To Tame A Wild Heart: A Zyne Witch Urban Fantasy Romance (Zyne Legacy Romance Book 1)

by Gwen Mitchell

  She never made a comment about Audrey’s lack of table manners and was engrossed by the things she’d been forced to eat in her years hitching her way back and forth across the country. The wrinkle in Tilly’s nose at the idea of a rattlesnake and cactus sandwich lightened Audrey’s heart as her stomach got heavier.

  Two-thirds through the most sublime BLT she’d ever eaten and a heap of golden fries, Audrey remembered she was supposed to be on recon. She wiped her hands and mouth with her linen napkin, took a sip of some fizzy tonic, and leaned back, rubbing her expanding belly. “So… how long have you worked here? Is this a pretty good gig?”

  Tilly didn’t pause in her dough-kneading or look up, the muscles in her pale, freckled forearms bunching. “I’ve been at the Arcanum my whole life, my mother before me. That was in Cairngorms, where I was born. I transferred here…hmm… must be twenty years ago now.”

  “You weren’t recruited?” She made no effort to hide the distaste in her tone.

  “No, not me. There are a few recruits who stay on after, but not many. Some become mentors, others join the Synod as Legacy guardians or councilors. Most move on and join another coven somewhere.”

  “So they all make it out of here with their powers intact?”

  Tilly flipped the dough, her pretty face pinched as if she weren’t sure how much to say. “Most do. Some choose to return to their mundane lives rather than follow the Threefold Path. But living without magic? An easy choice, if you ask me.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that it’s either their way or nothing? What if I want to keep my powers and just live on my own?”

  She paused, as if she’d never considered it. “Magic is dangerous, and it must be regulated. The Synod was created to keep the Legacy intact and safe. You can live on your own, but you must be in a licensed coven, and getting approval isn’t easy. But I think they’re easing up on that as time goes on. The Synod would rather have more witches out in the world than less. We’re a dying breed, you know.”

  Interesting.

  Audrey took a minute to digest that before diving back into her brunch. There was the option of jumping through the Synod’s hoops and earning her freedom back. Maybe she could learn something useful from them in the meantime. But that all depended on what they would ask of her. Learning more about her powers and where they came from was very tempting, which was why she didn’t trust it. The Synod wasn’t there to help her—they wanted something.

  Besides, you won’t prove very trustworthy when you blow this joint ahead of schedule.

  She was leaving. Not just because of Lilly. It was more the principle of being held against her will. If they had sent her a brochure, maybe she would have come on her own. But she only had one reaction to being held captive, and it wasn’t play nice.

  “I know this must be very frightening. But by now you must see there’s nothing to fear. Look at Corvin—he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

  Audrey snorted. She’d seen him use that staff. You didn’t train to fight like that just for the sake of buff arms and tight abs. Yet, despite his sour attitude, he’d turned out to be… decent. Good, even. “He’s certainly got a bug up his butt about mentoring me. Guy does not hold back his opinions. I’m pretty sure he’s gonna dump me off on someone else at the first opportunity.”

  Tilly tsked as she rolled her dough out and twisted it into long loafs. “He’s just a bit rough ‘round the edges. Always favored animals over people, since he was a wee lad. He doesn’t take a liking to many, but I can tell he fancies you.”

  She said the last bit so casually, Audrey nearly missed it. “Really? How do you figure?”

  Tilly stood from popping her bread in one of the kitchen’s dozen ovens and started on the next batch of dough without missing a beat. “Just a feeling. He’s always smiled and hugged me on greeting, but with you here, he was Mr. Formal and Proper.”

  Audrey chewed thoughtfully, trying to follow that logic. “You think I make him self-conscious?”

  Tilly paused and smiled at her, a mischievous twinkle in her bright blue eyes. “Precisely.”

  “I don’t get it.” Though she knew Corvin found her attractive, or had, at least—he’d shown no signs of it this morning, besides that brief flare, which she could have imagined—it was pretty clear he pitied her. She was a thorn in his side, or a charity case, or at best a pet project. He did not seem like he was crushing on her at all.

  “Well, ye don’t know him yet. He’s hiding himself from you is what I mean.”

  “Hiding?”

  “Creating distance because he doesn’t want you to see him.”

  “Ah.” That made sense. In fact, it hit pretty close to the mark for her too. The more she liked someone, the more she kept her guard up. Maybe they were more alike than she realized. She gave Tilly the squinty eye. “Why are you telling me this?”

  She shrugged and set a steaming batch of bread on the counter to cool, then swiped a piece of rust-and-silver hair that had escaped from her careful pins off her brow. “I just think you might want to have a closer look is all.”

  I’m sure I would. So far, she liked what she saw of Corvin a little too much.

  The smells filling the kitchen were heavenly. Even though she was stuffed, Audrey was looking forward to lunch—fish stew and that divine bread. She took one final bite of her sandwich and pushed the plate away. “It sounds like you care about him.”

  A heavy sigh answered her. “Almost as if he were me own. He’s had a piece of my heart ever since he was a shy boy of six or seven, crying over the cruelty and injustice of rat traps.”

  It wasn’t hard to see the mother in Tilly. Queeny, on the other hand, seemed like a statue of one of those Greek goddesses, ruling on high from her mountaintop, only deigning to speak to her earth-begotten children when they’d angered her or had some part to play in her devious machinations. Audrey could picture Tilly sneaking a young Corvin treats as he played quietly in a corner of the kitchen. He had probably been a really cute kid, all serious with that dark pensive gaze, but with those ebony ringlets and rosy little cheeks…

  Where did that image come from?

  As if conjured from her thoughts, he appeared from around the corner in a swish of black robes, and Audrey couldn’t help smiling. He pressed a finger to his lips and glanced at Tilly, who hadn’t yet turned around.

  Audrey cocked an eyebrow but nodded, curious at what he was playing at. He set his staff gently against the wall and tiptoed toward the pantry on the far side of the room. She got up, rustling her plate and silverware as she walked to the sink in the opposite direction.

  “No use, I’ve not made the fudge yet, you little blighter,” Tilly said over her shoulder.

  Audrey chortled and dropped her dishes into the sink.

  Corvin stood propped in the pantry doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I was just testing you. Still sharp, even in your old age.”

  Tilly spun around with a wooden spoon in her hand and wagged it at him. “I’m not too old to put you over me knee, boy.”

  Corvin’s cheeks did take on a rosy hue then, and Audrey pursed her lips to hold back a smile.

  He cleared his throat, all business again. “Audrey, you’re going to be late.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, tossing him a mocking salute. She wasn’t apt to random displays of affection, but it felt odd to leave the kitchen without hugging Tilly. One of the many weird things about this place. She should hate it here, but it was a vast improvement over a lot of other situations she’d been stuck in.

  The petite woman felt sturdier than she looked and squeezed Audrey hard, pecking her on the cheek. “Don’t let him fool you,” she whispered as they let go.

  As she and Corvin walked down the main hall connecting the kitchen to the grandiose front entry, Corvin asked, “Was the food up to standard?”

  She shrugged as they strode side by side. If they were playing it close to the chest, she would always win. “It was fine. I enjoyed our chat.”
/>
  A small smile curled one side of his wide mouth. “I hope she didn’t talk your ear off. She doesn’t get much company usually.”

  “It was nice to gossip. I’ve had a lot more serious shit to deal with lately. It was kind of refreshing.” And there she was meaning to say one thing and revealing far more than she was comfortable with in the process. What was it about him that made her long to tell her whole damn story? To explain why she was…how she was.

  “Gossip? What could you possibly have to gossip about? You just got here yesterday.”

  It was Audrey’s turn to smile. “I’m very observant.”

  Somehow, he must have known she was trying to bait him. He wasn’t biting. They stopped in front of some foreboding, eight-foot-tall wooden doors. “I’ll be careful about what I reveal, then.”

  She studied his face through narrowed eyes. I’m sure you will. “So will I.”

  That flame winked at her in the depth of his gaze as his mouth slowly curled, then vanished when laughter filled his eyes. “She told you something.”

  Audrey cleared her throat. “Well, she did warn me about you.”

  “Really? What did she say?” he asked, braced against the door.

  “That you’re all bark and no bite.”

  Another flicker of that dark light. He leaned in closer to whisper, “I assure you, I do bite.”

  She didn’t know how to respond to that. Her body took that at as a promise of wicked deeds yet to come. Her head wasn’t sure if that was a flirt or a warning. She caught herself staring at him and shook her head before shoving the door open.

  She’d been in the large open room on the other side of the ornate wooden doors before—yesterday, when she’d woken up from her nightmarish escape from Parkview to find herself powerless and surrounded by Men in Black who also happened to turn into gigantic wolves. As she passed the hulking guards flanking the entry, a flash of adrenaline spiked her blood and made her steps falter.

  ***

  Corvin turned to look over his shoulder when he noticed the other novices staring at the doorway. Audrey wasn’t following him into the training hall. The mischievous smile that had brightened her face a moment before was replaced by a weary glare as she strategically scanned the room from floor to ceiling, probably looking for exits and threats. Her muscles tensed when she spotted several Hohlwen perched in the rafters below the domed-glass ceiling.

  He placed a hand on her shoulder, allowing a trickle of power to accompany the touch. “No one here will hurt you.”

  “They can’t hurt me anymore than they already have.” She clutched the pendant against her chest.

  “What if I told you that in this room, your binding is null? You can use your powers.”

  Her eyes lit up, and she held her hand out between them. Corvin watched in surprise as her arm disappeared. Invisibility was a rare, high-degree power. There was much more to Audrey than met the eye. He didn’t realize he was still gently rubbing her back until a the wave of Audrey’s relief washed through him. She let out a slow, controlled breath, and a gentle, genuine smile found its way to her lips.

  “Better?”

  She was still staring at her fingers, as if not sure whether to believe it. “You have no idea.”

  He let go of her. “Like I said, you have nothing to fear.”

  She flexed her hand into a fist. “It’s not me I’d be worried about.”

  He sighed. “Please…be good?”

  The playful light returned to her eyes as her smile turned feral. “No promises. I don’t play well with others.”

  He fought not to smile back but kept his voice neutral. “Neither do I.”

  He wasn’t intending to stay—he was anxious to see how his newest patient was faring—but all the novices gathered in a circle at the center of the chamber were beside their mentors. Despite his growing irritation with his assignment, he joined an opening in the circle. A quick empathic sweep of the room nearly overwhelmed him with a mixture of nerves, excitement, and curiosity. His jaw ticked. Around so many people, he couldn’t sort out which emotions came from whom, but it was clear from their tight expressions that some of the other mentors didn’t approve of his presence there at all.

  He gritted his teeth and reinforced his shields.

  Cian, the council member in charge of novice training, stepped into the center of the circle. He pulled back his hood, revealing rows of runic tattoos—sigils of power that amplified his already-legendary shielding abilities—lining his bald head. He stood there patiently until the room went quiet. It only took a few seconds.

  “Greetings. You are all here because you share a common heritage,” Cian began. “You most likely already know that you are not like other humans—mundanes, as we call them. Your magical talents mark you as one of the Zyne. You have lived many lives as your souls have traversed the Wheel of Stars, and fate has brought you here to learn how to harness that magic, which flows to us through the Universal Conduit. At the end of this training cycle, you will choose whether to be initiated into the greater mysteries and follow the Threefold Path, as is your destiny, or to reject your heritage and cosmic gifts, and be restored to the mundane world without magic.”

  After that ominous introduction, Cian then walked around the circle, questioning each novice about their magic and tasting their power in order to assign them to the proper training group. Wards, with their telekinesis, energy manipulation, and shielding abilities, were the most physical and usually the easiest to spot. Summoners most often had a strong affinity for nature and animals and the ability to manipulate the elements. Those with precognition, telepathy, or a highly developed second sight trained as Oracles.

  Since Corvin was a Summoner and Audrey was clearly a Ward, he thought his requirements had been met when the large circle broke, and he made to slip away. Cian caught him when he was nearly out the door. He hadn’t sensed the older witch’s approach at all.

  “Leaving us so soon?”

  “I—” An excuse dangled on Corvin’s tongue, but his former teacher’s serene smile stopped him. “You have further use for me?”

  Cian folded his hands into his robe, every bit the sage monk. “You can work with the Summoners while I check in on the others. I think you’ll find the little one is much like you—an empath, perhaps tenth degree or higher.”

  His old teacher knew him too well. Strong empaths were very rare. His curiosity was piqued. He bowed his head and walked toward the far corner of the room.

  The training room was broken into sections. The center served as the main meeting area, an expansion of the Ward sparring floor that took up most of the chamber. There were mats at one end and a stone floor in the middle etched with different circles that could be magically activated. As he crossed the central area, he spied Audrey standing with the other five Wards. Their instructor, Marjorie, held their rapt attention as she explained the magic that allowed her to suspend a metal ball and ring in the air.

  The Oracles had retreated to the attached library, which housed all of the basic training texts and the special tools they used for developing their second sight. At his end of the chamber, a stone table held a gas-powered flame and a water fountain, as well as several large pots filled with soil and plants. There were cages in the corner, but they were empty—it was only the first day.

  The Summoner novices were a somber group. They ranged in age from fifteen to about twenty. The little one Cian had referred to was easy to pick out. A boy no older than eleven sat against the wall, with his knees tucked to his chest. His energy was drawn in tightly, his shields already quite developed, as often happened with strong empaths. If they didn’t build a natural shield, their behavior became erratic and they were both agitated and exhausted in turns.

  Corvin sent a mental call to Smoke as he sank down the wall next to the boy and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “Have you ever met a raven?”

  The boy glanced sideways at him through the long, ginger bangs falling into his ey
es. “What?”

  The other novices shuffled closer, hesitantly sitting in a circle on the floor around them. A caw sounded from an open window in the corner.

  “The first thing to know about ravens is they are excellent judges of character.”

  The circle of students around them murmured in surprise as Smoke swooped low over their heads to land on Corvin’s leg.

  The young boy perched his chin on his knees and smiled.

  “Everyone, this is Smoke. Say hello.”

  A few of them snickered and the rest stared in silence, to which Smoke gave an annoyed ruffle of his feathers.

  The boy held out his hand and said, “Hello, Smoke. I’m Peter.”

  Smoke hopped to his hand and rubbed his beak on Peter’s sleeve.

  “He likes you.”

  “Can I pet him?”

  Corvin nodded. “You’ll regret it, though. He’ll never leave you alone after that.”

  Peter held Smoke while the others tentatively came closer to take turns petting him. Corvin took the opportunity to tap into the group’s energy and noted that there were several empaths amongst them. Peter’s power was by far the most advanced, and he projected quite strongly. As his energy shifted from anxious to curious, the rest of the group fell into a quiet, calm moment.

  Smoke gurgled in pleasure, making them all laugh. Corvin glanced across the room, seeking out Audrey, but his gaze snagged on Cian. He was standing still as a statue by the doorway, staring straight at Corvin, and showing no signs of returning anytime soon.

  As soon as that thought crossed his mind, Cian smiled.

  So it’s like that, is it?

  His smile widened, and he bowed his head.

  I thought you liked teaching.

  I do.

  Then why are you pawning it off on me?

  Who says I am not teaching now?

  Hard to teach them from over there.

  You are teaching them. I am teaching you. He bowed again, and slipped out the door.