Page 23 of Night with a Gamma
“Easy for you to say,” Wyatt mutters, his lips quirking into a smile despite his exhaustion. “You’re not the one who has to face her wrath.”
I glance at Dalton, who is watching the exchange with mild amusement. “Wren’s coven will be arriving soon,” Harrison informs him. “We’ll need rooms ready unless they want to camp in tents by West Creek.”
I nod, my thoughts already drifting to my coven — a mix of powerful witches, each one unique in their abilities. “They’ll want to stay close together, and blocking off the creek is perfect. We can set up a barrier to ensure their safety.”
Just then, a warrior approaches, his gaze steady as he calls my name. I turn, and my heart skips a beat at the sight of my mother, Agatha, the coven leader and High Priestess, flanked by a group of six others. I step forward, excitement bubbling within me. “Mom!” I exclaim, rushing to embrace her. The warmth of her presence envelops me as she pulls me into a tight hug.
“I’m glad to see you, my dear,” she whispers, her voice smooth like the flowing waters of our sacred waterfall. Her eyes flicker toward Harrison, and I feel a rush of nerves as I realize this is the moment I introduce them. “This is Harrison,” I say, squeezing his large hand tightly. “He’s?—”
“Your mate,” Agatha interrupts, her tone sharp yet laced with curiosity. She studies Harrison for a moment, her expression softening slightly. “I wasn’t happy when I found out that my daughter was mated to a wolf, but…” She trails off, her gaze locking onto the connection between us. “I can see your aura glows when you’re near her.”
Harrison shifts slightly, a hint of nervousness creeping into his posture, but he stands tall beside me. As my mother pulls back, she looks at him with a mix of scrutiny and acceptance. “Just don’t screw it up,” she adds, a playful glint in her eye.
“Mom, please,” I murmur, feeling my cheeks heat. Harrison chuckles, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, pulling me gently against him. I melt into his side, comforted by his strength.
“Now,” my mother says, her tone growing serious as she glances around the gathering crowd, “we need to speak privately. Alpha Wyatt, you should be there as well.”
With a nod, Wyatt leads the way to his office in the packhouse, the tension hanging in the air thicker than before. I can feel my heart thumping against my ribcage, a mix of anticipation and dread swirling inside me. Once inside, Wyatt hangs up his cell phone, having just spoken to Octavia.
“Priestess Agatha,” he says, his tone respectful yet cautious as he makes the introductions. “What do you need to speak about since I’m guessing it’s business, not friendly chatter?”
My mom takes a deep breath, her eyes scanning the room. “I recognize the magical tracer left behind on the battlefield,” she states, and I feel my stomach churn. I realize, with a sinkingfeeling, that I should have noticed it myself. “It’s tied to my oldest daughter, Lenore.”
My heart drops at the mention of Lenore. She’s been missing for years after her mate rejected her, plunging her into despair. Mom continues, her voice steady but heavy with emotion. “The heartbreak turned her dark. She left the coven, and we haven’t heard from her since.”
“Oh, no,” I whisper, my knees feeling weak. Harrison’s grip tightens around my waist, anchoring me as the weight of my mother’s words settles in. “I should have known the signature. I’m so sorry.”
Wyatt speaks up, his voice calm and reassuring. “Wren, you can’t blame yourself for not recognizing something that was hidden. I’m just glad we know one of the players in this messed-up game.”
Mom nods in agreement. “The darkness and apparitions we’ve been fighting — they’re just sent by Lenore to scout our weaknesses. The real fight will come later.”
Her words send a shiver down my spine. Fear grips my heart, and I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “What do we do?” I ask, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing down on me.
My mother’s gaze sharpens, her voice firm. “We prepare. I had a premonition of three main players in this. Lenore is one, but there are two more — the familiar foe and another we have yet to identify.”
I glance around the room, meeting the eyes of my friends and allies, and wonder if I’m strong enough to help keep them all safe. The thought of failure hangs heavy in the air, but I refuse to crumble under the weight of it all. “We’ll find a way,” I say, determination lacing my voice. “Together, we can face whatever comes.”
13
THE PLAYERS IN THIS GAME
Wren
The atmospherein Wyatt’s office shifts, the air thick with a resolve that binds us together. I can sense the collective strength of the Waterton Pack surging alongside my coven’s magic. We are here for a reason — to confront the darkness threatening our lives, our loved ones, and our very way of existence.
“Agatha,” Wyatt says, breaking the silence that lingers like a heavy fog, “do you have any idea who the other two players might be?”
Agatha shakes her head slowly, her brow furrowing in concentration. “The familiar foe is someone within your pack. I have my suspicions, but we need more information. As for the third, it’s someone I cannot yet identify — a friendly foe who has been watching us from the shadows.”
Harrison shifts beside me, his body radiating tension. “A traitor in our pack?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s a hard pill to swallow.”
I nod, feeling the unease ripple through the room. “What if we set up wards to detect any malicious magic? We can usemy coven’s energy to strengthen the barriers around the pack’s borders. If anyone tries to infiltrate,” I suggest, “we’ll know.”
Wyatt considers my proposal, his gaze flicking between Agatha and me. “That might work. We can fortify our defenses while you’re here with your coven.”
“High Priestess, do you think Lenore will come after us directly?” I ask, my voice tinged with worry. “Or will she continue to send her apparitions?”
Mom’s eyes narrow, the weight of her knowledge weighing heavily on her. “I believe she will test our strength first. She’s fallen to the dark, but still cunning and strategic. If she senses weakness, she’ll strike when we least expect it.”
