Page 48 of Season of the Wolf

“So, what are you going to do about it?” Hilda asked, her tone far calmer than mine.

For the first time since I agreed to participate in this parlor trick of hers, I was at a loss for words. Her brow quirked.

“Perhaps I should rephrase,” she amended. “What are youwillingto do about it.”

Again, the response was fluid.

“Anything.”

She stopped there, staring so intensely it was like she lookedthroughme.

“I want Elise to do it,” I went on, unable to stop myself now. “I want her to turn me. I know the process, the pain. I know the risk, but it’s the only way.”

The once stoic look on Hilda’s face was now teeming with emotion—pity, hopelessness.

“She’ll never agree to it and neither will Evangeline,” she countered.

“I don’t need Evangeline’s approval,” I blurted, adding, “Only her forgiveness once it’s done.”

A hypocrite.

That’s what this spell had proven me to be as it drew my truth out into the open. Just yesterday, I’d come down on Evangeline for being in the same self-sacrificing frame of mind. But, when it came to making these sacrifices with her best interest in mind, I felt justified.

And so did she.

We were two sides of the same coin. Our only flaw being our weakness for, and dependence on, one another. Historically speaking, it made us reckless, cruel to anyone who threatened to tear us apart. Our love for one another turned us into our own worst nightmares—a threat to the other’s survival.

I said very little as this realization set in.

Said even less as I accepted the fact that, out of nowhere, a new idea had just been birthed in my subconscious. One that bore dire consequences that, somehow, didn’t even register with me.

All I saw was possibility.

“I won’t endorse this decision,” Hilda said with conviction. “I will not be involved in an act I’m sure will break my niece’s heart. She’s been through enough,” she added, speaking of Evangeline. “There’s no guarantee in what you’re thinking Liam. Elise hasn’t turned anyone using that method in …centuries.”

There was a reason the dragon population paled in comparison to that of the lycans. It went beyond the death tolls racked up by war. It was a matter of logistics. There were limited options for becoming a dragon—you were either born to at least one other dragon, turned by magic, or you were turned by the original.

Seeing as how magic was off the table because it went against the rules that governed it, my only option was to petition Elise, to ask that she consider an attempt sure to be as painful as it was dangerous.

“It’s what has to be done,” I replied, hearing the resolve from the spell laced in my tone. “I’m damned if I do, damned if I don’t.”

Hilda rose from her seat and my gaze followed as she moved toward the door.

“Just know, I’d speak of this if I weren’t bound to secrecy by magic,” she huffed, bearing a look of frustration at my willingness to risk so much.

“You were right,” she said with her hand on the knob. “Your love for her truly has made you her worst nightmare. She fears nothing more than losing you, and in your anguish, you’ve become your own biggest threat to survival—her nightmare in the flesh.”

The declaration pierced my heart like I was sure it was meant to.

Hilda’s eyes deadpanned to mine and she left me with her final plea. “I beg of you, if you really love that girl … reconsider.”

Chapter Fourteen

Evie

“These things take time. We put in a tall order,” Hilda explained, doing her best to help Elise relax.

“It should have worked by now. The spell should have brought them here within a few days. It’s been a week,” she pointed out. “We’ve left the room sealed like we were supposed to, the spell itself went off without a hitch, and we even took extra precautions.” The crease at the center of her brow deepened. “Something should have happened by now.”

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