Page 5 of Crown Me (Immortal Vices and Virtues: All Hallows’ Eve #3)

Bron

T hat look in her eyes.

She appears more lost than any of the random trinkets adorning the massive tree outside in the garden.

Shadows dropped over her face when we first passed by the weeping willow. She paled and her gaze became faraway. I’m not sure if she was aware of how vulnerable she looked. All I know for certain is that, in that moment, she was haunted by something.

What kind of nightmares are in her past?

Now she steps quickly away from me—right after stepping toward me, her arms raised, as if what she wanted more than anything was… well… a hug.

I just want to tell her everything’s going to be okay.

I have no idea what problem needs soothing, but I want to soothe it.

At the back of my mind, my bear reasserts himself.

Mate , he says, emphatically.

No , I reply. She can’t be.

A mate is for life. Ours is gone. There are no second chances.

It seems the witch has given up on following behind me when she leads the way, making me, weirdly, a willing prisoner. After all, I could simply stop. Or back away. Hell, I could have smashed the glass atrium to pieces. That is… if I weren’t so damn worried about the poisonous plants.

I’m dying to know what she thinks I stole—the reason she’s brought me here—but since she said the Mother wants to question me, I’m sure I’ll find out soon enough.

The witch leads me along a series of corridors that, oddly, feel horizontal, but my bear’s senses tell me that’s an illusion.

I’m certain they’re actually sloping downward, taking us deep into the bowels of this building, which, judging by the brief glance I caught on the outside, appears to be in the shape of a castle.

Finally, she stops at a thick, wooden door. Other than the majesty of this door, there are no markings to indicate that it leads anywhere special.

“Not many supernaturals ever get to see the tapestry room,” she says. “Once you enter, it’s up to the Mother if she lets you leave. Alive, that is.”

The witch peers at me as if her warning should bother me, but all I really care about right now is the burning need to know her name. “Who are you?”

Mate , my bear offers again.

Not helpful , I tell him.

She shrugs. “An adversary, I suppose.”

The door remains closed despite her hopeful look at it, which tells me she can’t open it by herself.

Since nothing’s happening, I persist. “What should I call you?”

Her brow furrows at me.

I decide it’s time to take an educated guess. “I’ve met the Crone and the Mother. That must make you the new Mai?—”

“Don’t call me the Maiden ,” she snaps.

For some reason, I’m certain I’ve pressed one of her buttons.

I can’t help but smile. I may be no closer to knowing her name, but she looks less lost when she’s mad.

At that moment, the door opens. Slowly. As if it’s designed to keep us in suspense.

The Mother stands on the other side of it, her hands planted on her hips. She’s wearing a black dress that appears to be constructed from a simple linen material. The color isn’t a surprise to me. I’ve never seen either the Crone or the Mother in anything other than black.

The Mother’s ebony hair frames her face, but the power flaring in her eyes worries me. Normally emerald, her irises glint with fire, which warns me her power over flames is near the surface.

“Well, Bron,” she says sternly, “you’ve got yourself into a spot of trouble.”

My response is a growl. “I’d appreciate if you’d enlighten me.”

“This way,” she says.

I follow her inside, my footsteps slowing the farther I go.

The room is enormous, stretching out into the distance so far that I can’t make out a back wall. If there even is one.

The only source of light is the immense tapestry that extends from the floor to the ceiling, as well as from left to right.

A narrow corridor on each side allows me to see the way the tapestry curves, forming a wide fold before it snakes back the other way, winding from side to side into the distance.

Every thread glows. Gleaming rivers of them.

On the nearest side, at the unfinished edge, loose threads are weaving themselves into a pattern I can’t make any sense out of.

But the closer I get to them, the more brightly a single thread glows. It’s sapphire-blue, like the stone that represents the House and, unlike the other threads, it seems to be sitting on the tapestry’s surface, not integrated with the rest.

“When did you lose your House ring, Bron?”

The Mother’s question takes me off guard. Every member of the House of Spirit and Sapphire is given a sapphire stone. Many choose to have their stone set into a ring, but it’s also acceptable to place the stone in some other object, provided its bearer carries it with them.

I fold my empty right hand beneath my left hand. Luckily, I’m not desperately holding my pants up any longer. “I lost it while fetching eggs yesterday.”

I didn’t really care much about its loss, although I imagine I was supposed to worry about it. After all, it announces my allegiance to my House leaders. But wearing it was somewhat of an inconvenience. For starters, straw from the nesting boxes was always getting stuck in it.

The Mother stops abruptly in the empty space between me and the tapestry.

The witch who brought me here also stops walking but remains slightly behind me, now at the edge of my vision.

The Mother gives me a dubious look. “You lost it fetching eggs?”

“I reached into the nesting box, lifted out an egg, felt my ring slide off into the straw, and then I couldn’t find it.” I shrug. “Why does it matter?”

“Oh, it matters very much.”

Maybe the Mother’s about to give me a scolding for being so careless with my House ring, but I’m not sure why. As far as I’m aware, this coven has made it clear to Odin they may be allied with him but don’t take orders from him. They aren’t exactly his enforcers.

No, they would only care if it mattered to them for some other reason…

The Mother reaches into her pocket and whisks out a small object that glints in the tapestry’s light.

Holding it up for me to see, she turns it a little, ensuring I can make out all the little imperfections in it.

“Is this your House ring?”

My lips have parted in surprise. “Where did you find it?”

Assuming she wasn’t the one who snatched it. Not that I can think of any logical reason why she’d do that.

“Well, that’s the problem.” The fire in her eyes glows brighter. “I found it right where another object should have been. And unlike your House ring, that other object is an artifact of immense power.”

I catch on quickly. “You think I dropped my ring when I stole that object, whatever it is.”

“That’s our logical conclusion, yes.”

“You’re wrong.”

She peers at me. “Am I?”

Within my mind, my bear stirs again and this time, it isn’t because he wants to get closer to the witch who brought us here.

Unwarranted accusations don’t sit well with him.

I fold my arms across my chest. “How do I prove it to you?”

The Mother smiles, but it doesn’t feel like a good sign. “I was hoping you’d ask.”

She offers me the ring as if to demonstrate when she says, “You’re going to give the artifact back.”

Unfolding my arms and slipping my House ring back on my right hand, I ask, “How am I supposed to do that when I don’t have it?”

“Well, according to my tapestry, you need to start at the scene of the crime and take it from there.”

I give her a glare. “Where, exactly, is the scene of the crime?”

She gleams at me. “Within the boughs of the Tree of Lost Things.”

At the corner of my eye, the younger witch stiffens, her quick intake of breath indicating she’s about to protest. It was already clear to me that the tree means something to her—or at least, the feather she touched on the tree does. She probably doesn’t like the idea of me messing with her things.

The Mother waves her hand in the witch’s direction. “Adeline will go with you.”

Adeline .

Finally, I have her name.

“What? No, I will not ,” Adeline exclaims, proving my earlier conclusion correct with her objection.

“No arguments.”

The Mother seems determined to stare her down, but Adeline doesn’t give up.

“I can’t delay here.” Then more quietly, she adds, “I need to get back to my queen.”

She’s worried about her queen , my bear tells me. A fact I can discern clearly for myself.

The Mother’s hard expression softens. “A queen who’s very concerned about the artifact. Particularly because she cares deeply about the Tree of Lost Things and every object it treasures.”

The Mother steps up to Adeline, reaching for her hands. “For the last five years since we lost our Maiden, the Tree has been neglected. Crone and I have been too busy watching the fates of this world and now, to our shame, the artifact has been stolen out from under our noses.

“We need your help, Adeline. Your queen needs your help. I can’t leave my tapestry.

As you can see, the threads aren’t all weaving as they should.

And the Crone has another matter to take care of, which unfortunately, I can’t divulge in front of Bron, but I trust you understand how important it must be.

As for your queen, she won’t be able to focus on her child if she fears the artifact’s power could fall into the wrong hands. We all need you to do this.”

Adeline’s shoulders sink. She’s quiet for a long moment. “Okay.”

“Thank you.” The Mother clears her throat before casting her fiery gaze at me once more. Looking me up and down, she grimaces. “You need new clothes.”

Focusing back on Adeline, she continues. “I think a mercenary about Bron’s size had the misfortune of stumbling into our haven once. Take Bron to the dungeon. I’m certain you’ll find some discarded clothing there that might fit him.”

Before Adeline can reply, I let out a laugh. “The dungeon? No, thank you.”

“Stay in those threads, then.” The Mother turns back to her tapestry with a dismissive, “Off you go.”

Adeline doesn’t seem happy to accept the dismissal yet. “Mother?”

The older witch doesn’t respond, appearing engrossed in her task, and Adeline gives a sigh. “There’s no interrupting her now.”

Then, to my surprise, she tips her chin, a rebellious light in her eyes as she says to me, “We don’t need to go to the dungeon for clothing. Come with me.”

Within moments, I’ve followed her from the tapestry room. The door closes behind us.

“You didn’t steal the artifact,” Adeline announces, peering up at me.

“Well, thank you for finally believing me,” I reply gruffly. “But what changed your mind?”

Adeline grins. “The Mother didn’t kill you.”

Somehow, I’m not comforted by that, but I’m gratified Adeline no longer views me as a thief.

“But you must have something to do with it,” she continues, poking her finger toward my chest. “Or your House ring wouldn’t have turned up in the artifact’s place.”

She steps up to me, a vow on her lips as her hand connects with my chest. “Whatever secret you’re hiding, Bron, I’m going to discover it.”