Page 57 of The Witch's Spell
“That’s enough,” I tell Thorne, voice low.
He flicks his pale eyes to me, then nods once. As he lowers his hand, the gale-force winds calm, leaving the clearing quiet—no more snarling or snapping, no more screaming. All is silent.
Behind Thorne, Rowan stands with his mouth slightly open, green eyes wide. Even the three hens gathered about his feet are staring.
Everyone knows now, even Cathal and Orla. Thorne’s secret is out.
But I can’t focus on that now.
My gaze returns to the wolves. They stand on quaking legs, bodies heaving with exertion and likely pain. And below them, their blood drips slowly into what remains of the snow, with most of it having been flung away by Thorne’s sharp blast.
I step toward them. Alden reaches for me, but I twist my arm away at the last moment, preventing him from capturing me once more. Then I’m stalking forward, my fear and shock draining away into one overwhelming emotion: rage.
“Howdareyou,” I whisper, voice trembling. My gaze flicks between the two matching pairs of blue eyes. At my sides, my hands begin to tremble. I grasp my thick winterskirt to hold them steady. “What is the matter with you? Withbothof you!”
Faolan isn’t innocent in this. Cathal may have poked the bear, but it was Faolan who decided to take the bait, to bite the hand and try to tear it clean from the wrist.
“Aren’t we struggling enough?” I continue. “Aren’t we all having a bad-enough time without the two of you acting this way?”
There’s movement to my right, and my eyes shift to Orla. She stops in her tracks. “And you. You were the only one who could’ve stepped in, who could’ve tried to stop this. But you juststoodthere. And you came here today knowing this could happen.”
Orla’s yellow eyes darken. “It needed to happen.” She stands up straighter, giving me a look that I imagine would send her pack members scurrying with tails between their legs.
But she’s not my alpha. And this ismyhome.
I stomp right up to her, tip my head back to look her in her eyes, and say, “Leave. And take your mate with you. Neither of you are welcome at my home anymore.”
A brief flicker of surprise goes through her eyes, but I turn away before waiting to hear what she has to say.
“Faolan, inside,now.”
He growls in response to my order, but I’m not afraid of him. If anything, right now, he should be afraid of me.
“Now, Faolan. I’ve had enough of this. Of all three of you.” Gaze sweeping across the three shifters, I shake my head. “I’m done.”
Alden steps out of my way as I stalk back toward the house, and I leave every single one of them standing outside when I slam the front door behind me.
Inside, I lean back against the closed door. And as soon as I’m alone, the rage starts to drain away, and all that’s left is tears. They flood my eyes again and run down my cheeks. I can’t scrub them away quickly enough.
How did everything get so messy? Why can’t everyone just get along?
I trudge through the foyer and drop myself onto the stairs, where I bury my head in my hands and cry. And the only thing that gives me any comfort is the feel of Harrison’s wet nose as he nuzzles against my neck and the rumble of his purr while he sits there as I cry.
Chapter 28
Faolan
AURORA HAS NEVER BEEN THIS mad at me before. I’ve upset her in the past, have been on the sharp end of her words more than once, but this is different.
I’m wounded from my fight with Cathal, though not so badly as I was when I first stumbled into the woods behind the cottage and found Aurora gathering mushrooms. Wounds cover my neck and back, and they sting as she cleans them. But unlike the times when she did this for me in the past, she doesn’t speak. Not a single word.
I’ve tried multiple times to apologize, to beg for her forgiveness. But she doesn’t so much as meet my eyes, acting like she can’t even hear the words coming from my mouth. Our bond is pulled taut, like it’s straining under the weight of her anger, of her disappointment in me.
But she can’t be more disappointed in me than I already am in myself.
Cathal and I have spent the better part of our lives antagonizing and bickering with each other. Typically, I’d havebetter control of myself, would let his words roll off me like rain dripping from my fur. Today, though, I was already on edge, ready to snap. And what he said about Aurora dug under my skin like thorns, cutting me in places where I was already vulnerable.
And I hate him for it. I hate him for treating me this way. I hate him for what he said about Aurora. And most of all, I hate him for exiling me from the only family I ever knew, for throwing me out like I was nothing. I hate him for all the hurt he’s caused.
