Chapter Seven

"All right," Savannah said, holding up a beaker of some silver liquid.

Greyden reared back his head. "That's not silver, is it?"

Savannah looked affronted. "Absolutely not. The main ingredient is agrimony. That combined with blessed thistle and a touch of enchanting magic turns it this color. Hopefully, this should do the trick. Have a seat in that chair and drink it all in one setting. You can't sip it."

"Okay," Greyden said as he sat.

"This is going to be the hard part. As the potion breaks up the spell, he'll convulse. Alpha, I need you to strap him to the chair with those bungy cords." Savannah looked at Zenia. "It's going to be scary, but he'll be fine. Okay?"

She nodded.

Savannah led them from her shop to the apartment upstairs. She had a chair in the middle of the kitchen, resting on a large beach towel. Jericho had also been there, waiting for them.

Greyden took the beaker and looked at Zenia, maintaining eye contact as he drank it down. When he was done, he grimaced. "Could've used some sugar."

"That was probably the wormwood."

He frowned. "Isn't that in absinthe?"

"Is it?"

Jericho came over and tied him down. Savannah checked the tightness of the restraints.

"Good," she said.

"Now what?" Zenia asked.

"It could take ten minutes or it could take ten hours. Hard to predict how strong these spells are, but I'm guessing it's pretty damn powerful after five years. Might be a good idea to come back. I can call you."

"I'm not leaving him," she said.

Savannah nodded and grabbed another chair from under the table for Zenia to sit on. Then she and Jericho left, giving her and Greyden a moment.

"Thank you for staying."

She shrugged. "You'd do the same for me."

"I'd like to think I would," he said. "I can't get over the fact that if I hadn't come here, I'd still be completely oblivious to what happened."

Zenia looked down at her hands. "Were you happy with her?"

"I wish you hadn't asked me that."

"You don't have to answer if you don't want," she said softly.

"You, out of anyone, has the right to ask the difficult questions. Was I happy? I suppose. Was I in love?" He thought for a moment. "I don't know. I thought I was, but there was always a voice in the back of my head telling me something wasn't quite right. And now I know that voice was yours."

"Do you wish you hadn't come here?"

"Yes," he replied. "And no. Mostly no. More no than yes."

"I can understand that," she said quietly. "I was the same. After I got back from the care home, Alpha Jericho offered me a job. I couldn't go back to the house I lived in with my parents, so I sold it and rented a small house not too far from the coffee shop where you found me."

"Your scent drifted toward me and I went hunting. Eventually, I found you."

She nodded, not needing to replay the events. "What's going to happen when the spell is lifted?"

He hesitated for a moment. "Good question. I assume the mating bond will kick back in for us once more, and I'll go back to my pack with you by my side."

"I don't know if I can go there with you," she said. "She's there. She's been in your bed. Cooked in your kitchen. Cleaned your home. You've had five years of birthdays and Christmases. You know her likes and dislikes."

"It was all a lie, so none of that matters."

It mattered to her. There was still one more piece of information he didn't know about, and she didn't know if she should tell him. Perhaps she'd wait to see if there was a bond still remaining. No need to dredge up unnecessary pain.

"I'll sell the damn house," he continued when she didn't say anything. "I can't stay here with you in Sheridan—"

"I know," she injected quickly. "Your father is the alpha. I'd never ask that of you. I'm only saying that maybe too much time has passed. Maybe when the spell is broken, our bond will be too."

"I don't believe that at all." He shook his head. "Someone tampered with the High Luna's plan for us, and when we figure out who and how and why, I'm going to make them pay."

Just then, he gasped in pain and bent over as far as he could.

She jumped up and hurried to his side. "Greyden?"

An agonized moan burst forward, and sweat immediately dotted his forehead.

"I think that enchantress really downplayed how much this was going to hurt." His body stiffened and he closed his eyes, trying to keep his breath even. Once the wave passed, he opened his eyes and stared at her. "Talk to me."

"About what?"

"Whatever. I need to take my mind off what's happening."

"Okay," she said, wracking her brain. "Um. Growing up I wanted to be a writer. I loved reading romance books, because they always had a happy ending."

"And who doesn't like a happy ending?"

"Precisely." She smiled.

Another intense jolt of pain left him panting.

"I think today might be the day I cry. This better break the fucking spell because I don't want to go through this again."

For the next twenty minutes or so, the pain came quicker than the last time and grew in intensity. Zenia felt helpless, and when he started to vomit, she grew scared. Thick black goo, for lack of a better description, poured from his mouth. The muck undulated, morphing into different shapes. It lunged in her direction and she practically tumbled from the chair. In a panic, she ran to the stairwell and screamed for Savannah before rushing back to Greyden's side. He was covered in the black vomit, and it twisted around his legs, as if trying to scale him. It looked like it wanted to crawl back into his mouth. His eyes rolled back in his head, leaving only the white sclera visible It was terrifyingly evil. Footsteps came running into the apartment and Savannah came to an abrupt stop.

Savannah threw a white powder at the sludge. An ear-piercing screech filled the room, but a moment later, it evaporated in a puff of black smoke. Greyden hung his head, eyes closed. Then he started to convulse, his body shaking uncontrollably.

"Is this supposed to happen?" Zenia cried.

"No," Savannah said. "I have to grab an antidote. I'll be right back."

She disappeared again and Zenia grabbed paper towels trying to clean him up. The blood had drained from his face, leaving him pale, and his hair dripped with sweat.

"Greyden," she whispered. "Can you hear me? Greyden? Please, come back to me. We have an entire lifetime ahead of us, but only if you open your eyes."

Savannah ran back into the kitchen with some red leaves in her hand. "Help me, Zenia. Take these and stuff as many into his mouth as you can."

Zenia took hold of them and frantically stuffed them into Greyden's mouth. Savannah poured some clear liquid in her hand and slapped it on his forehead, muttering an incantation under her breath. For a few minutes, nothing happened, and then suddenly he dragged in a lungful of air and started coughing. Bits of the leaves fell out, falling to the floor like obscene confetti. This time, silver sludge came spewing out of his mouth.

Savannah let out a shuddering breath of relief. "He's going to be all right."

"What the fuck happened to my clothes?" Greyden's voice was shallow. He could barely open his eyes.

"Nothing a good cleaning can't fix," Zenia said, freeing him from the cords. Once released, he leaned into her and she held him tight, not caring his vomit was getting on her. She looked at Savannah. "What happened?"

"It's not a simple spell," she said. "What came out of him was very dark, ancient magic. He's not yet free from its hold. This is out of my scope of power. I'm going to need help."