When I first came here with Wolfe, I was amazed, my world cracking open, so much bigger than I ever imagined. But now, as I watch my mother approach, I start to feel as if I’ve been fooled, as if this manor on this shore has always been known to all but me. I kept this secret and guarded it like a precious gem, only to discover the witches here didn’t need my protection.
My grip on Wolfe’s hand gets tighter.
“Hi, honey,” my mother says when she finally reaches us.
My greeting sticks to the inside of my throat, and I can’t get it out. I watch my mother as she meets Galen’s eyes, her shoulders back and her chin high, not a single worry creasing her perfect skin.
“It’s been a long time,” Galen says, looking at my mom.
“It certainly has.”
My heart races. I’d give anything for Wolfe’s perception spell to send me beneath the water, to take me anywhere but here.
“You two know each other,” I manage to say.
“We do,” my mother says simply, as if her words don’t reveal that she’s been lying to me for nineteen years. As if she doesn’t keep breaking my heart.
“You said the old coven doesn’t exist anymore.”
My mother moves her eyes from Galen to me. “I say a lot of things to protect our way of life.”
My entire body runs cold, and I shiver. “But I’m your daughter.” I hate the way my words get quiet and my voice shakes. I hate even more how calm my mother is, how my words don’t affect her.
“Some things are best kept hidden. Even from you.”
Wolfe doesn’t move. He doesn’t speak. But if I listen closely, I can hear his breathing over the sound of the waves, and it’s enough. That sound is enough.
“But I was willing to give up a life of my own to protect our coven. I did everything you ever asked of me in service of that goal. Surely I deserved the truth?”
My mother looks to my hand, to my fingers laced with Wolfe’s, and her brows knit together. For a single moment, she looks sad. Then it vanishes.
“You’re speaking in the past tense,” she says.
“I’m staying here.” It takes all my strength to get the words out, to make them sound sure and steady.
“Oh, honey,” my mother sighs, and it sounds pitying, like she feels sorry for me. Then she looks at Wolfe. “I haven’t seen you since you were a child.”
“Forgive me, I don’t remember.” He shifts but meets my mother’s eyes.
“It was a long time ago,” she says, waving a hand through the air, dismissing his concern. “It seems my daughter is willing to give up an awful lot for you. Why don’t you tell her the truth, though, so she has all the facts?”
Wolfe’s hand tightens around mine as a thick dread begins in my stomach and spreads through the rest of me.
“We should give them some privacy,” Galen says, but my mother stays where she is.
“He didn’t tell her when he had the chance, in private,” she says. “Perhaps he will tell her now.”
“Please stop talking about me like I’m not here,” I say to them. I turn to Wolfe. “What do you need to tell me?”
He gently releases my hand, and cold air invades the space where his warmth used to be. I shiver, looking down at my empty hand, then back to his face. The muscle in his jaw tightens and doesn’t release.
“We sent Wolfe to seek you out.” It’s Galen who speaks. “We’ve been trying to get a meeting with the council for the past year to discuss the ocean currents. This is a problem that must be solved soon, and after our last request was denied—”
“Dad, let me,” Wolfe says.
Galen nods.
“They sent me to get close to you. To use you to get to your mother, to get her attention some other way.”
“The moonflowers?” I ask, my voice a whisper.
“That was me,” he says, angrier than I’ve ever heard him. “I planted them for you to find. I magicked the light you saw to lure you to the field that first night.” I hear the way his voice catches on the word lure, and my breath does the same thing.
I remember my words from just moments ago, my overwhelming belief that the moonflower was fate, and my cheeks burn with shame.
“You were using me?” I ask, the last of my heart leaving with the words, floating out into the infinite darkness, never to return.
“Yes.” Wolfe swallows hard, his stormy eyes never leaving mine. “I’ve hated your coven my entire life, hated everything you stand for. I didn’t care if I had to use you to get what we want. What we need.” His hands are in fists at his sides. “And it was easy to use you—you’re too trusting, Mortana.” The frustration I’ve grown so comfortable with sharpens his voice and stabs me right in my chest.