Page 81 of Waltzing With Witches

His parents stand in front of the pyre, his mother holding the ceremonial branch that’ll be used to light the entire thing. Tears stream down her face.

I grit my teeth as Richard begins to speak. As leader of the shifter community in Ever, this is his ceremony to perform. Morgan’s eyes find mine and fill with tears as Leighton’s father lights the branch. His mother touches it to the pyre, and the burning begins.

Could I have prevented this? I’ve racked my brain for every possibility. How could Wesley accomplish this? And how can we get one step ahead of him instead of the other way around?

“Body to dust to moon, we return our brother Leighton to you, Goddess. Return him to the halls of our people that he may run free in the dark forest of your embrace,” Richard says the final words as Connall lifts a ceremonial bowl for his alpha. Richard grabs a handful of purple dust from the bowl and steps forward, tossing it on the flames. They billow green then blue then purple, symbolically carrying Leighton’s remains up to the shifters’ moon goddess, Alaya.

Connall turns to Arkan and me. “Keepers, it’s your turn.”

I gesture for Arkan to go first. He grabs a handful of the dust and waits for me. Once I have mine, we walk together to the pyre and throw our dust on. Once it shimmers purple, we retreat to the edge of the circle.

I glance over at Morgan, but her face is tight, her chin held high. Lou, Wren, and Thea all sit with her, the girls clinging to one another. The firelight dances in their eyes. Lou softly strokes Morgan’s hair, her arm around as many of her nieces as she can fit.

It’s traditional to remain at the pyre until the fires begin to die down, which takes some time. The whole town isn’t here; it’s the shifters and centaurs and my protector team.

Once the flames begin to die, Leighton’s parents approach Richard, Arkan, and me.

“I trust you’ll figure this out quickly,” his father hisses. “We came to a haven for safety, and look what it’s gotten us.”

“We will not rest until we find Leighton’s killer,” Richard assures them. “None of us will rest.”

Leighton’s mother opens her mouth to say something, but closes it, tear-filled eyes flicking to me. “Please, Keeper. Don’t let this happen again.”

As the crowd dissipates, Arkan turns to me, his gaze steely. “We promised his mother that we’d find Leighton’s killer, and I have no fucking idea how to do it.”

Richard and Connall join us. “We need to put the town on a lockdown with curfew.”

“Agreed.” I turn to Arkan. “We’re dealing with something new here, something we’ve never seen Wesley do. Dirk is calling his team back, but can you think of anyone from the hunter team who might be specialized in something like this?”

“I’d love to help,” a deep voice rings across the clearing.

When I turn, a pitch-black centaur with tan skin and dark, wavy hair crosses slowly toward us.

“Dad,” Arkan hisses.

The older centaur waves his son away. “Psh. The study of dark magic is not a perfect science.”

“You can say that again,” Arkan grumbles.

“I’m open to anything.” I look up into the big centaur’s amethyst eyes. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m not certain yet.” He strokes his chin as he swishes his tail back and forth. “I’ve been reading all day after what happened to that poor, unfortunate male. I’ll know more by tomorrow. Can we meet in the morning?”

“As quickly as you feel ready with an idea.” I remember at the last second that I should probably ask Arkan what he thinks about this instead of making the plan, but old habits die hard. Coleading isn’t in a Keeper’s nature.

As we leave the funeral, my eyes drift to my mate. Thea and Wren have gone, but Morgan and Lou stand together, arms wrapped around each other’s waists as they watch the funeral fire burn to embers.

I stare at them, cataloging a look I’ve seen many times before. I’ve seen it between siblings, between parents and children, between friends and lovers.

It’s love.

And as I watch the women, I know I will do anything—anything—to protect it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MORGAN

Abe is lost in thought the whole ride home. I squeeze his thighs as we round a sharp corner and drive up the last hill to the castle. Seeing Ben makes my heart clench up tight. He makes the phrase “coming home” feel so perfect, so right. And after tonight? I need that.

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