To make matters worse, there was another arcana lurking inside me. It was different than my ability to shift or the vocal commands. This arcana wasn’t one that I could control. It was like a sense.
This arcana filled my chest with cold ice, a chill that wouldn’t subside even when I lifted my face to the hot spray of water. It warned me when death was near.
No, that wasn’t quite right. My arcana didn’t warn when death was near. It summoned death to claim the souls of those who were a danger to myself and those I cared about. It was a kind of…verdict.
That was another responsibility that I didn’t care to carry on my own. What gave me the right to pass judgement on another? One could say that my hesitation to use this arcana was good, but I still wanted nothing to do with it.
If I could, I would have ignored it. However, the icy barrier in my chest kept the ritual’s arcana at bay, though. It protected me, so I couldn’t turn my back on it.
What was I becoming? Was this what a Barghest, or a Black Hound, really was? I’d been wondering what made me special ever since my first shift when Alvin paled at the sight of my hound. Did my arcana scare him? Or was it the prophecy that another witch had left behind that had triggered Alvin’s anger?
The pages torn from the pack’s records bothered me. I knew that specific record had details about Barghests and their arcana that would have helped me. Someone had taken the time to rip it out so that I wouldn’t be able to find it.
The bathroom door opened, and Ryder stepped in. I nearly reached for him. Instead, I balled my hands into fists and let the water run over me. It didn’t do much to cool down the need slowly taking over.
“I had your mother drop off some more clothes,” he said.
“Oh, no. Is she still here?” I didn’t want to talk to my mom right now.
The last thing I needed was for her to look at me and see all the ways I’d changed recently. I wanted to tuck these thoughts away and pretend that all was normal for a little while. Constantly dealing with my ever-changing arcana left me feeling hollowed out more often than not.
I wanted to empty my mind and lose myself in something else…someone else.
“Ugh,” I groaned, completely forgetting that Ryder was still on the other side of the shower curtain.
He chuckled. “She didn’t stick around. You don’t have to be so mean to your mother. She’s a nice woman.”
“Oh, that wasn’t…I didn’t mean…” I didn’t have a good excuse to hide what I’d really meant.
Ryder left, so I could get dressed, as if he hadn’t already seen me naked a number of times. It wasn’t like I could summon clothing each time I shifted back to my human form. Still, I appreciated the gesture.
Here, with him, I was safe. The feeling was still so new and novel to me. I wanted to sink into him and forget about the life I’d been handed. In his arms, I didn’t have to worry about anything else.
The feeling was addicting. If he left, I would have to figure out how to stand on my own again. Ryder kept saying that he had to go, that his past would catch up to him and that he would have to make sure that happened far away from here.
Still, he was here with me. He held my hand on our way out to his car and only let go after I opened my own door. Why was he here with me, though? Wasn’t Bri still here?
As we pulled away from the curb and turned toward the supernatural neighborhood, I cast a wary glance in Ryder’s direction. My mouth opened of its own accord and words slipped out before I could stop them.
“Why are you and Bri fighting?”
The car swerved before Ryder corrected himself. He gave me a strange sidelong glance.
I bit my lower lip and fidgeted in my seat while silence stretched between us. I wished he would say something, anything to break the constant churning thoughts trapped in my own head.
“I didn’t mean to pry,” I blurted out to cover my tracks.
“What? No. You’re not prying.” Ryder grasped the gearshift, his fingers tapping nervously against the handle. “Bri and I aren’t fighting. That’s why your question caught me off guard.”
Confusion sent me reeling. I stared at Ryder for several heartbeats before realizing that my mouth was wide open. Quickly closing it, I shook myself and diverted my gaze.
The witch’s house appeared outside the windshield. Ryder parked at the curb and spilled out of his seat, signaling that this conversation was over. When I followed him, his questioning gaze lingered on me, yet neither of us said anything.
Clearly, I’d misread something. If they were mates, then why was there so much tension between them? At first, I’d assumed that they were fighting about what happened between Ryder and his father. Now, I wasn’t so sure.
I followed in Ryder’s wake as he approached the witch’s house. The sound of bones clacking against one another made a chill run down my spine. I glared up at the macabre wind chime hanging on the porch. Ryder leapt up the steps, closed his massive fist around the windchime, and yanked it from the porch roof without taking his attention off the door in front of him.
He tossed the bone chime to the floor and lifted his fist to pound on the door. I chewed on my lower lip and stepped to the side, so I could peer into the nearby window. The curtains had been drawn, but this close I could peek through a gap between them. I cupped my hands around my face and leaned in close, fully expecting the witch to jump-scare me.