Page 76 of A Female Alpha for the Lycan Prince
Once downtown, we head to the address my grandfather gave me. I honestly didn’t know what I expected… a cave maybe… or an ancient, creepy basement, but I certainly didn’t expect their coven to be on the top floor of an apartment complex.
We ring the doorbell. After a few seconds we hear a crackling sound coming from the intercom, then a voice calls out. “What’s your concern?”
“I’m Celine Anderson,” I say without further ado. “My grandfather sent me to you. His name is Justus Carmine.”
There is a long pause, I can hear someone breathing through the intercom, then there is whispering—another pause. Eventually, the door in front of us opens, and a woman with shoulder-length black hair steps out. She checks me over with a frown, her eyes begin widening as she does so. Does she recognize me? “And the others?” she asks.
“They are with me,” I say.
The woman tilts her head, nodding towards Aryanna. “I have seen her with an allied coven. She can enter, but he—”
“His name is Marcel Sanders,” I explain evenly.
She frowns, checking him again. “You are of witch blood,” she suddenly states in a matter-of-fact tone. “But as a male descendent, you are not blessed with a gift. Fine, he can enter too.”
She opens the door for us to enter. Following her inside, she leads us to an elevator, which she uses to bring us to the top floor.
“But… I’m not a witch,” Marcel breaks the silence, sounding sincerely shocked. “And none of my parents were.”
“It sometimes leaves out a generation, like in Celine’s case,” she tells him, surprising me by addressing me so informally. She is not being impolite, though, it’s more like she addresses me as a friend. “Only females can be hybrids, so your father and you aren’t gifted. But I assume your sister Jazmine is.”
“How do you know about Jazz?”
She shrugs. “I just know.”
When we enter the apartment, she steps aside. “She’s here, Jade.” I notice another woman approaching us. She’s tall and regal and looks both young and old at the same time. It’s incredibly hard to tell her age, she might be in her mid-forties, but at the same time, it’s obvious she has been around a long time.
She approaches me directly, opening her arms. “Celine!”
I look at her dumbfounded, not ready to let my guard down yet. “And you are?”
“I’m Jade.” She smiles. “Justus’ mother.”
I swear at that announcement, I almost drop to the floor in shock. Aryanna’s eyes widen too. “Isn’t Justus your grandfather, Celine?”
I nod, dumbfounded.
She just smiles at me, taking me by my hand and leading me further inside. “I was hoping we would meet one day.” She chuckles, shaking her hair slightly. It’s a very light blonde, edging into silver. “My boy told me you would be coming,” she explains.
Having someone refer to my very old grandfather as a boy should be funnier than it is. “Why… why do you look so young?” I finally dare to ask. “Grandpa looks his age, and…well…”
She smiles sadly. “That’s because he’s a boy. Our sons unfortunately, don’t inherit a lot of our powers. He still has some gifts, but other than that, he’s like a normal human. Only our daughters are born with the full power of a witch. It’s the reason why all hybrids are female. The gene is so powerful it reaches the third and sometimes the fourth generation.”
“Jazz is half-witch,” Marcel stutters. “I never… thought…”
“Your grandmother, young man, was a powerful witch. She gave birth to a son and lived in the human world. Although your father wasn’t a hybrid, he passed on the gene to your sister. Jazz is different to Celine, though.”
I’m so confused. I have never really studied witches. “How come?”
“Witches are born into different covens,” she explains. “Our coven includes witches who can communicate with the spirit world and nature. I’m sure you’ve experienced that already?”
I nod.
“Jazz’s ancestors, however, are from a coven practicing more of what you would consider traditional magic. Brewing, herbalism, even some medicines. Of course, not every coven can do spells. If Jazz polishes her natural gift and learns how to do actual magic, she could be strong.”
“See, I always told you, you have a tough sister,” I nod with a smile toward Marcel.
He smiles slightly. “She’s the best.”
