Page 29 of Vow Of A Fox

That was the last thing we needed.

Hopefully, Astrid could control him. If not, we might have to find a way to wipe his memory or worse.

Ben parked his truck behind the others and shifted to face me.

“Ready for this?” he asked.

I flashed him a small smile. “Yeah. I hope it works.”

“From what you’ve said, this woman sounds magical. I have no doubt she’ll do what needs to be done.”

The tension coiling through me and my fox eased at his words.

We climbed out of his truck. I watched as Ben moved to grab the cage from the bed. “Is he still out?” I asked.

“Seems to be. Like I said, I’m not sure how long that will last though.”

We headed to where the others stood, waiting for Rachel to head inside and let her aunt know we were here. Before she could, the front door of the cottage swung open and a young woman with silver eyes emerged. Her shoulders sagged with exhaustion, and she looked as though she’d been through hell. Her gaze flicked over her shoulder to Maribel, who stepped onto the stone porch behind her.

“Thank you again,” she said, her voice rough yet filled with heartfelt gratitude.

Maribel nodded. It was a calm gesture but seemed to speak volumes. Without another word, the woman with the silver eyes slinked into the woods and shifter magic bloomed through the night air a second after she vanished.

I stared after her, wondering what she’d sought Maribel out for.

“We have everything you asked for,” Rachel said, pulling my thoughts from the woman and back to the present. “And we’re here with a little time to spare.” There was pride in her tone.

“Follow me,” Maribel said, her voice calm yet commanding, as she gestured for us to follow her into the backyard.

We all followed, not a single one of us speaking. I was pretty sure we all were thinking the same thing—how much we needed this ritual to work.

Maribel led us to a table beside a fire pit. “Someone light a fire,” she instructed, her voice calm but firm, yet still carrying that ethereal tone of hers.

Waylen stepped forward, striking a match and tossing it into the pit. The flames roared to life almost instantly, casting long shadows that danced across everything. The firelight caught Maribel’s sharp eyes as she turned her attention to Ellis.

“Do you have all that I asked for?” she asked.

Ellis stepped forward, holding a backpack.

“I do,” he said, unzipping it and showing her inside. “And Sienna has the feather. Plus, we captured Xander’s raven. Ben sedated him.”

“Good. Close proximity is needed when untangling darkness this deeply rooted,” Maribel insisted. “Set him here.” She pointed to the center of the table.

Ben stepped forward, carrying the cage, and placed it on the table. Ellis set out the items from his backpack—fresh sage from Lyra and her grandmother’s garden, pink Himalayan salt, a jar of water from Crescent Creek, and a jar of soil from Lucius’s grave. I stepped forward and laid the feather on the table beside everything else. Maribel examined each item and then gave a nod of approval. Her lips curved into a faint smile.

“Good work,” she said simply, her attention never wavering from the items in front of her.

The fire crackled, and the air felt heavier, as though even the night knew what sort of magic was about to take place.

Maribel arranged the items in a circle around the cage. Her movements looked fluid and otherworldly. When she spoke, it was in a tone so soft her voice sounded almost melodic. Her words rolled over us all like a wave, powerful and steady, yet impossible to catch. I strained my ears, trying to hear the words she was saying, but the wind seemed to swallow them as soon as they left her lips.

Ben moved closer to me, his hand reaching for mine. He interlaced our fingers and lifted my knuckles to his lips, placinga kiss there. It was a sweet gesture, one that calmed my racing heart.

I was glad he was here—that he was a part of this all.

Of course, dragging him into this mess wasn’t something I’d initially wanted, I was glad things had unfolded the way they had.

Maribel twisted a few of the fresh-cut sage leaves together and then lit the end with a match. Thick smoke billowed from it, more than I thought possible.

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