Chapter Four: Tamsin

Tears misted her eyes, but she didn't need clear vision to see the path ahead. It had been so long since she had set foot in this sacred place, yet every leaf, every shadow, felt as familiar as a cherished memory. The pull of deep-rooted magic seemed to rise from the very earth beneath her feet, a grounding force that connected her to the land, the past, and the future all at once.

Deep, powerful... Ancient.

Her thoughts were momentarily drawn away from her destination and back to The Lonely Tavern. And the witch Morwenna.

Now that was ancient magic. Even though her brief visit had been a whirlwind, Tamsin had sensed it in the very fabric of the building, and in Morwenna herself.

Were they responsible for the sudden and unexpected attack? If not the attack, then certainly they were involved in Tamsin's return to Wishing Moon Bay. It had reached out across an incredible distance, somehow knowing where she was, and pulled her back.

But why? They must have come to Wishing Moon Bay during her time away, as she had never heard of either the tavern or the owner. And so that was the question that swirled around and around in her head, ceaseless, unanswered.

Maybe unanswerable. What forces were in play here, she had no clue. But not for the first time, she felt like a pawn in a game of ancient beings. And she didn't much like being anyone's pawn.

She looked up at the thick canopy overhead. The paling night sky was just barely visible in slivers through the dark leaves, but even so, she caught glimpses of the moon and Venus, bright in the sky. Harbingers of her doom.

In another couple of hours, they would have faded as dawn broke over the town. But just because she couldn't see them, didn't mean she couldn't feel them.

Their presence had marred the otherwise pristine night sky for her, a stark reminder of the prophecy and her role in it, aligning with one another and, for some unknowable reason, her with them.

Damn it! If only that interfering tavern had left her on her isolated island for another few days, this whole thing would be over and she would be able to return home from her isolation. That had been Sophie's plan. Keep her out of Wishing Moon Bay until the passing of the conjunction, when Venus and the moon aligned, and then figure it out from there, hoping that after the time of the prophecy had passed, she would be able to return to her normal life.

Return to her estranged coven.

How she had missed them. Longing gripped her heart as memories of them flooded back—the coven rituals, sharing tea and spells, the time spent poring over old books in the reliquary—a bittersweet ache that she struggled to contain. She swallowed her emotions and tried to squash down her sense of abandonment. Yet their weight pressed down on her, suffocating in its intensity.

In all those years, she'd been so utterly alone.

For her own safety. And that of the coven, she reminded herself. Even so, the thought left a bitter sting.

But she was back now. They would help her, they would protect her. They would figure this out. She didn't even want to be the end of the coven, after all.

All she had to do was not fall in love with a wolf shifter from the pack. How hard could that be? She despised all of them and they all despised her, after all.

Her attention was pulled back to the ancient oak. There was someone there. She could sense them, feel their magic, unlike when she had been unable to feel Morwenna casting spells.

It was as if, after all, her years spent away from other people had amplified her senses. Just as all sounds must seem louder to someone who has lived in silence for a long time, she was more attuned to the essence of magic that swirled around her, within her, and within others.

Like that wolf shifter. She snorted. He had a primal magic that had nothing to do with casting spells!

As soon as the thought of him intruded on her thoughts, she cleared her mind and took in a deep breath to calm her nerves. Perhaps Morwenna had been right about that, at least. She needed to keep calm and grounded. After all, a lot had happened to her in the last couple of hours, and if she were going to circumvent that damn prophecy, she needed to keep a clear head.

"And in through the nose," Tamsin murmured as she inhaled. "And out through the mouth." She let out a long exhale, then repeated the process.

Once she had centered herself, she pushed forward through the last cluster of trees and peered out into the softly lit glade at the heart of the wood. Her breath caught in her throat. There was someone there, just as she had hoped.

Guinevere Gwilym. The leader of the DawnLight Coven was standing beneath the wide branches of the ancient oak.

Tamsin stumbled forward, a sob erupting from deep within her, filled with the longing to see a familiar face, to feel the comforting arms of her coven leader wrapped around her. She had been starved of human contact while she was away and now she craved it, craved to be part of her coven once more, to feel their love and know their loyalty was unbreakable.

"She's back!" The normally soothing voice of Guinevere Gwilym, the coven leader, was harsh and displeased.

Tamsin dropped down behind a fallen tree, out of sight.

Guinevere could only be talking about one thing.

Tamsin's return.

The thought cut her deeply.

"What?" a male voice demanded.

"Tamsin Connelly is back in Wishing Moon Bay," Guinevere replied.

"But she's dead," the male voice stated.

"So you said," Guinevere snapped. "But you are wrong, it seems."

"No," the man replied firmly.

"Yes," Guinevere insisted. "Whoever you sent to kill her botched the job and didn't bother to tell you."

"Impossible." Anger rose in the man's voice.

"I can assure you, it's the truth," Guinevere said. "She has returned here. Just now. Just in time for the prophecy to happen as it was foretold."

She knew. She knew all about the attempt on Tamsin's life. Worse, she knew, and she went along with it.

Tamsin covered her mouth as her stomach churned and her head span. She'd been so certain her coven leader had been the one who had orchestrated her disappearance to keep her safe.

But now it seemed it had been Sophie who had acted alone, who had helped her escape.

She sank to the ground as the conversation continued.

"But have you seen her?" the man asked. Tamsin was certain she recognized his voice but hadn't gotten a good look at him. She had her suspicions. If this was the man who had sent Mason to kill her, it was Lyril. Pack leader of the DuskWood Pack. And Mason's father. "Is it possible this is just some rumor? You know how these things can be when a prophecy is looming."

"I don't have to see her to know she is back," Guinevere replied tartly. "I can feel her presence in Wishing Moon Bay."

"It's a pity you didn't feel her presence before," the man grumbled. "There is so little time to take care of her now."

Take care of her. Tamsin could not comprehend what she was hearing. The betrayal ran much deeper than she could ever have imagined.

But what about Sophie? On her return to the coven, Tamsin had hoped to thank her friend for saving her. But what if Guinevere didn't know it was Sophie who had helped her? What if she did…

Tamsin would have to be very careful not to put her friend in danger if she wasn't already.

Tamsin's stomach lurched. What if she was too late?

No. Until now, Lyril and Guinevere had believed that Mason killed Tamsin. So no one knew about Sophie's part in the events that unfolded that night.

And that's the way it needed to stay.

"And it's a pity you didn't choose someone more trustworthy for the task," Guinevere countered, but then her voice softened. "This arguing does us no good."

"You're right." The man's voice had an edge to it still, but he sounded like a father placating a child.

Tamsin had never seen her coven leader as weak. Until now.

Not weak in magic. But weak in spirit.

"When can I see you?" Guinevere asked and there was a pleading tone to her voice that Tamsin had never heard before. It seemed things had changed a good deal while she had been away.

"You are seeing me now," the man replied.

"In person," Guinevere answered. "We need to figure this out together. We need to deal with Tamsin together. Or it will be the ruin of us all. I…I can still hear the whispers when I sleep. They've been quiet until now, but they remind me so often how devastating it will be for everyone if Tamsin lives, let alone if she unites with a wolf from your pack."

"We will deal with it," the man said. "I have sworn to protect my pack, and I will not fail them. The DuskWood Pack will endure forever."

"As will the DawnLight Coven," Guinevere Gwilym said ostentatiously.

Tamsin let go of her sense of betrayal and it was replaced by something else. Something more.

Anger.

Familiar anger. Though at someone she never thought she would feel it toward.

The DuskWood Pack and the DawnLight Coven had been sworn enemies for generations. So how come their leaders were working together to seal Tamsin's demise?

How had that happened? And what else might have changed while she had been away?

Tamsin crawled forward, needing to see her coven leader one last time with her own eyes. To see the truth.

She kept low. Needing to see but not be seen.

If her coven leader attacked her, Tamsin wasn't sure she could defend herself and survive. Guinevere had always been such a powerful witch. It was how she'd stayed in control of the coven for so long.

Peeking her head up, she caught sight of Guinevere's robes, with their runic trimmed in gold thread trailing behind her as she paced over the moss-covered ground. This was the woman she had looked up to for so long. The woman she had aspired to be.

This was the woman who had betrayed her.

With the alpha of the DuskWood Pack, who had sent his son to kill her.

Wait.

A thought struck her.

They both thought she was dead.

Which meant Mason had lied to his father. Could he really be on her side? Of course not. He must have lied to his father when he realized he had failed so that his father wouldn't think he was a complete loser, unworthy of leading the pack.

Yeah, that had to be the reason. Mason had failed to kill her and when she disappeared, he'd lied and said he had carried out his pack leader's orders. And he'd kept on lying ever since.

Tamsin slunk back into the shadows. The pack leader wasn't here in the sacred grove, he was elsewhere, only visible as a projection.

That explained why he couldn't sense her.

She backed away slowly, making no sound as she put some distance between her and her coven leader. Guinevere had said that she had felt Tamsin's presence when she returned. Was it possible she'd be able to feel her presence now?

"You need to deal with this," Lyril told Guinevere, his booming voice easily audible, and Tamsin paused.

"I can't," Guinevere said. So, perhaps Guinevere had had time to consider her actions and realized that killing one of her own coven was breaking a sacred law.

"She'll come to you," Lyril said. "She trusts you."

"No," Guinevere replied. "She has been gone for so long. She will be on edge. Suspicious."

"My dearest," Lyril said. "You have to be strong. You have to be brave. The future—our future—depends on it. You know the prophecy better than anyone. Tamsin must die."

"How am I supposed to find her if she doesn't come to me?" Guinevere asked.

"With this."

Damn it, she could not see what this was.

"A brooch," Guinevere said.

"It was given to me as proof that she was dead," Lyril replied.

Her brooch. It was a brooch worn by all the members of the DawnLight Coven as a symbol of belonging. Sophie had taken it from her just before she opened the portal that would take Tamsin to safety. How had the brooch ended up in Lyril's hands as proof she was dead? Was Sophie all right?

"I will do the spell," Guinevere said. "But her death must be by the hand, or claw, of the DuskWood Pack. As it is written."

"I do not recall that was written," Lyril questioned.

"As you said, I know the prophecy better than anyone, and it is my interpretation that the DuskWood Pack must be the ones to deal with her."

"We do it together," Lyril replied. "I will come to you with the brooch. You cast the spell. I will help you hunt her and then I will plunge a knife into her heart before the celestial conjunction destroys us all."

Great.

She sighed as she turned and crawled away. Once she was a safe distance, she straightened up.

And walked straight into something solid.

Wolf!

She summoned her magic, ready to strike as she jumped back from the imposing figure of Mason. He was barely visible under the cover of darkness, but she just knew it was him. "Come to finish the job?"

Mason stepped away from her. "No. Things aren't the way you think they are."

"Really? I find that quite hard to believe." Every fiber of her being hummed with magic, but she just couldn't bring herself to release it at him. Why was she holding off again?

"Wait. Think about it." Mason held up his hands and took another step back.

Oh my goodness, was this wolf really going to try to use logic on her after he already tried to kill her once?

"You heard what they said, right?" He nodded toward the ancient oak.

"I did. And I assume you now mean to finish the job to save face with the pack." Her eyes narrowed. "You're his son, after all."

"If you mean the leader of the DuskWood Pack, then yes." He shifted uncomfortably at the admission.

"Who sent you to ‘take care of me,' right?" she replied.

"Yes, he sent me to kill you," Mason began. "But I didn't actually do it."

"Obviously." She rolled her eyes at him.

Was this wolf shifter dropped on his head at birth?

"I let you get away," he insisted.

"Oh, please. You did no such thing." She shook her head. "Admit it. I got away."

"Because I let you," he said matter-of-factly. She was sure he believed it even though it was simply not the truth.

"And now, what?" she asked. "You're here to save me?"

"Yes." He nodded solemnly.

"I don't need saving by you, thanks." She tried to sidestep him, but he blocked her way.

"You heard what they said. You're not safe here." Mason pointed toward the ancient oak.

"You mean because of what your father, your alpha, your pack leader, said?" she asked.

"Woah," he hissed, keeping his voice low. "Don't you put the blame for this solely on my pack. That was your precious, sanctimonious coven leader out there, too. And unless my hearing is defective, she wants you dead as much as my alpha."

"She was just going along with it," Tamsin said as a reflex even though she didn't believe it.

"That did not sound like just ‘going along with it,'" Mason scoffed. "That sounded as if they were going to work together and track you down. And then..."

He didn't finish the sentence.

"I can handle myself," she told him as she raised her hand, but she didn't summon her magic, instead she reached to push him aside. But before her hand came into contact with his shoulder, he moved out of her way.

"Listen, Tamsin," he said as he followed behind her. "I am the only person you can trust right now."

"If that is supposed to make me feel better, it doesn't," she told him as she headed...where?

Where was she supposed to go? When she left the tavern, she'd assumed she would find sanctuary with her coven until the conjunction had passed and the power of the prophecy was lost.

"Let me keep you safe," he insisted.

"In what world do you think I will ever trust you?" she hissed as she stomped through the forest.

"In the one where I go and get the brooch so that they cannot cast the location spell," he replied.

"You would do that?" She whirled around to face him.

"Yes."

She nodded. What choice did she have? It wasn't as if things could get any worse.

Could they?