Page 32 of The Witch’s Spell (Season of the Witch #4)

Her sharp yellow eyes narrow, and for a moment, I see the alpha female lurking just beneath her calm exterior, waiting to lash out. But she doesn’t get the chance. Because Cathal steps forward, brushing around her to stand face-to-face with his brother .

“I want your witch to fix this,” he says. His blue eyes find mine, so similar to Faolan’s it makes me flinch. Alden’s arm tightens around me, holding me safe. Cathal sees this, and his lips twist into a snarl. “But I see she’s too busy with her other mates to do anything about it.”

The bond burns, making me gasp.

“Aurora is my mate,” Faolan says, taking a step closer to his twin. They’re almost touching noses now, exactly the same height, mirrored eyes glaring at each other. “She bears my claiming mark. She’s mine .”

Cathal’s snarl twitches into a smirk. “Does she know that? Do the others? Because I’m pretty sure they fuck her just the same way you do.”

“Cathal!” Orla snaps. She reaches for his arm as my legs give out beneath me.

The scar on my neck, the one in the shape of Faolan’s jaws, scalds me like flames.

Heat pumps through my body, reminding me of the night Faolan claimed me, of the excruciating pain that rent my body as his shifter magic filled my veins.

If not for Alden, I’d have collapsed to the porch, gasping for breath.

But Faolan is none the wiser. He’s breathing heavily, shoulders heaving.

Between one blink of my eyes and the next, he’s no longer wearing his human body. And neither is Cathal.

Two black wolves stand in the clearing, clothes ripped and discarded around them.

Their lips are pulled back into vicious snarls, fangs dripping with saliva and the hunger for blood.

I can taste Faolan’s bloodlust on my tongue, can feel his need to rip his brother limb from limb.

There’s something else there too, something buried so deep I have a hard time wrapping my awareness around it. But when I do, my eyes fill with tears.

It’s pain. Faolan’s pain. His heart aches for the family he used to know, for the home that raised and nurtured him. He cares little about the scars marring his body; it’s the ones on the inside that tear him up, that make him ache with a sadness I will never be able to heal.

“Faolan,” I whisper, my body trembling in Alden’s arms.

Alden is saying something to me, asking if I’m all right, but I can’t focus on him right now. All I can hear is the snarling from the wolves, then the horrific sound of fangs finding flesh, claws tearing the frozen ground into icy ribbons.

And the blood. There’s already dots of it falling into the snow, turning the pure white a terrible shade of crimson. With Faolan’s and Cathal’s dark coats, I can’t tell who’s bleeding worse, but they both have red staining their fangs.

Orla steps back, staying well out of the way of the snarling mass of fur and blood and claws.

“Do something!” I scream at her, my lips salty with tears that I didn’t even realize were falling. “Stop them!”

She meets my eyes, then gives a single shake of her head.

Coward! I want to scream.

She’s the only one strong enough to intervene, the only one who can stop them from... from...

My chest hitches with a sob as my claiming mark burns again. Tears course down my cheeks, cooling my hot skin.

They’re going to kill each other , I realize. They’re not going to stop .

I don’t know if they’re even aware of the damage they’re inflicting upon each other, or if they’re so drunk on blood and rage that they can’t feel the pain.

What I do know is that red is staining the snow now. The drops have turned into streaks, into splatters and puddles that make my heart twist inside my chest.

Faolan, please. I try to push my thoughts and emotions through our bond, try to reach him, but it’s like hitting a brick wall. Faolan, stop. Please.

Maybe Orla is speaking to Cathal through their bond, trying to calm him in the same way I’m reaching out for Faolan. Even if she is, it’s not working.

Faolan and Cathal are unreachable. Their need for blood is too strong.

And it’s all my fault.

Cathal is stuck here because of me . If I weren’t such a useless witch, I’d be able to send the fog away, would be able to fix the fairy portal and help the villagers and fix everything.

But all I can do is hunch over myself, still wrapped in Alden’s arms, watching through teary eyes as my mate spills blood and bleeds in return.

“Faolan!” I scream aloud this time, hoping it’ll get through to him. “Stop! Please!”

From somewhere to my right, the wind picks up.

It comes out of nowhere, a gust so powerful that it makes the pine trees bend and distracts the wolves for just long enough that they peel their fangs from each other’s flesh and hunch low, trying to resist the blast. But it lifts them both and tosses them clean across the clearing.

They land hard in the snow, tens of feet apart from each other.

And as soon as they’re on their feet, the wind is there again, whirling around them in vortices, preventing them from so much as taking a step toward each other.

“What the...?” Alden mumbles as I sit up straighter, using his strong arms for support.

We all look to see where the gust came from.

And Thorne is the one standing there, just around the edge of the cottage, one hand on the head of his cane, the other held aloft toward Faolan and Cathal.

There’s a slight furrow in his brow, a gentle look of contemplation, as if he’s deciding on his next chess move and not using his magic to keep two snarling beasts from spilling any more blood in Brookside’s clearing.

“Is . . . Is he doing that?” Alden whispers.

I’m almost just as surprised. Thorne showed me a hint of his magic at the library, but this ? This is nothing like I imagined. This is power the likes of which I’ve never possessed, will never possess.

He’s . . . incredible.

My lips press together when I remember that everyone is here. I know Thorne wanted to keep his identity a secret. But he’s revealed himself in front of them all—for Faolan, for Cathal, and for me. He might have just saved them both.

“Will you help me up?” I ask.

Alden quickly takes hold of my arms and eases me to my feet. “Are you sure you’re all right?” His dark eyes are concerned as they flick down to my stomach.

“I’m okay.” I pat his arm, then carefully descend the porch stairs so I can get a better look.

The vortices of wind are still spinning, holding Faolan and Cathal captive. Though it’s difficult to see through the torrent, their masses of black hair are visible being buffeted by the wind, and they’re both crouching low, claws sunk deep into the frozen earth.

“That’s enough,” I tell Thorne, voice low.

He flicks his pale eyes to me, then nods once. As he lowers his hand, the gale-force winds calm, leaving the clearing quiet—no more snarling or snapping, no more screaming. All is silent.

Behind Thorne, Rowan stands with his mouth slightly open, green eyes wide. Even the three hens gathered about his feet are staring.

Everyone knows now, even Cathal and Orla. Thorne’s secret is out.

But I can’t focus on that now.

My gaze returns to the wolves. They stand on quaking legs, bodies heaving with exertion and likely pain. And below them, their blood drips slowly into what remains of the snow, with most of it having been flung away by Thorne’s sharp blast.

I step toward them. Alden reaches for me, but I twist my arm away at the last moment, preventing him from capturing me once more. Then I’m stalking forward, my fear and shock draining away into one overwhelming emotion: rage.

“How dare you,” I whisper, voice trembling. My gaze flicks between the two matching pairs of blue eyes. At my sides, my hands begin to tremble. I grasp my thick winter skirt to hold them steady. “What is the matter with you? With both of you!”

Faolan isn’t innocent in this. Cathal may have poked the bear, but it was Faolan who decided to take the bait, to bite the hand and try to tear it clean from the wrist.

“Aren’t we struggling enough?” I continue. “Aren’t we all having a bad-enough time without the two of you acting this way?”

There’s movement to my right, and my eyes shift to Orla. She stops in her tracks. “And you. You were the only one who could’ve stepped in, who could’ve tried to stop this. But you just stood there. And you came here today knowing this could happen.”

Orla’s yellow eyes darken. “It needed to happen.” She stands up straighter, giving me a look that I imagine would send her pack members scurrying with tails between their legs.

But she’s not my alpha. And this is my home.

I stomp right up to her, tip my head back to look her in her eyes, and say, “Leave. And take your mate with you. Neither of you are welcome at my home anymore.”

A brief flicker of surprise goes through her eyes, but I turn away before waiting to hear what she has to say.

“Faolan, inside, now .”

He growls in response to my order, but I’m not afraid of him. If anything, right now, he should be afraid of me.

“Now, Faolan. I’ve had enough of this. Of all three of you.” Gaze sweeping across the three shifters, I shake my head. “I’m done. ”

Alden steps out of my way as I stalk back toward the house, and I leave every single one of them standing outside when I slam the front door behind me.

Inside, I lean back against the closed door. And as soon as I’m alone, the rage starts to drain away, and all that’s left is tears. They flood my eyes again and run down my cheeks. I can’t scrub them away quickly enough.

How did everything get so messy? Why can’t everyone just get along?

I trudge through the foyer and drop myself onto the stairs, where I bury my head in my hands and cry. And the only thing that gives me any comfort is the feel of Harrison’s wet nose as he nuzzles against my neck and the rumble of his purr while he sits there as I cry.