Fated for the Alphas: The Complete Collection (Nine Book Paranormal Romance Box Set) (46 page)

“It’s all right,” Ronan said. “No harm done. But how was it not seen in time?”

“She was supposed to be watching,” Briar babbled. “It was her shift, I was going to relieve her. But she wasn’t there, and the forest was aflame.”

“Who was supposed to be watching?” There was a dangerous edge to Kane’s voice.

Briar whirled. “Sequoia!”

And there she was, a red wolf slinking toward the den entrance.

“Where in the Hells were you?” Briar barked.

Sequoia shifted. She didn’t seem like her usual self at all. She stared at the ground, looking at them from the corner of her eye like she couldn’t bear to face them.

“Sentry,” Briar said coldly, “report.”

Sequoia trudged forward, giving him a tired salute. She didn’t take her eyes off the ground.

“Would you like to explain why you weren’t at your post?” Briar asked in a low voice. “Why we wouldn’t have seen a fire until it was too late? Your pack could have died because of you. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I have nothing to report.” Her voice quavered, like she was about to cry.

“Look at me,” Briar snapped.

Sequoia raised her head, and they all gasped. Her face was bruised and swollen around her right eye. It looked like she could barely see out of it. The skin around it was an angry mix of red and purple.

“What happened?” Briar asked.

“I left my post,” Sequoia said. “I should have told you, but I thought I’d only be gone a moment. I went into the woods to relieve myself. There was a noise—I thought it might be Shade’s pack. I was going to investigate when I slipped and landed face first on a rock.” She began to grimace, then stopped, wincing. “I returned as soon as I came to.”

A tear leaked out of her battered eye. “I’m sorry I put everyone in danger. I should have been at my post.” She bowed her head. “I accept whatever you deem to be a fair punishment.”

Briar looked to the Alphas. Ronan glanced at Kane, then nodded to Briar. “You’re captain of the watch. It’s your call.”

Briar seemed to deflate, his anger vanishing. “The fire wasn’t real, but we might not be so lucky next time. You’re going to be on the heights from dusk until dawn for the next week. I’ll be checking in to make sure you aren’t napping or shirking. Now go see Ivy about that eye.”

Sequoia bowed low, then backed away. She ducked into the den and out of sight.

Briar sighed. “I should be getting back to the heights. If you need me, you know where to find me. And again, my apologies.”

“You handled that well,” Ronan said. “Our pack is safe under your watch.”

Briar returned to his post. Lia hoped he wouldn’t beat himself up too much for the error that wasn’t even his fault. She frowned. That was such an odd story. It was hard to imagine the graceful Sequoia falling face first on a rock.

“Were you going to tell us something?” Ronan asked.

Lia chewed her lip. “I got a warning,” she said finally, “about the witches. A little girl told me they’d be coming.”

Ronan frowned. “In a dream?”

“No… in the forest, right after we ran Shade out. And there’s more.” Her throat felt incredibly dry. “She thought I was her mother.”

“There was a girl in the forest?” Ronan looked toward the woods, as if she might still be there. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“She disappeared right after. Besides, I thought I might be crazy.” Lia looked from Kane to Ronan. They both seemed equally perplexed.

“You’re sure it wasn’t magic?” Kane asked. “That mage boy, trying to trick you?”

“But why would Finn give me a warning? Besides, she seemed real enough at the time.” She wasn’t so sure, now. Somehow, the tale seemed even more outlandish when she recounted it out loud. Maybe she shouldn’t have told them.

“How could it be your daughter?” Ronan asked.

“It couldn’t be.” Still, Lia remembered how looking at the girl felt just like looking through a warped mirror. It made her hair stand on end just to think about it.

“Maybe it was some kind of vision,” Ronan said, “of the future. That’s possible, right?”

Then how had the girl been able to warn her of an imminent threat? Lia simply shrugged.

“If she is from the future, I hope she’s not my child,” Kane drawled. “Only Ronan’s could turn out that weird.”

Ronan elbowed him. “Did the girl say when the witches were coming?” He looked at the sky where the moon would appear soon, fat and almost full. “Delirium will descend on us in a few days. We’ll be strong then, but it’s not a great time to have company.”

Lia shook her head. “She didn’t. But if the witches are helping Shade, it probably won’t be long now.”

Ronan bared his teeth. “They won’t find us an easy target, despite all their magic. I’ll tell Briar to double the watch, and we’ll step up our patrols. The second a witch steps foot in our territory, we’ll know about it.”

“I’ll take the first patrol,” Kane said. “We’ll make sure none of Shade’s pack lingered, and check that nothing was burned.”

“Good,” Ronan said. “Don’t take Flint or Huck. We’ll have them lead a third and fourth patrol.”

Kane nodded. “I’ll let them know.” He kissed Lia on the forehead. “Don’t worry about your witches,” he said. “They’re not very smart if they aren’t afraid of us.” Turning, he bounded into the den.

Lia let out a long breath. “So neither of you thinks I’m insane?”

“Are you kidding?” Ronan put an arm around her. “You brought me back from the dead. I’m not going to question the extent of your magic.”

Grabbing her hand, he drew her into the meadow. “Let’s forget about warnings and witches for a moment. I believe I still owe you a picnic lunch.” Ronan set down the rucksack, which he’d somehow managed to hold on to.

Lia smiled, sitting with him among the flowers. She couldn’t be too worried, not when her Alphas were here. They would protect her. They always had, and they always would.

***

It wasn’t until the next day that she began to worry. Her unease grew as the sky darkened and cold air seeped into the meadow. It didn’t seem like a typical storm that raged and swept over them. It hung in the air like it was waiting for orders, like it had been made especially for them.

Kane and Ronan patrolled, but found nothing. Briar reported that all was quiet. It was even quieter the next morning, when rabbits fled from their warrens, and birds raced westward, screeching.

By the late afternoon, Lia felt sick with dread. She was almost relieved when Briar howled the alarm on the heights. There would be no more waiting. She walked into the meadow, looking into the sky. There they were, three dark shapes among the clouds. An envoy of witches.

The pack streamed out of the den. Half were shifted, half human. All had their teeth bared. Kane and Ronan stood on either side of her, glaring at the approaching figures.

The three women crested the trees, their cloaks whipping in the wind. They dropped low over the meadow, their feet brushing the tall grasses. Lia’s heart beat wildly. There was Magda, flanked by Hecuba and Lizabeth. She never thought she’d see them again, and here they were. Just when she least wanted them.

They stopped twenty yards from the pack, their boughs suspended in air. It seemed like Lizabeth was trying to catch her eye, but Lia ignored her. She would rather look at her own feet.

“We come unarmed,” Magda called, removing her hood and freeing her white hair. “We want only to talk. May we speak with you?”

Ronan stepped forward. “What do weapons matter when you’re witches? Why should I welcome you when you could kill me with a word?”

Magda’s eyes flicked to the scar at his throat. A smile formed at the edges of her mouth. “I could kill you,” she said, “but somehow, I doubt it would stick.” Her gaze swept over the pack, lingering for a split second on Lia.

“I can give you nothing but my word,” Magda said. “I want to talk. While we do, I will use no magic, harm no one. May the dark god strike me down if I lie.”

A cold wind blew over them, making Lia shiver. Ronan looked at Kane, who narrowed his eyes but nodded.

“Do you want to talk to them?” Ronan whispered to Lia. “If not, just say the word.”

“Let’s see what they want,” Lia said. Part of her was burning to know. Another part wanted the wolves to send them from the meadow forever.

“We can spare you a few minutes,” Ronan said. “But be warned, you may need to leave quickly if we don’t like what you have to say.”

Magda shed her cloak, draping it over her hovering bough. “All I ask is that you listen. That Lia listen.” She beckoned Lia closer.

Warily, Lia approached. “I know it’s me you came here to talk to. What do you want with me?”

Magda strode forward, clasping Lia’s hands. “We came to apologize, my dear. I can’t tell you how sorry we are.”

Her hands were freezing. Lia pulled away. “You cast me out, but maybe it was for the best. I don’t belong in the coven, do I?”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Magda said. “You need to come back with us.”

Though she couldn’t see her Alphas, she could practically feel them bristling. “I failed the tests,” Lia said. “You said I would never be a witch. Why do you want me now?”

“The coven has discussed the matter,” Magda said. “We feel we may have tested you before your time.” Her voice was sweet as poisoned honey. “If your magic has grown stronger, you belong in the coven. Do you disagree?”

Had Magda really gone this long without saying something cruel and scathing? This version of her was almost scarier than the one Lia knew so well. “What do you know about my magic?” she asked. “Who have you been hearing from?”

Hecuba tottered forward, leaning against a thick white staff. She turned her sightless eyes to Ronan. “I See the magic across his throat. Tell me, child, who brought him back from the dead?”

“I did,” Lia said. “But—”

“And you’ve Seen me lately, haven’t you?” Hecuba asked. “I know, for I have Seen you too.”

Lia suppressed a shudder at the thought of the old crone looking in on her. She wondered what the old woman had Seen.

“You can use blood magic,” Magda said. “You can See. Tell me, do you not want a second chance at being a witch?”

“Shade told you those things, didn’t he?” Lia didn’t know how he’d learned about the blood magic, but maybe Finn had explained it. “I know you’re working with him. You gave him everwort from your own garden, for him to use on us.”

“Working? With that animal?” Magda cackled. “No, dearie. If I had known how he planned to use my precious herbs, I never would have sold them to him. I won’t be helping him again, not if it hurts you. You belong in my coven. I won’t let you come to harm.”

Lia clenched her fists. That’s not what Magda said the night she had cast Lia out. Still, she had to get all the information she could to make sure her pack was safe. “You’re not Shade’s ally?” she asked. “You swear it?”

“I so swear,” Magda said. “It’s obvious now that our goals don’t coincide. I want to see you safe, under the coven’s protection.”

“Why should I go with you?” Lia asked, a bit more bitterly than she meant to.

“Lia?” The way Lizabeth said it was soft and small, like she was afraid Lia wouldn’t want to hear her. Lizabeth walked forward, but stopped just short of Lia. She winced, as if expecting a blow.

Lia couldn’t bear to see her friend like that. Without thinking, she launched herself at Lizabeth, squeezing her around the middle as they had when they were young.

The girl hugged back, though if she was laughing or crying, Lia couldn’t tell.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Lizabeth said, so quietly that only Lia could hear.

They broke apart, Lizabeth straightening her cloak. It must be new, for Lia had never seen her wear it before. With a pang, she realized that it was the windproof kind witches wore when riding their boughs.

She wondered if Lizabeth had made it herself, as she’d surely shaped her own bough. It floated in the air, waiting for its master’s bidding. She wanted to ask how hard it had been to shape, to bend to Lizabeth’s will. So much had happened to Lia in the past month and a half that they’d been separated. What adventures had Lizabeth had without her?

The girl clutched Lia’s hands. “Come away with us, Lia.” Her eyes shone bright. “There’s so much you can learn. And I want to see the kind of magic you can do now.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “We can be friends again, Lia.”

She had missed Lizabeth so much. The ache had never gone away—Lia had only gotten better at ignoring it. But then she remembered how her friend hadn’t even looked at her when Lia was cast from the coven. That hurt even more.

“Can we, Lizabeth?”

“We can,” Lizabeth said, “even if you don’t decide to come back today.”

Lia looked behind her, at her two Alphas and the ring of wolves behind them. Any of them would die to protect her. Could the witches say that?

“Come on, Lia.” Lizabeth smiled at her. “Come home.”

She took a step back. “This is my home now.”

Lizabeth’s face fell. “I know things didn’t end well between us. I wish I had been kinder, and I apologize. Please don’t let one night ruin everything, and the friendship between us. You don’t have to answer right now. Just think on it. For me.”

She walked back toward Hecuba, who handed over her staff. As Lizabeth returned, Lia realized it wasn’t a staff at all.

Lizabeth held it out solemnly. “We want you to have this, no matter what you choose. It’s a token from our coven, of the life you could have. Please accept it.”

“Are you sure?” Lia whispered. She knew she should refuse, but she simply couldn’t. She’d wanted one for so long. Her hands shook as she took it. Tears formed in her eyes as she ran her hands over the smooth length of wood. “What’s it made of?” she asked when she could speak again.

“It’s birch,” Lizabeth said. “It’ll fly fast and true. I know, I shaped it myself. Just for you.” She smiled. “It knows your hand now. Try letting it hover.”

Lia held out the bough. She gripped it tight, afraid to let it go. Would it reject her touch and drop to the ground? Or worse, fly far away to escape her?

“Go on,” Lizabeth said. Her eyes gleamed with excitement. With a jolt, Lia realized that Lizabeth had no doubt that the bough would accept her.