Page 15 of The Unbound Witch

“Both for sure. All things considered, who wins?”

“Moss Coven,” Raven and I blurted simultaneously.

Grey threw another flat rock as we shared a smile. It was genuine and beautiful, and something within this moment felt like everything would be okay. That we could find a new normal, and I needed that.

“I would have gone with Storm,” he answered.

I drew back. “Why Storm?”

“You know,” he said, waving his fingers through the air. “What with all the lightning and stuff.”

Raven swatted his arm. “You know as well as we do that just because they are from the Storm Coven doesn’t mean they would have a higher affinity for lightning than a witch from the Moss Coven. It’s bigger than that. Endora is far more cunning, and she’s been grooming her coven longer.”

“Exactly,” I said. “And the Moss Coven’s power is stronger when they are just barefoot. They can ground themselves anywhere. Storm Coven has to be in the middle of the storm for that kind of amplification.”

He shook his head. “No. I still think Moss is out. They haven’t had their Grimoire for a long time. I’m pretty sure they are losing their power.”

Raven and I both slammed to a stop. “Is that confirmed?”

He dropped the rocks in his hands, eyes widening as he took in our shocked faces. “Yes.”

Raven slowly shook her head. “I mean, we wondered, but didn’t know for sure. Endora hides everything.”

“Some of the Fire Coven elders are confident. It makes sense, though. We think if a Grimoire is destroyed, all of the witches in that coven lose their power. But she’s been so desperate to get into the castle, the attacks have grown in number.” He lifted a shoulder. “Like I said, it makes sense.”

Raven started walking again, her steps careful. “If the Moss Coven is losing their power, why haven’t they actually said anything to anyone else? Asked for help?”

I swooped to her side. “Because then they’d be the weakest, and Endora would never approve. I guarantee she gaslights her coven about it.”

“Willow and Nym arm wrestling,” Grey said to change the subject. “No magic. Who wins?”

“Nym,” we answered again in unison.

That name… that single mention hollowed me. It took me straight back to stolen kisses and budding love. And then to Scoop, a topic I immediately shut out of my mind. I couldn’t go there or grieve for him. I just wasn’t ready. I let myself be swept back into our game, if for no other reason than reality was far more gutting.

He clicked his tongue. “You guys are cheating. Just because you love her.”

The sorrow deepened within me. I couldn’t think of that golden witch, or her soft touches and lingering gazes, without feeling sadness or regret or something somewhere in between. Part of me longed to see her face and the other felt so embarrassed to be… like this, I couldn’t even imagine it.

“I have a real question,” I answered with a smile. “Who is in charge, now that…”

“Bastian’s gone?” Grey asked. “It’s okay, you can say it. And the answer is not much of one. There’s always been a plan in place, but with no heirs, anyone is able to rival what’s happening. The Old Barren will take charge for now, securing the castle alongside the Fire Coven. But there’s no telling how long that will hold if the witches descend.”

“So basically, we have no idea?” Raven slowed her pace.

He looked up at the sky, as if the clouds would orientate him in a new world. “Basically.”

“But the Thrashings will stop now? Or will The Old Barren keep those up?”

“The Thrashings were nicknamed that to make them something unforgivable.”

If I had a heartbeat, I think it would have ceased beating. “They were unforgivable in more than just a name, Grey.”

“No, Kir.” Raven cut in. “The Thrashings were not the king. Well, not entirely.”

“Then what were they?”

Grey cleared his throat, his gaze a million miles away as he swooped down and picked up another rock. “It started in the Fire Coven. The other coven leaders had been trying to kidnap the witches in our family to force them to give all the information about Bastian they could. To map out the castle and explain how to get to the Grimoires. It got so bad, he stopped visiting any relatives.” His chin dropped as quickly as his voice. “Except me.”