Page 68 of Fated Exile

"It all came to a boiling point one day when Beck found out his wolves had been coming to the coven. My grandmother—your great-grandmother—was in the market that day, setting up her booth." Kerry's voice goes quiet and sad as she says, "The alpha showed up in a rage, and he shifted into his wolf form. Running through the rows of market stalls, he destroyed them with his teeth and claws. He was single-minded, full of anger. When he was done, he told the coven to never approach his people again, to sell nothing to the pack, and vowed to string up any witch who aided them by her fingers and cut her head off. Needless to say, we obeyed."

I shiver. "I didn't know the witches had ever had a market. When we go to them these days, it's usually just one stray werewolf going to one witch, if that. Most of them are travelers, too—none stay on the territory for long."

"That's because alphas like that ruined what little relationship our people still had. It used to be that we intermarried freely. Wolf mates made powerful witches, and we gave the pack our boys, to raise as human warriors. By the time I'd come into my own, the coven was depleted so thoroughly that I was the only weaver witch left."

"I wish it could be different. Maybe now that I'm alpha, it can be. We'll both grow strong together."

"I'd like that, my girl." Kerry sighs, then shakes her melancholy off with a smile. "To get back to your original answer—I think that just by asking about the line between good and evil, justified and not, you're showing that you care enough to stay on the right side of things. Just make sure that no matter what you do, you never let dark means justify the ends. Only turn to dark magic when you have no other choice, and only to save and preserve life."

Remembering that moment in the Mating Circle, when I stole John deLance's will and felt a heavy darkness stain my soul, I nod resolutely. "I'll keep that in mind, no matter what. The last thing I want is to let magic change me into someone I don't recognize."

"I won't let that happen," she vows. "But what Iwilldo is show you how to use magic to become the best version of yourself. Do you trust me?"

Inexplicably, I tell her, "Yes."

Not just because she's given me no reason not to, or because she came to me wearing my own face, echoing the mother I never got to know. I trust her because she's given me answers I've desperately needed, and guidance I didn't know I was lacking. Now I'm going to trust her to help me lead my pack into the future.

"The first spell we're going to work on will be smaller than the transport charm," Kerry says, pushing up from the ground and pacing towards the window. I scramble after her, taking my mug of coffee and downing the last of the lukewarm brew. "I'm going to show you how to capture a tiny bit of sunlight in a glass container. A jar will do, or a lightbulb. Anything that's clear and contained—I don't suggest plastic, as it has a tendency to melt."

She hands me a small jar, and I take it, setting the now-empty mug down on the windowsill. The jar feels awkward in my hand; I recognize it as an old lotion jar from the bathroom, with the label peeled off. It's sticky where my fingers press against it.

"I'll demonstrate the spell for you. It's a simple capture, focus, and target spell, so most of the magic is done with the incantation." Kerry grabs a small jar of her own which looks suspiciously close to a jam jar I threw in the recycling the other day and holds it up to the window, the jar's lid loosely held in her free hand. "Sunlight, sun bright, come with me into the night."

The words are simply and easily said, her tongue and voice letting a subtle sing-song leak into them. As soon as the last bit of the wordnightleaves her lips, the sunlight streaming through the window flares to life around the jar. Kerry hastily cups it upward like she's catching flowing water in its emptiness, then clamps the lid down on it and screws it tight.

At first it doesn't look like anything much has happened. Then Kerry steps out of the window, cradling the jar in the shadow of the bookcase, her hand cupping it. She angles her body towards me so that I can see the light, ethereal glow that inhabits the jar, pulsing like the light of a firefly.

"It's only enough for a few minutes once it's captured, but this is a neat trick to have on hand if you don't have a flashlight nearby. The spell is the first capture spell we teach young witches—the only bad thing that can happen if you fail at it is the sunlight slipping away, and it'll do that anyway." She grabs the lid with her hand and twists it once, twice, then yanks it off. "And it's a marvelous party trick."

As the jar opens beneath her fingers, sunlight streams upward through the open lid. Kerry tilts her head back and closes her eyes, the warm caress of the light flaring against her quiet face. It splashes across the ceiling and floor, chasing away the shadows for a moment—but only for a moment, because as soon as the light comes, it's gone again.

"Now you try," Kerry says, pushing me towards the window. "Do it successfully five times, and we can upgrade to something a bit more complex, like an energy spell. If you're studious, we may be able to make the traveler's charm by this afternoon."

The hours between then and now stretch out in my mind, and I get the sense that Kerry doesn't intend to let me slack off for even a single second.

Even though the only thing I want to do right now is run away and throw myself into my mates' arms to enjoy the warmth that connects us now, I resist the impulse. Instead, I turn towards the window, open up the jar, and work my mouth around the spell my aunt just taught me.

There'll be time for fun later.

Right now, I have to become the powerful wolf-witch hybrid my pack desperately needs.

Twenty-Seven

Delilah

Hours later, my stomach feels like it's chewing away at pieces of me, and I swear I think my hair has lost some of its luster and sheen from all this spellwork. But Kerry is as bright and energetic as she was this morning, and I don't feel like I can step back from learning now. We're on the precipice, I can feel it—and as soon as I'm good enough to master this energy spell, I'll be able to move on to the next step.

"That's it, channel your frustration," Kerry says, pacing around me as I focus on thrusting my little remaining energy into the tips of my fingers and pressing it downward onto the cinderblock she helpfully found leftover from the house renovations. "You have within you aninfiniteamount of energy, especially now that you're connected to your mates—fivefated mates, I might add—as well as your pack and its territory. All you have to do to break the cinderblock open is concentrate that energy and focus it outward."

So far she's had me do this on a piece of cardboard, a thin wooden panel, two dowels, and a chipped vase. The cinderblock is the biggest, densest target, and by far the hardest. I'm not allowed to put my weight on it or thrust my fingers down at all. The only part of me that I'm allowed to move is the inner me, the energy that flows within me and can be pushed out through even my pinky finger.

Too bad for both of us that energy is completely depleted now, and it's barely even noon.

"Concentrate," Kerry insists, her voice low and quiet as she kneels beside me to stare at the cruelly whole cinderblock. "If you find yourself coming to the bottom of the well within you, just know that isn't all of it. There's always more water to the well. The key is to tap in deeper."

I want to, but I'm afraid the well is dry and very, very hungry.

At that thought, I feel a ripple of warmth in the back of my mind. It takes a moment for me to recognize the consciousness, its flavor like a burst of citrus on the back of my tongue. Finn is nearby, and with his nearness, he's able to sense everything I'm feeling. All my tiredness, frustration, and fear of inadequacy leaks out of me before I can stop it.

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