Page 24 of The Witch and The Blood Oath

“I’ll go,” Cadence volunteered. “I’m not scared of the wolves.”

Lyra stepped to Gloria’s side and smiled fondly at my sister. “Of course not.”

“I’m going,” I said. “This is my mess.”

“Our mess,” Freya corrected and tucked a stray curl behind her ear, “but, are you sure? Ryder loves to get a rise out of you.”

And you throw magical tantrums when you’re angry,she didn’t add.

I nodded. “I’m sure.”

I stared into Freya’s eyes and hoped she heard what I didn’t say.

I won’t let you down again. I won’t let any of you down.

“Alright,” Freya conceded and addressed her coven. “Walker and I go alone. We don’t know the extent of Ryder’s involvement, but he’s never been a good liar. If he suspected why I tracked him, he would’ve let something slip. I don’t think he’s dangerous.”

“He’s a wolf backed into a corner,” one of the Elders argued.

“He’s an old friend,” Freya disagreed.

“Josephine was far more than a friend,” a witch sniped. “Look where that faith got us.”

Freya flinched, and I fought the urge to take her hand. “And the werewolves were there to help us end her. Paranoia will only breed further dissent. Now, we must get going.”

Freya turned her back on her coven and headed east, toward werewolf territory. I quickly fell into stride beside her.

“Walker!” Cadence cried.

I paused, and Freya mirrored the motion.

“Be careful,” my sister pleaded.

“I will be,” I promised her.

I meant every word. Though guilt fought to eclipse my thoughts, I wouldn’t allow it to. I couldn’t. I had one shot at redemption for both myself and the ones I loved, and I wouldn’t let it slip through my fingers.

I wouldn’t let my magic wreck us all.

Freya and I walked deeper into the woods. Trees crowded us, and little moonlight guided our path. We didn’t follow a trail, so I carefully placed each step. The last thing I needed was to roll an ankle on the way to meet a werewolf.

“Listen to your magic,” Freya advised. “It can guide you.”

She trekked across the rocky mess of a terrain in her usual graceful fashion. Her steps easily avoided any stray logs, thick roots, or dips in the ground.

“I’m sort of trying to keep it quiet,” I said, “not encourage it to get involved.”

Freya sighed. “I think that’s part of the problem. You can’t control magic with fear.”

I bristled. She had every right to chastise me, but it still stung.

“You’re one to talk about fear,” I muttered.

Freya glared at me. I almost smiled. I might have the temper issues now, but one quick, always-effective way to piss off Freya was to imply she wasn’t the bravest, most perfectly fearless witch in all the land.

“What is that supposed to be mean?” she snapped.

I shrugged, and, as I predicted, it only angered her more.

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