Page 30 of Unhinged Magic (Cutters Cove Witches #2)

Skye

Two months had passed since Wesley’s disappearance, dragging like one long, jaded breath.

Some days I scared myself, unsure if I was awake or dreaming.

Anger stirred within me, simmering beneath my skin.

I wanted to hate him so badly. For almost killing Morgan.

For fucking up the friendship he had with my brother.

For leaving me. I was too afraid to mention his name to Scar, let alone Tyler.

I gripped my coffee mug tightly, the warmth of the hot chocolate inside warming my palms. I let out a narrow breath, coasting it over the top, watching it ripple as it cooled.

A mind-numbing emptiness engulfed me, leaving nothing more than a bitter outside layer.

An empty hollow. I didn’t know how to thaw the cold that had frozen my heart.

A light knock on the sliding door of my bedroom sounded, the glide as it opened pulling my attention.

“Hey.” Scar emerged from inside, all perfect makeup and cautious steps. “Mind if I sit?”

I shrugged, staring back out over the darkened ocean, tasting its salty residue in the air.

She lowered to the outdoor couch beside me, causing it to dip as she sank into it.

Silence bridged the space between us as we both stared out into the distance. It didn’t feel uncomfortable. More of an unspoken comfort. Minutes passed, until finally her voice broke the silence.

“Talk to me. You need to talk to someone, ” she offered.

I had barely spoken in the last two months. Not unless spoken to first.

What would I say? I didn’t know what this was.

“Have you heard from him?” she questioned.

I finally turned to her, where she eyed me under thick lashes.

“No.” I took a long drink from my mug, the warm liquid sliding down the back of my throat, warming my insides.

“I don’t understand why he would do this.

” Scar folded her legs beneath her, the shift of her weight making the couch dip.

“He had to have a reason. He wouldn’t just throw away everything we had. ”

She pulled in a long breath, letting it out slowly, as if allowing her time to respond. “How sure are you that he’s your fated mate?”

I steeled my gaze at her. “I know it.”

She quirked a brow. “One hundred percent certain?”

My grip on my mug tightened. “Yes. I felt it. Everything .”

She stared at me for a long moment, trying to read me, I guessed. She frowned. “How?” She chewed the inside of her cheek in thought. “You need to convince me before anyone else.”

I let out a sharp breath, pressing my hand to my eyes until silver flecked the darkness behind my lids.

“It’s hard to explain… his gift did this thing where it must have relayed what he was feeling to me.

I felt it all, and even though it was only for a few moments, it was like nothing I could have ever imagined. He’s my fated mate Scar, I know he is.”

She nodded slowly, pressing her lips together, processing the information. “I think we need to go to Tyler.”

I recoiled, almost spilling my hot chocolate. “What? No!”

She bristled at my outburst, her hands pushing into the air between us. “Just hear me out for a second. What if this is the reason he did what he did? What if we can help and fix whatever this is?”

I stilled, her words prickling my skin. “I don't like this,” I murmured, adjusting the grip on my mug. “What if he doesn’t believe me?”

Scar leaned against the armrest, shooting me a skeptical look. “Has Ty ever not believed you before? I can’t imagine him dismissing something like this. He’s a levelheaded guy.”

I mulled over her words. She had a valid point. I veered my gaze away from her, willing nature for answers, or a 'sign' to steer me in the right direction, but got no answer. Maybe she was right. Maybe it was time to tell them all.

I straightened, looking at her again. I was lucky to have a friend like Scar, so understanding and patient.

For months, I had offered nothing more than a huff or a forced smile, preferring to lock myself away in my bedroom, pretending the outside world was nonexistent.

Never once had she questioned the way I was dealing with this.

But I wasn’t sure I could keep this secret any longer.

“If we’re going to do this, I need to tell the entire group at once. I need the guys there.”

Scar moved closer, brushing a hand over my shoulder, the makings of a smile creasing her cheeks. “I really think it’s the right thing to do.”

I didn’t mirror her optimism but nodded anyway.

She rose to her feet. “Leave it to me. I’ll gather the group tomorrow.”

I forced another smile as she left, closing the door behind her.

I placed my empty mug on the balcony floorboards, pulling my legs to my chest. Scar was right.

I needed to tell Tyler everything. I didn’t know how he would take it, but there was only one way to find out.

Nerves bundled tightly in the pit of my stomach, churning with every crash of the waves below me.

I sat quietly, mulling over the scenarios that could play out tomorrow, in the presence of the only two things that were guaranteed in life.

The cover of darkness, and the steady rhythm of the ocean.

It was time the world knew Wesley was my mate, and that thought scared the shit out of me.

***

The next morning, Scar led me inside the entrance to what she referred to as Colton’s place . I understood her word of choice, as the term house didn’t do the property justice.

My mouth fell agape as I stepped inside, noting the greenery climbing every inch of what I could only describe as an oversized greenhouse. I knew Colton was an earth mage, but I’d never been to his house before, and this? Mind-blowing.

Scar insisted on holding the discussion I needed to have here, on neutral ground as she called it. Now I understood why. The place had a strange presence about it, like nature could soak up every freaking emotion wracking my body and reset it.

If only it were true.

“What is this place?” I whispered, trailing the vines that climbed high above me to the seemingly open rooftop.

“Colt grows botanicals I need for my tonics in the apothecary, especially ones I find hard to access.” She shrugged. “It works.”

I nodded, impressed with the scenario. Scar tipped her head toward another door, motioning for me to follow.

Caution slowed my steps as I took in my new surroundings, a bare room save for some gym equipment and a circle of seats in the middle where our friends sat. Each one looked as confused as the next.

Reid’s arm rested on a raised knee, his fists opening then closing again as he watched us enter the room.

Colton leaned his elbows on his thighs, his gaze drifting to mine quickly before swerving across the room to where Morgan sat next to Tyler, who I couldn’t bring myself to look at.

Morgan numbly ran her hand over the plain chain she constantly wore; over the last few weeks, I had noticed she did this when nervous or unsure.

Jade adjusted the pencil in her hair. Or was that a chopstick today? I couldn’t tell.

I locked eyes with Tyler, his steel gray irises moving over me quizzically as I followed Scar, taking a seat. Nerves thrashed my stomach, the prickle of the groups attention raising the hairs on my arms. Could this be any more uncomfortable?

Colt cleared his throat.

I inwardly groaned: real fucking subtle. I pressed my palms into my pants, like the motion could calm my nerves. As if.

Tyler spoke first, his deep voice rumbling from his chest, directing his question at me. “What exactly is this?”

I had never been afraid of Tyler. Of what he would say, how he might react. But it’s not every day you tell your brother his best friend has been sucking face with his sister.

I turned to Scar for reassurance, and she nodded.

“Skye?” Morgan’s voice broke the silence. “Is everything ok?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words refused to surface, as if buried in a coffin six feet under for eternity.

I willed myself to speak, but how to start? What should I say?

Scar’s voice came beside me. “Wes is Skye’s fated mate.”

My eyes blew wide, craning my neck to look at her. Could she not have worked up to that?

“Fuck off he is,” said Tyler from across the circle. His words had a bite to them I was expecting, but I still cringed at the tone. It only served to make me more nervous. He made to stand, but Morgan’s hand grasped his, stilling his movements.

“Ty,” she whispered, her arm holding onto his. He bristled momentarily; locked in some form of freaky nonverbal thing between them.

“Sit down,” came Colton’s steady voice from across the circle.

Ty scoffed, a hand lifting in the air. “This is bullshit. He nearly killed Morgan!”

My palms turned clammy, my pulse wreaking havoc in my chest. Scar pulled her chair closer, taking my hand in hers.

Her grip squeezed mine with reassurance. “Go ahead.”

I swung my gaze around the room, choosing to direct my words at Colton. He seemed the most likely of the group to keep his cool, not bite my head off.

“It’s true,” I said finally.

“No fucking way.” Tyler fixed me with his steel glare.

Colton lifted a finger in his direction, motioning him to quiet, causing Tyler to release an exasperated breath. Colton’s brow quirked in my direction. “You believe Wes is your fated mate?”

I nodded, squirming under the intensity of his pale blue irises. He was the eldest of the group, the go-to guy. Reliable, apparently, should have been his middle name.

“He is not your fated mate,” came Tyler’s voice again. Morgan fixed him with a heavy glare.

I turned my attention back to Colton. “When I introduced Morgan to the group the first time, it was also the first time I had seen Wesley in years. He felt the bond instantly… I didn’t.”

“That’s not how it works. You both feel it,” Tyler stated, and this time I wholeheartedly pleaded with him. Let him see how drained I was, how hard this had been for me.