Page 32 of Witches and Wine (The Mythical Mates of Arcane Cove #1)

Following behind two witches leading me to a cottage nestled in a wood thicket hadn’t been on my to-do list today, yet here I was.

They didn’t give off threatening vibes that I could tell, but considering a pixie was dead and one they had a connection with to boot, I remained cautious.

We hadn’t spoken at all during the walk, which in itself already put me on edge.

I’ve always been a talker and built a career around it.

Nonetheless, I respected their wishes for silence and used the time to keep vigilant of my surroundings.

An empty pit had formed in my stomach from Dion’s absence.

I had no basis for comparison, considering I’d never accepted a mating bond before now, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the physical ache from us being apart.

Perhaps it would improve with time? Or the more harrowing alternative—it could get worse.

Pressing my hands to my belly, I summoned my magic, attempting to lessen the hollow feeling, but I failed.

“It’s new,” the taller witch said, pausing long enough to give me a weak, reassuring smile. “It’s going to feel like a part of your soul is missing for a while until the bond can settle.”

I gulped and curled some of my rogue hair behind my ear. “Do you have a mate?”

“Yes,” she replied, walking again, the cottage within arm’s reach now. “A demon. He works in Bacchus on the weekends.”

“What a small world, huh?” A meager, nervous laugh pushed from my throat as I stood on the threshold to the cottage, the witches waiting for me inside.

The shorter witch lowered her hood, a pair of chocolate-colored eyes peering at me. “You’ll come to find it’s not so small after all.”

Gulping, nerves pricking my skin, I took one step, and an invisible weight pushed on my head and shoulders, making me stagger backward. It was enough to make me grab the doorway. Otherwise, I’d have fallen onto my ass. “Is this a trick or something?”

The two witches exchanged bewildered glances. “You can’t get past the ward?”

Grimacing, I slid another foot forward, that same pressure intensifying. “Apparently not. I feel like a giant thumb is crushing me.”

“You are new.” The shorter one folded her arms. “Use your magic. Show the shield who you are. Tell it what you are, and the pressure will lift.”

Grunting from the strain, I widened my stance and held up my palms, calling to my magic.

My eyes pinched shut, and piece by piece, I began to relax, starting at my feet and working to my head.

My power misted from my skin with little effort, curling in the air around me, lashing the ward, and then caressing it.

After several more seconds of the shield deciphering the power I possessed, it finally lifted, and I opened my eyes.

“Very good,” the taller witch said, smiling. “You’re a quick study.”

“Or just stubborn and prone to hyper-focusing,” I countered, smirking.

The two witches parted and invited me inside with beckoning arms. There was a towering unlit hearth at the back of the space, wooden, dusty floorboards, a chandelier with black candles, and a simple table with three chairs.

As I moved closer, the pentagram drawn on the floor with salt came into view, and I had to stifle a gasp.

It had already begun to feel real, but seeing this, being in this space with two other witches, it started to resemble a fever dream.

“Is this where you practice and conjure spells?” I crouched near the pentagram.

“What? This place doesn’t look homey enough to qualify as an abode?” The shorter witch asked, amusement bouncing in her tone.

I shot up, my hands erratically waving in front of me. “I meant absolutely no disrespect. I assumed from the lack of beds and?—”

They both laughed, the taller one wiping a tear from her eye.

“Thank you, Chelsea,” the taller one said, still chuckling. “We needed a good laugh.”

Not knowing what to do with my hands, I folded them behind my back. “You’re welcome. I think?”

The shorter one stepped forward with an outstretched hand and a warm smile. “My name is Amara, and this is my sister, Brigid.”

After shaking both their hands and feeling each of their magic wrap around me in a comforting embrace, I knew this was a safe space. The tension melted away, replaced by curiosity, wonder, and a sudden eagerness to learn.

“Come, sit,” Brigid encouraged, pulling out a chair. “I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and we have a few for you as well. Amara, would you mind?” She pointed at the ceiling.

Amara flickered her fingers, vibrant tendrils of orange spiraling toward the chandelier and lighting the candles. Once satisfied, she sat at the table.

“I do have a lot of questions, but I’m honestly not sure where to start,” I answered, resting my hands on the table to keep from fidgeting.

“Let us start with one, then, to pave the way.” Amara scanned my hair. “How long have you known you’re a witch?”

Fear wrenched my spine because I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit it. I dropped my gaze to my palms, and my knee bounced beneath the table, making it vibrate.

Brigid’s attention darted straight to it, and she tilted her head. “You have no reason to fear us, Chelsea. There are no right or wrong answers here. We’re merely curious about the extent of your magic.”

“The truth is—” I found the courage to look them in the eye. “I’ve only known for several days. I moved to Arcane Cove before I knew I had magic. I had no idea this place was magical, but something lured me here.”

“Your mate, perhaps?” Amara suggested, glancing at her sister, who nodded. “And maybe even us as well.”

The questions became clearer now, and I scooted forward on my seat. “The High Priestess told me I was a moon witch. Are all witches categorized like this?”

The sisters grinned at each other, this news exciting them.

“A moon witch. We couldn’t have asked for anything more fitting. But yes, to answer your question. I’m a green witch, while Amara here—” Brigid rested a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “—is a sun witch.”

My chest tightened, and I gripped my mother’s pentagram charm.

“My mother, she, too, was a sun witch.” I slouched, sadness seeping its way in.

“Was?” Amara asked, frowning and reaching a hand across the table to rest on top of mine. “When did you lose her?”

I didn’t pull away from Amara’s touch but welcomed it. While it wasn’t grounding like Dion’s, it still gave a different kind of comfort, one that my sister Elani could always provide. “I was a small child, and I never knew she was a witch.”

“Fate is such a mysterious vixen, isn’t she?” Brigid rested her chin on her hand. “Would you care to try a spell with us? I have no doubt our connection of three will be strong, but it never hurts to test it.”

Those nerves were at it again, and this time, they made my throat dry. “Could you tell me her name first?”

They both arched their brows.

“The sister you lost. If I’m to replace her potentially, I think it only respectful to know that much about her.”

Amara sniffled as if holding back tears, and through a cracked voice, she answered, “Sage. She’d been our third for nearly a century.”

A century? I didn’t want to be rude and focus on that particular piece of information, but the ages of these women quickly elicited a raging curiosity.

“Again, I’m terribly sorry for your loss.”

Brigid stared at the table with a fixed gaze, like she was recalling a memory. “She was a very talented forest witch and a bright light in the darkness.”

“But now—” Amara started, garnering my attention before continuing. “—you bring the moon’s glowing brightness to us.”

It all felt so right. Arriving in Arcane Cove. Dion became my mate. My destiny as a witch. Now, finding a sisterhood.

“I haven’t performed any spells yet. Can you teach me?” I extended both hands for them to take.

With emphatic grins, they squeezed my hands and stood, guiding me to the pentagram.

They ushered me to the highest point while they took positions at the lower two.

They kept hold of my hands, and the magic surging through us was almost overwhelming.

Subdued fury suddenly came out of nowhere.

I ground my teeth and staggered backward, their grips tightening on me.

“Chelsea? Are you alright?” Brigid asked, a concerned trembling in her voice.

Fury. Concern. Anger. Calm.

It was all over the place, and I shook my head. Dion. His intense emotions were traveling through our bond. How was that possible?

“It’s my mate. I don’t know what’s going on, but he seems to be on the verge of exploding. I—” I opened my eyes to find them staring at me.

“Go to him,” Amara encouraged, letting go of my hand. “Spells can wait.”

When Brigid let go, the magic receded, and I panicked. “What about the coven? Do I still have an opportunity to join you?”

The sisters shared a silent moment before Brigid squeezed my shoulders. “We would love to have you as our third, Chelsea if you wish to have us as your sisters.”

“I’d be honored,” I whispered, tears stinging my sinuses. “Thank you. I’ll reach out when I can.”

“You might consider claiming your mate soon, by the way,” Brigid answered.

I’d turned for the door but slowly spun on my heel. “Claiming?”

“Yes. It helps to make the emotional tether less intense.”

My power hummed at the prospect.

“I have no idea how to do that.”

Brigid gave a charming grin. “You will when the time is right.”

Nodding, I turned away, but a morbid curiosity gnawed at my insides. “One more thing—” Hesitation silenced me before I swallowed it down. “—Dionysus, he’s immortal?—”

“Chelsea,” Brigid started, a gentle smile gracing her lips. “Witches take on the lifespans of those they are mated with, whether it be human or mythical god.”

I returned Brigid’s smile. I would’ve taken any years the universe saw fit to grant us, but this knowledge unleashed a newfound brightness in my heart.

After giving them one final glance, my newly appointed witch sisters, I left the cottage and made my way to Bacchus.

The pulsing bass echoed outside of the club building, and a disturbing sense settled into my bones.

Something wasn’t right. The urge to protect what was mine tugged at my spine and had me storming into the club, the bouncer shutting up once he recognized who I was—the club owner’s mate .

I clamored inside, my nose poised, and I picked up his scent instantaneously.

He stood behind the bar, and a woman draped over it, stroking his horn.

My fucking horn. The moon lent me its glow, making my skin iridescent and displaying my power.

Dion shrugged away from her touch, irritation pulsing through him in waves, and he lifted a finger in the woman’s face.

He was fuming now, yelling at her, telling her to go away, but she wasn’t having it.

I pushed through the crowds; my gaze narrowed on the greedy bitch going after what she knew was mine. And that only made it worse.

“Hey,” I shouted, slipping my hands to my hips and waiting for her to turn around.

Dion’s heated gaze panned over me, his eyes roaming the lunar glow and the “I’m not in the mood for this shit” expression I displayed.

The woman finally gave me the courtesy of meeting me face to face, and she flashed one of the most flippant, nonchalant smirks she could muster. She leaned her elbows on the bar top and parted her lips to speak.

Before she could get a single syllable off her tongue, I flicked my hand at her, gluing her mouth and making it impossible for her to speak.

Terror flooded her eyes, and she frantically grabbed at her mouth, mumbling and trying to talk. Dion gripped the metal table behind him, denting it and staring at me with a ferocity that had me aching in my core for him.

Snatching the woman’s face, I used my magic to keep her still, to listen to me. “I sure hope you know how to eat through your asshole because I won’t lift this spell until you apologize to anyone you’ve bespelled, to Dion, to me, and any other unbeknownst being you’ve manipulated.”

She squirmed against my touch, her shoulders shrugging, and more mumbling followed.

“How do you apologize when you can’t speak, you might ask?” I brought her face closer to mine. “Write it, type it, spell it out with fucking Cheerios for all I care, but I won’t budge until you’ve turned a new leaf. Do you understand me?”

She emphatically nodded and rushed past me, hiding her face from customers who stared at her. My magic swelled in my chest, the white tendrils spiraling around me as if in approval of what I’d just done.

Dion, too, showed appreciation in the heat that still danced in his gaze like an unruly flame.

He leaped over the bar, moving in front of me, his hands finding my hips.

“That was—” Pausing, he massaged my waist and pulled me closer.

“Chelsea, let me claim you.” His nose grazed my neck, his canines scraping against the skin there.

“No one would dare try something like that again when they could smell your power on me.”

Claim him. You’ll know what to do when the time comes.

Nuzzling Dion’s neck with my forehead, I moved my lips to his ear, gently nipping the lobe. “Take us to your sanctuary, Dion,” I whispered, digging my nails into the taut muscle in his arms.

A bubbling growl vibrated in his chest, deeper than I’d ever heard it.

The sound, with all its underlying meaning and promise, had my heart racing.

Dion didn’t bother walking us to the VIP door.

He wrapped me in his burly embrace and ported us straight there, waving his hand behind him to make daylight disappear.

The sky melted into black velvet sprinkled with glowing white dust, and a full moon appeared—bright and resplendent.

The illumination charged my power, the magic striking every neuron before it floated from my skin.

We’d accepted our mating bond. Now it was time to claim each other’s beasts .