Chapter 13: Chapter Thirteen

I toweled off my wet hair, scrunching it and shaking it out before flipping it over on my shoulder and wrapping the towel around my body.

I snuck across the hall and into my room, catching whispers from the witches who were gathered in my living room and waiting for me to make my entrance.

I closed the door to my room tight behind me and shirked off my towel. I turned to my bed, stomach clenching as I saw Grant’s sweater and Ben’s T-shirt sitting side by side.

Flustered, I grabbed them both and threw them to the back of my closet.

I thumbed through my own clothes, trying to put the boys out of my mind. Eventually, I pulled on a loose white blouse and a long skirt that turned to lace at my knee.

I let my damp hair hang down my back and turned my face to the mirror.

Large, dark eyes blinked back at me. My nose was small and slightly upturned, my cheeks wide and my chin narrow. I scraped my hair backward, revealing a shallow widow’s peak that my bangs usually hid.

My cheeks were flushed from the hot shower, my freckles hiding against the redness.

I looked at myself and tried to see a powerful witch, but all I saw was a girl who was scared and nervous and confused.

My living room was swarming with witches, I had two mates who I would eventually have to choose between, and I had this supernatural past that I knew almost nothing about.

Somewhere out there I had a father who belonged to a pack, who might have moved on from my mother and found his true mate.

The blood that ran in my veins, the genes that shaped my face, they were running around without knowing that I was wondering about him.

I heard my mother’s soft call for me and gripped my dresser, hanging my head between my shoulders as I took a few deep breaths. I was out of time to think and process.

It was time for my real debut into the supernatural world.

I looked up at myself and nodded. I could do this.

As soon as I descended the stairs, the living room broke out into a flurry of movement and chatter. I felt hands all over me, picking up my hair and touching my cheek and stroking my hands.

All I saw around me were women of every shape, size, and ethnicity. They were all cooing and grinning, proud of me without even knowing me.

I felt immediately embraced and accepted.

I felt my mother’s grip on my shoulder, gently pushing me to the other side of the room so I could take a seat on the recliner without five other witches hanging off me.

When I had settled into my seat, the other witches settled too, the younger ones sitting cross-legged on the floor while the older women took the couches.

My mother smiled broadly and clapped her hands together. “Western Witch Clan, meet my daughter and heir, Morda Morano.”

The witches clapped and whispered to one another, smiling at me with gleaming teeth. “Morda, these are the local witches from our clan.”

~Our clan.~

I smiled and raised a tentative hand. “Hi.”

The buzz of chatter broke out again. My aunt caught my gaze from across the room and rolled her eyes, trying to ease some of my nerves.

One woman with a blunt dark bob stepped forward, her heels clacking on the hardwood floors.

“I’m Marty,” she said. “I’ve known your mom since the twenties.”

I turned around to stare at my mom. She only smiled back and shrugged.

The middle-aged witch winked at me. “Anything you need to know about potions and poisons, ask me.”

I nodded, a weak smile on my face. “Er, thanks?”

A slew of witches introduced themselves to me, their powers ranging wildly and rarely overlapping in specialties.

I tried my best to keep their names and faces and abilities straight, but there were simply too many to follow and remember.

Midway through the introductions, a young witch had climbed behind my chair, perching herself on an armrest as she picked up my hair and started to braid it.

I ignored her mostly, catching her tugging at my strands whenever a particularly annoying witch dragged on her introduction.

“—I have the very rare ability to read tea leaves and constellations,” an older witch drawled.

The girl perched behind me tugged on my hair and whispered ~boring~ into my ear.

“—of course, I can only read loose-leaf Earl Grey, and the constellations have to be visible through the clouds, but—”

“Okay!” my mother said, clapping her hands together. “Thank you, Greta.” The old witch looked disgruntled as she was cut off, taking her seat on the couch and seeming to sink into the cushions.

The witch behind me bounced off my seat and presented herself in front of me, curtseying a little before standing straight and proud. She was a stunningly beautiful girl.

Her hair was a light caramel, with blond strands picking up the light and making her hair shimmer. Her eyes were a bright green, and her mouth was small and puckered.

She had a sprawling tattoo climbing up the length of her arm, depicting a tree with more and more leaves the higher it rose on her shoulder.

She was dressed in a light-pink dress and strappy sandals, an anklet winking at her ankle.

She was looking at me in a way that made me feel a little self-conscious; her full attention was a little too much to handle.

“I’m Eveline,” she said, “Eve for short if you would like. At this point, I’m pretty sure we’re going to take the Celestial Oath.” She held up her hands as the other witches groaned.

“I feel connected to you, Morda. I feel like you’re the girl for me.”

I was stricken. Not sure how to react to this girl. She was brash and confident and bold. She was unrelenting, and frankly, she was a little irritating.

My mom placed a hand on my shoulder.

“The Celestial Oath is a ceremony, it binds two witches for life, makes them connected. Your aunt and I took it a century ago. It allows you to draw on each other’s strength.”

“Yeah,” one witch in the back chirped, “and everyone Eve has asked has refused her.”

Eve rolled her eyes, placing her hand on her hip. “That’s because no one was strong enough to merge with me,” she explained, turning the force of her luminescent eyes back to me.

“Morda is going to be different, though, she’s going to be stronger than everyone of us.”

I felt a blush creep up my neck. “I—uh—”

Eve held up her tattooed hand. “Let me introduce myself fully first, no one gets hired without producing a résumé, right?” She quirked up a quick smile. “I am a master of the lost art of tree magic.”

A few witches laughed.

Eve shot them all glares. “It is an incredibly useful and dynamic power,” she went on, “few witches in history have had it.”

“Because it’s lame,” one girl chirped.

Eve turned around, and with her movement came a crash as a branch from the tree outside my house came rushing in through the front window, the branch speeding toward the woman who had snickered.

Eve had a gnarly smile on her face as her tattooed hand shot forward and the branch stretched until it faltered just in front of the smirking witch.

Embarrassed, Eve shook out her fingers, attempting to make the branch push out a little farther. A leaf sprouted. That was about all that happened.

My mother sighed and pinched her nose, mumbling something about witches and meetings and never again. Eve turned to me with a sheepish smile. “It works a little better when I’m in a forest.”

Slowly, Eve retracted the branch until it was back outside, and another witch stood and started to fix the window, taking the time to painstakingly replace every shard of glass to its original place.

When Eve had taken a seat, my aunt stood in front of me, bowing her head low.

“I’m Robin Vogel, your aunt and dedicated instructor on all things related to earth magic, including the use of crystals and minerals and the power of earthshaking.”

I blinked, impressed. Earthshaking sounded spectacular.

My mother was the last one to stand in front of me, her eyes brimming with pride. She hung her head low for a long time before she stood and pulled back her shoulders.

“I am Lila Morano, Clan Mother of the Western Witches. I will teach you to wield fire magic and to communicate with our goddess as the mothers before us have.

“From me, you will learn the role of the witches in this world and our connection to the other supernatural clans. From me, you will inherit a dynasty that has existed since the beginning of this world.

“Whatever gifts of your own you possess, I will do my best to help you shape them. I will be your teacher, your defender, your friend, and your mother. From me, you will receive the world.”

I stood, reaching for her outstretched hands and squeezing her fingers in mine. The other witches stood and clapped before taking each other’s hands and starting to sing.

My mother stepped backward so we were a part of the circle, grasping one of my hands while Eve swooped in to hold my other one.

I listened as the other witches sang something beautiful and ancient and powerful.

I let that song take me over, let it fill every inch of my mind and my body until I could anticipate the next note they sang. My mother squeezed my hand tightly as she sang, her voice low and throaty.

I squeezed her hand and then Eve’s until all the witches had taken a step closer to one another. I realized then that this was what I had been missing my entire life. Community.

It was something I never knew I craved but would always need from this moment on. I was home.

Hours and hours later, after the witches all trickled out, my mother sat on my bed, stroking my wavy hair as she hummed the same song to me.

I felt my heavy eyes begin to droop, begging me to rest after a night of running around with the wolves.

“I wish I had known about them sooner,” I whispered, meaning it.

I wondered how different my life would have been if I had grown up around the witches, around Eveline and others who were like me and accepted me.

My mom sighed, her hands pausing in my hair. “It’s hard, Morda, what you saw tonight is the beautiful side of what we are. Living this life... it isn’t always that way.

“It was an impossible choice to keep your life relatively normal, but once I made the decision, I had no choice but to stick with it until I was sure you were ready.

“And I kept pushing that back further and further.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, easing off her. “I’ll have a long life to live in this world.”

My mother smiled and resumed playing with my hair. “That you will.”

“I didn’t know you were Clan Mother,” I said, closing my eyes.

“I inherited the position from your grandmother,” my mom told me, her hand moving from my hair to caress the side of my face. “Later, Morda, you’re falling asleep on me.”

I laughed and leaned my face into her hand. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” I mumbled, falling asleep only a moment later.

***

I jolted awake to someone shaking my arm roughly. I blinked and shook my head slightly, feeling disoriented as I took in the low light.

When my vision cleared, I realized Will and Fitz were in my bedroom.

I yelped and grabbed a pillow, strapping it to my chest as I stumbled on all the words I wanted to say.

Will and Fitz looked painfully out of place in my bedroom. I hadn’t redecorated since I was thirteen, and it showed.

“Why—”

“Ben’s back,” Fitz said, eyes bright as he leaned in.

I took the pillow against my chest and whacked him with it. “Get out!”

“But Ben—” Will argued.

I whacked him too. “I’m coming—of course—but I need to get dressed.” The boys looked at each other before turning and sneaking out of my room the same way they had come in.

I stood and threw the pillow down, checking my phone and groaning. It was two in the morning. I wondered briefly if I would ever get a full night’s sleep again.

I figured this was the consequence of hanging out with werewolves.

I pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, not wanting to be caught running through the woods in another long skirt. One look at my hair in the mirror had me reaching for a hat and pulling it onto my head.

I opened my door and walked down the stairs, finding the wolves in my kitchen sitting opposite of my aunt at the kitchen table.

Will and Fitz were sitting up straight, both of them more civilized than I had ever seen. My steps slowed to a halt as I caught my aunt’s look; she had the power.

“Going somewhere, kid?” she asked, tapping her ringed fingers along the table. Her newest engagement ring was shining.

“Imagine, I come home after a night out with my fiancé, and I find these two pups sneaking across our kitchen. Then, I find you dressed in black sneaking after them.”

I looked down at myself and realized she was right. I had dressed dark.

“Aunt Robin—”

She held up her hand.

“I’m not going to bust you, punk, just know that I could have if I wanted to. You owe me one. Next time your mom is ragging on me for not doing the chores, you better come to my defense.”

I crossed my heart. “Done.”

My aunt’s smile was wicked. “Go.”

The boys acted like horses released from a starting gate. They took off running, Fitz grabbing my hand as he flung himself past me.

I was caught up in his momentum, nearly tumbling as I twisted to follow.

We burst out onto the dark street, the boys quickly outrunning me as they ran down the middle of the road.

I was wheezing by the time we got to the four-way stop, my lungs working overtime to draw in oxygen.

I held up a hand and then bent over, one hand slapping my knee. “You guys—” I wheezed, “too fast—”

Will and Fitz looked at each other, debating something. Will shifted. I shook my head, putting together what Fitz wanted me to do when he reached for my waist.

I took a few rapid steps backward as he approached me. No way.

“It’s like riding a horse,” Fitz offered.

“Except it’s ~Will~,” I whisper-yelled, conscious of the sleeping houses all around.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “Will ~likes~ to be ridden.”

I didn’t have a response.

“Not like that,” Fitz shot back, “come on, Morda, live a little.” Will turned his eyes to me and huffed through his muzzle, shaking out his fur as if to say, ~Yeah, Morda.~

I stalked forward and stuck my hands in Will’s black fur, glaring over my shoulder at Fitz. He got the message and helped hoist me up, making sure I was balanced before releasing me.

He stepped back and raised his fist to his mouth as he burst out in laughter.

“Shut up,” I hissed. I didn’t even want to think about what I must have looked like.

“It’s a good look,” Fitz assured me, sobering up. “Ben would lose his mind.”

The sound of tires sent Will running to the nearest cover and me shrieking as I was nearly bucked from his back. I bent forward, tucking my chest to his back as he rocketed forward.

Despite the speed, the ride was mostly smooth. Will was strong enough to support me without wobbling and low enough to the ground that he was able to find a good sense of balance.

Fitz had shifted behind us, his golden fur picking up the low light offered from the streetlamps. As soon as the car had passed, we took off running.

We streaked through the air, colors and shapes blurring together until I couldn’t discern our location.

Through the tears that had welled up in my eyes, I was sure I saw a streak of white against the mostly green background, but when I blinked, it was gone.

Will tried to be as careful as possible as we streaked through the trees, but he couldn’t help the branches that snagged my hair and clothes, scraping my skin.

The whole ordeal was over fast, though, the wolves moving with incredible speed.

We arrived upon Ben’s house, the structure silent and dark. Will whined at me to dismount, so I swung my legs over to the side and dropped myself as slowly as I could to the ground.

The impact still rolled my ankles.

When I was safely on the ground and a few paces ahead, the boys shifted, grabbing clothes from the shed out back where I assumed they kept an emergency closet for after their runs.

They stomped up beside me, at ease now that they were home.

I turned to them then, stopping them as they made a move toward the house. “The other night…,” I started, not sure how to apologize for leaving them. “I wanted—”

“We’ll yell at you for that later,” Fitz said.

I swallowed thickly. “I didn’t want to leave, but I—”

“Leaving was the only right thing you did,” Will countered. “We were pissed when you showed up. You could have been scented, or hurt, or killed!”

“I left you guys fighting… I should have stayed,” I admitted.

“And done what?” Fitz asked. “Get hurt? Get in the way? If Ben came back and there was a scratch on you, he would have killed us.”

“He’s right.”

I spun toward the house, catching him watching us from the porch. I drank him in, my eyes following every line of his body to make sure he was uninjured.

I couldn’t stop myself as I reached his face; I ran for him.

We connected with enough force to knock the air from my lungs. His arms clamped down on me at the exact moment I swung mine around him.

His face was nestled in the crook of my shoulder the next moment, one hand traveling to the back of my neck.

I was so relieved to see him that I didn’t stop to think about the intimacy of that moment—I just lived in it.

“Are you all right?” I asked, my hands skimming from his waist up to his shoulder blades and then coming down to rest on his lower back. “You were hurt; you were bleeding.”

Ben shrugged. “I don’t remember,” he told me.

Tentatively, I reached for the edge of his shirt and pulled it up to his ribs, searching for a scar that had to be covering the length of his skin. There was nothing there but smooth skin.

“It’s the change back,” he explained, “tissue and bones and skin breaking and tearing and then healing again. I’m sure it’s saved me from a lot of nasty scars.”

I shook my head in wonder. “I was worried that you were hurt—that you were alone.”

Ben waved me off. “I was fine. But I’d like to know why you were in the clearing the other night, why Will and Fitz were afraid to tell me that you had been whisked away by a member of Cerberus.”

Ben waited patiently for my response, tawny eyes boring into mine.

“I—” How did I explain Grant? “—he’s sort of…”

“I’m here to detain you.”

I whipped around to see Grant standing at the edge of the tree line, white hair picking up the moonlight, which turned the edges a bluish gray.

His eyes almost seemed to glow in the night, sending a thrill of excitement and terror through me. He was there. And so was Ben.

Ben took a small, but obvious, step in front of me, angling his shoulder so I had to peer at Grant from behind him. I felt his hand reach for mine and give it a squeeze, reassuring me.

My entire body was numb except for my cheeks, which were burning.

I did not miss the undeniable fire that lit in Grant’s eyes, the newfound rigidity to his body, the fury that sparked around him.

“Step away from her,” he ordered, his voice the thunder to the lightning that blazed in his eyes.

Ben caught the change in Grant’s demeanor, the way he was now assessing the situation as though analyzing the best way to get me away from Ben and to his side.

Ben’s hand went tighter around mine, his head tilting slightly to the side.

“Who the hell are you?”