Page 112 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

“Sorry, rugrat,” he said.

“Though Clyde has remained unconscious,” I said, “we could deal him a much worse fate by trying to transform him. We could turn him into a monster.”

“But you changed Walker,” Cadence argued. “If anyone can save him, it’s you, Freya.”

Pressure and fear built in my chest.

“Dad wouldn’t want to lay in a bed the rest of his life,” Walker said softly. “Like you said, nothing else has helped. I think transforming him is worth a shot.”

I studied the furrow between his brow and the soft sparks of hope brimming in his gaze. Cadence stared at me like I could grant her heart’s greatest desire. Every day Clyde laid in that bed was another day of disappointment for the Reid siblings.

My voice was small. “We can try.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Walker

After agreeing to meet us at the apartments later, Ryder shifted into his wolf form and jetted into the forest toward the wolves’ territory. He wanted to warn his pack of our plans to strike against the High Witch. As he bounded out of sight, Freya did not move. She stared at seemingly nothing at all, and her gaze lacked its usual fire. I tried to squash my concern.

“Freya?” I asked. “Shouldn’t we get going?”

She snapped back into the present and forced a smile.

“Right,” she agreed. “Arion, shift.”

As Arion transformed into a majestic black stallion, Cady eyed Freya.

“Are you good, Coven Mother?” she asked.

Freya shook herself. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? Let’s go.”

I wanted to press her on the issue, but it wasn't my place. We climbed onto Arion’s back and raced across the mountain, to the apartments. The cold stole my breath, but the ride lasted only seconds. We pulled to a stop in the grassy training field behind the towering, black apartments. I leaped off Arion on shaky legs and helped my sister back to her own two feet. As soon as Freya dismounted, Arion shrank into a calico cat.

Together, we approached the apartments. The moon hung high in the sky, though clouds blocked its shine. Short, ornate streetlights lit a path outside the buildings, but one’s light was burned out.

Right,I thought,I did that.

Though I wasn’t a master of magic, somewhere along our journey, I had stopped hating the power that brimmed under my skin. I had even become grateful for its ability to protect those I loved rather than loathe it for its capacity to do harm.

I hoped Dad would grow to feel the same about his newfound power.

As we walked toward the eastern apartment, where the medical wing was, I couldn’t help but notice how the lighting highlighted the dark circles under Freya’s eyes.

“You’re feeling up to this?” I asked.

She pointed toward the nearly full moon. “That will strengthen the spell in a way the sun will not.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” I argued. “You shouldn’t attempt something so major without plenty of power.”

The last time Freya transformed a man into a warlock, the spell had left her completely and utterly drained. If she was going to attempt the spell again, she at least needed to be at peak strength.

“I’m fine,” Freya assured me.

From between the apartment complexes, Gloria approached. The Elder was dressed in her velvet robes and wore a puzzled frown. She clasped her wrinkled hands in front of her.

“Is it done?” Gloria asked. “Did you deliver the creature to the High Witch?”

Cady grimaced. “Kinda?”

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