Page 113 of Scorned

“There are no buts. Only balance. The realm of magic, like everything else, operates under the guidance of rules.” She placed her hand over her heart. “The consequences will be harsh if I do not use my magic wisely.”

I slid my butt onto the edge of the recliner and leaned in. “Like what?”

“If I were to disclose the answers to the universe now, you would have no lessons left to learn.”

I darted my eyes to Lyric, and she raised her brows, telling me she had no clue what to say . . . and I was on my own.

“But—”

“There are no buts in the stars,” Shayla said, rising from her seat with more grace than a queen, heading toward me. “Give me your hand.”

At this point, I would take any info I could get from a witch, so I did as she said, holding my hand up in front of me.

Shayla grasped it, her brows furrowing.

“Your uncle is a powerful force now. Given that he shares the same bloodline as you, he will prove to be a formidable opponent. He is not a witch, a vampire, nor a wolven. He is a precise amalgamation of the three. A tercet among men.”

My eyes expanded, my jaw unhinging to the point of no return. “My uncle’s a witch?”

Shayla dropped my hand, glaring at me like I was an imbecile. “I have entertained you enough, my child. Good night.”

She strolled to the door with ease and left my cabin, leaving me completely bewildered.

“Winnie,” I screeched, jumping to my feet and pacing the small living room, my thoughts running rampant. One of them landed on the possible lies I was told.

Winnie finally weaseled his way out of the kitchen where he was hiding. “I’m glad she’s gone.”

My heated eyes darted to him. “You told me my uncle smelled like a vampire and a wolven. You never once said witch.”

“I tried to tell you that same night, but you shut us out. Then the next day you met the witches and I assumed you’d figured it out. You know, because you’re an Argentum witch and you and your uncle both have the same damn blood.”

“I was busy with the one million other thoughts in my brain.” With a huff, I slid my flip-flops off, plopped down on the couch next to Lyric, and put my feet on the coffee table, crossing my ankles. “What the fuck are we going to do?”

“Kill him.”

My gaze drifted from my unmanicured toes to Winnie. “Do you think he’s stronger than you guys?”

He crossed his arms, leaning back. “I’m not sure, but my gut is saying yes.”

I swallowed the tension building in my throat. “Do you think VRC made him?”

“Shit, I don’t know, Sage Stick.” He shrugged, his forehead clenched with tension. “Maybe.”

Lyric rubbed her hand down my arm. “Everything will be okay.”

A hard breath escaped me as I pondered another thought. “What was that word Shayla used? A ‘ter’ something. What’s that?”

“A tercet? It’s technically three lines in a poem, but I totally understand the resemblance between that and the three species he is.”

“Do you think Ben is the only tercet? Could there be more?”

Winnie’s thoughts seemed to wander off for a minute, his face unreadable, before he finally answered me. “Let’s hope not.”

Winnie and Lyric eventually left while Luka remained asleep, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

With only an hour left before the sunrise, I decided I’d do the dishes before bed, to get my mind off of all the fear I was harboring. I played some music through the Alexa Winnie had gotten me, but kept it low so I didn’t disturb Luka.

My kitchen wasn’t dirty enough to occupy my brain for long. It only took three songs and I’d finished the dishes, wiped the counters and fridge, and began contemplating reorganizing the almost empty cabinets.

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