He kisses me again and finds my hand, leading me through the manor and up to his room. He keeps looking back at me as if it isn’t enough to feel my fingers laced with his. He needs to see me, needs to make sure I’m still here, and I love it.
He opens his bedroom door, and I walk inside, the light from the fire casting the room in copper shadows that dance across the floor and up the walls. There is no other light.
I slowly walk to the bed and turn to face him.
“Wolfe?” I say, letting the thin straps of my dress fall from my shoulders.
He swallows hard. “Yes?” His voice is like sandpaper, coarse and uneven, and I hear the vulnerability in it, the fear that this might all be a dream, that he might wake up to a girl with no memory of him.
“I’m right here,” I say. “Touch me until you’re convinced this is real.”
He doesn’t move. He stares at me, frozen in place, completely still.
“Please.”
He finally closes the space between us and takes my head in his hands, kissing me until I’m breathless. I tug at his shirt and pull it over his head before letting it fall to the floor. He slowly undoes the buttons of my dress, the gray silk sliding down my body and pooling around my feet, his fingers trailing the length of my spine.
I lean back onto the bed and bring Wolfe with me, never letting go of him. He kisses my mouth and eyelids and neck, desperate at first, then slower, as if with every touch he’s assuring himself this will not be the last time. He slides his hand down my side and over my hip, all the way to my knee before pausing and slowly trailing his fingers back up. I clutch at his shoulders as he follows the curve of my thigh, gasping when he finds what he’s looking for, my entire body responding. I am lost in him. Completely lost in him.
I shove my hands into his hair and arch into his touch, whispering his name against his mouth. “More,” I say.
He brings his hands to my ribs and his hips between my legs, his breath catching in his throat as he begins to move, closer to me than he’s ever been. The closest he can get, and yet it doesn’t feel close enough. I grasp his back and feel his weight on me, pulling and pulling and pulling, and maybe he isn’t the only one who’s terrified he’s dreaming.
I savor every sigh, every kiss, every touch, feeling him in ways I’ve never felt anyone, listening to his breaths as they stall and hitch, as they get heavier and faster. We build together, nearing a cliff I’m desperate to jump from. He pauses, catching my mouth in his. Then we leap together, and the intimacy of seeing him so out of control takes my breath away. He is magic to me, and I realize that at some point, I stopped being able to distinguish between the two.
He has always seen me, not as a role but as the center of my life, forcing me to find my own truths. And in the midst of it all, I found him. He is my truth, and there are not enough lies in the world to convince me otherwise.
He whispers my name, breathing with me and slowing with me until the fire dies down to nothing more than ash.
Then we sleep, each knowing that tomorrow, the other will be here when we wake.
forty-two
Two days later, Galen, Wolfe, and I meet with my parents. We wait until the sun has set before leaving the manor, sticking to the trails that wind through the forest so we aren’t seen. My mother has much to discuss with the council, but those conversations won’t start until she knows where the old witches stand. She never shares anything until she has a thorough answer for every possible question. And she makes sure she knows everything that happens on her island so she’s never surprised.
She does not like being surprised.
We meet in the back room of the perfumery, long after the shops have closed for the day. Main Street is empty, and yet I can’t help craning my neck as we pass the Eldons’ tea shop, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ivy. But the shop is dark.
My parents are already there when we get to the perfumery. My father is grinding down herbs with his mortar and pestle as if it’s a normal day at the shop. His hands still when I walk into the room, and a small smile pulls at his lips and brightens his eyes.
“Hi, Dad,” I say, walking over and hugging him tight. It’s only been two days, but I miss the way his cooking fills the house with the clanging of pots and mouthwatering smells. I miss the way he hums to himself and how he always has a cup of tea ready when I need one. The vial he gave me hangs from my neck and digs into my sternum when I tighten the hug.
My mother is watching us when I pull away, and I don’t know what to expect from her. When I saw her on the water, she was completely focused on Landon and his parents. Now that she has had time to sit with the events of my Covenant, I’m not sure how things have changed. I don’t know if she will treat me like a threat or an enemy or the person who ruined the plans she so painstakingly laid.
But when my eyes meet hers, she pulls back her shoulders and lifts her chin, then takes a long, deep breath. She’s trying not to cry. “Hi, sweetie,” she says.
“Hi, Mom.” And before I can think better of it, I cross the room and give her a tight hug, the kind that will mess up her hair and rumple her blouse. She doesn’t pull away, though. She sinks into it and clutches me tight, a mother hugging her only child.
When she pulls away, she smooths her hair and clears her throat. “I believe this belongs to you,” she says, handing me the silver necklace that Wolfe gave me the night I first visited the manor. I had completely forgotten about it, and I run my fingers over the smooth black stone. It must have taken so much for her to give this back to me when it goes against everything she has worked for, and I don’t trust myself to speak. I look at her, and she blurs in my vision.
“Thank you,” I manage to get out.
“You’re welcome.” She brushes my cheek with the back of her hand, then looks at Wolfe. “There are many things we don’t agree on, but you’re part of our family now. I hope you’ll learn to think of us as such.”
“Thank you,” he says. “That shouldn’t be too difficult—I’ve had plenty of practice disagreeing with my dad.”
My mother’s mouth quirks at his words, and she looks at Galen as she answers. “I don’t doubt it.”
“Some habits refuse to die,” Galen says.
“Speaking of disagreeing,” my mother says, motioning to the chairs they’ve set out, “we have a lot to discuss.”
We sit down, a clear delineation between our chairs and hers. We might be family, but right now we’re also opposing forces who must try to find some common ground.
I watch as my mother slips into her role as coven leader, narrowing her eyes and straightening her spine. “Here is your meeting, Galen. Say what you need to say.”
“Actually, Tana’s going to take this one, if that’s okay with you.”
She slowly turns her gaze to me, one eyebrow arching in surprise. She nods. “Of course. The floor is yours, Tana.”
I shift in my seat and fold my hands together to keep from fidgeting. My dad’s grinding stops, and the room fills with weighted silence. I take a deep breath and think back to that moment in the water, watching Wolfe and his magic, when the idea took root inside me.
“The mainlanders believe their ship was sunk by the storm, which will buy you a little time,” I say. “But as soon as something else happens with the currents, they will realize what happened and blame you for the near loss of Landon and his family. Any trust they had in you will fade, and it could take years to rebuild the relationship—if they decide they’re open to it in the first place.”
My mother tilts her head to the side as she listens. “Yes, that’s all true. If you have something helpful to propose, I’m open to hearing it, but I don’t need you to recount the things I already know.”
I pause before continuing. She’ll hate what I’m about to say, but I don’t see any other way out. “You can’t keep rushing your magic into the sea. Give it to us instead.”