Page 30 of Cursed Bonds: An Alpha's Destiny

Something about the place spoke to me instantly. My skin tingled, and the thick scent of incense brought out a weird nostalgia. Part of me had the strangest sense that I’d come home. Dazed, I moved toward some of the items in the shop, my fingertips seeming to crackle with energy as I approached a display of crystals and stones.

The warm air in the shop became entrancing, like a blanket suffocating the cold. I could hear the blood pumping through my veins, a steady whoosh-whoosh that was much louder than it should have been. One stone in particular caught my eye, a dark, polished opal. Black, but with rainbow hues that shot through the center and arced to the outer edges. At the sight of that stone, everything else in the shop practically vanished from sight. It was as though I stood alone in a pitch-black room, only me and the stone. Unbidden, my hand raised and moved toward the rock, fingers trembling and feeling like static electricity was running across the tips.

“Merry met, my lady,” a voice said from behind me.

An explosive gasp erupted from my lips. The spell of the stone shattered, catapulting me back to reality. I whirled around, hand to my chest, to find a woman perhaps ten or fifteen years older than me. She was smiling at me.

“Uh, morning, hi. I was just—”

“The black opal?” the woman said, one eyebrow arching elegantly. “That is a very interesting stone.”

My initial surprise had faded, and I managed to clear my throat and pull myself together. “Sorry. I was just looking.”

The smile on the woman’s face widened, and a knowing look lit up her eyes. “More than looking, it seems. That’s no ordinary stone, and I don’t think you’re an ordinary woman.” She gestured toward the stone. “You must be something special for the stone to call out to you like that. The black opal can only be used by someone with the power to match what is held within it. Not everyone can wield the energy in that stone.”

“Oh,” I said dumbly. “I didn’t know that.”

She circled around the counter and leaned her elbows on the glass case, studying me. “What generation witch are you?”

The question, so forward, caught me off-guard. “Uh, I’m…” I chuckled, and even in my own ears, I sounded panicked. “I’m not a witch.”

If my answer confused her, the woman made no show of it. Instead, she put her hand out. “My name is Tinsley.”

I took her hand. Her skin was cool and smooth, almost like a doctor’s hand. “I’m Kirsten.”

“Nice to meet you, and yes,” Tinsley said, still eyeing me, sizing me up, “Kirsten, you are a witch.”

The smile on my face faltered, and I pulled my hand away. Suddenly, the store became too claustrophobic, too strange. The air was heavy, making it hard to breathe. I never should have come here. It all seemed like a big waste of time. This woman was probably a trained saleswoman. I bet she told every person who came in here that they had some kind of magic power or ability, all to sell them a rock. Something she’d purchased for fifty cents, but sold for fifty dollars.

Why am I even here?

“You are here,” Tinsley said, “because you need answers and clarity.”

I took a step back, putting a hand to my chest. “Did—did you just…” I thought about it, trying to remember if I’d said those words out loud or if they really had only been in my mind. “Did you hear my thoughts?” I asked, my lips numb with shock as I spoke.

Tinsley gave me a sad smile, but it was full of warmth. “Would you like some tea?”

“That would be great,” I croaked. My throat felt inexplicably dry.

She turned and vanished through a beaded curtain into the rear of the shop, leaving me alone to try and comprehend what was happening. When she returned a few minutes later, I’d taken a seat on a large, thick pouf that sat in front of a table displaying multiple decks of tarot cards.

“Thank you,” I said as I took the cup of steaming tea.

Tinsley sat across from me on another pouf, a cup in her hand as well. “You seem distraught.”

“You could say that.”

“I take it you’ve only just come to know your powers?”

“I don’t have any powers,” I said, trying my best to keep my hand from trembling and spilling tea on her rug. “Not that I know of,” I added desperately. “Honestly, I’m terrified. I found out yesterday that the woman who raised me might be… um, I guess she was a witch. And that sounds crazy.”

“Well, that is the first thing you’re wrong about,” Tinsley said. “No need to be afraid. Embrace the unknown, don’t fear it. Second, you most definitely do have powers. I can sense them inside you. I could actually feel you walk in the door. It’s strange, though,” she added with a hint of a grin. “Very rare. There’s a smell to magic that only other magical beings can detect. Shifters and witches. Yours is interesting.”

I took a sip of tea, the scalding liquid filling my mouth with heat and moisture. “What’s so interesting about it?”

“I’m assuming you don’t know about the types of witches?”

“Types? There are types?”

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