Page 21 of His Spellbound Mate

Tamzyn looked up at him, her eyes wide with fear and determination. “It’s them,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “My old coven. They’re behind this.”

Neville’s eyes darkened, his expression hardening. “Good. Then you’ll be able to figure out how we can stop them.”

Tamzyn shook her head, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. “No, Neville. This is something I have to do alone. They’re my past, my responsibility. I can’t ask you or your pack to get involved.”

Neville’s grip on her shoulder tightened, his eyes flashing with determination. “You’re not alone in this, Tamzyn. You are my mate; more than that, you are pack. Whether you like it or not, you are no longer alone. I will not allow you to face them by yourself.”

Tears welled in Tamzyn’s eyes at the sincerity in his voice, at the unwavering support he was offering her. She had spent so long trying to keep people at arm’s length, trying to protect herself from getting hurt again, but Neville was breaking down those walls, showing her that she didn’t have to carry the burden alone.

She nodded slowly, her heart heavy with a mix of fear and gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Neville leaned in, his forehead resting against hers in a gesture of comfort and solidarity. “We’ll face them, and we’ll win. Whatever it takes.”

Tamzyn closed her eyes, drawing strength from his presence, from the bond they shared. She knew the road ahead would be difficult, that confronting her past would bring pain and danger. But with Neville by her side, she felt a glimmer of hope—a hope that they could overcome the darkness, that they could emerge from this stronger, together.

As they rose to their feet, the pack members gathered around them, their expressions serious but determined. Tamzyn could feel the unity among them, the sense of purpose that had brought them together. They were ready to fight, ready to stand by her side in the battle that was to come.

And for the first time in years, Tamzyn didn’t feel alone. She had found a new family, a new home, and she was ready to fight for it, to protect it with everything she had.

As they prepared to confront the darkness, to face the coven that had betrayed her, Tamzyn knew one thing for certain: she was no longer running from her past. She was ready to face it, to confront it head-on, and to reclaim the power that had been taken from her.

Chapter Eleven

Tamzyn

Tamzyn stood at the center of the remains of the charred ritual circle—it still smoldered with the acrid scent of burned earth and dark magic. Her senses hummed with the residual energy that clung to the place like a stain, but she could feel her own strength rising. It felt more alive, more powerful, and more under her control than ever before. The ground beneath her feet pulsed with a malevolent force, a twisted echo of the ritual that had taken place there.

She could feel it calling out, reaching for her, as if recognizing the magic that ran through her veins. Tamzyn closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath as she focused on the energy around her, letting it seep into her awareness. The magic was dark, familiar, and it made her stomach twist with a mixture of fear and anger. She knew whose work this was, even before the name formed on her lips.

Isolde.

Isolde, an elder who had been one of those who had demanded she be banished. Isolde, who with this dark magic had to have betrayed her coven, and who must have manipulated and twisted the minds of those who had once been Tamzyn’s family. Isolde must have believed she could seize her mother’s place and power unchecked once her only daughter was gone. Isolde, who must have sought to break Tamzyn’s mother through the anguish of losing her only child.

The realization that Isolde was behind this filled Tamzyn with a cold, hard rage. She had been the one who had demanded Tamzyn be banished for trying to shapeshift. It was now apparent that she had been shapeshifting in order to gather the power she needed. The betrayal that had shattered her life and the darkness that had tainted her past had all led to this moment. Isolde had been working in the shadows, building her power, and now she was here, in Silver Ridge, threatening everything Tamzyn had come to care about.

Tamzyn’s hands clenched into fists at her sides, her nails digging into her palms as she channeled her own magic, letting it rise within her like a storm. She was no longer the frightened girl who had been cast out of her home. She was stronger now, more powerful, and she would not let Isolde destroy everything she had fought to rebuild.

“Isolde!” Tamzyn’s voice rang out, strong and commanding as she called forth her magic, challenging the power that still lingered in the circle. “I know you’re here! Show yourself!”

The wind picked up, whipping through the clearing with unnatural force, carrying with it the scent of ozone and the promise of violence. The air crackled with energy as Tamzyn’s magic clashed with the remnants of the ritual, and for a moment, it seemed as if the very ground beneath her feet might split open.

Then, with a deafening crack, a figure appeared at the edge of the circle, materializing out of thin air. Isolde. The elder witch stood tall and imposing, her silver hair whipping around her like a storm, her eyes glowing with the dark power she wielded. Her presence was suffocating, a weight that pressed down on Tamzyn’s chest, but she did not waver.

“So, the little witch thinks to challenge me,” Isolde sneered, her voice dripping with disdain. “I thought I’d gotten rid of you for good, Tamzyn. But I see you’ve grown stronger in your exile.”

Tamzyn’s heart pounded, but she kept her expression cold, refusing to show any fear. “You should have finished what you started, Isolde. You underestimated me then, and you’re underestimating me now.”

Isolde’s eyes narrowed, and with a flick of her wrist, she sent a bolt of lightning streaking toward Tamzyn, the air sizzling with the force of the attack. Tamzyn reacted instinctively, raising her hand and summoning a barrier of magic that deflected the bolt and sent it crashing into the trees behind her.

The sound of the explosion echoed through the forest, but Tamzyn didn’t flinch. Her focus was entirely on Isolde, on the power that radiated from the elder witch like a dark sun. Isolde was strong, stronger than Tamzyn remembered, but Tamzyn was no longer the scared girl who had been cast out of her home. She was ready for this fight.

Another bolt of lightning arced toward her, this time aimed at Neville and the pack members who had spread out around the clearing, ready to defend her. Tamzyn’s heart lurched, fear for Neville spiking through her, but she acted quickly, raising a shield that absorbed the impact of the lightning before it could reach them.

Neville’s gaze met hers across the clearing. He could tell how powerful Isolde was, but he knew this fight was Tamzyn’s. She could see the tension in his stance, the barely restrained urge to shift and fight beside her. She gave him a small, reassuring nod, silently telling him that she could handle this.

Isolde’s laughter cut through the air, cold and mocking. “So protective of your new friends, Tamzyn. But they won’t save you. No one will.”

Tamzyn’s anger flared, and she took a step forward, her magic surging in response. “I don’t need saving, Isolde. But you—you're going to wish you had stayed in the shadows where you belong.”

---