Page 23 of Our Covenant

“Help,” I call, but I can barely hear myself. “Fuck. Asher, help me.”

The door creaks but I’m not sure if it’s the tornado I’ve created trying to rip it off its hinges or if Asher has decided to break it down to get to me. It wouldn’t be the first time one of us has had a night terror that threatened to break the whole house.

“Breathe.” Hawthorne’s distinct resonance comes from under the cracks.

I try to take a deep inhale, but smoke fills my lungs then intensifies when I exhale. The slivers of light are extinguished again and panic sets in. What if I use up magic that is meant for other families?

The door shakes. Harder and harder until it feels like the floorboards will be taken off with the frame. Two pairs of hands grip my arms and pull me across the tile onto the hall runner and oak planks.

“Look at me.” Thorne’s eyes blaze into me, the fire behind his irises coming alive, and I realize the burning on my arms is from heat and not pressure.

The inky black cloud clears, and I hiss out a curse but focus harder on the burns forming on my skin. On the look of fear and rage on Thorne’s face. He’s fighting my demons for me, and the strain in my throat is no longer from choking on my own smoke and wind.

“That’s it. Come back to me,” Thorne soothes, pulling me closer until our brows press together.

My muscles loosen as the episode passes.

“What happened?” Asher is standing above us, the doorknob to the bathroom dangling from his fist.

“I—” I can’t bring myself to tell him. “A nightmare.”

“No more weed for a bit.” He chalks it up to inebriation and helps pick my body off the floor. “Come on. Sleepover in my room.”

I don’t question it. I don’t have the strength to fight either one of them as they walk me down the hall. Asher’s room is the largest in our wing. His massive bed sits in the middle of it, a solid oak monstrosity of a carved frame encasing the plush mattress. I imagine with his sex drive and strength, he needs an enforced structure to keep the bed from breaking apart.

The impossibly plush mattress sinks under my weight and I feel like I’m being wrapped in a cushion. Three lamps are on but they’re dim and moody, barely illuminating the dark wine-colored wallpaper between gold antique picture frames. He took the gallery wall trend to whole other heights a couple years back. He’d spent a large chunk of his inheritance on the images staring back at me. Fruit dripping in gold. Demon creatures consuming the flesh of men. Moths and butterflies with shimmering wings swarming puddles of blood on lush green leaves.

Thorne stands at the foot of the bed with his arms crossed. “I’m taking you to the gym with me in the morning, so get some sleep.”

“I don’t need to be babysat,” I assure them but already know the legs I have to stand on are still too weak to fight it.

“It’s arms and chest day so eat a big breakfast,” he advises as he walks out the door.

Asher huffs a laugh as he gets into bed next to me. There’s about a foot of space between us, but the mountain of fluffy pillows and blankets makes it feel like we’re floating on twin clouds.

“Night, fucker,” he says, rolling to his side to face me.

“Love you, too.”

12

ELSBETH

My birthday dinner was everything I wanted and more. Anissa, Eileen, and I curled up on the couch and watched a whole season of a teenaged girl falling for a vampire, only to become entangled in a love triangle with a demon. We all decided that their ultimate solution would be to form a polycule, but, as always, monogamy got in the way.

Not that I have any room to talk. I had one boyfriend in high school and it was a miracle that I managed to lose my virginity after secretly dating him for six months. My mother preached continuously about keeping myself pure of human male attention. To her, any interest I have in nonmagical relationships is pointless and selfish.

That rule does not apply to her. My mother fulfilled her end of the prophecy by seducing the powerful witch and using his seed to conceive me. Her own lamb for the slaughter. The sperm donor was long gone before the test turned pink.

When Alric’s interests faded and he no longer saw her as useful, Saraphina Noyce-Hale went through a new man every week until she found one with a fat enough bank account to support her lavish lifestyle. Letting my mother drive herself insane with unrequited lust is the only gift that Alric has given me that I cherish. Because the only time I hear from her outside our designated call time is when she needs to “borrow” magic that I don’t truly own.

I treat Alric’s magic like any other substance: I indulge sparingly.

Last night’s astral projection used the gift he’d given me three months ago to congratulate me for passing my finals. Usually, I hoard every last drop for a rainy day—or in this case night. Alric, of course, thinks I’m stupid enough to use it as he’s given it to me, but he can continue to believe I’m an airhead loyalist.

This morning, I’m up earlier than usual for a workout. With some of Alric’s magic still tingling at the tips of my fingers, I know I need to sweat it out of my system quickly or it’ll make me sick. The only benefit of having to use that man’s power is that it gives my face an ethereal glow. Which makes me feel like less of a slob for not going through the full hour ritual of becoming a gym goddess to catch the attention of Hawthorne Bishop.

I scan the large open cardio area for any sign of him. It’s too early for Hawthorne to be here, but rejected men do desperate things.