Page 41 of Our Covenant

He’s silent for a long moment, and I think he’s fallen back asleep until he says, “Then we’ll learn a bigger lesson than any other. But we will come out of this stronger together.”

He roughs the hair that’s fallen over my face with one hand, then grips my chin gently to lift my gaze up toward his. I can’t see him through the haze of darkness, but I don’t need to. I feel him as easily as I do Elsbeth in the other room.

“I’ve got you, Mads.”

My throat tightens at that, but the vice around my chest loosens just a little.

We fall into silence again, and I stare up at the cracks in the plaster over our heads. They start at the chandelier in the center and splinter off in all directions. Counting my breaths and emptying my thoughts, I follow each line as they lead out to an abrupt stop then retrace them to the brass fixture.

I’m not sure if it’s real or my mind is playing tricks on me, but I hear Elsbeth once again—restlessly pacing the floor in the other room. With every step, I can feel my heart rate rising. The strain of silence against plaster walls starts to make my spine itch. The stillness of the trees outside and my blood pumping through my veins tease at my magic.

Goose bumps prick up my arms like my skin is the only barrier separating this newfound energy surging through the air.

Does Asher feel it too? Or is his resolve more potent than my own?

I glance over to see his eyes shut and his breathing steady. Focusing all my concentration, I let loose a small tendril of magic to reach for his. A soft prod to remind myself that I am not alone, even if I’m the only one battling invisible demons.

What I don’t expect to feel is the tang of sour reality threading through the earth and vegetation that my magic is always wrapped in. I can’t put a name to the cold and pungent layer of ozone that filters through me, but it turns my stomach.

The foreign bit of magic is a patchwork of sensations. Like it’s not all its own and carries notes of Fox and Thorne as well. Smoke and rain cloud my vision the harder I try to push past them to get to the lowest level, prodding it to reveal itself to me. But as soon as the layers start to peel away, it vanishes. She retreats. Whether out of fear, weakness, or self-preservation, the energy is gone and I’m left with a desolate cavern in my gut.

Asher stirs at my side but doesn’t wake fully. His hand between us moves over the blankets and settles on mine. But it’s not enough contact. I move into his side and he turns to face me, scooping me into his chest with his muscular bicep. Our bodies embrace the way we’ve always done. The four of us have never shied away from physical intimacy with one another. But tonight, knowing Asher is close and that he, too, needs comfort is more important than ever.

His body relaxes and envelopes mine, driving my concerns far enough away that I sink into the void of sleep.

20

THORNE

The heart-shaped locket dangles from its thin gold chain above my head. Its delicate links wrapped around my index finger are cutting off my circulation, but I don’t care. It’s the closest I can be to her, to the Elsbeth I knew . . . or thought I knew. I’ve spent hours organizing the memories into metaphorical piles. Her favorite foods, colors, music—is it all a lie, or did she give me small bits of truth?

She always wears dark earth tones. Her favorite days in the gym are cardio and legs. Even though she doesn’t like peanuts, she loves peanut butter. She drinks coffee in the morning, but tea at night. No siblings, but her father lives in New York. Her and her mother have a strained relationship, but she always calls her on Sunday nights for their weekly update, unless her mother is out of town or Elsbeth needs to study for an exam. That will have to be her excuse this week.

I weigh each fact and realize none of them hold much significance. They’re all things you tell a talkative stranger in line at the grocery store. And somehow that makes the anxious energy buzzing in my chest angrier. Because I wanted to know everything about her. For weeks, I watched for her at the gym, hoping she’d show up and I’d have a chance to talk to her. When she finally did take notice, I did my best to stay aloof and interesting, but deep down all I wanted was to take her somewhere private and keep her all to myself.

Now, she’s in our house and the thought of hearing her move around from a wall away makes my skin crawl. The woman next door is a stranger. Her footsteps pacing the floor may as well be another ghost haunting the old manor.

That last piece of the Elsbeth I knew slowly sways back and forth with my finger’s pulse. I’ve never seen her without it. Whether we were at the gym, chatting outside the building after a session, or on the one date we had, this keepsake hung around her neck. The pendent is slightly discolored from constant wear, and the edged design has been worn almost smooth by years of the pad of her thumb rubbing at it when she talked. I watched her do it so many times. I wonder if that was a tell or just a nervous habit. And now that it’s gone, what is she using to soothe herself?

I want to go into her room and demand answers. Rage and betrayal alternate between gentle flames over coals and an inferno that threatens to catch the entire house on fire and burn everything to the ground with her and I trapped inside. Because if I have to suffer through the blaze of her treachery, I’ll take her with me.

Instead, I have to go in to the firm to tie up loose ends before fall break. While concealing a crime should be reason enough for me to call in sick, it’s important that we keep up appearances where we can in case she does find a cop that will believe her—and who isn’t on the coven’s payroll.

After shuffling papers for a few hours, Maddox and I will have to visit Asher’s family home and bestow the Moreys with their blessings from our harvest. It’s not customary to skip our older generations, but with Mariana’s blessing, arrangements have been changed.

Of the former legacies, the Morey’s who will be the first to receive their blessings, but it should be Asher who shares our gifts with his line. It’s not mandated, but it may raise suspicion. As far as his father will know, Asher has been stricken with the flu. But in reality, we can’t risk him not being fully charged.

To waste time, I decide to shower. Getting out of bed, I grab my towel from the hook on the back of my door and open it to find Elsbeth standing right outside my room. Her arms are crossed, back flat to the wall, and her eyes looking up at me as if she were preparing for this conflict for hours. I pan down her body to the oversized T-shirt she’s wearing . . . my T-shirt. Long, bare legs and feet with the stain of black from the lines we drew to contain her greet me. So much for that.

“I take it that you didn’t get much sleep last night,” I say, glancing down the hall to Asher and Fox’s closed doors.

“Did you?” The familiarity of her voice is sharpened to a threatening point. Her usual flirty, confident tone has been replaced with, I believe, her true nature. Calculated, viper like, and steady.

“Like a baby,” I lie.

I fell asleep once, only to find her in my dream. I woke up in a cold sweat and figured if I’m going to be plagued with her, it may as well be in the physical plane.

I wonder if she’s tried to leave yet? The bounds of the markings on the floor aren’t the only measures we took, but has she realized how trapped she actually is?