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Story: Bewitched

I don’t know what this meeting is, but it’s clear that perhaps I now have to prove my innocence to two different institutions—the PolitiaandHenbane Coven.

I take a deep breath. “I spent over a year trying to get into this coven. Being here has been my dream since I Awoke as a witch. Even if you cannot trust me when I say I hold life to be sacred, you can at least trust that I wouldneverwant to jeopardize my spot here.”

The high priestess scrutinizes me, seeing entirely too much of me with those enthralling eyes of hers.

“Yes,” she agrees, “your Awakening profoundly shaped your life’s goals—just as it shapes all of us who come into our truest forms. But,” she continues, her tone changing, “you are notjusta witch.”

I go still. So still.

She knows exactly what I’ve only just learned.

“You are a soul mate.” The high priestess tosses it out there as though it’s something almost mundane and not the earth-shattering revelation I find it to be.

“I wonder how that might affect your life’s goals,” she muses, “particularly depending on the soul mate…”

Where is she going with this?

Does she know about Memnon?

She stares at me for a long minute before turning her attention to papers sitting on the desk in front of her.

“The Politia officers aren’t the only ones who are interested in you. The lycanthropes have been barraging me with requests to speak with you. They say it’s urgent, but they will not tell me what it is.”

She gives me a sly look. “They forget that witches see much, and we perceive even more. They do not believe you a murderess. In fact, they seem to hold you in quite high esteem.”

For a moment, my unease and self-doubt disappears, and my worries diminish.

The high priestess holds my gaze. “Would you like to speak with the wolves?”

Do I have a choice?

“You always have a choice.”

Aw fuck, can this broad read minds?

I try to erase the rude thought, but obviously, it’s too late.

The high priestess stares at me, her face expressionless.

“Yeah.” The word comes out like a croak, so I clear my throat and try again. “I would like to speak to the wolves.”

“Very well. I will let them know, and they will contact you. You are to continue to attend classes as usual. You will be watched. I hope that the next time we meet, circumstances will be different. That is all.”

CHAPTER37

When I enter my room,Memnon is already there, sprawled on my computer chair, wearing a shirt with some name-brand bourbon and too many rings to count, all while flipping through one of my notebooks.

I freeze.

“What are you doing here?” I say a little breathlessly. My stomach does a happy little flip at the sight of him, and I remember all over again just what the two of us did in this room less than a week ago.

The sorcerer glances up from my notebook, and his mouth curves into a sly, knowing smile. “I’m happy to see you too,est amage. Or would you prefer I called youmate?”

I release a shaky breath. He’s clearly already enjoying the hell out of my earlier admission. And I find I want to argue with him, even though I already conceded this point.

Nero pushes past me to rub against the sorcerer’s leg.

Memnon reaches down and gives my familiar a pet. “You asked to speak with me today,” he reminds me. “So here I am.”

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