Shattered Circle: The Witches Circle Book 3

by C. Larsen

  A terrible thought crosses my mind and I snap my head to the right to glare at Gray. *Did you know? Is this why you wanted me to come to Ashwood? To be your Chain Breaker?*

  A look of genuine shock crosses his face. *Of course not! I always thought that was just some dumb superstition.*

  The indignation his voice sounds convincing, but I've been tricked before. I won't be so easily fooled again.

  *Emerson, I'm telling you the truth. This is the first I'm hearing about this.*

  *So, if you did know about it, and Nikolay ordered you not to say anything to me, would you have disobeyed him?* Gray hesitates, his gaze shuttering closed, and a sour taste fills my mouth. *That's what I thought.*

  I turn away, pretending to be interested in the food in front of me. Hunger claws at my stomach, but the queasy feeling spreading over me prevents me from eating anything.

  Gray lays a heavy hand on my shoulder but I refuse to look at him. *Emerson, I would have told you. I promise. I had no idea what Nikolay was thinking.*

  My shoulder relaxes under his hand, my anger at him subsiding.

  "Yes, you are the Chain Breaker," Nikolay continues, unaware of the private conversation going on between Gray and me. "It has been foretold."

  "How can you possibly think that I'm the one in this prophecy?"

  Gray looks at Nikolay. "You have confirmation?” Nikolay nods. “From who?"

  "Margie, of course."

  "Margie?" Gray's eyebrows disappear into his hairline. "Margie said that Emerson's the Chain Breaker?"

  Nikolay’s cold, slate eyes fix on my face. "She did. Before Emerson was even born, Margie saw that Elizabeth would bear the Chain Breaker."

  “Which is why you tried to have her mated to Vasily?” I ask, realization dawning.

  Nikolay nods, unsurprised that I know about the arranged mating. “I wanted the strongest bloodlines possible. We have been waiting for your birth for a long time.”

  Gray sags against the back of his chair, chicken leg dropping from his fingers, forgotten. "You believe this too?" he asks, looking toward Madelyn.

  She appears to hesitate. "Margie believes so, but I'm not entirely convinced. Yes, she is from Morrigan's lineage, and because of her wolf blood, Odin's as well, but there is no other proof, other than Margie’s belief and as you all know, she can be a bit…eccentric. I think it’s too early to tell one way or another.”

  Ivan glares at me, one lip curled up, giving a glimpse of sharp teeth underneath. Then he turns and deliberately spits over his shoulder. He barks out a string of foreign Russian words at Nikolay, who snaps back, giving him a warning glare. Ivan grumbles under his breath, still staring malevolently in my direction.

  I try to hold his gaze, but fail. My eyes are forced down to my empty plate. Some part of me instinctively knows that he isn't a wolf I want to mess with. I refocus on Gray instead, surprised to see he's glaring back at Ivan.

  *Don't worry about him*, Gray says, lifting his hand to brush a stray lock of hair behind my ear. *It's not you. He hates all witches. He's still pissed that Nikolay formed a truce with the Ashwood Coven, and that happened almost two hundred years ago. Don't pay him any attention.*

  I take a few bites of the bourbon chicken, anxiety still churning in my gut. But with the first taste, my stomach gives a roar, reminding me just how hungry I am. I tear into the dripping meat, Ivan's antagonism forgotten. After almost ten minutes of dedicated eating, the void in my gut is finally full enough to allow me to focus on my surroundings. Madelyn, sitting to my left, converses quietly with the witch next to her.

  Directly to my right, Gray is watching me with an amused expression. "Hungry, luna?"

  My cheeks heat and I force myself to slow down.

  I notice Ivan hasn't touched his food. He’s just staring at me, lips curled in disgust.

  "Not hungry?" I ask innocently. My wolf may not want to mess with him, but I refuse to cower, even if I can’t meet his glare for very long.

  He throws back a shot of vodka, pounding the empty glass back down on the table. "I don’t break bread with the enemy."

  "Enemy?" I let my eyebrows lift in an unconvincing show of surprise. "I thought I was the Chain Breaker?"

  He looks at me with cold eyes and his upper lip curls even higher, showing off his yellowing teeth. "It is insult to have you sit here, any of you, Chain Breaker or no Chain Breaker." He pounds his fist on the table making the silverware rattle, his glare widening to include Madelyn on the other side of me and the rest of the coven below the dais.

  "Ivan," Nikolay warns. "They’re my guests."

  "Guests? How many of your pack was hurt last week, almost killed, by her coven?" he says, pointing at me.

  "And how many were healed by mine", Madelyn retorts, anger reverberating in her voice.

  "Does not matter. Pack should not have been endangered to begin with. You should have killed the witches outright and kidnapped the filthy half-breed."

  My mouth falls open, stunned. I knew I wasn't likely to be greeted with open arms by the whole pack, but he doesn't even attempt to hide his disgust. Who the hell is this guy to sit here and insult me? According to Gray, he isn’t even part of the pack, so what right does he have to complain about me being here?

  The table beneath my hands begins to shudder, knives and forks trembling on the table. I stare intently at my wine glass, at the ripples forming in the dark red liquid, and will myself to calm down.

  At least Madelyn stuck up for me against that jackass. That's something. Maybe she's not as afraid of me as I thought.

  "And you," Ivan continues, turning his cold gaze on Gray. "You let those pathetic witches capture you? You disgrace your bloodlines. Your family." He spits over his shoulder. “Not a surprise, after Derek. You will always be weak.”

  Gray’s face goes carefully blank. He throws a shot back, slamming the glass back on the table. A subtle nod to the left has a waiter scurrying to refill it.

  I can sense a growing anger, low and seething, coming from him. Controlling it with remarkable restraint he says, "You’re right, Ivan. I was almost killed by those witches. If it wasn't for Emerson, I would have been." He turns to me, pasting a lazy smile on his face that doesn't reach his eyes. "I'll have to think of some way to make it up to her." He drapes an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer.

  *Um, what are you doing?*

  *Come on, Em. You really want to piss him off? Get him back for that half-breed comment? Play along.*

  Ivan glares at Gray’s arm around me, his eyes narrowed in disgust. My wolf knows I can't challenge Ivan openly, no matter how much I might want to, but maybe there’s a way I can get even.

  I feel my lips pull into a slow smile and I allow my eyes to caress Gray’s face. "I'm sure you can think of something," I say.

  I bite my lip and take a small sip of my wine. Gray’s smile gets wider.

  "The vodka's delicious," he says, a glint in his eyes. "Have you tried it yet?" He holds his own small glass up to my lips, eyes daring me. Ivan’s face nearly turns purple, a thick vein throbbing at his temple.

  That's all the encouragement I need.

  My lips part, allowing the cool liquid to slide down my throat. After swallowing, I lick my lips, holding Gray's gaze. Ivan growls and turns away. Gray winks at me, though anger still clings to him like a second skin. He motions to the waiter to refill our vodka glasses, throwing his own back almost immediately. He's holding onto his control by a thread, but I really don't think alcohol is going to help him.

  The waiter fills Gray's glass again, but before he can pound it back, I pluck it from his hands and take a small sip. "Mmm, you're right. This is good."

  This elicits a tiny smile, genuine this time. "You do have your own glass. You don't need to steal mine."

  "But yours tastes better," I say with a flirtatious smile.

  His eyes warm, glinting mischievously. *You want to play, do you?*

  *Well, you were certainly right about it pissing off Ivan.
*

  "Now how about some food?" I say out loud, slicing a small piece of roast duck dripping with glaze sauce. I hold my fork up to his mouth.

  His smile grows, eyes losing a bit of their hardness.

  "Anything for you, luna." His lips part as he takes the piece of duck into his mouth, chewing slowly.

  "Good boy," I say. "Now some chicken." I pick up a piece with my fingers and hold it close to his lips. Heat enters his eyes, gaze never leaving mine. His tongue flicks out, grazing my fingertips, sending a tendril of warmth shooting through me.

  My blood pounds in my veins. A warm glow envelops me, making my limbs feel liquid, heat pooling deep in my abdomen. I vaguely wonder if I'm playing with fire here, but some feeling, some gut wrenching need pushes me closer, refusing to let me back away.

  I continue feeding Gray choice morsels from my plate. The fork lays abandoned on the table as I feed him directly from my hand. I extend another piece of duck to him, its sticky glaze on my fingers. My skin feels electrified, burning for the feel of his mouth, his tongue, his teeth.

  Just as I think this, his teeth catch my finger, sending little shock waves through me. Then, still biting gently, his lips close, tongue swirling against my skin. His teeth release me as he sucks my finger deeper into his mouth, warm and wet, sending a wave of heat all the way to my core.

  Golden eyes lock on mine. A faint growl rumbles from him, echoed in my own chest. My breathing becomes shallow, every nerve ending strung tight. The rasp of his tongue as he laps at my skin makes me think of all sorts of things I'd like for him to do to me.

  Finally, he slides my finger from his mouth, licking his lips as if craving more. A throbbing deep in my core demands more, but I resist. I lean back into my chair, straining valiantly to drag air into my starving lungs, but I still can't make myself break eye contact. His golden eyes have me ensnared.

  A loud crash makes me jump. Ivan, cursing low in Russian, pushes away from the table. Shards of broken glass glitter on the hardwood near his feet. He sweeps out of the dining hall, slamming the door behind him.

  *Well...* I say, trying to get my breathing under control. *I guess it worked.*

  Gray doesn't answer, his glowing eyes still locked on mine with unnerving intensity.

  I force myself to turn away, the moisture from Gray's mouth tingling on my skin. After a few moments, I sense Gray calming as well, but he doesn't remove his arm from around my shoulders.

  That was intense. I've never felt attraction that strong, need that powerful. I've been the recipient of Caiden's occasional, accidental, lust spells, but this was different. Gray didn't cast a spell over me so much as called to something deep inside me, some primitive instinct, some craving of mine that only he can sate.

  I mentally shake myself. Gray has flirted from the moment he showed up in Haven Hollow, but I never gave it much thought. I figured it was just the way he is. Anyone looking at him can tell he's used to getting whatever girl he wants. He’s probably already been with every girl in this room. I glance out at the tables below, my eyes landing on Isabel.

  But not me, I think, giving a firm nod. I won't be another notch on his bedpost, regardless of how many smoldering looks and cocky grins he throws my way. I've had enough relationship drama to last me a lifetime. First Sebastian, then Caiden...

  Just the thought of Caiden sends ripples of pain radiating through my chest. I know I should move on—he's made it pretty clear how he feels about me. And even if was telling the truth that one drunken night when he said he loved me, he will never forgive me for Lydia. But though a part of me hates him for it, for the things he's said and the way he’s treated me, the other half is devastated at his loss.

  You’d think I'd have learned my lesson by now. Letting people close is just asking to get hurt.

  As Gray observes the emotions playing over my face, the heat in his eyes cools. "Still hung up on him, huh?"

  I look away, cheeks reddening.

  "That's okay, luna. You need time. I get it. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere," he says with a wink.

  Grabbing the shot glass in front of me, I down the rest of the vodka, silently cursing myself. The liquid burns on the way down, helping to clear my head. When I next look at Gray, he's watching me with a mixture of amusement and sly playfulness.

  "What?"

  "Nothing."

  I raise an eyebrow at him and he grins. "Not going to offer me anything else to eat? Because I'm suddenly ravenous."

  I laugh, relieved that he’s not taking this incident too seriously. I may be attracted to him, but I would never seriously consider a relationship with him. A relationship needs to be about more than just lust, as I learned with Sebastian.

  "I think you're capable of feeding yourself now."

  Gray laughs good-naturedly, then digs into his food.

  As the night wears on, the vodka flows freely through the pack, especially among the older weres'. It’s late into the night before everyone eats their fill.

  When the plates are finally cleared away, Madelyn gives me a wary look. *Good luck,* she says, before standing and motioning to the rest of the witches. They all get to their feet and exit the hall.

  After the last of the coven leaves, Nikolay stands up for another announcement. Everyone falls silent, excitement running through the pack.

  He says only three words: "Time to hunt."

  Chapter 15

  Excited shouts and whoops fill the air, the overly formal dinner party morphing into pandemonium as people pound the tabletops and stomp their feet, hooting and hollering. The last of the vodka disappears and everyone leaves the dining room like a bunch of frat boys on spring break.

  Beside me, Gray throws back one last drink and holds his hand out to me, grinning. "Come on, volchonok."

  He leads me out a side door I hadn't noticed before and we run down the hallway hand in hand, his excitement contagious despite my nervousness.

  "Where are we going?" I ask as he leads me down a series of corridors and onto a stone terrace outside. "Gray, what's going on?" I pull him to a stop, panting to catch my breath. His whole face is lit up.

  "We're going on a hunt."

  His words paralyze me, the frigid air cutting me straight to the bone. "A hunt? What kind of hunt?"

  "The werewolf kind." His eyes shine with anticipation. "Normally we have them on Saturdays, but this week Nikolay wanted to wait until tonight to welcome you to the pack."

  "You mean we—and they—we're all going to shift into—and go out there to hunt—" I babble, pointing out to the dark woods lining this side of the estate. "I can't." I pull my shaking hand away from him. "I can't do that Gray. I can't become that thing again—"

  "That wolf is who you are," he says in a sharp voice. "It's a part of you, whether you like it or not." Then a slow smile pulls at his lips. "And trust me, you will like it."

  "But I can't," I insist. I wrap my arms around my trembling body. "You know what happened last time. You were there. I might go crazy again. I could hurt someone."

  "I told you, you’re not feral." When I remain unconvinced, he shifts, hunching down to look me in the eyes. "How did you feel last time? Not when you first shifted in your house, terrified and alone. How did you feel after I showed up? When we ran together, out in the woods. Playing, wrestling, running free. How did that make you feel?"

  "I‒I don't know," I hesitate.

  "Were you afraid? Did you feel out of control?"

  "No... Not after you showed up."

  "Did you have fun?"

  I purse my lips. "Maybe a little. But what if it’s different this time?"

  "It won't be. I'll be by your side the entire time."

  I chew my bottom lip, debating.

  “Come on, little coward. There’s only one way to see if you can handle it.”

  He has a point. And if anything goes wrong, the whole pack will be there to take care of it. Teeth clenched to hide my shivering, I give him a small nod. He grins and takes my hand
again, pulling me down the stone steps to the right. As my heels sink into the grass, I freeze again.

  "What now?" Gray asks in mock exaggeration.

  "Where are we going to change?" I look down at my expensive dress, remembering how my clothes tore apart during my first change. If I don't want the same fate for this dress I'd have to remove it first, and even though I've never been the shy type, stripping down in front of an entire pack of strangers isn't appealing.

  My question makes Gray grin even wider. "With everyone else. I told you luna, there's no place for modesty in a wolf pack."

  We reach the edge of the woods, raucous laughter rings out in every direction. People everywhere are busy stripping down with no regard for the other twenty-something people around. Several people already kneel on the cold ground. Groans of pain blend with laughter and shouts. I look at Gray, panic in my eyes.

  "This way, Em. I'll find you some cover to change."

  Gray leads me deeper into the trees, stopping on the other side of a thick cluster of bushes twenty feet in. Then he stands there, waiting for me to change.

  "Um, mind turning around?"

  He grins. "It's not like I haven't seen you in the buff before."

  I narrow my eyes and cross my arms, making him laugh. "Fine, fine. I'll turn around."

  After waiting a moment to make sure he's not looking, I slip off my shoes, then I remember something. "Gray?"

  "Yes?" he calls, his back still to me.

  "I need you to unzip me."

  Now he does turn, a sexy smirk on his face. "My pleasure."

  I hear the soft hiss of the zipper, then feel a cool breeze along my spine as the dress parts open. Holding the dress to my chest, I motion for Gray to turn around again. Once he’s safely facing the other direction, I shimmy out of the dress. My flesh prickles with goose bumps in the cold November air. As I unhook my bra and slide off my panties I peek over my shoulder. Gray's broad back is still facing me. Looks like he decided to be a gentleman.