by Ivy Asher
“Not to mention,” I hurry on, hoping everyone in the room will forget my creepy word vomit and focus only on the valid points I’m making, “life’s tapestry or not, how Rogan and I became tethered in the first place was wrong on every level. Whether it could all work out for the best or not, I don’t know anything good that’s ever come from having your choice or your say taken away. Could I find the positives if I wanted to look for them? I’m sure I could, but I shouldn’t have to. What happened was done for the wrong reasons, and it needs to be fixed.”
I can feel Rogan’s eyes on me, but I don’t look over. There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’s not going to make fun of me for what just happened, but I can hold him off for a little while by pretending he’s not there.
The coven doesn’t say anything, and I watch each of the seven witches consider and weigh my words.
“And, nephew, how do you feel about what’s been said and pointed out for your consideration?” Alora asks.
He crosses his legs, the ankle of one leg resting on the knee of the other as he seems to contemplate the question. “I think I’d like to understand more about the separation process,” he eventually voices. I was expecting him to dive into how he feels about what I said, but the logistics of it all are technically valid too. “Is it dangerous? What are the risks?” he continues.
Dave studies Rogan, his head slightly cocked as though he’s listening intently to something. “Well, right now the two of you are connected. You can tap into the other’s abilities or use both lines of magic at the same time. You can track and apparate to one another using the tether. It will work to pull the two of you closer together, urge you to strengthen the bond and use it to protect each other.”
“Tethers can manifest and develop differently depending on the magic of the bonded and how the connection is used,” Alora adds. “Our tether, for example, has changed over time. Different abilities and consequences have manifested over the years. However, because there are so many variables, we can’t say for certain how each one will build and blossom, or wilt and die if it be the will of the bonded.”
“I’m sorry, but did you just say that you’re tethered?” I ask, completely taken aback by the admission.
Alora gives me a warm smile. “Yes. I am tethered to both my husband and my wife,” she explains as though there aren’t a million things about that sentence that just blew my mind. “That’s why Rogan came to us for help,” she adds as though that should have been obvious.
This time I do look over at Rogan. I glare at the side of his face, but he doesn’t turn to meet my eyes. I guess we’re back to the need to know bullshit I thought we had gotten past. Irritation bubbles up through me, and I start to feel my patience for this whole Q and A session start to wane.
“If we sever the tether today, it will take time. We won’t know the depth of the connections until we tap into your bond. You’ll both need to be prepared for a long and trying ordeal. It’s possible that your magic may fight separation. You could lose certain abilities for a period of time, or all together, depending on what kind of damage, if any, you sustain. You may have issues with loneliness afterward, or struggle to feel complete. There have been times where the breaks are clean and relatively easy, but magic is hard to predict, and we always err on the side of caution,” Harmony explains.
I feel like I just listened to an ad for some prescription medication where they have to list all the fucked up side effects at the end. I mean, I should probably be grateful that anal leakage wasn’t mentioned, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say the rest of what could happen scares the shit out of me.
Anger unfurls in my chest and digs into me like talons. I fight the urge to rage at Rogan for putting me in a situation where I have to deal with this crap in the first place. But I doubt his family would take my tantrum well, so instead, I pull in a deep breath and tell myself, either way, it will all be over soon.
“So, what do we need to do to get started?” I ask.
“We need to gather some supplies and some spells, but we can begin in an hour’s time,” Alora states, watching me as though she’s waiting for my cue. I take a moment and then nod my agreement. Her gray eyes move to Rogan, and he must nod too, because she smiles and then pushes up from the table.
Then everything seems to happen in fast-forward. Dave confiscates Rogan to help him get the necessary texts in the library. Harmony tells me to pretty much carb load in preparation for whatever is about to happen. I’m whisked out of the room like I’m Dorothy headed for Oz, and I feel like I was just left alone by the only person I know at a party. I’m now surrounded by a bunch of strangers, feeling awkward as hell and trying to figure out if I should just bop in place to the music until the person I know comes back for me, try to make small talk with random people, or just stare into the abyss and hope it takes mercy on me and swallows me up.
“Can you point me in the direction of the bathroom?” I ask the redheaded witch, whose name I forgot again. Warren, maybe?
He guides me to the closest lavatory, and I immediately shut myself in and try to stave off the myriad of emotions all clamoring for my immediate attention. I suddenly feel as though everything is happening too fast, and yet somehow, at the same time, not fast enough. Time feels like my mortal enemy right now.
I take a moment to get a hold of myself, to breathe through everything that’s hammering at me. I’m making the correct choice...right?
My reflection stares back at me, answerless as I splash water on my face. I sift through my toffee-brown gaze and dive into my gut and sit with it for a moment. What is it telling me? After several beats of introspection, I focus back on my face and nod.
“I can do this,” I tell the girl in the mirror, and with that shitty pep talk, I step out of the bathroom.
I look for Warren in the hall, but he’s nowhere to be seen. I hesitate for a second, not sure exactly which way we came from to end up here. I step left out of the bathroom and then change my mind and backtrack going right. I jump when a head suddenly pops out around the corner. Brown eyes seem to fill with relief when they spot me, and the woman hurries toward me, her steps oddly loud against the floor.
I watch as she takes a moment to look around as though she’s checking for other people before she settles a now very intense gaze on me.
“You shouldn’t trust him,” she whispers out of nowhere in warning.
My brow furrows in surprised disbelief, not sure how to respond to that. “Trust who?” I finally ask, not sure who exactly she’s referring to.
“The renounced one,” she clarifies, studying my reaction as though she’s expecting me to be surprised by this news. I don’t miss the shiver that seems to crawl up her spine as she delivers what she thinks is shocking information.
“You don’t know his heart, Osteomancer, you should get far away from him, right now! He’s dangerous,” she adds, her tone suddenly scared as she once again checks that no one else is making their way to us down the hallway. “If you follow me, I can get you away, but you’d have to come now,” she commands, moving past me hurriedly as though there isn’t even time for me to consider or debate what she’s saying.
At first I hurry after her, mostly because that’s what you do when someone tells you to follow and then starts practically running away. But then it dawns on me that this could be a really bad idea. I don’t know who this person is. Taking her word at face value suddenly doesn’t make any sense.
I don’t know exactly who is kidnapping witches, but someone is. And I’m not about to get myself snatched because I was too polite to say hold the fuck up and answer some questions for me before we go any further.
I stop and the woman looks back at me confused. “Who are you?” I demand firmly, studying her face so I can commit it to memory. Her eyes are the same dark brown as her straight, shoulder-length hair. There is a smattering of freckles dusting her nose and cheeks, and she has a small scar just above her top lip.
“I’m a
friend,” she offers vaguely, turning back and continuing her path down the hallway.
Yep. This is a hard pass all around.
I turn and start to run in the other direction. I force my legs to move faster as I try to listen for the telltale sound of pursuing footsteps behind me, but all I can hear is the heavy beat of my own pulse as adrenaline stomps through me like it’s a Clydesdale.
I’m out of the hallway and rounding a corner in no time. I slam full speed right into a large hard body, yelping with alarm as strong arms grab me and keep me from tumbling sideways. Fear and my survival instincts kick in hard, but relief washes through me like a cool balm when I look up to find that it’s Rogan that I’ve just bodychecked.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, taking me in before pulling me into him protectively and searching around us for whatever set off the panic I know is written all over my face. “What happened, Lennox?” he demands as I look to see if the woman came running after me, but there’s no one there.
“Some woman tried to get me to go with her,” I explain, realizing how lame and ridiculous I sound. “I didn’t recognize her, she said you couldn’t be trusted and that if I went with her, she could get me out of the house. I started to follow her and then realized that was a stupid idea, so I ran until I...” I gesture between us, signaling the collision that just happened, panting to collect my breath from the impromptu sprint I just did.
Rogan’s eyes continue to search around us as he pulls me tighter against him. “Okay, let’s go,” he orders, and then we’re both jogging through hallways to who knows where.
“Do you think we’re in danger here?” I ask as we hurry back in the direction of the council room. Or at least I assume that’s where we’re going. I’m seriously turned around in this place.
“I don’t know, but I think all of this is too risky,” he declares adamantly, his focus trained on getting us far away from the potential threat as quickly as possible. “This just cements that even more,” he tells me cryptically.
“What do you mean?” I press as I follow him through a door that has us suddenly spilling outside into the gardens. Rogan keeps going, but I stop, completely confused. “Rogan, what are you doing?” I demand, bewildered by why we would be in the garden and not holding up in the house where it would be safer.
“Lennox, we need to go,” he barks at me, closing the distance between us like he’s prepared to carry me away if he needs to.
“You’re not making any sense,” I snap at him. “We need to sever the tether. We can only do that in there,” I point out, gesturing back toward the house.
“No, we need to use it,” Rogan states matter-of-factly, his eyes hard and filled with determination that all at once makes me feel uneasy. “My aunt was right; things happen the way they are supposed to. This bond could be the thing that saves Elon,” he declares, and my stomach sinks as panic floods me.
Rogan must see in my eyes the moment I decide to run. I don’t take more than a step away from him before he’s pulling me against him and locking himself around me. My magic flares angrily, but before I can do anything, Rogan marks me with blood and calls out, “Seno.”
Betrayal shatters through me, the treacherous shards ripping me open from the inside out. I fight the blackness that tries to take root in my mind, refusing to let it take over. I pull on my magic as hard as I can, desperately trying to stave off unconsciousness by wrapping power protectively around me. And that’s when I see the tether, the bastard connection that started all of this shit in the first place.
I know I’m not supposed to mess with it, but if it’s the difference between me passing out or fighting, I’m going to fucking fight. I pull the tether closer, suddenly siphoning Rogan’s blood magic into me. Immediately the blackout spell fizzles into nothing, and I pull on both magical reserves, ready to fuck Rogan up.
I don’t think I’ve ever been so mad and hurt in my life. Not even after reading my dad’s note, and I thought nothing would scar me the way that did. Sorrow moves through me, tainting things that I thought were good and happy. I feel so completely stupid that I let Rogan in, that I even tried to trust him, and now here he is, once again deciding what’s best with not a care or concern about how I feel, or a thought to ask me.
Well, I just hit my limit with Rogan fucking Kendrick. I throw my elbow back hard, nailing him in the side of the face. I shove magic into him, trying to overload him enough that he’s forced to loosen his hold on me. I snarl and growl as I push and kick to get away, and just as I feel Rogan’s arms loosen, a familiar face steps into view in front of me.
Seemingly out of nowhere, Prek strides toward us. Alarm sucker punches me in the mouth, and I wait for him to attack without hesitation like he did before. Confusion and fear settle over everything inside of me, and I hate that the Order member’s presence sets off an involuntary reaction that has me worried for Rogan and for myself. I shove that useless concern away and try not to get pulled under by the trepidation and turmoil that’s crashing through me.
Prek doesn’t attack Rogan like I expect he will. Instead, he opens his fist and blows a powder into my face. Satisfaction fills his russet-brown gaze, his smile widening as I start to panic and hold my breath. Rogan’s arms tighten around me as I throw my head back in an effort to break his nose with the back of my skull and evade the mist of magic still floating in the air around me.
Magic spills out of me like some feral beast intent on ripping everything in its path to shreds, but in a blink, my connection to it is severed. I reach for both branches of magic again, but it’s as though I hit a wall within myself that keeps me from reaching my power. I feel terrified and exposed as I try over and over again to the same end. I can feel my magic right where it’s supposed to be, but no matter how I try, I can’t get to it. I’m left hollow and reeling, as my head starts to feel hazy and dread takes up residence in my chest.
“I thought a little payback was in order,” Prek says to me, brushing the rest of the powder off his hands as my head lolls to the side, my muscles one by one no longer able to answer my commands. An impotent keening spills from my lips as I lose all control of my body and slump against Rogan, the cage of his arms the only thing keeping me from falling.
“I would say you acted admirably by calling us, Kendrick, but it’s you we’re talking about. Hand her over, I’ll take it from here,” Prek orders arrogantly.
“If you think I’m just going to leave her in your care, no questions asked, then you’re dumber than I always thought you were,” Rogan growls out, pulling me closer to him. “I’m coming with her Prek; that’s the deal I arranged with the Order, and you know it.”
Silence envelops me, and I feel like I’m breaking into so many pieces that there’s no hope I’ll ever be whole again. Rogan called the Order. Rogan, who hates them with every fiber of his being, who was betrayed by them at the highest level and in the deepest ways. He invited them here to hand me over like I’m nothing more than the ticket he needed to the investigation.
“I’m aware of the bullshit you and Marx negotiated, but you don’t run the show, Rogan. I don’t take orders from you,” Prek snaps back. “Now hand her to me.”
“Not happening, Prek, and if you ask one more time, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure the only thing you do for the Order from here on out is clean dried shit out of the toilet bowls. The agreement was that I would hand her over only if I was brought in on the case too. Either honor that or call a team here who will. We both know what will happen to you if you go back on what was already promised to me by witches farther up the ranks than you.”
Treachery hits me like a freight train. I’m nothing more than a bargaining chip. Rogan knows I’m not safe. He knows what they might do to me. But there isn’t an ounce of concern in his voice about anything other than getting what he wants. I’ve always heard that blood is thicker than water; Elon will be grateful to hear that, for his brother, that’s true.
Agony rips me apart, and although I
can’t move, I can feel a tear as it spills down my cheek. I was such a dumbass. I thought I could trust him.
Rogan adjusts his hold on me, lifting me until he’s secured me bridal style against him. I’m disoriented as he repositions me like an inconvenient sack of flour. The next thing I know, my cheek is pressed against his shoulder, forcing me to breathe him in far too intimately, more than I’ll ever want to do again.
Prek doesn’t say a word or try to take me from him anymore. He walks away from Rogan and me, but I can’t turn my head to follow where he goes. I assume that means Rogan won this round of petty bullshit. My eyes focus on Rogan as he brings his face into my unblinking line of sight. Another tear slips down my cheek as his green eyes take me in.
“It’s okay, Lennox, I’m here,” he reassures me, but nothing could be further from the truth.
I can’t yell, or rage, or make him hurt as badly as he’s made me hurt in this moment. But I let my eyes fill with promises of suffering and retribution. I don’t give a fuck what I have to do, I will make him regret the day he ever laid eyes on me. I feel the prick of a needle in my neck, and then just like the first time Rogan Kendrick betrayed me...everything fades to black.
The End, for now...
Also by Ivy Asher
The Sentinel World
The Lost Sentinel
The Lost and the Chosen
Awakened and Betrayed
The Marked and the Broken
Found and Forged
Shadowed Wings
The Hidden
The Avowed
The Reclamation
More in the Sentinel World coming soon.