Page 40

PIPER

I look down at the dugout grave where my father’s body has laid for the last eleven years.

I haven’t been back to my father’s grave since the day he was buried.

There’s a weird sense of him being here right now.

Not that I think his spirit is lingering in his body or anything, but it’s almost as if he’s glaring up at me from down below.

I look over my shoulder. My friends have moved far enough away that they can’t hear me.

“When I was little, you used to sit me down and lecture me for hours on everything I was doing wrong,” I say to the now closed casket. “Now, it’s your turn to listen, even if it’s only in spirit.

“You were a horrible father. The things you did were damaging and cruel. I will never forgive you for the way you treated me or the hex you put on me. I want you to know that I’m breaking free of the shackles that you put on me.

I refuse to be meek any longer. To let others tell me that my voice isn’t important.

You failed. I want you to know that most of all.

You wanted to break my spirit, but in spite of everything you tried, I learned how to persevere. ”

I stare at the weathered casket, remembering the withered husk inside.

“I hope the Crone is punishing you in whatever version of hell exists. After tonight, I won’t think of you again. Soon, I’ll be free of this hex, and with it, free from the reminder that you ever existed. Fuck you.”

I pick up a shovel and toss dirt over my father, burying the past as I bury his body.

Ambrose appears moments later. He picks up another shovel and helps me fill in the grave.

The rest of my friends circle around us, picking up the remaining shovels or standing guard until the last bit of dirt is back in place.

“Thanks for helping, everyone. I think Piper and I have it from here,” Ambrose says as we make our way back to the car.

Bram laughs, a deep dark rumble from his belly. “I did not just go through that without a payoff.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ambrose replies as he throws a shovel into the back of his SUV.

Odie claps him on the back and signs, “Nice try. We know what Piper has to do next.”

Ambrose turns an accusing glare my way.

I grimace. “I’m sorry. I just mentioned something to Josephine.”

Ambrose’s stare drifts over to Josephine. Roman throws an arm around her shoulder and glares at Ambrose. “Of course she’s going to tell me everything. She’s my fated bond.”

Roman holds up his hand, as if we don’t remember that he and Josephine are fated to be together. The black inky vines that circle his ring finger and hers are proof of that.

It’s a magical bond that happens when a witch meets their fated person.

The one who they’re meant to be with, the perfect compliment to their heart.

Josephine and Roman found each other, and then Ava and Bram discovered they were fated to be with each other.

None of us even knew this was a possibility before it happened to Roman and Josephine.

According to Fitz, it’s been so long since we’ve had fated bonds in Mystic Hollows because our coven split and decided that light and dark magic shouldn’t mingle together.

Our parents and their parents before them married purely for power over love.

Their selfishness only escalated when they did a ritual to pass along the Briar Witch’s curse to their firstborn children instead of letting it die out with them.

The incredible thing about these fated bonds is that it's a cure for the curses of the firstborns. I don’t think I’ll ever be so lucky to find my fated bond, but I already know I would never pass along my curse to a child.

I’ll die because of this curse, and I would rather do that a thousand times than watch my own child suffer.

“And who did you share this with?” Ambrose grinds his teeth together.

“I may have heard them talking about it.” Stellan shrugs. “And then shared it with Ava. And Odie. And Bram.” Stellan rubs his hands together. “So, are you whipping this potion up tonight, Piper?”

“Yes,” Ambrose says before I get a chance to answer.

I wasn’t actually planning on doing it tonight. While I’m anxious to break this hex, this is asking a lot of Ambrose, and I wanted him to tell me when he was ready. Not that I wouldn’t have been persuasive about getting it done sooner rather than later.

“Are you sure?” I lay a hand on Ambrose’s bicep. The muscle jumps beneath my touch. His hair is a little wild, but his eyes are soft as he looks down at me.

“There’s no question, Pipes. Let’s get this hex off you. You deserve to be free.”

My heart leaps into my throat and my eyes grow teary.

“Okay. We’ll do it when we get home,” I murmur, feeling as though the Maiden, Mother, and Crone have blessed me for once in my life.

Once we’re back at the chateau, Josephine sits in the kitchen with me while I brew up the potion.

Everyone else is out in the living room having drinks and playing pool.

No one is taking this seriously enough in my opinion, but Ambrose is the one who this will impact the most. If he wants to prepare by pretending this isn’t going to happen, then that’s his decision.

The potion for the spell is actually very simple. I gather my ingredients in a row on the counter. Chamomile, lavender, cinnamon, turmeric, thyme, and my father’s tongue. This is essentially a tea with a hint of body part.

Josephine watches while I measure everything out and start water boiling on the stove. She has the hood of her sweatshirt up over her head, still cold from our cemetery outing.

“I’m sorry we didn’t know about your hex, Piper.”

I turn and look at one of my oldest friends, shaking my head. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I had no way of telling anyone what my father had done. You helped me get away from my uncle many times, and I’m grateful for that.”

She drags her hand through her dark hair, knocking her hood off.

“We should’ve known something was wrong.

How many times did you do something that your uncle asked that we thought was insane.

And the way it seemed like it pained you to obey.

Because it did. We were all so clueless. It’s embarrassing.”

I lay a hand on Josephine’s. “You were in your own bad situation.” I squeeze her fingers, and she smiles.

I’m sure it still feels strange touching people without feeling pain.

“I don’t blame you. Not at all.” That’s the truth.

None of my friends have had an easy life.

They’ve all had their fair share of troubles.

“And now you’re married to Ambrose.” Josephine chuckles.

I smile, but it falls away as I turn my attention back to the stove. “Once this hex is broken, we can get a divorce.”

“Is that what you want?” Josephine asks. “It seems like you guys really enjoy each other’s company.” Her tone is sly.

I groan and glare at her over my shoulder. “What did Roman tell you?”

Josephine laughs. “He may have mentioned something that happened at Heathens the other night.”

“Oh my God.” I drop my head and wish there was a hole I could crawl into.

“Hey, you totally walked in on me and Roman in my parents’ library. It’s only fair.” Josephine laughs.

The first night Josephine and Roman met was at the founders’ party at her parents’ house. They discovered they could touch each other in a way they couldn’t with anyone else. I walked in on the two of them and got a flash of Josephine’s boobs.

Josephine's grin is bright and cheery. The kitchen is warm, and it feels like home. I don’t want to get a divorce, but that’s what I promised Ambrose. I can’t just expect that we’ll stay married forever because being with him is nice.

“Be quiet now, or you’re going to have to leave,” I throw over my shoulder. “I need to concentrate so I don’t mess this up and give Ambrose a third eyeball or something.”

Josephine sinks back into a chair with a hum. “Okay, I’ll be quiet.”

I throw all the ingredients into a cast-iron pot.

The aroma from the herbs and spices immediately fills the room.

Last to go into the mix is the tongue. The spell said it only required a sliver of the tongue.

I shudder as I remove it from the plastic baggie.

It’s dried and resembles a brittle rock.

With a sharp knife, I shave off the smallest piece possible and toss it in with the rest of the ingredients.

I chant over the mixture as I stir, letting my magic well up deep in my chest. It flows through my fingers and down into the pot.

The concoction bubbles up into my face, steam curling the wisps of my hair and bringing a flush to my cheeks.

I stir the potion, murmuring words of intention.

There’s no actual spell that needs to be chanted to infuse this mixture with more power, but I’m putting every extra bit of magic I can into this. I want this damn hex to break.

“It’s done.”

“That’s it?” Josephine asks, sounding surprised. She’d gotten herself a drink at some point, telling me that more time has passed than I realized while I was working my magic.

“That’s it.” I fill a small cup with the steaming mixture and take a deep breath as I carry it out to the living room.

Ambrose is sitting in his favorite ornate chair with one leg thrown over the arm.

Stellan and Odie are playing a game of pool.

Ava, Bram, and Roman are lounging on the couches that face each other in front of the fireplace.

They’re laughing at something Ambrose said.

Ambrose’s head snaps around when I walk into the room, and his eyebrows lift in question.

“It’s ready.” I hand him the cup. “It’s hot,” I warn.

“Probably best to scald my taste buds off anyway.” Ambrose takes a deep breath and throws the entire glass back in one gulp. He gasps and sticks his tongue out, waving his hand to fan himself. “Fuck, that’s hot.”