Page 14 of Season of the Wolf

“Whoever we call in to assist … we’ll have to invite them into our home, Hilda,” she said gravely. “And Maisy? I’m not sure I can do that. Not after what she did to me, my family. What she took from us? The havoc she caused?”

There were more shuffling steps, and then silence.

“She cursed me, Hilda,” Elise admitted through quiet sobs. “She’s the reason our bloodline is on the verge of dying off.”

“But it’snotdead,” was Hilda’s thoughtful reply. “Evangeline pushed her way into existence despite Maisy’s curse.”

“And at what cost?” Elise scoffed. “Thanks to Maisy’s magic, with Evangeline also came the Liberator.

Hilda had no response.

“And here we are again, back in the same cycle of hoping and praying history doesn’t repeat itself. Praying I don’t have to bear the pain of losing my daughter for a second time.”

“Lower your voice,” Hilda urged, but it was too late. I heard it all. Every single word.

“We must keep in mind that Maisy was not acting of her own will in those days. She was under the Sovereign’s rule as his chief witch, and had no choice but to do his bidding. Even if his bidding included cursing the bloodline of his only rival—Noah, my brother.”

“How can you even ask me to consider this, Hilda?” Elise’s voice was strained, quiet.

“I can ask you to consider it because we want those boys back. And you know as well as I do that our backs are against the wall now. So, if you’re sure you want to drop it here, forego the restoral, then I’ll support that decision,” Hilda reasoned. “But … if you want to bring them back … this is what we must do.”

The air inside the house felt thick, uncomfortable. Knowing it’d come down to this, I identified with Elise’s hopelessness.

“Maybe this is where we’re supposed to stop.” Her French accent was heaviest when her emotions were high, and now I heard it stronger than ever. “What if we’re not meant to tamper with nature any more than we already have? Liam could wake up tomorrow and that alone would give us quite an advantage when things take a turn.”

Hilda’s silence made that strange heaviness in the air so much worse. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with remorse.

And I hated it.

“You love him like a son,” she began, “and I, too, hold the same affection in my heart for him that I do forallmy family … but—”

My ears perked then, listening harder when she said more.

“Things are too dire to continue on like this, Elise, forsaking realism when we’re both aware of the circumstances,” she stated. “He should have awakened by now. I lifted the spell more than a month ago, and yet … he hasn’t moved a muscle. The longer he remains in this way, the bleaker his chance of recovery,” she added. “We must accept the fact that … he maynotrecover.”

My heart sank to the floor and she pushed a knife into it with her final words.

“Elise … Liam is gone.”

No. Absolutely not.

I refused to accept that.

There was no way I’d been sitting beside a dead man all this time. Liam was in there somewhere, lost in the darkness, trying to find his way back to me. I knew he was. Whether anyone else still believed it or not.

Suddenly not caring if Hilda and Elise heard me above them, I stormed down the hall, slamming Liam’s bedroom door behind me, locking it. I stood there, staring at his lifeless body, illuminated by the lamp at his bedside table.

Liam is gone.

I heard Hilda’s voice echoing those words inside my head over and over again, but they simply would not stick. I wouldn’t be left here alone. Even surrounded by other family, friends, without him I would most certainly be alone.

There had to be something. Something I hadn’t thought of, something I hadn’t tried. Searching every corner of his room with my eyes, I came up with nothing. My gaze fell on him again and I felt my heart tugging in his direction. Not the supernatural pull I’d gotten accustomed to, just the longing of a girl so beside herself with love it was almost criminal.

He looked like he was only sleeping. How could she all but pronounce him dead already?

I went to his side, swiping tears with every step.

“Why are you doing this to me?” The question left my mouth on its own, no rational thought backing it. I knew he couldn’t hear me, knew my voice fell on deaf ears, but I couldn’t help it.

---