Chapter Three

CHAPTER THREE

" N ot going to happen." Morgan pressed her hand against Ryder's shoulder, right over the mating mark that connected the two of them. Without even needing to concentrate, she felt his remorse slam into her like a sledgehammer, and it made her want to smack him.

"Stop feeling guilty." She ducked her head to catch his gaze and glared at him for his idiocy.

He stiffened, his wolf peering out at her, and a rumbling growl vibrated under her palm. He leaned closer and bared his fangs. "Being my mate is putting you in danger."

Morgan snorted and rolled her eyes. "How is that any different from being my mate?"

"That's different." He jerked back, scowling down at her. "We're supposed to protect you."

"Oh?" Her brows lifted at his audacity, and she placed her hands on her hips.

"Dude…wrong way to win an argument," Draven muttered in a singsong voice, eavesdropping without a hint of remorse.

"I thought that's what mates were supposed to do—protect each other." Morgan drummed her fingers in annoyance. "Please don't spout the bullshit that I'm female and need to be protected by you big, strapping male types. If anything, I'm stronger and faster. I've been training my whole life to be your partner. Don't demean me by treating me as less."

His wolf outright growled, grabbing her around the waist and yanking her hard against him, as if he could make her obey by force of will alone. "You drive me fucking crazy."

Though she should be afraid, her body heated at the rough, possessive tone, and she knew she'd won. She leaned into him and pressed her face against his shoulder. "I know…the feeling is completely mutual."

His wolf chuffed in reluctant humor, the tension slowly easing out of his body as he conceded defeat, and she felt the comforting brush of his fur against her mind. "If we don't confront them together, they will see it as a weakness. They will try to divide us. I won't allow them to take you from me."

As if talking to her, Ryder's wolf gave a grumpy sigh before resting his cheek on top of her head. "I know you're right. That doesn't make letting you walk into danger any easier."

"Then it's decided." Kincade ran his hand over his head, not looking any happier about the decision.

He went on discussing plans, but Morgan was distracted when the old mirror attached to the wall rippled like liquid mercury. Spots vanished from the ancient surface, but instead of reflecting back an image of the library, it remained a blank canvas.

Mirror magic.

The wards didn't even shiver in warning.

Morgan moved to stand between it and the guys, her blades melting down into her hands. The guys went into action at her movement, cursing as they pulled their own weapons. Ryder shifted partly, still on edge due to the invasion of wolves in their territory. She'd swear she actually saw blue hellfire dance like flames in Ascher's raised hands. The dark elf in Atlas took over completely, while Draven's siren rose to the surface until she could hear the crashing waves from the ocean like it was just outside the window .

Kincade came to stand at her side, small fangs and claws forming, his skin taking on a polished sheen of smooth granite. His tail slinked around her ankle to curl up her leg possessively, ready to pull her to safety if needed.

To her surprise, even Caedmon went into warrior mode. His brilliant yellow eyes glowed, his fangs and claws even more pronounced than Ryder's, and she realized that she'd never seen him shift to his wolf form. Magic crackled around him like a storm, static building like a bomb ready to detonate.

A thirty-pound ball of orange fluff burst through the mirror with a snarl and ferocious yowl. The mangy cat gave himself a full body shake, even down to his slightly stubby tail, his stripped fur standing on edge and ruffled. He flicked his wings in agitation, his not so dainty claws snicking out of his paws as he glared at the room with yellow, almost feral eyes from his slightly flattened face. "Mirrors are the devil's inventions. No self-respecting fellow should be forced to travel in such a way."

Self-consciously, he ran a paw over his right ear, where a notch was missing from a long ago fight, as if to assure himself that the ear still remained attached. Spots of fur were still missing, battle scars he'd obtained over the years, the cat a scrapper in his youth. Over the last few weeks, his bent and twisted whiskers were now strong, his coat of fur thick and shiny from all the meals he'd managed to swipe.

"Stanley?" Morgan lowered her weapons in confusion. "I thought you were staying at the Academy for a while."

He snorted, an evil glint in his eyes when he huffed at her. "And let the mangy mutts try and take over my coven without me here to supervise?" He stalked across the room, his tail full of swagger. For such a large cat, he still remained light on his feet as he seethed and mumbled under his breath. "That leprechaun better not have touched my things."

He disappeared out the door, everyone staring after him without moving.

The mirror rippled again, drawing her attention, and she stiffened, not liking surprises .

A boot pierced the surface of the mirror, followed by a leg.

Male.

She tightened her grip around her weapons, but only when a familiar face began to take shape did she lower them in complete confusion. "MacGregor?"

The scent of old leather and metal reached her just seconds before he emerged fully from the portal. MacGregor was a term of endearment and respect since he'd retired from running his own coven a few months ago. She doubted that anyone even remembered the old man's real name.

He'd rescued her as a child when she had no place else to go, and trained her as an assassin. The burly warrior was well past his prime, reminding her of a gnarled old grizzly, and just as fierce. His silver hair was wild as a shaggy sheepdog, his faded blue eyes sharp as ever as he raked her from head to toe, intelligence and cunning gleaming back at her.

Though he kept in better shape than most people half his age, a number of scars knotted and twisted his body, a true testament to his abilities. Since he'd retired, there was a softness to him now…like a weight had been lifted from his shoulder.

And it was all because of the person who stepped through the mirror next.

MacGregor turned, held out his hand, and Mistress McKay gave him a soft smile as the liquid in the mirror peeled away from her. Her silver eyes were soft as she gazed down at the old warrior. The dour expression that was normally etched on her face had vanished, leaving her with an almost youthful appearance.

Her light brown hair was no longer scraped back but loosely tied at the base of her neck…as if she just had a tryst with some rascally fellow. Though she was an itty-bitty thing, barely reaching Morgan's shoulders, sharp intelligence gleamed in her eyes, one that warned she didn't suffer fools gladly.

They were the perfect match.

And after thirty years, they were finally giving their relationship a chance .

The metal of her blades melted down, swirling back up her arms to form back into jewelry, and she put her hands on her hips as she stared down at them. "What are the two of you doing here? I thought you were going on vacation."

"Bah." MacGregor waved a hand, as if to brush away her words. "Vacations are boring."

He gallantly slipped Mistress McKay's hand into the crook of his elbow, patting it before covering it with his own. Then his sharp, blue eyes landed on her and her men before narrowing. "Besides, I hear you got into a bit of trouble over break. We've come to help you settle into the coven."

How in the world could they've learned about everything so quickly?

She heaved a sigh and looked at the mirror behind them, giving him a reproachful look. "You've been spying on us."

She hadn't even been aware the mirror had been active.

"Now, now, don't get your knickers in a twist, girl." He waggled a finger at her like she was the one who had done something outrageous. "You were just assigned the coven. You have a lot to do to get this place up and running in a week."

The guys relaxed when they realized they weren't under attack. Kincade even went so far as to smile as she and MacGregor bickered back and forth, then the humor fell away and he straightened at the old man's warning. "Why a week?"

"Congratulations on your graduation." Pride shone from Mistress MacKay as she took in the group. She reached forward, squeezing Morgan's arm, and a rush of pleasure swirled through her at the praise. "I always knew you could do it."

MacKay was one of the few teachers that had believed in her, and her approval meant a lot. Even the guys straightened under her approval. The witch pursed her lips, glancing around the room, already cataloging what needed to be done. "The covens are being stressed with the influx of paranormal creatures coming through the rifts. While they would love to give you more time to adjust, that's just not possible."

She pointed at Draven and Ryder. "We left our bags for you to collect. The portal will remain open for twenty minutes. That should give you more than enough time."

Both men nodded, but Ryder looked a little green, the shifter not a fan of portals. Without a word of protest, both stepped through the mirror.

"Ascher and Atlas…" Kincade dipped his chin at the two. "Unload the truck. I want us all settled in before night falls."

The door barely closed behind them when MacGregor turned and faced Caedmon, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the man, taking his measure. Morgan quickly took her cue and introduced them, explaining how they'd met.

MacGregor harrumphed, but Morgan could tell that he was impressed by the warrior. "You will spar tomorrow with the guys before you're allowed to go off alone with Morgan."

Heat seared her cheeks, and she sputtered, suddenly feeling like a teenager bringing a boy home for the first time. "MacGregor! That's enough."

But both men ignored her.

Caedmon bowed in a way that looked formal. "I look forward to it."

She looked at Kincade with wide eyes, not above pleading with him to put her out of her misery. The fucker just chuckled, not even bothering to hide his amusement. Before she could smack him, he straightened, a smile still playing about his face. "Let me show you where you can put your bags."

Said luggage was already starting to pile up behind them as it sailed through the mirror. Draven was chucking them through from the other end, while Ryder was more circumspect, carefully shoving the bags along the floor.

The others headed toward the door, talking about improvements they wanted done, but she couldn't help but linger as the amount of baggage continued to grow, quickly overtaking the library. A frown gathered between her brows, and she turned to follow the others. "Just how long did you say you were going to stay?"