Page 18

Jade and Isadora are talking about herbs, and I’m pretty sure Jaslyn is two seconds away from offering to set the whole conversation on fire. Not that she says anything—her jaw is locked, and her green eyes are moving between the two witches like she’s watching a tennis match, but the irritation is practically radiating off her.

I’ve learned enough about Jaslyn to know she doesn’t like feeling out of place. Walking next to two witches who could probably weave spells in their sleep has her magic bristling under her skin like a cornered wolf.

“Yarrow can amplify protective wards,” Jade comments, gesturing with a sprig of the stuff like she’s in the middle of a lecture. “But too much of it, and you’ll end up weakening the energy lines. Balance is key.”

Isadora hums in agreement, and her dark hair bounces as she nods. “True, but you can counteract that with a touch of vervain. It stabilizes the flow.”

Jaslyn arches a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Or,” she cuts in, “you could just use basil and avoid the headache altogether.”

Both witches stop dead in their tracks, turning to stare at her like she just told them their favorite spellbook was trash. I bite back a grin, already knowing where this is going.

“Basil?” Jade repeats, skeptical. “That’s… unorthodox.”

“Doesn’t make it wrong,” Jaslyn fires back. “Basil’s got natural protective properties, and it doesn’t interfere with energy flow. It’s simple and efficient.”

Isadora tilts her head, studying Jaslyn with renewed interest. “You’re not wrong. But that’s a very instinctive approach to magic. Did someone teach you that?”

Jaslyn straightens her spine. For a moment, I think she’s going to shut the conversation down entirely. But then she squares her shoulders and lifts her chin. “No one taught me. Not officially. I had to figure it out on my own.”

The admission is quiet but charged, like a storm cloud ready to burst. Jade and Isadora exchange a look, and something unreadable passes between them before Jade speaks again.

“That’s impressive,” she says. “Most witches would struggle without guidance. Magic can be unforgiving.”

“Tell me about it,” Jaslyn mutters under her breath, but there’s less venom in her voice now. Her gaze flits to me for a fraction of a second, as if checking to see if I’m paying attention. I am. I always am when it comes to her.

“Figuring it out on your own must’ve been hard,” Isadora comments. “But it sounds like you’ve got a good handle on it now.”

Jaslyn shrugs. “You do what you have to.”

I step closer, keeping my voice casual as I interrupt. “Are we done swapping potion recipes, or should I break out the campfire and marshmallows?”

Jade smirks. “What’s the matter, Alpha? Magic talk over your head?”

“Not in the slightest. I’m just wondering if this is the part where you all start cackling and turning people into toads.”

“You’d make an adorable toad,” Jaslyn deadpans. “Very commanding.”

“You’d miss me in five minutes.”

“Maybe ten.”

Before I can retort, Theo jogs up from the rear of our little caravan, his face unusually tense. “Gray, we’ve got movement up ahead.”

“Demons?” My wolf snaps to attention, every muscle in my body going taut.

“Not sure,” Theo answers, glancing toward the dense trees ahead. “Could be, but it doesn’t feel… wrong enough. Might just be humans. There’s a clearing about fifty yards ahead. We’ll know more when we get there.”

I glance at Jaslyn, whose posture is already shifting into something more alert. The witches are sharp, but this isn’t their world—it’s mine. “Stay close,” I tell her.

She doesn’t argue. Good.

As we approach the clearing, I feel what Theo was referencing. Voices drift through the trees, and my wolf’s instincts sharpen into a single point of focus. I motion for the group to slow, signaling for Theo to take the left flank while I take the right.

The witches fall silent as we creep closer.

When we reach the edge of the clearing, the source of the voices comes into view—and my blood turns to ice.

Malcolm .

He stands in the center of the clearing like he owns the damn place. Wiley is with him, and his son’s smirk is as sharp and predatory as ever. But it’s the scene around them that makes my wolf snarl with fury.

A group of girls—witches, judging by their scent—are huddled together, their faces pale and terrified. They’re bound with magic-tampering ropes, and their wrists are raw and red. Two of Malcolm’s lackeys—both burly, wolfish types—are standing guard.

“Son of a bitch,” I growl. My wolf is practically foaming at the mouth, demanding blood for everything they did to Jaslyn.

Jaslyn steps up beside me, and she sucks in a breath as she takes in the scene. “Malcolm,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” I confirm. “Looks like he’s out looking for more witches.”

Her magic spikes into an electric pulse that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. “We’re not letting him get away with this,” she hisses.

“No, we’re not,” I agree.

Theo moves closer and asks, “What’s the plan?”

I grit my teeth as my mind runs through the options. Malcolm’s outnumbered, but he’s cunning. Reckless action could get those girls killed—or worse.

“We take him by surprise,” I say finally. “Split into two groups. Theo, you and the witches circle left, draw the guards’ attention. I’ll take Jaslyn and cut off their escape.”

Theo nods, but Jaslyn’s hand clamps onto my arm before he can move. “I’m not just backup,” she declares.

“You’re not,” I reply. “You’re my ace.”

“Damn right I am.”

Malcolm won’t see us coming.

The plan works—mostly. Theo and the witches draw the guards’ attention, scattering them toward the left, and I charge into the clearing with Jaslyn at my side. The element of surprise gives us the upper hand, and the sheer fury behind our approach sends Malcolm’s men scrambling.

It’s not until Malcolm spots Jaslyn, standing tall and defiant with her magic crackling like a live wire, that the real trouble begins.

“Well, well. Look at her,” he says lasciviously, gesturing at Jaslyn like she’s some prized horse up for auction. “Healthy. Strong. Radiant, even. That wasn’t part of the deal, Gray. I sold her to you to be used, not to have her paraded around like some kind of queen.”

“Careful,” I growl. “I don’t take kindly to people questioning my decisions.”

Malcolm barks a laugh. “Decisions? Is that what you call this? You’ve wasted what I gave you. Do you even realize what you’ve done? Letting her loose, giving her ideas about freedom—”

“I didn’t let her loose. I set her free,” I snap as my wolf bristles beneath the surface. “I paid you for Jaslyn, Malcolm. What I do with her now is none of your concern.”

“None of my concern?” His voice rises, tinged with disbelief. “She’s mine. She’ll always be mine. You might’ve paid, but I didn’t sell you the right to unbind her. To make her think she’s more than what she is. That’s not what I agreed to.”

“You sold yourself the illusion that you could keep me caged forever,” Jaslyn bites out.

His gaze snaps to her, and his face twists in rage. “Watch your mouth, girl. You think you’re untouchable now? That I won’t drag you back myself if I have to?”

“You can try,” she challenges as her magic coils around her like a living thing. “But you’ll regret it.”

Wiley steps up beside his father, and his smirk is just as irritating as ever. “Big words for someone who used to grovel at our feet. Don’t think we’ve forgotten what you really are. What you’ll always be.”

Jaslyn’s green eyes burn with fury. “And what will you always be, Wiley? A pathetic little boy who hides behind his father?”

Wiley’s smirk falters, and his face flushes as he throws his hands in the air. “Enough. I’ll have you back, Jaslyn, one way or another. You’ll see. And when I do, you’ll—”

“You’ll what?” she demands, stepping closer. The hum of her magic grows louder, and the ground beneath us trembles. Even my wolf flinches at the intensity of her power, but I stay rooted, watching her take control of the moment. “If you so much as look at me or another girl again, I’ll hunt you down myself,” she warns. “And this time, I won’t stop with just scaring you. I’ll burn your empire to the ground.”

Malcolm’s bravado falters as the weight of her words sinks in. The light surrounding her pulses, brighter and stronger, and for the first time, I see real fear in his eyes.

“You’ve made your point,” Malcolm finally states. “But don’t think this is over. I’ll be back.”

He turns to leave, motioning for Wiley and the rest of his men to follow as the girls take off into the woods. Wiley lingers for a moment, his gaze moving between Jaslyn and me before he spits at the ground and storms after his father.

When they’re gone, the clearing falls silent except for the sound of Jaslyn’s ragged breathing. Her magic flickers out, leaving the air heavy and still. She sways, and I catch her arm before she can stumble.

“Jaslyn—”

“I’m fine,” she snaps, but her voice is shaky, and her hands tremble at her sides.

“You’re not fine.” I steer her away from the group, keeping my voice low. “You’re about two seconds away from falling apart, and that’s okay. But not here.”

Her lips press into a thin line, but she doesn’t argue as I lead her toward a cluster of trees on the edge of the clearing. The others watch us go, but no one says a word.

When we’re out of earshot, she finally collapses against a tree with her face in her hands. Her breathing is shallow, and I can see the telltale signs of an anxiety attack creeping in—the quick, uneven breaths, the way her shoulders shake.

As I watch her unravel in front of my eyes, I make a silent promise to the both of us: I’ll protect her from anyone who tries to take her freedom away again.