Page 87 of Owning His Mate

The suggestion pushes my wolf to almost feral levels. We’re not losing our mate because of this woman.

But despite my threat, Hester’s gaze remains locked on my mate. “You have to. If you don’t, you’re going to destroy everything.”

“I like a good riddle,” Sawyer says, “but get to the fucking point.”

Hester’s jaw becomes solid, and her eyes harden. She’s not going to tell us anything, and I don’t know why.

Apryle clearly recognizes the same when she says, “If this involves me, and if you care about me at all, you will give me the tools I need to protect myself.”

Hester closes her eyes, and I can see the torment rippling across her face. She doesn’t want to divulge whatever secrets she is holding close to her chest, and that pisses me off. Apryle has the right to know what is going on and why this female wants her to run.

I’ve seen magic do a lot of things. Being here at the compound, surrounded by tau wolves, I’ve seen more than most, so I don’t doubt visions are real, but that doesn’t mean we have to blindly listen.

“You’re right. I do owe you this. And clearly, keeping secrets isn’t doing anything other than allowing the wrong people to gain power.” Hester closes her eyes, a ripple of pain working over her face. “I was born a really long time ago. Like, areallylong time ago. My parents are Revna and Torsten.”

The silence that spreads between us is suffocating. My gaze bounces around the room, trying to see if anyone else thinks this female is insane.

“You look pretty good for someone claiming to be over a thousand years old,” Sawyer remarks. “You’re going to have to share your skincare routine, because I can’t even see one wrinkle on your face.” He pats his neck under his chin. “I’m starting to get jowly.”

Roux elbows him in the ribs, shooting a glare at him like he’s a naughty pup, interrupting his elders.

“I know it sounds insane, and if I didn’t know it to be the truth, I wouldn’t believe me either, but it is true. My mother, Revna, was a Seidh—what our people thought of as witches. She was strong… Always so strong, until she methim.”

The derision with which she says that last part tells me Hester isn’t the keenest fan of her father.

“I’m just not buying what you’re selling,” Sawyer tells her, and I have to agree with him. Just because she says something is true doesn’t make it so. “I mean, nobody lives a thousand years or more. It’s not biologically possible.”

“No, it’s not possible for humans, but I’m not human. I’m Seidh, at least partly. I also have Torsten’s DNA.” Again with the bitterness.

Do you believe her?Apryle asks through our bond.

I don’t know.I hate to admit that to her, and I want to reassure her more than anything, but I won’t lie to her.

If there is eventhe remotest possibility of any truth behind what she’s saying, I have to take her claims seriously. This information could impact my mate.

“So witches live longer?” Dove asks.

“Seidh do, yes.” Her eyebrows draw together in consternation. “It’s complicated. Seidh draw their power from nature. They give up part of themselves to become one with elemental forces, and those magics are what extends the lifeblood of powerful Seidh. Over time, those powers have been smothered, reduced, watered down.”

I think back to what Apryle said about Revna’s magic when she woke up from her dreamwalking.

It came up from the ground itself.

My brain is overwhelmed with what she’s saying, but I’m interested to know where we come from and why. Growing up, I always saw my shifting as a curse, something that made me different from everyone else, and I wanted to be normal—whatever that is.

Knowing there’s a reason I’m the way I am would go a long way to healing some of those old wounds.

“Because of hybrids,” Halle fills in.

“In part. Seidh are not meant to exist. They are rare because of the things they have to do to become entwined with the earth.”

“Like what?” This question comes from Jackson.

“Too much to explain. My mother was one of the greatest of her kind to ever exist, but she was also a very difficult person. She loved Torsten deeply, but those feelings were not reciprocated. She was a young woman, in love with a man who could not care less about her. Torsten was already one of the most powerful men in our society, but he always wanted more, and he thought that my mother could give him something that would enable him to be stronger than any other Jarl out there. He used her to get what he wanted.”

“Her magic,” Halle surmises.

Hester nods. “The story about the pelt isn’t a story. It’s what really happened. Times back then were turbulent, wars werefought over next to nothing, and men were ambitious. My father was no different from any other male at the time. He wanted the biggest armies and to be the most powerful, and he saw my mother could do that for him. So she created the pelt. It was infused with magic that would allow him to change into a wolf when he was wearing it. He defeated many armies, became feared among his enemies, and he used my mother to ensure he would continue to have access to stronger magic.”

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