Sliding his hands into his pockets, he pulls his eyebrows together and casts his gaze to Damien’s rumpled white blankets. “She’s a witch.”
A huff escapes Rex along with a knowing look. He moves away from the bathroom door and perches against an empty space on the nightstand. “You’re worried about the retaliations of her coven?”
Cinder looks at his beta from under his long, blond lashes. “I haven’t met any of them.” He shrugs. “For all I know, they hate our species as much as the rest of them used to.”
What he doesn’t say is that he’s worried she’ll be shunned by her people if she were to mate with a wolf.
Before the Realms War, witches and wolves hated one another. The only time we could ever tolerate being in the same space was when they presided over the mating ceremony – a magical binding that’s optional to the mated couple. The ceremony isn’t necessary. It’s tradition.
There are some witches who fought alongside us, who we now consider allies, but Jinx and Sara’s coven did not fight in the war. They may not share the same views as their sister covens. It’s a justifiable concern and one I hadn’t considered myself. If Jinx and I were to mate, would the Lotus Coven shun their skinwalker sister?
“Well,” I say, sighing through loose lips. “You’re going to meet them whether you want to or not.”
“What do you mean?” Cinder asks slowly. His eyes roam to the other two in a silent plea of support.
I sit up straighter, pulling my legs off the edge of Damien’s bed, and then settle my elbows on my knees. “We’re going to the coven’s house, and you’re coming with me.”
“What?” Cinder and Rex bark at the same time. Damien’s face pales as he slowly inclines on the bed. Though he’s grown closer to both Jinx and Sara, he still doesn’t trust witches.
“It’s time we get more information on the Bane.” My command vibrates my skin, and alpha waves pulse into the room. The three bow their heads under the weight of it.
I glance at my fingers guiltily. It makes me feel terrible when I command my wolves. Dirty. Exactly like Wice. “The Bane have everything on us. It’s time we seek the help of other species, and who better to go to than Jinx’s coven.”
“This won’t go well,” Cinder mutters. He chances a glance.
“The Lotus Coven may not know anything about them, Jacob,” Rex says skeptically, scratching at the stubble on his jaw.
My throat feels raw from yelling, but quietly, I say, “Someone has to.” And this someone might be Jinx’s mother, the one woman who knows everything about Adriel Whitethorn. Not to mention, she may have met his sister. Jinx needs closure on this matter of betrayal, and if we have to parade into a Wiccan lion’s den to get it for her, we will.
“How long will you be there?” Damien inquires, tucking his true feelings away like he always does. I eye the puffy scar on his exposed abdomen, again wondering why I didn’t feel the pain of that wound when it occurred. He’s always been good at hiding his emotions through the pack link, but it’s incredibly difficult to hide pain. I have my suspicions but nothing concrete. I’m hoping the witches can shed light on this as well.
“As long as it takes. Jinx is right. The Bane can’t break the curse with the book, or they would have done it by now. If we can get ahead of them – if we can find more answers than questions before they come for the necklace –.” I hold my arms out, encompassing the world of possibilities.
Rex rubs his jaw with one hand and pockets the other. “You’re looking for a loophole. For something to get rid of the Bane without putting Jinx in danger.”
“I am.”
“And you genuinely think the witches might have a solution,” Cinder questions. “Unknowingly?”
“I do. With the book, they’re nothing. With the necklace and the book, they have a better chance of undoing their damnation.” And with Jinx, I think to myself. I don’t voice it aloud, but we’re all thinking it. We’ve discussed it on occasion. There’s a very good chance the Bane are trying to lure her to them by taking the things she holds dear: her father’s book, her last living relative aside from her mother, threats to the pack. What will they do once they realize she’s not interested in their games? She’s a woman used to having nothing but a hard life and impossible circumstances.
“You think Jinx’s mother might have information she kept from her daughter?”
“I’m sure of it,” I growl. “She kept her father a secret for Jinx’s entire life. Why wouldn’t she keep the dark and dirty details from her, too? There’s more to this story, and it needs to be dragged out into the light.”
I don’t blame the mother. Not at all. My own parents kept many secrets from me to protect what little I had for my youth. When you love someone as deeply as a mother loves her child, you’ll say or do anything to protect them.
“They may not like that,” Cinder mutters and then winces at my scowl.
“They won’t have a choice.”
“It makes sense, guys,” Damien interrupts, jabbing a finger into his thigh. “And you all know it. Are you sure she’s ready to leave the pack?”
I snort. “Of course she isn’t, but it’s a bandage that has to be ripped off.”
“So.” Cinder draws out the word, and I just know by the end of his sentence, I’m going to want to punch his face. “You don’t want to mate with her because it’ll cause too much stress, but you’re willing to take her to the people who have lied to her since birth?”
I rub my face and groan into my palms. “This is bigger than that.”
“Do what you have to do to make her safe,” Rex mutters. He glares at Cinder, grinding his teeth together while wordlessly chastising the disobedient wolf. “I’ll take care of the pack while you’re gone. Give frequent daily updates. We’ll be fine.”
Nodding, I stand and stretch. “Double the patrol,” I grunt as my spine crackles like packing peanuts. “The guys won’t like it, but –”
“They’ll do it.” Rex crosses his arms and looks to the window. “They’re all infatuated with Jinx, and if it helps her in any way, I doubt anyone will complain.”
CHAPTER THREE
Jinx Whitethorn
When Jacob and I talked yesterday about visiting the coven, I didn’t really believe he would suggest going so soon. A few days of belongings are shoved into the backpack strapped to my shoulders. I’m hoping we are there for less than a day, but it’s better to plan for at least one overnight stay.
I adjust my backpack straps while I sit on Cinder’s bed and watch Sara pack her things into her monstrous, lipstick-red suitcase. The entire room smells of her perfume, but that’s not why I gape. I gape because of how much she had brought with her.
Several pairs of high heeled shoes are spilling out of Cinder’s closet, toppling over one another as vines push them to where Sara stands. Moments before, those same vines tugged dresses and skimpy outfits from hangers, dutifully folding them for her on the unmade bed.