Page 122 of Last Gift: Supernatural Battle

“What about it?” I murmured.

“He’s got it bad,” Sascha said, smirking.

“I do have it bad,” Wild admitted. “We’re at the final step.”

There was a communal ahh and dawning comprehension from the other supernaturals.

Andie was beaming. “The best step.”

“And most intense,” Basilia added. “Good luck with that.”

“You’ll be less vulnerable and will gain new power when the mating is complete,” Kyros stated.

By now, I respected that our mating ritual was linked to everything happening. I’d also woken this morning very curious about Wild’s insides and using them how and when I liked, so I wasn’t sure we could go much longer before completing the ritual even if we wanted to.

And I certainly didn’t want to wait much more than a second.

Wild took my hand. “We’ll receive the last gift when we’re meant to.”

The last gift.

I suppose it would be.

31

“Is it a bad time?” Varden asked, nevertheless stepping into the advisory chamber.

“Yes, go away.” I dotted an I on the last outstanding letter. Well, second to last letter. I’d saved one. I banished the letters to Postman Barrow. “That took a while.”

The old esteemed sat a few seats away. “This means good support?”

“More support.” We were up to twenty covens, and half of those had offered magus. With their help with ingredients, Rooke believed we could change our approach and release her antidote in an enormous dome over the smoke-filled ravines. “These caves get busier each week.”

Foreign magus were becoming a constant. If the Vissimo and Luthers weren’t training here, then a force of our magus was training in their vicinities for the day.

“Things are coming together,” he noted.

“Feels like bits are everywhere, but we’re in a better place than we were two and a half weeks ago.”

His face softened. “Just think where this coven will be in another two and a half weeks, High Esteemed.”

“Just Tempest when we’re alone, sir.”

“Tempest,” Varden echoed. “So young to deal with so much. You’re doing a spectacular job, and I am deeply sorry the coven cannot always see that, and sorry Frond attacked your magic. I hope that you never doubt that this coven is worth fighting for.”

“One person doesn’t symbolize an entire group. Frond will get what’s coming to him eventually, whether it’s from me, the coven, or the Mother.”

The crease between Varden’s brow cleared. “You are wise and bold.”

“You believed that I would turn my back on the coven?”

“Not believed, no.” He paused, then said, “Worry has a way of not being grounded in logic. I’ve always rather detested it for that reason. Yet worry I have had over how much adversity our fierce leader would choose to accept.”

Ah. This linked into his sadness that the coven hadn’t united after the ending of Caves. “Like I said a few days ago, I will wear these relics until the coven decides I shouldn’t.”

“I’m not sure they get in the choice of relics, but you refer to that which you sit upon.”

This hard fucking authority. “I do.”

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