Skye screamed.
Her grandpa had said it would be painful, but she hadn’t imagined this. When Alfrere had begun the binding spell a few minutes before, her skin had tingled with a thousand painful prickles. But quickly, too quickly, the prickles turned into claws.
‘Don’t struggle, Skye,’ Morrigan said. ‘It’s just the old spell fighting the presence of the new one. If you resist, it will make it worse and it won’t work.’
Her grandmother’s words wavered around like mist in a fog.
Another scream tore from her throat. The pain was so great she thought she was being flayed. She struggled, her limbs twitching, spasms wracking her body. ‘Stop. Please stop.’
‘He can’t stop.’ Her grandpa’s voice was a soothing whisper in her ear that parted the fog of pain in her brain. ‘It must be done. For your protection. For River’s protection.’
She stopped struggling as hard. ‘River,’ she breathed. ‘River.’ She gritted her teeth and bore the pain, for him.
It went on, interminably, despite Morrigan’s constant assurances that it would be over soon. Alfrere muttered words, his hands moving, weaving his spell around her. The fetters of it were hot brands clamping around her mind, making her cry out despite her efforts not to fight. Black nothing began to descend.
‘Will it be enough?’
‘She’s so strong. I can only make it hold for a little while.’
‘Do your best, Alfrere.’
Pain lashed into her. Black nothing carried her away.
‘Skye? Skye? Can you hear me?’
Skye heard Morrigan’s voice as if she was under water. She struggled up, out of the black, past the fog. Had she passed out? Her body was still wracked with pain, a terrible headache crushing her skull. ‘Skye. It’s over.’
Thank God. Her eyes fluttered open and she looked up to see Morrigan and Alfrere hovering over her. She was lying on the floor. She must have fallen off the couch. She couldn’t remember.
She rose unsteadily to her feet, her stomach trembling with nausea.
‘Skye, you should sit.’
‘No,’ she mumbled. ‘Visit River now.’
They didn’t try to stop her as she stumbled out of the room. She was relieved. She had to get away from them. They might have done what was necessary, and she might have let them, but right now she just needed some space. And she needed to see River.
‘Miss Skye. I thought you might need something sugary.’
Skye spun around just as she reached the stairs to see Ferris holding out a glass of Coke on a tray. Sighing in relief, she backtracked towards him and, with a smile, grabbed the glass, downing it in one go. ‘Thanks, Ferris. I needed that.’
He didn’t even blink. ‘I can see that, miss. Shall I get you something to eat?’
The Coke had helped the nausea, but she didn’t think she could face food. ‘No. Thanks.’ She shuddered, her nerves still twitching. ‘I just want to see River and then I want to go home and go to bed.’
‘Very wise, miss.’
She became aware of a dog howling outside. ‘What’s that, Ferris?’
‘One of the neighbours’ dogs, I suspect, miss. Or it could be a stray wandering somewhere nearby. It started howling about ten minutes ago. Is it bothering you?’
‘It sounds like it’s in pain.’
‘I’ll call the council. They’ll have words to the owner or pick it up if it’s a stray.’
He turned, but she stopped him, hand on his arm. ‘Don’t, Ferris. I don’t want the dog catcher to get it if it’s a stray.’ For some reason, that didn’t seem right.
‘I thought you didn’t like dogs, miss.’
An image flashed in her mind of her rolling on the ground with a large wolfish-looking dog, pulling its ears, ruffling its rust-coloured fur, laughing as its bushy tail tickled her bare leg. She smiled at the image that seemed so familiar it was almost a memory. But she had never played with a dog like that.
Or perhaps she had. Could that have been River in his wolf form? How could she have gone from playing with a wolf to being so frightened of dogs—and by association, wolves—that just thinking of them made her heart race? Had the dog that attacked her been one of the Were or a normal dog?
‘Miss? Are you okay?’
Skye blinked at Ferris. He held her arm, as if holding her up. The howling outside intensified. It pulled at her, making her want to go outside and find that dog and hold it to her breast, petting it until the agony that made it sound like it was dying faded away.
But that was insane.
‘I’m fine, Ferris.’ She pulled out of his grip and stepped back. ‘You’re right. I don’t like dogs. But I can’t stand to hear something in pain either.’
‘Neither can I, miss.’ He reached out and touched her hand, squeezing her fingers for a brief second before letting go.
Tears pricked her eyes and she turned away, unwilling to lose control again. She’d already cried far more today than she had in years. She didn’t want to cry again.
‘Why don’t you head up and visit Master River, miss? I’ll send up some sandwiches just in case you get hungry. Master River might be well enough to want to eat now, too.’
Giving in to impulse, she kissed his soft, wrinkled cheek, and then scurried up the stairs as fast as her still aching limbs would carry her, to her brother and the only sanctuary she’d ever found in this house—River’s rooms.
Careful not to make too much noise—he was always so sensitive to sound, especially after one of his episodes—she unlocked the door then opened it, grateful that the hinges didn’t creak like they sometimes did. Slipping into the room, she closed the door behind her with barely a snick of sound.
Even so, River groaned.
He lay on his bed, arms and legs strapped down by thick, strong straps of leather attached to the steel frame of the bed.
It always reminded her of a scene in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. She hated it, but knew the necessity, now more than ever. Her lip curled as she looked at him. If she could go out and find that rogue coven, she’d kill every single last member for causing the accident that made her brother like this. But now wasn’t the time for such hatred. River needed her to be calm.
As she moved closer, he whipped his head to the side, the tendons and veins standing out like fine lines of bruises on his pale skin as he struggled against the straps. He snarled, his mouth and features contorted into something that was more animal than human, and opened his red-rimmed eyes, the left one pulled down at the corner by the burn scars that twisted across the left side of his face and into his hairline like obscene tentacles. There was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead and his light blue T-shirt was plastered to his chest.
His nostrils flared as he breathed in deeply then all the tension released from his body and he flopped back against his damp sheets. In a voice hoarse with screaming, he whispered, ‘Skye.’
‘River.’ Her voice caught on the lump in her throat. She raced forward, fighting with trembling hands to undo the straps holding him to the bed. The scent of sweat and blood tangled in the air, making nausea rise inside her again, but she bit down on it, concentrating on keeping her hands steady as she released him. She undid the strap on one arm and was leaning to do the other when his free hand caught hers.
‘No, Skye. I’m not sure I can control myself.’
His voice was slurred with the drugs, but she understood every word.
‘You would never hurt me, River.’
‘I would never mean to. But I have.’
She cupped his face and stared into his eyes, so full of pain and confusion. ‘Shh. Don’t think of that. You’ve always protected me.’ She brushed the sweaty hair from his brow and leaned down to kiss his forehead. ‘I love you, River.’
‘I love you too, Skye.’
She didn’t deserve his love and trust. He still blamed himself for hurting her, but the bruises he’d put around her throat that one time had healed long ago, where she’d scarred him for life. He never accepted that argument from her and she wasn’t going to bring it up now. She kissed his brow again and returned to undoing the straps. They fell to the side of the bed, the heavy metal buckle clanking against the steel frame.
River whimpered, covering his ears with hands marred by scrapes and bruises, dried blood smeared across his knuckles.
‘Shh, River,’ she whispered. ‘Take some deep breaths.’ She covered his hands with hers, gently pulling them away from his ears, trying not to notice the mangled red mess that was all that remained of his left ear. She couldn’t let guilt taint this precious time with him. ‘I’m just going to get water to wash these, and some salve. You’ve scraped them raw. I’ll be right back.’
He grabbed her wrist in his large hand before she’d got more than one step away from the bed. ‘No. Don’t leave me. Please.’
He sounded so panicked, a little boy lost, that she didn’t have the heart to leave him right then, even though he desperately needed cleaning up. ‘All right, River. I’m not going anywhere for a while.’
He nodded, a whimper escaping him. His fingers tightened on her wrist. She winced. ‘River. Can you let go of my wrist? You’re gripping too tight.’
‘I don’t want you to go,’ he rasped.
She covered his hand in hers and smiled, even though her bones ground together under his strong grip. ‘I told you, I’m not going anywhere right now. I’ll stay here and talk with you until you fall asleep. Okay?’
‘I don’t mean now. You can’t go, Skye. I need you. They need you. Can’t you see that? Can’t you feel it?’
Skye shook her head. ‘You know?’
‘I told you the other day. The twin bond is open again. Ever since you met him.’
‘How much did you see?’
‘Not all of it. But enough.’
Her skin heated as she thought of what he might have seen and felt.
His hand tightened on hers. ‘They’re wrong. About me. About the Curse.’
Skye frowned. ‘I don’t think Jason lied about it. I think he believes—’
‘Not Jason.’ He screwed up his eyes, his breath coming in little pants. ‘It’s so hard to think. Damned drugs stop so much. But I need … moondust. Moondust will force a change. Please, Skye. Remember how to call it. Try.’
Ignoring the hot pricking of tears at the back of her eyes, she looked towards the one window in his room. It was high in the opposite wall, long and narrow by design—he’d flung himself out of the window in his old room in one of his fits in his teens. The only view this window gave was of the tops of the nearby trees and a sliver of sky.
‘I can’t call moondust. I don’t know how.’
‘You did. You used to do it to tease me with it when we were younger. You just … need to believe.’
‘Oh River. I want to. I want to more than anything, but it’s too dangerous. I can’t risk using my magic.’
He stared up at her, lips moving as if he was trying to say something. She gripped his hand in hers, holding on tight, as if by holding tight enough, she could stop him from slipping away from her.
Outside, the dog let out a final heart-piercing howl before falling silent.
River tried to struggle upright. ‘He’s here—go to him, Skye. He’s here.’
Shivers skated over her suddenly icy skin. ‘River?’ She tried to push him back down. ‘River, you have to stay calm.’
‘Go with him … Trust him—he can help. You can help him. You can help us all. But only after … you believe. Only after you … accept. But you won’t accept … not if you still believe … the lies.’ His grip tightened and his eyes seemed almost to spark with intensity, as if lightning shot through their depths. ‘They’ll kill me—him. They want to kill us … want the power … but it’s not theirs to have. Not theirs at all.’
Skye began to tremble, to shake her head, to draw back from his firm grip.
‘Are you talking about the rogue coven?’
‘Yes. And others … the warlock … he lies.’
‘He’s grandpa’s friend.’
He gasped as if in terrible pain. Veins stood out on his face, down his neck. ‘Alpha. Jason … trust him. For me.’ His head thrashed from side to side as he tried to spit out words that sounded more like grunts. Muscles bulged in his arms, as if trying to explode out of his skin. He was getting too agitated.
She twisted her arm out of his grip, took his face in her hands and looked deeply into his eyes. ‘River, listen to me. You have to calm down.’ The bristles of his five-o’clock shadow scraped against her palms, the scars on his cheek smooth under her fingers.
He trembled. Not from anger—from fear. She could feel it in the clammy coldness of his skin. The sharpness of his shallow breaths. He was like a wild animal, fighting the need to bolt. ‘Shh, River. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.’
‘No. Not okay.’ His gaze slammed into hers, the light in his eyes showing a lucidity his words denied. He reached up, cupped her face, his gentle touch belying the tension straining through the rest of his body. ‘Nothing’s been okay since we were stolen away. And now I can make you remember.’
A jolt shot through Skye as she stared into his eyes. The warmth of his hands on her face grew hotter and hotter until she was certain his fingers were going to leave blisters in their wake. She gasped, trying to pull away, but she was caught in his gaze, the light she’d seen before arching and shaping into something that drew her in. She couldn’t look away
Flashing scenes tumbled in her mind, one over the other—a car crashing into a tree; her mother impaled, dead; her papa pleading with her to run; people in black; hands grabbing for her; River bursting into a golden-rainbow glow; a shot, River slumping, caught in a half change, his eyes meeting hers, pleading; fire lashing out of her hands, lighting up those in black, turning them to ash; hands on her, around her; a caring voice; a prick in her neck—black. A terrible, tearing, black.
Outside, the dog started howling again. Almost as if it shared her pain. But the sound, that awful sound of loss and longing, brought her back.
She blinked, staring down at her brother as if she’d never quite seen him before. ‘What happened?’
‘You remembered. If you remembered that, you can remember …’ His voice choked off and he winced. ‘No. Not yet. Just a few minutes more. Please. Hold on for a few minutes more.’ He winced again, then cried out, his body shaking as if fighting against something holding him down. His eyes rolled up until all she could see was the blood-shot whites.
‘River?’ She took his face in her hands, but his eyes closed and his body went slack on the bed.
He’d passed out.
His face was ruddy, his skin and hair sweaty. The scars on his cheek were vivid white against the red flushing his skin.
‘River?’ she whispered. Grabbing the box of tissues from the bedside table and dunking them in the water there, she wiped his face, neck and chest. ‘Oh, River.’ She leaned over and kissed his brow. How could she leave him? How was she ever going to say goodbye? He needed her. But she had no choice. Morrigan, Harrison and Alfrere had made that very clear.
Tears pricked her eyes and her chest ached, making it hard to breathe. Alfrere had given her a few days, although she might not even have that if the spell was already weak enough to let her see River’s memories through the twin bond.
Somehow, in the next two days, she had to find a way to help him; to ease this suffering before she left. And there was only one way she could think of doing that given what he said about Jason and the pack.
Jason had said that they needed magic from her to break a curse. If doing that would help River, then she had to find a way to do just that.
Was there a way she could give it to them but still be far away? No. That wouldn’t work, because if she was using magic, she could be tracked.
Could she find some other witch to bind to their pack to give them what they needed?
She almost cried out as a tug, sharp and tearing, pulled at her heart, stealing her breath at the thought of Jason wanting someone else.
But if that was the only way …
She ran her hand over River’s hair, down the side of his face in a caress she could only steal when he was asleep. ‘I won’t leave you without a pack.’ Morrigan loved him and had done everything she could for them. But the pack would have doctors trained in Were physiology. They would be able to help him. They had to.
She’d read somewhere that wolves needed to belong to a pack. Or maybe it was just some deep-seated knowledge she had from when she was young; when, with a mother and brother who both turned into wolves, she understood what it meant to be Were; when her father taught her what it was she was meant to do.
Her head swam sickeningly with an aching emptiness.
Fudge! She’d forgotten so much.
Jason had mentioned diaries her father and other Pack Witches had written. She needed to read them, find out all she could. Apart from wanting to help River, she couldn’t leave Jason and his pack to succumb to a curse if she could stop it. Morrigan seemed to think it wouldn’t affect them as long as she was safe—but she wasn’t safe and would never be again. So she had to find a way around this curse they suffered under.
Another witch seemed the likeliest answer. One who could stay.
There had to be information about the spell that bound Were and the covens in the diaries. But where would she find a free witch powerful enough who was willing to tie herself in that way?
Fudge it all! A couple of days just wasn’t enough time.
Panic seized her and her fingers sizzled with heat again. Pain blazed behind her eyes, so hot, so white, it made her stumble as she stood.
Afraid to touch River while magic sizzled in her fingertips, she whispered, ‘I promise I’ll come back to say goodbye before I go. And I’ll find some way to help the pack. For Jason. For you.’
Tears pricked at her eyes as she staggered to the door. The pain, a white-hot inferno across her forehead now, was nothing in comparison to the pain in her heart at the thought of never seeing her brother again. She had to pull herself together. She couldn’t let the power spark once more.
Covering herself in thoughts of ice so cold it made her shiver as it doused the fire in her hands, she yanked the door open and fell into the corridor, bouncing off the opposite wall. Pulling herself upright by sheer force of will as the backlash against her powers ramped up, she put her hand against the plaster and used it as a guide to make her way down the hall to what had once been the servants’ stairs.
She didn’t want to see Morrigan or Alfrere again. She couldn’t bear it if they saw the spell had failed and wanted to try again. Certainly not when she was this weak.
She swiped at her eyes, stumbled off the bottom step, down the corridor and into the kitchen and almost smacked into Ferris.
‘Ah, miss. I was about to bring the sandwiches up.’ He paused and put the plate in his hand down on the bench. ‘Are you quite all right?’
Skye nodded, still shivering from the cold she’d shrouded herself in. ‘I’ll be completely fine in a few minutes.’ Her eyes flitted to the sandwiches. ‘It was so nice of you to make those, but I—’
‘I think you need more than sandwiches. These should help with that.’ He disappeared into the pantry and was back a moment later with a bar of chocolate and a bottle of flavoured water with minerals in it. ‘Promise me you’ll eat the chocolate and drink the water on the way home. After what Alfrere did to you, you need to hydrate yourself and you definitely need more sugar.’
‘You know about the magic?’ she stuttered.
‘Of course. Harrison and I were friends. I know much of what has gone on.’
‘Are you a warlock, too?’
‘No, miss. I have no magics to speak of.’
She gripped his hand before taking the chocolate and water from him. ‘I don’t think that’s true. Loyalty and friendship. They have their own special power, don’t you think?’
He smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry. Everything will turn out for the best.’
‘I hope so, Ferris. I truly hope so.’
Cool rose- and jasmine-scented air wrapped around her as she stepped out the door. She broke into a stumbling run towards her car, desperate to get away from the house, from all the things she could hardly bear to think of.
But she had to think of them. She had to find a way to keep everyone safe.
She had to go to Jason and ask to look at her father’s diaries.
Pain spiked through her head again—her grandpa’s spell might not be working properly, but it still wouldn’t let her think about certain things. She’d learned from that pain not to think about magic for years. Now, she had to learn to reach past it. She couldn’t allow herself to be bludgeoned into ignorance anymore. She just wished there was a way to undo that part of the spell without releasing more of her magic. If Morrigan and Alfrere had been clear on one thing, it was that she could never use her magic. It was far too dangerous to be set free.
As she rounded the corner at the front of the house, the dog that had been howling gave a joyous yelp. Its master must have come home.
‘That must be nice,’ she whispered to herself. ‘To be loved like that must be nice.’
Without looking back at the house or out into the night, she hurried to her car. Just as she got to it, a brilliant flash of light caught her eye and she turned to see Jason stepping out of the shadows of the garden, gloriously naked.
She edged back, eyes wide as she realised he must have just changed from a wolf. He’d been the one howling.
‘What are you doing here?’
‘I followed you. You were upset. I had to make certain you were okay.’
‘It was you watching me before?’ He nodded. ‘Have you been following me all this time? I thought …’ She sighed, turning back to look at the house. Then she laughed, a little burble of sound. ‘Maybe it’s not as bad as they thought,’ she murmured.
Jason frowned. ‘I haven’t been following you, Skye. I tracked you at the snow and then to here, but when I know how to find you, where you live and work, when I can feel you through the Alpha–Pack Witch bond, what would be the point of following you?’
Her laughter died, the light in her eyes with it as she turned back to face him. ‘They’re right.’ She took in a shuddering breath, her eyes two pools of emerald-shaded sorrow in the dark. ‘I wish it had been you following me. It would have made things so much easier.’ Her gaze fluttered over him and then darted away. ‘Do you know you’re naked?’
He bent to pick up a pair of tracksuit pants he’d stolen off the washing line at the back of the house after he’d given up trying to break through the protective barrier that had surrounded the house when she was inside. ‘My clothes disintegrate in the change.’
‘Oh.’
‘Who lives in that house, Skye? They put up a barrier I couldn’t get through. It was torture experiencing your pain through the bond and not being able to get to you. What were they doing to you in there? Why did it feel like you were dying?’
Jason knew the questions were wrong the moment they popped out of his mouth, but he couldn’t help it. What he’d felt when she was inside the house was too violent to be laid aside. Fear was still a tangible bitterness in his throat.
Now that she stood in front of him, the urge to go to her, to wrap her in his arms and protect her from everything, was almost overwhelming. But he held back. Something had changed in her in that house tonight—he could smell it on her. She was worse than she’d been when she’d gone in. At least then, she’d only been confused and a little frightened. Now her grief pummelled at him. And something about her aura was off. The vibrations rubbed him raw.
‘Who lives in that house?’ he asked again when she simply stared at him.
‘My grandmother.’
‘So you said. But that isn’t possible. Your grandmother died years ago after running away from her responsibilities to the pack.’
‘No. My grandparents saved me. Morrigan is alive. She’s looked after River and me since our parents died.’
He stared past her at the hulking mansion. ‘This makes no sense. Her body was found six months after she went missing.’ He shook his head. ‘That can’t be your grandmother in there.’
‘It is. I promise you. I even look a little like her.’ She took in a shuddering breath. ‘She ran from your pack to save her son. She saved River and me. She told me the truth today. I—I need to share it with you.’ She glanced back at the house. ‘But not here. I have to get away from here.’
He moved towards her. Her attention snapped back to him and flinched away, banging against the door of her car.
His heart wrenched. ‘Please don’t be afraid of me.’
She bit her lip. ‘I can’t help it. My fear of dogs and magic is long ingrained. I’m not sure how I’ll ever get past them.’
‘Will you try?’
She took so long to answer that he didn’t think she was going to, but when he heard her soft ‘Yes’ he almost fell to his knees before her.
He closed his eyes and whispered to the moon, ‘Thank you.’
‘I need to go.’
He opened his eyes. Her pale face glimmered in the dark gloom of the stormy sky, eyes wide and luminous as she looked at him. Fear still sang from her, but it had changed a little; it didn’t seem to be so much about him.
So, he might be able to get past the fear. But the rest? There was something there that worried at his soul. Despite her answer, she still pulled away from him; physically and mentally.
He couldn’t let her go.
‘I’ll take you home.’
‘No. Not home. It isn’t safe for me there. It isn’t safe for Bron and Shelley for me to be there.’
‘Why do you say that?’
She shook her head again. ‘I’ll explain. But we need to go to your place. They won’t be able to find me there.’
‘Who won’t?’
‘The rogue coven. They know where I live. They’ve been watching me. It’ll be safer at your place for the time being. I don’t think they’ll look there for me yet. Besides, I want to read the diaries you told me about, find out more about the curse you spoke of and about my powers. So, take me to your house. I’ll tell you what my grandmother told me and you can tell me your side of the story and we’ll go from there.’
He had no idea what she was talking about, but he was more than happy to have her in the safety of his house. ‘Give me your keys. You’re obviously in no state to drive.’
She held out her hand and he took the keys, trying not to touch her because she was trembling.
A slow, cold burn began as he watched her walk slowly and mechanically to the passenger door. It froze his insides, yet his skin burned, like it was on fire. The urge to lash out at something was almost overwhelming. Curling his fingers into his palm, he clenched his teeth shut against the roar clawing to make its way out.
His wolf wanted release and it wanted it now. But she was still afraid of him, afraid of his wolf, and he didn’t want to increase the turmoil of emotion he could sense so clearly through the mating bond. He couldn’t turn into a wolf in front of her again any time soon.
First, he had to find a way to help her gain back her memories, learn how to harness her powers, then unblock them with Cordy’s spell.
When that was done, and the Curse was no more, he could show her the bliss, the gift that was their mating. He would shower her with his love until fear was not this brand of ice-cold fire between them.
Until then, his wolf must remain trapped inside.