by C. Larsen
The Witches Circle Series:
Book 3
Shattered Circle
by C. Larsen
Copyright © 2017 by C. Larsen
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by Kat Squibb Photography
Cover Image: avphotocomua © 123RF.com
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any way without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations for the purpose of reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
For all the latest news and updates, visit C. Larsen at:
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More Books by this Author
The Witches Circle
Silent Circle: Book 1
Deceitful Circle: Book 2
Gray’s Dilemma: A Witches Circle Novella
Shattered Circle: Book 3
Sacrificial Circle – The fourth and final book in this series will be coming out in 2019!
Simple Witchcraft
Wicca: A Beginner’s Guide to Witchcraft, Spells, Rituals, and Magick
Simple Candle Magick: Easy, Powerful Candle Spells For Beginners to Wicca and Witchcraft
Chapter 1
“Were-loving traitor.” The air whooshes out of me, a hard shoulder colliding into mine. Landon continues down the hallway sneering over his shoulder at me, blue eyes narrowed in hate.
I take a moment to keep my balance, hands balling into fists. God I’d love to hit him. Instead, I take a deep breath, force my fists to unclench, and keep walking.
From up ahead, Sarah’s voice reaches my ears. "Can you believe Emerson wasn't even at the funeral?"
"I know. So disrespectful," Courtney answers, her voice pitched low with disgust, as if either of those bitches ever talked to Lydia when she was alive. "Do you think it's really true, what Landon’s saying? Do you think Emerson really killed her?" Courtney asks, her voice dropping to a whisper but still audible to my ears.
"Psycho Emerson? You never know... I heard that it was a jealous cat-fight, something to do with Caiden-" Sarah stops mid-sentence when she glances over her shoulder and sees me not three feet behind. I expect them to break out in giggles at seeing me close enough to overhear, but instead they both visibly pale, fear widening their eyes. They scurry away into the cafeteria, which makes it worse, somehow. As if they both truly believe the rumors they were so animatedly sharing. As if they're afraid I'm going to kill them next.
I take a detour to the girls’ bathroom. Gripping the edges of the white porcelain sink, I try to get my breathing under control. Despite the anger still coursing through me, my stomach clenches into sick knots.
Come on, Em. You've done this a thousand times, I tell myself, staring up into the mirror. Gossip isn’t anything new; you’d think I’d be used to it by now.
I know Landon blames me for her death as much as the rest of them, but I can’t believe he’s actually going around telling people I killed her.
I’ve been dealing with the stares and nasty comments all day, but the thought of walking into the lunch room right now makes me feel like hyperventilating. This will be the first time I'll see anyone from the coven since everything happened. I wonder how Caiden's doing... I can't imagine how hard this is on him.
I continue staring into the mirror, waiting for my nerves to settle. After several minutes, I accept that it’s not going to happen. Oh well. I have to face them sooner or later. I’m eighteen. In my senior year. Less than a year to go and I can leave this place and these people forever. Surely I can handle a few more months. I square my shoulders, lift my chin and march into the cafeteria.
I'm one of the last people to arrive. I head straight for the lunch line, avoiding looking over at Caiden's table. I don't know what to expect from him or the others. The only contact I’ve had with any of them was a short phone call from Arianna, telling me that it would probably be best if I didn’t go to the funeral. Though she didn’t sound angry or accusatory, it still felt like a sucker punch to the gut.
As I join the end of the very long line, I hear shouts coming from the front. Before I realize it, I’m sprinting toward the familiar voices.
I arrive just in time to see Josh throw a right hook at Ethan's face. Ethan staggers back a step, but surprisingly stays upright. Lowering his head, he charges at Josh, his shoulder slamming into Josh's midsection. Josh grunts, but quickly recovers. Hooking his arms around Ethan's neck, he gets him in a choke hold, his eyes flashing wolf-gold.
Ethan struggles to break his hold, blond hair flying about, his face taking on a concerning shade of purple. The rest of the room looks on in shock, but no one attempts to intervene. To say that this display is uncharacteristic of Ethan is an understatement. Ethan never makes a scene. The fact that he's brawling in the middle of the lunch room at school screams volumes about the depth of his grief over his cousin's death. I have no idea what was said between them to cause this sort of reaction, but maybe the fact that Josh was one of the werewolves there that night was enough.
Before either of them are seriously hurt, I grab Josh's arm, trying to break his hold. Unsurprisingly, I can't get him to budge. I'd have better luck trying to lift a Mack truck. Ethan's struggles are getting weaker, and I'm afraid he might be on the verge of passing out. Sweat glistens on Josh’s shaved head, his face screwed up in rage.
Where are all the teachers? Why isn't anyone else trying to stop this?
I spot Caiden’s mop of dark brown hair across the room. The crowd forms a circle around us, shouting, and egging Josh and Ethan on. Caiden begins pushing people out of his path, trying to make it over to me, but he’s still too far away to help.
Calling up a whisper of power, I channel it into my hands and grip Josh's bulging forearm. I feel his skin heat up under my palms, but he still doesn't release his grip on Ethan. I ramp it up. A faint whiff of singed hair rises into the air and Josh finally jerks away, releasing him.
Air wheezes into Ethan’s lungs as he gasps for breath, but in less time than I'd expect he recovers and charges at Josh again.
For the love of god... Doesn't he know when to quit? Before he can make contact, I step between them and use my power to push him back; not enough to hurt him or to send him flying through the air, but enough to keep him at bay.
Ethan’s face turns an even a brighter shade of red when he realizes what I'm doing. Josh growls a string of curses, mostly directed at me, and hisses that I need to mind my own business, but I tune him out. It's taking all my concentration just to keep Ethan back without hurting him. I'm half-afraid Josh will charge through me to get to Ethan, but then I hear Sebastian behind me, trying to calm him, and I can only hope he'll keep him back.
At this moment, Caiden reaches us and grabs hold of Ethan from behind.
"Come on," Caiden says, keeping his voice low so the people around us won't overhear. "This isn't the time. You're making a scene."
Sense returns to Ethan's eyes, but they still glitter dangerously when they lock on mine. His gaze flickers down to my hands still resting on his chest, holding him back.
"Get off me!" He jerks away from me, his face clouded with disgust. "Don't touch me.”
Caiden's mouth thins. "She's just trying to help."
"Help? This is all her fault." People surge in closer, eager for more drama. Ethan’s enraged gaze bores into me, oblivious, or unconcerned, about the growing crowd. "Everyone knows how much you hated her."
"That's enough, Ethan," Caiden growls.
His anger is so sharp I step back in shock. "That's not true
." I keep my voice low and my emotions locked down tight. "Of course I didn't hate her. How can you say that?"
"You can drop the act," Ethan says, his face stiff, eyes hard and unforgiving. "I saw the way you looked at her. You were jealous. You knew Lydia liked Caiden and you were worried she'd steal him away from you."
"That’s insane. Ethan-"
"Admit it! You resented Lydia and Caiden's history. You were afraid they'd get back together, worried that you wouldn't be able to twist him around your little finger anymore."
"Wait, what?” Caiden and Lydia used to date? A flash of jealousy rips through me, which I quickly suppress.
Triumph gleams in Ethan's eyes. "Exactly." He smiles bitterly. "So don't stand here and pretend to be sorry she died. You don't have the right to mourn her."
With one last cold look, he turns his back on me and stalks across the lunchroom.
There's a collective ‘oooh’ from the onlookers. Heat rushes to my face.
Caiden sighs as he watches Ethan’s retreating figure. “Sorry about him, Em. He just needs some time. He'll come around."
I nod numbly, not believing it for a second. Caiden walks off to join Ethan at their table. I dimly notice Arianna rush into the lunchroom, backpack hanging off one shoulder as if she hadn't had time to drop it off at her locker yet. She must have come in late today. After speaking to Ethan for a minute, she glances up at me, pain and a hint of anger in her eyes.
My chest feels hollow, empty. I knew that Ethan blamed me for Lydia, blamed me for bringing the Silver Ridge Pack to town, but I had no idea he thought so low of me. Does he truly believe those awful accusations? That I'm happy Lydia died? How could any of them think that? I never wanted anything bad to happen to her.
Lydia and I were never close, but we were making progress. We hung out a few times, me, Lydia and Arianna. Near the end, I really thought we were starting to become friends.
But none of that matters to Ethan. All he knows is his cousin is dead and it's my fault. As much as I want to hate Ethan for his cruel words, I can't. I understand exactly what he's going through. I know what it's like to lose someone you love, to be drowning in grief, struggling to keep your head afloat while your heart threatens to burst from your chest and strangle you. You need someone to blame, someone to direct all that hate and rage toward. Pain and grief, those awful, clawing, gut wrenching emotions need an outlet of some kind, need to be directed toward somebody or something, otherwise you'll tear yourself up trying to keep in all in.
A large hand lands on my shoulder, making me jump. "Come on, Em. Forget about him." Gray’s deep, rumbly voice brings me back to myself. I’m not sure how long I’ve been standing here, staring blankly across the room.
I shake my head to snap myself out of it. People are still staring, whispering behind their hands. I allow Gray to lead me away to an empty table in the back. At least he doesn't try to get me to sit with Josh and Kayla at his usual table. I can't deal with them right now. Josh has always hated me for reasons only he knows and the last time Kayla and I were within speaking distance it ended in punches being thrown. Mainly my fist to her face.
Across the room, Caiden watches us with narrowed eyes. He despises werewolves as much as the rest of the witches do, if not more so. I'm sure the fact that I'm sitting here with the son of the Silver Ridge Pack Alpha isn't helping my cause with any of them, but it beats sitting alone. Besides, it's not as if Gray killed Lydia. But, until the packs admit which of them did, the coven holds them all responsible.
After a few moments, Olivia and Sebastian both carry their trays over to join us.
"Hey Em," Sebastian calls, sitting next to me. He looks at me expectantly, his blond hair gelled into messy spikes, face glowing with hope. He hasn't looked at me like that since before we broke up. His familiar face sends a pang through me, but it's less painful than I thought it'd be. "You could've sat at our table, ya' know."
I glance up at Josh. His scowl has become even more pronounced. He says something to Chris next to him and they both glare at me. And deal with his antagonism? No, thank you.
"How are you doing?" Olivia asks, sitting across from me. "Are they still giving you a hard time?" She nods toward Caiden's table, her jade, cat-like eyes glinting.
"Can't blame them." I shrug. "Lydia died and I've been branded a traitor."
"Why? Because you didn't let Caroline kill you?" Gray scoffs. “If it wasn't for the pack, you’d be dead. Me too, for that matter. But I guess they've forgotten that part." His voice takes on a sardonic tone, but his silver eyes glint with anger.
I spy Landon's blond head in the crowded lunchroom, a surge of pure hate rippling through me. "Oh, believe me, I remember. But some of them refuse to believe that Caroline would've hurt me. And Landon has the coven convinced that he only kidnapped me on Caroline's orders, to protect me from your pack."
"And they buy that?" His eyes flash gold, his sarcastic façade slipping. Memories from that night flash through my mind, the fear and rage still too near the surface. My fists clench, teeth locking tight in a silent snarl while I glare at Landon. Even after Caroline admitted to murdering my mom and fled, Landon tried to snap Gray's neck. I stopped him, thank God, but it was a close call.
"Yeah, they do."
"Assholes," Olivia mutters, flipping her copper hair over her shoulder. "They're just going to turn their backs on you like this?”
I give Olivia a pointed look. Ironic, considering a couple of weeks ago it was she who turned her back on me when I found out I was a witch.
Correctly reading my look, she flushes slightly. "What? I said I was sorry for all that." She waves her hand in the air. "Water under the bridge. What these new friends of yours are doing is much worse. At least I never tried to kill you."
I huff a laugh. "They aren't trying to kill me, they just don't want me around right now. I wasn't even allowed to go to the funeral yesterday. Mirowski said tensions are still too high. He thinks it’s best if I stay away from the coven for now…”
“They kicked you out?!” Olivia looks beyond pissed.
“Only temporarily, or so they say.”
"Screw 'em; you don't need them." She glares again in their direction.
I look down at the table, my emotions a jumbled mess. When my powers first awakened, I fought the idea of joining the coven, insisted on staying solitary. But after they came to my rescue during an incident with a rival coven, the Carrion Crows, I hesitantly decided to give them a chance. I admit I was intrigued with the thought of belonging to a group of people like me, people who would support me and be there for me. But it turns out my initial instincts were right. That sort of thing doesn't exist. The moment things got tough, they turned their backs on me. I was stupid for expecting anything more from them.
I know most of the coven blames me, and I can't say they're wrong. The werewolves that killed Lydia found out about the coven because of me. Because I wouldn't let my mom's supposed suicide rest. Because I insisted on searching for answers. In my quest for the truth, I thoughtlessly revealed our presence to the Silver Ridge Pack, and they followed me back to Haven Hollow.
If I had only listened to Caiden when he warned me against going to Ashwood Creek, then the pack would have never followed me back to town and Lydia would still be alive. Of course, that also means Caroline would have been able to force me into a blood blond and steal my powers, possibly killing me in the process, so I don’t regret that the Silver Ridge and Haven Pack showed up to help me. But what does that say about me? That part of me is thankful that they came to my rescue even though Lydia died? Am I selfish for being grateful to the werewolves for saving my life, even though one of them killed my friend and coven mate in the process?
And what am I supposed to do now that I’ve been kicked out of the coven? Besides offering protection against rival covens, they were also helping me to get control over my abilities.
I shrug, unwilling to voice all this. Instead, I say, “At least I’ll have more free tim
e without all the training.”
"Training?" Sebastian asks.
"Yeah, they were helping me to control my abilities. That's why I've been spending so much time with Caiden—he's been my mentor of sorts." I look down at the table again. I don’t want to think about Caiden right now.
Sebastian watches me with sad eyes. Maybe he's remembering all the fights we’ve had over him, all the times he accused me of cheating on him with Caiden. Of course, I couldn't tell Sebastian the real reason I was spending so much time with Caiden: that I couldn’t let anyone outside the coven know I was a witch. If I had, would we still be together? I can tell by his expression that he's thinking the same thing.
"Don't worry about that," Gray says. "Madelyn's coven can help you with your powers. It's probably better, her training you and all, since you're both from the same bloodline.”
"That won’t work. Her coven’s in Vermont."
"Yeah, so is my pack. We were hoping you'd move up there to stay with her for a bit. You're not exactly safe here right now—not unless James and Mirowski can work out a truce," he says, glancing over at Ethan and the others.
Gray seems to think a truce can be formed with my coven and the local pack, but after seeing Ethan and Josh's very public brawl, I have my doubts. The coven is devastated about Lydia and thirsting for revenge. Mirowski, our new High Priest now that Caroline has disappeared, has managed to quiet them for now, but it's only a matter of time before tensions snap.
Caroline predicted that there would be war, but I'm praying that James, the local pack’s Alpha, can negotiate a truce before it comes to that. Anxiety pulses through me at the thought of my were’ friends and my witch friends trying to kill each other.
"We can protect her," Sebastian says, glaring across me at Gray. "You can't expect her to move all the way out to Vermont."