Eternal Promise: (The Cursed Series, Book 5)

by Kara Leigh Miller

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She checked my vitals, then did a quick check on my ribs.

  Each time she touched me, it felt like someone was stabbing me with knives. I gritted my teeth, and when she finished, I blew out a heavy breath. Tears of pain had formed in the corners of my eyes.

  “With a little bit of time, you’re going to be just fine,” she reassured me. “I’ll let everyone know they can come back in.” She opened the door, then turned back. “And congratulations.” She winked.

  As soon as she was gone, Whitney, Colt, Karina, Isach, Abby, and Trent returned. Where were Aunt Beth and Uncle Dean? Were they still in the billing office? What was taking them so long? Ugh. I hoped they hadn’t called my dad.

  “Everything all right?” Trent asked.

  “Yeah.” I smiled at him. “Everything’s great.”

  I was going to have to thank him later, and I was going to have to tell Abby even more stuff—I had no idea how she wasn’t completely overwhelmed yet.

  “I can give you something that will help you heal faster,” Isach said. “If you want.”

  I raised a brow, surprised by his offer. “Really? That would be great. I do not want to be forced to rest for six weeks. I have too much to do.”

  “I’ll get it for you once you’re home.” Isach smiled, but it was forced. A war waged behind his green eyes.

  “Guess there are some benefits to having a witchy best friend,” Colt said.

  I glared at him, and he grinned in response. It was no secret that vampires and witches didn’t exactly get along, but Colt’s sarcastic comments were uncalled for.

  “Let’s get back on topic.” Whitney’s tone was fierce, and she crossed her arms. “Felicity. She’s a rogue witch. From what coven? And why is she after Chloe?” Whitney wasn’t wasting any time.

  Isach dragged his hand through his hair again. “My coven.”

  I closed my eyes, willing the sudden and thick nausea to stay away.

  “She’s a rogue Zoya?” Trent asked, and the calmness that had been in his tone disappeared, replaced with pure fear.

  “Yes.” Isach nodded. “She used to be a very high-ranking witch, but she started to question certain things, and she caused a divide within the coven. Rector wouldn’t allow that, so he cast her out for betraying him.”

  “She’s also the same witch that Dante was messing around with,” Colt said. He crossed his arms, his gaze severe. “I have no idea why or what they were doing, but it can’t be a coincidence she’s here now.”

  Trent muttered a string of curses. “So, if she’s here, then Dante probably isn’t too far behind.”

  “Probably not,” Colt said.

  My gaze lingered on Karina, who was as white as the hospital sheet draped across my legs. “You said there was no way for Dante to trace you to the Halsteads,” I said to Colt.

  “I didn’t think he could, but if he’s working with a rogue witch…” Colt shrugged.

  “Not just any rogue witch. A Zoya. And I’m pretty sure Rector was having an affair with her, too.” Isach paced at the foot of the bed. “For a while after she was cast out, she just disappeared. At least, that’s what the coven had been told. Personally, I think Rector was watching her, but who knows.”

  Something nagged at the back of my mind, a thought I couldn’t quite grasp, but it swirled around, just out of reach. I sighed with frustration, and Trent was immediately on the edge of the bed again.

  “Everything okay?” Trent asked.

  “Yeah.” I nodded at Isach to continue.

  Isach took a deep breath. “A little over ten years ago, she suddenly resurfaced and begged to return to the coven. She was refused, and then she swore she’d find a way back in, that she’d prove her allegiance to Rector.”

  All at once, the pieces clicked into place. Isach said witches aged very slowly and could live for a few hundred years. How old was Isach? I’d never once thought to ask him. Had he told Abby? Then, another thought slammed into me with all the weight of a freight train.

  “Is Rector still alive?” I asked.

  Everything and everyone in the room seemed to stop, and time stood still for several moments. No one spoke, and my heart raced, the sound of the monitor rising with each erratic beat.

  “Is he?” I demanded.

  “He’s my father,” Isach said.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN:

  Sins of the Father

  “YOUR FATHER?” I SHOUTED, WHICH CAUSED another stab of pain. I cringed and shifted ever so slightly, just enough to ease the throbbing. “Did you know about this?” I asked Trent.

  He averted his gaze and dragged his hand through his hair. “Yes,” he finally said.

  My jaw dropped. “How could you not tell me?” I whispered, horrified. I knew Isach was a Zoya, but I never once realized he was Rector’s son. That changed everything!

  “This is why you never trust a witch,” Colt said, shaking his head with disgust.

  “Shut up, Colt,” I snapped, then turned my attention back to Trent and Isach. “Well? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

  “Does it matter?” Trent asked. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  “He’s right,” Isach said, standing near the window, arms crossed. “I still want out of my coven, and I have no intention of going back on any of the promises I’ve made. To any of you.” He pinned Abby with a desperate stare, and she gave him a small smile in return.

  Sweat beaded on my brow, and the room began to spin. I closed my eyes and took several deep breaths. How could they act like this wasn’t a big deal? If Rector was so unforgiving and cruel to a high-ranking witch in his coven, what would he do to his own son?

  Worry wiggled its way through my veins. Everything Isach had been doing was risky before, but now, it was suicide.

  “We stick to the plan,” Isach said, his voice unnaturally calm. “You and Trent get married, have a baby, and then you break the curse. With the Rose Coven’s help, we can stop the Zoya once and for all.”

  I’d been scared to death when I thought we had to face the Zoya Coven, but now that I knew we had to face Rector, too? Even if the curse was broken and Rector was weakened, he had centuries of magic at his disposal. He’d invoked the magic and anger of his ancestors once before. What would stop him from doing so again?

  And Trent and I were planning to have a baby? He’d been right—it was selfish and dangerous to bring an innocent child into the middle of this. What had I been thinking? I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes in a pathetic attempt to stop the tears from slipping free.

  “Chloe, honey.” Trent eased onto the bed and carefully wrapped an arm around me. “It’s going to be okay.”

  I wanted nothing more than to curl up to his side, to rest my head on his chest and bask in the comfort he so willingly offered, but I couldn’t physically do that right now. So, I stayed still, fighting hard against the sobs that wanted to break free. For once, Trent was wrong. Nothing was okay.

  “What about Felicity?” I asked, my throat raw.

  Facing Rector and the entire Zoya Coven would be hard enough without some rogue witch wreaking havoc and trying to kill me.

  “I have no idea why she’s back. She’s either trying to do something to win back Rector’s favor, or…” Isach sighed.

  “Or she has nothing to do with Rector and the Zoya, and she’s here because of Dante,” Colt said.

  “Or she’s completely lost her mind and is just harming people because she thinks it’s fun,” Isach said, shooting Colt a dirty look.

  “Or maybe she’s working with Rector,” Whitney said, her tone icy. She sliced a look at me, then Trent before returning her attention to Isach. “Maybe he told her to follow you, to see what you’ve been up to. Or, maybe you’re working with both of them. For all we know, you’ve gotten close to us so you can spy for your father.”

  “Whitney!” Trent snapped. “Knock it off.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head.
“He”—she jabbed her finger in Isach’s direction—”has spent his life with Rector and the Zoya. They’ve trained him to hate you and your family, Trent. He tried to kill Chloe for God’s sake, and then he suddenly decides to help you save her. Why would he do that?”

  My eyes darted to Abby, whose mouth was wide open, her face pale. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of what Isach had done.

  “Go easy, Whitney,” I said, pleading with my eyes. She didn’t need to make Abby feel any worse about things, and I wasn’t thrilled with how she was accusing Isach of being a traitor.

  “Seriously, Whitney. You don’t really believe Isach is playing all of us, do you?” Abby asked, her tone much calmer than I expected.

  “I don’t know. It’s all very suspicious, don’t you think?” Whitney said, her tone just as cool as it had been before.

  “That’s enough,” I said.

  Granted, her arguments were logically sound, but my gut was telling me they weren’t true. Isach wasn’t a bad guy, not anymore, and I’d trust him with my life. I was trusting him with my life.

  Besides, the Zoya hadn’t made a single move against me or Trent, which led me to believe they still had no idea I even existed. If anything, Colt’s theory made more sense than Isach betraying all of us.

  “Look, I know what my father has done, but I’m not him. Don’t blame me for my father’s actions. I’ve never had a say in them,” Isach said vehemently. “Besides, if I was still loyal to my coven, I never would’ve helped Trent rescue Chloe from Ivy. I would’ve just found her on my own and killed her.”

  My body tensed. There was something disturbing about how Isach talked about killing me as if it were no big deal. Then again, he had tried to do exactly that once before.

  “And Felicity? You’re not working with her?” Trent asked, though his tone wasn’t anywhere near as accusatory as Whitney’s.

  “No,” Isach said, giving a firm shake of his head. “But maybe we should consider it.”

  “What?” I laughed incredulously, then cringed in pain. “You’re joking, right? You told us her magic is weakened, and that she’s crazy. Why would we want to work with her?”

  Isach shrugged. “Because we’re going to need all the help we can get, and if she joins Ivy’s coven, her magic can be restored.”

  “It’s not a bad idea.” Trent stroked my hair. “Revenge is a strong motivator. She might want to get even with Rector more than she wants to get back into his coven.”

  “Absolutely not.” Whitney shook her head. “We can’t trust her. What if she agrees to help us and then decides to run back to Rector and tell him everything?”

  “I’m with Whitney on this one,” Colt said. “Especially knowing Felicity’s been involved with Dante. Trying to work with her is just plain stupid.”

  “So, what’re we going to do about her, then?” Trent asked.

  Colt shrugged. “No idea, but as long as she’s lurking, it’s not safe here for me and Karina. We’re going to have to leave.” He frowned.

  “No,” Trent said with a hard shake of his head. “You just came back. There’s no way you’re leaving again.”

  “Yeah?” Colt raised a brow, his tone level, but there was a hint of something sinister. “Would you stick around if it were Chloe in danger?”

  “I am in danger,” I said. Seemed like I was always in danger nowadays.

  “You’re safer here. With us,” Trent said. “We can help protect you and Karina. There’s always strength in numbers.” His tone bordered on panic.

  As jealous as I had been lately, I didn’t want Colt to leave. Losing him again would crush Trent, and I didn’t want that for him. I didn’t want it for Jax or Sean, either. And I liked Karina. She and I were building a solid friendship—I didn’t want to lose that.

  “He’s right,” Whitney said softly. “At least stay until we figure out what’s going on with Felicity.”

  “They’re right,” Karina said. “We should stay.” She placed her hand on Colt’s arm, and his posture relaxed. He gave a small nod.

  I closed my eyes again, the pain in my temples increasing with every word they spoke. “My head is killing me. Can we please talk about this later?” I couldn’t think straight, and this wasn’t a conversation I could have right now.

  “Oh, Chloe.” Aunt Beth rushed into the room, Uncle Dean on her heels. She stopped short of hugging me, though, thankfully. “How are you?”

  “Sore and tired,” I said.

  Trent moved from the bed.

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” Uncle Dean said.

  I waited for one of them to ask why I was skipping school, but neither of them did, so I kept my mouth shut about that, too. Right now, I really just wanted some aspirin and to lay down in a quiet, dark room—preferably with Trent, though I doubted Aunt Beth and Uncle Dean would let me spend the weekend at Whitney’s now.

  The same nurse from earlier bustled into the room carrying a stack of papers. “Ready to go home?” she said with a cheery tone.

  “Yes,” I said.

  The nurse went through all the at-home care instructions and when to follow-up with a doctor. Then she officially discharged me and walked out of the room as quickly as she’d walked in.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood, which caused blood to rush to my head. I swayed on my feet, and Trent steadied me. Spots blinked in front of my eyes. I winced.

  “Ow.” I reached up to massage my temples, and that caused pain to shoot across my ribcage. Isach couldn’t get me that potion fast enough.

  “Dean, go bring the car around,” Aunt Beth said, shooing him from the room.

  How was I supposed to walk out to the car? Didn’t they normally escort patients down in a wheelchair? Not that I wanted to be wheeled around, but between the broken ribs and the violent headache, there was no way I was walking out of here on my own.

  “What’s wrong?” Trent asked.

  “My head.” I’d never had migraines before, but I imagined this must be how they felt. The bright lights only made it worse.

  “Want me to carry you?” he asked.

  I shook my head. That would cause too much pain in my ribs. Tears spilled down my cheeks.

  Whitney breezed out of the room and returned seconds later pushing a wheelchair. “Sit,” she ordered. Her entire tone and demeanor today was scary, and I wasn’t about to argue with her.

  Trent helped me ease into the wheelchair. “Better?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Thanks,” I said.

  “Okay, let’s get you home and into bed,” Aunt Beth said to me, then turned to Abby. “And I expect you to follow us.”

  “No,” I said, my voice weak. “I’m not going home. I’m going to Whitney’s.”

  Aunt Beth’s eyes widened like she couldn’t believe I’d disagreed with her, probably because I rarely ever did, but I wasn’t budging this time.

  “Excuse me?” she said, planting a hand on her hip.

  “We need to finish planning the wedding.” It was a weak excuse, but it was the only one I had.

  “Don’t worry, Beth,” Whitney said sweetly. “I will take super good care of her. And I promise we’ll just sit around and make decisions. We won’t leave the house.”

  “If Chloe’s going, so am I.” Abby crossed her arms defiantly. “I am the maid-of-honor. I need to be there.”

  “Please, Aunt Beth?” I begged as fresh tears streamed down my face.

  She dropped her hand from her hip and sighed. “Fine, but I want a phone call as soon as you get there, and I want hourly updates. Got it?”

  “I will personally call you every hour.” Whitney smiled.

  I had no idea how she did it, but she’d won Aunt Beth’s trust immediately, and she consistently used that to our advantage. I was going to have to do something special for her to show my gratitude.

  Aunt Beth nodded, and my body slumped with relief. Trent wheeled me downstairs where Uncle Dean was waiting near the front entrance. Aunt Beth hurr
ied around to the driver’s side to tell him what was going on, and he frowned, clearly displeased.

  “Can we please just go?” I muttered.

  “Stay with her,” Trent said to Whitney. “I’ll go get my truck.”

  Aunt Beth crouched in front of me, her hands resting gently on my knees. “We love you.” She rose, kissed the top of my head, then turned her attention to Abby.

  I tuned them out and glanced at Isach. His head was down, hands shoved into his pockets, guilt pouring from him.

  “Isach,” I said.

  He lifted his head, then cautiously approached, his gaze darting toward Whitney as if he didn’t trust her not to attack, and I couldn’t blame him. She’d been harsh.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Look, I know things are crazy right now, but I don’t blame you, okay?” I kept my voice low so Aunt Beth wouldn’t hear what I said. “I know Whitney’s concerned, but I don’t think anything she said is true. I know you wouldn’t hurt us like that.”

  Or rather, I knew he wouldn’t hurt Abby in that way, and that meant he couldn’t really harm me or Trent, either, because that would really hurt Abby.

  “Thank you,” he said, sincerity ringing in his tone.

  “And Whitney?” I couldn’t physical twist around to look at her, but she stepped to my side. “Go easy on him, okay? If I or Trent were judged based on the actions of our fathers, we wouldn’t be very good people, either.”

  Isach gave me a grateful smile.

  “You’re too good sometimes, Chloe.” Whitney sighed. “But fine. I’ll trust him until he gives me a reason not to.”

  That was better than nothing. There was still a lot we needed to figure out, and we would. But tonight, I just wanted to sleep.

  Trent pulled up in his truck, hopped out, and opened the passenger door for me. Aunt Beth gave me another kiss and reminded me and Abby—again—to check in regularly. Then she got into Uncle Dean’s car, and they left. I couldn’t believe they actually agreed to let us stay with Whitney. I’d expected a bigger fight.

  Once I was securely buckled in Trent’s truck—which was extremely painful across my ribs—we headed to his house, and he drove slower than I’d ever seen him drive.