Page 47 of Mate Night Snack
"They vanished into the spaces between worlds. Trapped in the Veil's darker corners, neither alive nor dead." Twyla's voice carried grief older than the mountains. "And their wolves? Most of them broke completely. Some left town, couldn't bear the memories. Others..." She trailed off, shaking her head.
"Others what?"
"Others became exactly what Ashwin wanted them to become. Violent. Bitter. Easy to recruit or destroy." Twyla pulled her hand back and wrapped it around her teacup again. "That's his real goal, you see. Not just the girls, though he feeds on their magic. It's the corruption of good wolves that truly sustains him."
Katniss felt sick. The tea that had tasted like comfort now sat heavy in her stomach. "Emmett's different, though. He's not like the others."
"No, he's not." Twyla smiled, but it was edged with something fierce. "Emmett Hollowell carries guilt like other men carry wallets, but his heart's still clean. Still chooses mercy over vengeance, even when it costs him everything. That's what makes him dangerous to someone like Ashwin."
"Dangerous how?"
"Because Emmett proves that wolves can change. That violence isn't inevitable. That there's another way to be strong." Twyla leaned forward, her eyes intense. "If Ashwin can break him, corrupt him, turn him into a monster? That sends a message to every supernatural creature in these mountains. But if Emmett stands firm, if he chooses love over fear..."
"It proves Ashwin's philosophy is wrong," Katniss finished.
"Exactly." Twyla sat back with satisfaction. "That's why you're different from the others. You're not just bait anymore. You're the test."
Katniss stared down at her notebook, at the symbols she'd sketched from dreams and visions. The jagged triangle inside a circle, the three slash marks, the runes that seemed to shift when she wasn't looking directly at them. "These symbols I've been seeing. They're not random, are they?"
"Show me."
Katniss turned the notebook around, pointing to the clearest drawing. Twyla sucked in a sharp breath, her face going pale beneath her sun-kissed complexion.
"Where did you see this?"
"Dreams. Visions. I found a locket with this symbol near the lake." Katniss traced the lines with her finger. "What does it mean?"
"It's a claiming mark. Old magic, the kind that binds souls across death itself." Twyla's voice was barely audible. "Ashwin's been marking his victims, keeping pieces of them even after they're gone. Their magic, their memories, their pain, all of it tied to him through blood and shadow."
"The girls who disappeared... they're still connected to him?"
"Worse than that." Twyla's hands trembled as she reached for something in her apron pocket. She pulled out a small mirror, its surface dark and reflective as black water. "Look."
Katniss peered into the glass and gasped. Instead of her own reflection, she saw faces. Pale, translucent, mouths open in silent screams. Mabel Dorsey, her red coat torn and faded. Eliza, the girl from the '94 journal. Others she didn't recognize, all of them reaching toward the surface as if trapped beneath ice.
"They're still aware," Twyla whispered. "Still suffering. That's how he's been able to track every seer who's come here since.They call to their sisters through the Veil, trying to warn them but unable to break free of his hold."
Katniss jerked back from the mirror, her heart pounding. "That's horrible."
"It's an abomination." Twyla tucked the mirror away with hands that shook. "I've been watching for thirty years, waiting for someone strong enough to break this cycle. Someone whose magic could stand against his, whose love could heal those old wounds."
"You think I'm that someone?"
"I think you're the first seer to make it this far without losing herself." Twyla reached across the table again, this time grasping both of Katniss's hands. "Every other girl ran when she learned the truth about her wolf. About the violence in his past, the blood on his hands. But you... you looked at Emmett's scars and saw strength, not shame."
Katniss thought about the moment in the forest clearing when she'd kissed the old wound on Emmett's shoulder. She'd felt his pain like an echo in her bones, but also his resilience, his determination to be better than his worst moments.
"What if I'm not strong enough?" she asked quietly.
"Then we'll all find out together." Twyla squeezed her hands gently. "But I don't think that's going to happen. You've got something the others didn't."
"What's that?"
Twyla smiled. "You've got a wolf who's willing to fight for you instead of just protecting you. And that makes all the difference."
The bell above the door chimed softly, and Katniss looked up to see Emmett stepping into the café. His hair was tousled from sleep, his flannel rumpled, and there were worry lines around his storm-gray eyes that hadn't been there the night before. His night must have been just as rough as hers.
Their eyes met across the room, and something tight in her chest loosened. He didn't look angry, just relieved. Just glad to see her safe and whole and sitting in a booth with Twyla instead of wandering into danger alone.
