Page 51 of The Unbound Witch

Bastian Firepool

I couldn't smile,though I knew he understood that. I turned to the seething old shifter and wiggled a finger. He didn’t notice the hair change. But Atlas did, choking down a laugh as he coughed into his hand. Torryn winked at me but managed to hide his own smirk.

Another note appeared as soon as the first burned away.

Miss Moonstone,

Should have gone with a different body part.

All jokes aside, we will need to meet with the Fire Coven elders before we can go back to your mother.

Aim for Atty next,

Bastian

I nodded once,letting the edges of the black paper burn away in my hand with a smirk.

Bastian pressed his palms into the table, standing once more. “Gather the elders. Have them meet us here as soon as possible.”

“If I may, Your Grace.” Barren stood. “Perhaps it's better to keep the form of Grey.”

“That is my intention,” he answered. “But in the privacy of these halls, I am safe.”

The old man's eyes flicked to Kirsi. “A wraith may very well haunt this library. If so, do you want them to see you?”

“The wraiths have never been my enemy,” the king answered. “But no. For now, everyone must believe Bastian died.”

He transformed back into his blond counterpart, sharing a wink with me as the Old Barren left the room, smoothing down his blue hair as if he had an itch.

“Nowthatis a useful spell,” Atlas said, clapping his hands.

I forced a smile before bringing the conversation back to the problem now that it was just us. “This is such a mess. The coven leaders are basically explosions waiting to happen if they have those Grimoires together. It's inevitable they are going to cast. It's the nature of who they are.”

“We are doing the most we can right now,” Torryn said, his voice so smooth as he reassured us. “Whatever the goddess wishes, whether we fight back or not, will be done. Right now, the most we can do is form a plan to get the books back.”

I shook my head. “I know the logic behind having the power of the Grimoires contained. But I also know the witches need them. If we give them back, maybe we can end this war.”

“Give them back?” Kirsi asked. “They've already got them. They stole them. And they are dangerous. I'm sorry, Rave, but we can't let them have the Grimoires. I'm siding with Bash on this one.” She threw him a look. “Can I call you Bash? I feel like we're on that level now, right?”

He smiled, though it didn't light his eyes. “Sure, Kir. You can call me Bash when it's just us. But stick to Grey for now. We have to keep up the façade.”

“Okay, Bash,” she answered, trying and failing to make light of a heavy situation.

Torryn circled the long table, drawn to the single shelf of books in the room. He studied the spines with his hands clasped behind his back before pulling one from the shelf. He opened the book and blew the dust from the pages, content to read while we waited. He smiled to himself before shoving the book in front of the king, pointing to a line. Bastian chuckled, shaking his head.

“Inside jokes are rude,” Atlas said.

Torryn's face lit with delight as he circled the table and placed the book in front of Atlas, pointing at something.

Atlas shoved the book away. “Assholes.”

I slid it toward myself, and Kirsi hovered over my shoulder. The top of the flimsy page garnered a drawing of a wolf howling at the moon, accompanied with a bold chapter heading:How to keep your friendly wolf from shedding, Part One.

Sharing a laugh, Torryn snatched the book and placed it back onto the shelf. There was something wholesome about this group. Something I'd only had with Kirsi before. As if we'd already been through hell together, and the small jokes among us would always mean a little more.

21

RAVEN