Page 115 of The Unbound Witch

Eden.

Bastian nodded, and she was back within minutes, the rest of our crew in tow. They entered the cabin quietly, all eyes falling to Torryn, who we’d moved to the floor and covered with blankets.

“He will live,” Bastian announced. “We don’t know the extent of his injuries just yet.”

Eden fell to her knees beside him, running her fingers through his long locks of hair and as if trying to find solace for her own heart. She dipped her head and cast, placing her hands over his body. She nodded, lowering her eyes as she rocked back and forth.

I’d understood Eden in the small moments. When she’d prepared tea in her cabin like my mother had. And when she nursed Atlas on the ship. When she’d used her magic to put Crescent Cottage back together because she knew how much it bothered me. When she’d attached herself to an old captain because he had no one else. I hadn’t given her enough credit. Hadn’t taken a step back and looked upon the witch that alwaysonlygave to others. She’d given her whole life to try to stop the Harrowing. She was a healer. In her spirit, as much as her magic. She’d saved me with a warning to my mother before I was ever born.

I knelt beside her, placing my hand on her arm. I didn’t know if she knew I was dying. She’d seen the illness when no one else had. But she’d also kept her promise and not said a word. And for that, I would always be grateful.

She pulled away from Tor as a tear fell, forcing a smile. “He’s going to be just fine.”

“You are the bravest witch I’ve ever known.”

She bowed her head again, placing her hand over mine, understanding melting over her. She leaned into my ear so only I could hear the next words she spoke. “We’ll find a way to save you, Raven Moonstone. I promise.”

My heart cracked. She knew. All this time, I’d kept a careful distance between us, unsure of her and her loyalty, and she’d known. Had kept my secret, even when I didn’t deserve that loyalty. I owed her my life, but I also felt like I owed her so much more. I owed her the chance at a life she’d given up all those years ago.

“We need to ask you about the Harrowing. Is it possible it was cast with only six coven leaders and not seven?”

She rocked back onto her feet, standing as she stared off into space, those opposite colored eyes of her focusing on nothing. When Bastian stepped toward us, his face full of questions, I looked away, unable to answer a single one of them. Not yet. Not when he was already in such a fragile state of mind.

“No,” Eden answered finally. “It would have had to be all seven.”

“But who would have cast for the Fire Coven?” Atlas asked, still standing with his hands in his pockets, eyes watching Torryn.

When Eden shook her head, Kirsi moved forward. “I know someone we can ask.”

46

KIRSI

“Who are we asking what?”

That deep, soulful voice of the man lying on the floor was music to my ears. I whipped around, unwilling to miss the look on Atty’s face when Torryn spoke. Full of relief, Atlas dropped to the floor, scrambled over the blankets and grabbed hold of him.

When the shifter hissed in pain, Atlas shot away, horrified. “Sorry. Fuck. Sorry.”

“Never thought I’d be so happy to see that ugly ass mug again,” Tor said with a half-hearted smile.

“Took you long enough,” Bash said, his shadows finally lifting from the ground.

Torryn slowly sat up. “I’ll try to be faster next time. Do we have anything to drink?”

Eden let out a hysterical laugh as she grabbed a cup of water and handed it to him. “Music to my ears.”

After several gulps, he lifted himself from the floor, slowly and with a grunt, but at least he was standing. “Stop staring at me. It’s unnerving. Who are we asking and what are we asking them, Wraith?”

“First of all, I’m not a wraith, as it turns out. I’m a wish, and apparently it’s different.”

“A wish, huh?” Atlas smirked, his scar wrinkling over his forehead. “You look like a wraith, smell like a wraith and definitely have the attitude of one. I’d say you’re a wraith.”

“Go jump in the ocean again, dog,” I growled.

When he winked at me, grinning from ear to ear, I knew the pain he’d just gone through had eased. And though he may never fully recover from the horror, he hadn’t lost his spark. Or his joy.

“Remember when Atlas said the wraiths were nosey bitches? Well, as it turns out, he was right. They live for it … or die? I don’t know. But anyway, there’s one named Meliora and we’re going to have to go to the Fiannah Cliffs to find her.”