and he spends the rest of the nightholding Juniper close to his chest on the makeshift dance floor.
Mac and I sit at a table in the center of the party. I finally get to rest my feet and snack on the delicious lavender vanilla cake Maple made for us.
Everything is perfect.
The first sign that perfection will soon end is a smell. I’ve never smelled it before, and no one else seems alarmed except Mac and his mother.
I’m smelling it through our bond, I realize—through Mac’s superior senses.
It’s rotten, not quite like a sewer, but like something sweet that’s been left in the sun. Rotting fruit with a sinister edge. It’s enough to make my stomach churn. My throat closes as dread flows through me.
The fear of being stolen from. Of losing myself and my goddess.
Mac is on his feet before I can register what’s happening. The most alarming part is that his mother runs toward us. She’s been off at her table all night, occasionally chatting with the elders. This is the first time she’s approached us since our meeting.
Something is wrong.
“It’s the corrupt witch,” she says, wearing a severe expression. “I haven’t spotted her yet, but she’s here. You two. Get out of here.”
I shake my head. “We can’t. What about my family?”
It’s one corrupt witch versus a crowd of witches, and who will win should be clear. Still, I won’t leave them, even when Mac looks at me with desperation.
“Please.” He takes my hands and pulls me to my feet. “We don’t want to end our night like this. Comeon.”
“It’s too late.” The cackling is louder than the soft music playing.
I turn to look for the corrupt witch. Mac grabs me, pressing my back against his strong chest.
“You have five seconds to leave,” he growls. “I don’t want to get my hands dirty today, but I will.” His claws extend, prodding into my hips. His mother mirrors the defensive pose.
“I’m not going anywhere.” The corrupt witch reaches out to me with bony hands and a hideous smile—too white, too big. “You have what I want.”
“I don’t,” I say. “You don’t want my magic. It’s nothing—it’s useless.”
“It’s not. You don’t know how to use it. Come with me. Share a little, a pinch of magic, and I’ll teach you what to do with the rest.”
Mac holds me tighter.
That’s not how the abilities of a corrupt witch work. She probably thinks I’m the most gullible witch in the family, and maybe I am, but she won’t trick me so easily.
“No.” I hold my head higher. “I don’t wish to learnanythingfrom you.”
“Give it to me,” the corrupt witch says. “You won’t miss it, will you?”
Of course, I would miss it. My love magic is a part of who I am. Giving it up feels as unnatural as giving her a chunk of my heart—or the whole thing.
