Page 3

The crowd suddenly seems endless as I wade my way through it.

Even though I know there are fewer than a hundred people here, it feels like thousands.

Their stares feel like a thousand pinpricks attacking my skin as I push through toward the trucks and a couple of pop-up tents, hoping to find some peace away from the awe and drama so I can think clearly.

I’m dimly aware of someone following me, and I hope it’s not Tristen or Marian—I don’t even want to look at either of them right now.

Should I be surprised that Marian would throw me under the bus like this?

Probably not. Like most witches, she values magic above all else.

Her close personal ties to my mother before she died and my knowledge of the runes keep me somewhat in her favor, but it’s never been enough to shield me from her overall disappointment completely.

She probably thinks I’m finally living up to my potential by helping the coven.

By becoming a mate to a shifter.

I know the wolves make these types of alliances. Hell, even witches love an alliance, but it’s usually not one made by marriage. I’m not a shifter. I’m a witch, and my coven is supposed to protect me, not give me away like trash.

And to him of all people. Of all men.

If Marian’s announcement had shocked me to my core, Tristen’s outburst had floored me, sucked the oxygen from my lungs and crushed my ability to think rationally.

My emotions teeter between pure rage and a swelling of devastation.

That Marian would discard me so casually, and that Tristen would seize the opportunity to what? Humiliate me? Punish me? Degrade me?

I finally find some shade under the pop-up tent and release the breath of frustration I’ve been holding for too long. I hear a rustling behind me and turn, relieved to see it’s Ava and Sarah.

“Are you okay?” Ava says, pulling me into a hug I didn’t even know I needed. “That was…unexpected.”

Sarah and I scoff simultaneously. “They really didn’t tell you before?” she asks, incredulous.

I shake my head. “No,” I reply, stepping back and running a hand through my hair, “but that probably shouldn’t surprise me.”

“At least Tristen stepped up,” Ava says, and Sarah nods, clearly attempting to help. “I know he’s a bit grumpy, but he—”

“He hates witches,” I state plainly. The women look at each other and wince. It’s not their fault; they don’t know about my brief history with Tristen, but they do know he hates witches.

“Well,” Sarah hedges, “perhaps he’s had a change of heart, if he wants to help the alliance.”

Before I can reply, I sense Marian’s powerful aura approaching.

“We all must do what’s best for the coven,” Marian says, her bright white hair shining in the sunlight. Although ethereally beautiful, she fixes me with a hard stare. “You should be honored.”

I want to tell her where to shove her ‘honor,’ but I don’t. I’ve always wanted my coven’s approval; I’ve never gone against them, always trying to make myself useful. Can I really say no now?

I look out beyond Marian. The crowd is pretending not to stare, but on the stage, Tristen is engaged in some kind of tense debate with his brothers, and their attention is obviously torn between watching to see if I will reappear and the drama occurring on stage.

As I watch the scene before me, Tristen glances my way, almost as though he senses my gaze. Our eyes meet, and the scowl on his face doesn’t bode well. Something else flickers in his eyes.

Pure determination.

I turn back to Marian. “I need some time,” I whisper.

“Time is something you don’t have,” she replies. “The ceremony will commence now. Malik’s forces grow stronger, and our weak link with the shifters will be our downfall. An alliance with Tristen, who harbors the biggest resentments, will help your coven the most. I knew he’d step forward.”

At that, my eyes flick to hers, holding her steely emerald gaze longer than I ever have before. “How did you know?”

She briefly looks to Ava and Sarah before shrugging. “I knew. He has the most work to do, after all.”

I never told a soul about my encounter with Tristen in the forest, so she couldn’t possibly know about our history.

Could she? Not that it matters; her concern about how little the shifters prioritize our safety in comparison to their fellow wolves is sincere, and it’s causing rightful resentment within our covens.

If our kind stops working together, Malik will only be stronger for it.

I look to Ava and Sarah, both of whom look nervous around Marian. Most people are. But Ava lifts her head to give me a reassuring smile.

“You’re our friend, Emily,” she says. “We’ll be here for you, whatever you decide.”

Her words touch me more than she’ll probably ever know.

I’ve only known Ava and Sarah for a few short months since Malik attacked, kidnapping Ava’s beautiful daughter Harper.

I’ve had the chance to get to know them, working on the runes, and it’s only by making friends outside the coven that I’ve come to really understand how lonely I’d been.

I glance back over at the stage but can no longer see Tristen. Perhaps he’s changed his mind, anyway. The thought both excites and terrifies me at the same time. Taking a breath, I try to calm my nervous system, which I’ve worked on since I was young, reminding myself that I can do hard things.

“Okay,” I say quietly. “But I won’t let him treat me badly. I won’t be some submissive fake luna who is scared of all the shifters.”

Marian smirks, a low cackle escaping as she replies, “Child, you are still a witch at heart. I think it’s you who needs to remember that.”

I smile weakly at Ava, who is still holding my arm.

“We would never let him treat you badly, anyway,” she soothes. “Besides, I honestly don’t think he’s like that.”

Sighing, I nod. She means well, but I definitely don't have the emotional bandwidth to explain myself more right now. The only way through this is going to be to push those feelings down again, pretend that Tristen means nothing, and put the coven first.

I let Marian lead me back to the stage, my heart pounding so hard in my chest that I’m sure everyone can hear it.

The crowd naturally seems to part for Marian, and we reach the stage far quicker than I was able to retreat from it.

I linger back with Ava and Sarah, deliberately avoiding eye contact with anyone else.

Marian heads over to talk to Callum and Aiden, but I still can’t see Tristen.

Seconds seem to turn to minutes, and then the waiting just becomes painful.

My skin feels like it’s being flayed under the scrutiny of the crowd.

After what feels like forever, Marian claps her hands, causing a hush to descend over the clearing. “It is decided,” she declares. “The ceremony will begin.”

My legs feel numb as I take the steps with Ava, who then goes to stand by Callum’s side.

I don’t miss the look of apprehension that lingers behind her encouraging smile, but I don’t have long to wonder what she’s thinking before my heart almost gives out as Tristen climbs back onto the stage.

I'd be sorely mistaken if I were hoping for any kind of encouragement from him. His expression is thunderous.

I take a deep breath as he approaches, forcing myself to lock eyes with him.

He’s just as imposing as ever. It’s hard to look away.

His golden eyes glint in the moonlight, muscles tensing beneath his shirt.

All I feel is the onslaught of memories as he towers over me.

His rejection still stings as much as it did that night.

It shouldn’t. It was such a brief encounter, but it still weighs me down, no matter how much I try to overcome it.

He stops directly in front of me, and Marian stands with their healer next to us.

They instruct him to take my hand, and he does, but there's no warmth in his touch. Despite that, I still feel the flicker of what was between us. I think he feels it, too, because his eyes suddenly snap to mine, almost causing me to stumble back. But it’s not reverence or desire in his eyes now. It’s pure malice.

The bond ritual begins awkwardly, his fingers barely brushing mine as he traces the pattern on my skin with cool fingertips.

It feels like he’s going through the motions instead of bonding us together, and I can’t help but shiver under the harsh wind that whips through the clearing.

The trees creak as if they are just as unsettled by this union.

Tristen doesn't even meet my gaze. Instead, his focus is entirely on the process.

I try to concentrate on what I know about the ceremony from watching others over the years. There's supposed to be a kiss at some point—a symbolic joining of mates for all to see—but there's nothing about this that is normal. This isn't how it should be.

Finally, the moment comes when he traces the last mark and leans in close to my ear. His warm breath sends shivers down my spine as he whispers, "You're mine now, aren’t you?"

It's not a promise or a claim of love; it feels more like a threat. It makes me want to run away, but there's nowhere to go—not with the eyes of the entire crowd fixed on us.

He pulls back abruptly, breaking the contact between us before stepping away without even bothering to look at me.

My heart feels like it's been ripped from my chest as I watch him casually walk back to his brothers. The new bond between us sizzles with tension, but that’s the only thing connecting us.

I can feel a cold chasm growing between us, separating us further with every passing second.

I try to push past my fears as Marian announces, “The mating ceremony is complete.” The crowd murmurs with anticipation. As far as spectacles go, I’m sure a lackluster ceremony between a witch and an alpha will be remembered for a long time to come.

I keep my head high as Ava approaches to give me another hug, whispering in my ear, “Whatever his problem is, let me know if you need Callum’s or my help. It will be okay.”

I refuse to let Tristen see that I’m affected by any of this, so I keep my head held high as I return her embrace. “I will be fine,” I tell her, my voice far stronger than I feel.

Various groups break away from the crowd, and discussions and plans are made for both defense and offense, where Malik is concerned.

I feel almost cut adrift, left on the stage as everyone talks around me.

The sun seems to have disappeared behind the clouds suddenly, and a cold wind whips around me.

I look around just as Tristen strides toward me, his expression unreadable. “I’ve been told to take you back to the pack. My beta will stay for the rest,” he says. “Your sisters will send your things later. Come on.”

Without waiting for a response, he walks off, and I’m left to trail after him toward his truck. Thank goodness Aiden held the council meeting close to Tristen’s border, because the drive is excruciating and would have been so much worse had it gone on any longer.

We drive through the town. I’ve been here before, but never thought I’d one day have to live here.

It’s cute. It's a small mountain town with a main square that has some benches and lawns, and a large general store, cafe, and bakery. Tristen doesn’t seem to notice or care about our surroundings or me as he drives in complete silence, his jaw set as he stares straight ahead.

The alpha house is set just off the main square; I’ve only seen it from a distance before, as I made a point of avoiding being anywhere near Tristen on the few occasions I had to come here.

The cabin is admittedly beautiful, a perfect blend of modern and traditional, with a wooden exterior that has been stained a deep brown to match the tree line, and steel-framed windows that reflect the sun.

Inside, it's just as impressive. The floors are made from dark wood, the walls are painted neutral off-white, and the minimal Scandinavian decor gives it an airy feel.

I notice straight away there are no personal items anywhere; it feels like I've stepped into a magazine spread rather than a single man’s house.

After a half-hearted, brief tour, Tristen points down one of the halls. “That’s my room and office down there, " he tells me, leading me in the opposite direction and pushing open a door.

“And this is where you'll be staying," he says as I walk into the sparsely furnished room.

Under normal circumstances, I’d think the room felt quite calming, almost like a hotel room, with a queen-sized bed, a nightstand with a single lamp on it, and a small dresser in the corner.

A large window looks out over the wilderness beyond the pack lands—the view is beautiful, but also isolating. Just like Tristen himself, really.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and take a deep breath to steady myself. This is my new life now—a life I never wanted or asked for.

Tristen hovers by the door for a moment before letting out a breath. “I’m going for a run,” he finally says. “Don’t touch anything you don’t have to. No spells. I have cameras.”

I shouldn’t be stunned by his words, but I am.

I’m not sure he cares, though, because he simply shuts the door on me.

I listen to his footsteps receding down the hall before I finally allow myself to break down.

Away from Marian and my coven’s disapproval, away from Tristen and his coldness, I allow myself to take a moment and let out all the emotion that threatens to drown me.

And then I’ll put it all back in the box I keep locked away in my mind, and I’ll prove to Tristen and everyone else that nothing and no one can hurt me.