Chosen Witch

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Chosen Witch Page 7

by Rae Hendricks


  “I might be, but I don't see how that concerns you,” Annalise shot back, unsure what Tamara’s problem would be this time. How Isaiah lived with this day in and day out, Annalise did not understand. She hoped for his sake, Tamara was different behind closed doors.

  “Ladies, please don't do this.” Tamara looked to her mate like there was a huge bug on his face. Annalise took it that she didn't like being scolded or told she was doing something wrong. Annalise relaxed and tried to stay out of it, but Tamara didn't want to let her.

  “Isaiah, she was completely inappropriate. She lectured your pack members and the hybrids, who we could really use on our side. If they listen to her, then they will probably all end up over with the witches. Why are you letting a witch have an outburst and usurp your authority like that?”

  Isaiah looked down at Tamara and shook his head before walking away. It was probably a smart move. Annalise didn't feel the same need to look like the bigger person right at that moment, though. If anyone had humiliated Isaiah at all, it was Tamara just now.

  “You know, I don’t get you,” Annalise said, looking Tamara up and down like she might be the scum of the Earth. Really, she wasn’t, but Annalise was certainly regretting choosing her for Isaiah. He might have been better off with a total stranger. “You want so badly to be the mate and to win Isaiah's attentions and affections, but when he needs you, you always just stand in the damn background. That is not the kind of impression I got from you when I met you. Sure, you were rude about my being a witch, but at least you had some balls to say and do what you felt.”

  Tamara’s mouth opened in appall. “What you did here, regardless of anything between us, was inappropriate.”

  “Standing up for someone I care about is inappropriate? The way I see it, the only reason you’re afraid of me is because I am filling a role which you refuse to. You could have easily come to his defense, instead, but you didn’t.” Annalise was enraged by this point, throwing her hands in the air. A few of the hybrids had lingered back to watch this cat fight of sorts. She was increasingly aware of the inappropriate audience considering she might be ruling over some of them pretty soon.

  “It’s just not how things are done in the pack, Annalise. Throwing out tradition gets you nowhere here. You get to go back to your coven and act however you want because women can rule there. That’s not how it is here.” Tamara’s words were just infuriating.

  “Screw what’s improper,” Annalise burst out with. “I defend the people I care about, period.” Annalise was ready to walk away, but she felt it coming up out of her without her permission. She was going to say it. “By the way, I was the one that told Isaiah to choose you over the other women in the pack. I thought you might be good for him, be there for him. I stayed up with him all night, debating over which women would be good for him and the pack. You’re really doing a great job of making me regret that.”

  Annalise walked away, knowing it would sting. With all the trouble they were having, Tamara knowing that it was Annalise’s influence that chose her and not Isaiah himself would hit her where it hurt. Annalise knew it had been wrong to aim there. No one had ever made her this angry before, and hurtful words were better than harmful spells.

  Tamara could feel a chill in the air that had nothing to do with the actual temperature. Annalise had always seemed to be in the way, but she had never directly attacked Tamara like that before. Tamara was also wondering if what Annalise had said was true. In retrospect, it very well could be. Isaiah went to Annalise every time he needed help. Why would choosing a mate be any different? It had been cruel to reveal that though, letting Tamara know she was not Isaiah's sole or first choice. It had not been something easy that just came to him. Annalise had thought Tamara deserved the chance to be the alpha's mate. If Tamara truly dug deep, maybe she was failing in that role.

  There was something about Annalise that Tamara admired, despite the fact she also extremely disliked her and the role she played in Isaiah's life. She didn't care what people thought, and she did always jump in to defend. Tamara could learn something from that when it came to Isaiah. Before they were mates, and before he was alpha, she didn't care what came out of her mouth as long as it was true, and she felt it. She needed to get back to that person the best she could. That was the person Isaiah had liked. It could be the person Isaiah loved.

  Tamara also knew she needed to find a way to be more involved with the pack and with Isaiah. She was tired of being in the background. Tamara turned around, her black combat boots sliding in the snow as she marched back to the cabin, which she assumed is where Isaiah would be. She needed to express this to him. It could finally turn things around between them.

  When Tamara got to the cabin, she called for him but found no one there. It was just her and Lacy. Tamara plopped down on the couch, wondering where he could have gone. That conversation would have to wait.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tamara caught herself dozing off as she was startled by the opening of the door. She wasn’t quite sure how long she had been waiting for Isaiah to come home. She was a little surprised to see Roman come in the door first, trailed by Isaiah and Hector who looked uncomfortable. Isaiah had mentioned something to her about Hector needing to talk to him, about what he didn’t know. Isaiah hadn’t wanted to deal with it for a few days while everything with the hybrids was still up in the air. Tamara was beginning to wonder if it was something serious.

  She didn’t get a chance to say anything because Hector went straight to his bedroom. Roman and Isaiah were talking as if she weren’t there. Yet again, she was last on the priority list. Of course, Roman was grieving, but so was she.

  Tamara decided to interrupt, standing up and walking over to the two men, who were digging in the kitchen for some grub. “Isaiah, can I talk to you, please?” Tamara asked, trying not to show too much anger in front of Roman. Something told her that if she did, it wouldn’t end well.

  “Sure,” Isaiah responded. “I guess I should talk with you too. Roman, will you be alright for a little while?” Tamara wasn’t sure why Isaiah was asking a grown man if he would be alright without him in the room. She supposed there was a chance Roman was taking everything with Orson pretty hard. She should have noticed when he was there before, instead of ignoring him. Something set her off about him being there now.

  “I’m fine, brother.” Roman looked annoyed at the question. Tamara tried not to laugh as she went to the bedroom with Isaiah.

  “Before you say anything,” Isaiah began, his hands out to stop Tamara, “I need to let you know that Roman may be staying with us for a bit. He is not handling anything well, despite outward appearances. I think being in that house is not helping matters.”

  Tamara shook her head. She wanted to pop off a comment about Annalise being there for him. She knew that wasn’t going to get her any points with him. “It is what it is. I want to try and be here for both of you. I need to know that I will be allowed to be included from now on.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Isaiah questioned, obviously taken aback.

  “What I mean is that I might have learned something from that witch I don’t like. I want to be a strong and equal partner. I want to be your friend and be here for you. I want to be strong with you. I can’t do any of those things if you keep allowing me to be shoved in the background. I need to know you want me to truly be your mate and be a part of all that's going on. It’s not working because I am not being myself. I am tiptoeing around you and around the rules and the traditions. If you get to break them, then I should too.”

  Isaiah cocked his head at her a bit like a curious dog hearing a new noise. “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Tamara asked, baffled by his short and simple response.

  “Yeah.”

  The next morning was a strange one at the cabin. Now, Tamara was sharing Isaiah’s attention with his brother instead of the leader of the witch coven. The tension seemed to be less between Isaiah and herself and more between Roman and hers
elf. She found herself tiptoeing around him and avoiding him again. She couldn’t put a finger on what the odd feeling was she was having about being around him. It might have been the comment he made about Isaiah and Annalise. It could be she was afraid of unleashing the severity of her grief if she heard about his. Either way, it made things awkward, as they went about breakfast, making small talk in between the stone-cold silences.

  Roman looked up at Tamara as she stared down at her plate. Her dark red hair was covering most of her face as she pushed around her food. She wasn’t eating much. She was certainly trying to use what was on her plate to distract her from the fact he was there. He thought back to what he had said at the execution and wondered if he owed her an apology. He didn't want to say anything in front of Isaiah, though.

  Isaiah came strutting into the room. His shirt was off, and he wore a pair of shorts, which let Roman in on the fact that he would be going for a run. Even in the dead of winter, the man didn’t care about what the cold would do. He just liked to run until he didn't feel anything. Usually, Roman found this idea complete insanity, but with the emotional war still raging in inside of himself, he was beginning to realize the brilliance in it. He would go with him. There, however, could also be an advantage to being alone in the house with Tamara…well…with Tamara and Lacy. Lacy never got in the way, so she was the perfect guard.

  “Going running?” Tamara asked him idly, almost with curiosity. It was an odd thing to see from two people who should have been mates. By all rights, Tamara should be carrying the next Young heir by now. For some reason, those two couldn’t get it right. They hardly seemed to be friends anymore.

  “Yeah,” Isaiah answered, heading for the door with a half-eaten apple in his hand. He turned around like an afterthought. “Did you want to go with me?” Was his older brother really so clueless when it came to women, or was it just their childhood friend that did this to him?

  “No, that’s okay,” Tamara said, looking back down at her food. So, maybe the weirdness wasn’t just with Roman. Isaiah left without another word, or even a lingering look. Roman could feel the chill in the air that had nothing to do with the weather.

  “Are you alright?” Roman asked as the two of them were left alone in the room. He could tell that she still wasn't comfortable, but she stopped pushing her food around and set her plate to the side with a sigh. It was at least a sign that she might be willing to talk. Roman needed to get out of his head, and Tamara was the best person he could think of to help him do that. But before they could communicate like friends again, he needed to clear the air for both of them. He had said some things he knew were out of line to her. He also knew he had not been there for her the way he should have. How was he to deny her the same grief he was having over Orson?

  “Is it weird to say that I do not even know how to answer that question?” Tamara answered, running her hands over her thighs, like someone who was wiping sweat or grease off their skin.

  “No, not at all.” Roman moved closer to her, trying to close all gaps between them, both physical and emotional. He was sick of pack politics coming between them. He placed his hand on her knee, and she made a move to scoot away but then didn’t. “You’re still my best friend,” Roman said in reassurance. He wanted so desperately for things to go back the way they were. The gaping hole in his heart let him know they never would. Somebody would still be dead.

  “I keep forgetting,” Tamara said, looking up at him as she pushed her dark red hair behind her ear. It was getting long, and Roman couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on the shine of it as it swung behind her. She laughed nervously, and Roman smiled.

  It was nice to break the ice like that. She was glad for the time alone with him, even if it did make it awkward yet again. Someone was living with her and her new mate; her rather unsuccessful one. She hoped he didn't bring that up, though. “I am sorry, I just don’t know how to handle all of this. I don't feel like I have the right to feel what the two of you are feeling. I try to stay out of everything,” Tamara admitted. She trained her eyes downward, but instead of the ground, they landed on Roman’s hand that was on her leg. She didn’t know why his touch was suddenly tripping her up, but it was.

  “Of course, you have a right, Tamara. You’re family.” Roman’s response should have been a comfort, but as Tamara finally let her eyes meet his, something felt off. Maybe it was just her that was off. Her mind took her back to when she went to see Orson, and she realized that it was eating away at her. This secret she was keeping was making her treat the brothers, who were still alive, like pariahs.

  “I am confused,” Tamara admitted to him, relaxing into his touch and the feel of him soothing her like he always did. This was the role Roman had always played. Why should it be so different just because she was entangled even further with the Young brothers? He was basically her brother now, anyway. “I don’t know how to feel about Orson. Though no one is saying it, it feels to me like it is wrong to grieve over him. Why, because he did something so horrible that affected so many. Yet, here I am, grieving, as if he were murdered instead of executed. I felt so angry at everyone before the execution, even you and your brother. I thought for sure there had to be something else that could be done. I felt like, this is Orson. I grew up with him. He is your brother. I kissed him. I even might have loved him.”

  Tamara was rambling, but this was the first time she was ready to say it out loud. If she slowed down, she may not have gotten it out. “I went to see him, Roman, before he was executed.”

  Tamara waited for the shoe to drop as she looked at Roman's face. His hand did move away for a moment before returning to its spot. “Isaiah doesn’t know this, does he?” Roman asked, though it was pointless. He already knew the answer.

  “Nobody knows. I even lost Lacy on the way,” Tamara revealed, pushing his hand away to lean her head into her hands. Now that she said it out loud, she felt like an idiot. “I know now, it was wrong, but I was so angry about being kicked out of that conversation. I had to know what was said. I didn't think he was the mastermind. I thought the two of you were just hiding everything from me. So, I went. It was awful, Roman.” Tamara felt tears begin to come out, and she knew this was it. This was the moment she began to allow herself to grieve over the boy she grew up with and thought she felt something for. The man that betrayed them all.

  “I understand,” Roman whispered softly as he reached his arm around her, pulling her to him and stroking her growing hair. It felt so wild in his hands. She had not been paying any attention to herself with all of this going on. “I know what you were feeling. It was so hard for me to believe he would do that.”

  The rest was silence. That was all they needed to know. At that moment, they were there for each other. Roman could not count how long they held each other, but the moment they heard the sound of Hector and Isaiah coming up to the cabin, they let go. He didn't know if she would be ready to confess all of that to Isaiah yet. He wasn’t about to make her. He had some confessions he was holding back from himself. In fact, he had held them back somewhere inside along with all of the other things he filed away to keep the peace. How long would it be until something came spilling out?

  When Isaiah came in the door, though, Roman could tell that Tamara was ready. She planned on telling him about her secret meeting with Orson. “Can Isaiah and I have a couple of hours alone?” she asked in such a sweet and unsure tone. I hardly recognized her. Was this Tamara as a mate? Or was she just scared of letting me walk out the door as the only other person to know and accept her secret?

  Roman lumbered back to his house, the one that was haunted by a young and grumbling witch and the ghosts of the Young brothers. All had once lived as three bachelors, not knowing one of them was out to get everyone they cared about.

  He was greeted immediately by a pacing Annalise. He supposed he was going to be the shoulder to cry on for more than one woman that day, but he never suspected what was going to come out of her mouth.

  �
��I have to tell you something, Roman. I just can’t hold it in anymore, and telling Isaiah didn't seem appropriate just yet,” Annalise attacked him with what seemed like panic.

  Roman grunted and gestured to her. “Spit it out.” Annalise looked at him strangely before continuing. She couldn’t wait. This wasn't the time to be completely halted by his bad mood. That was why they made perfect roommates.

  “I met your mother.” Roman stared at her like she was insane. His mother was dead and had been for years.

  CHAPTER TEN

  “Is this some kind of witchy thing?” Roman asked, hoping it was a joke. He didn't know if he could take another bomb dropped on him today. His brain felt fried from the flood of Tamara’s emotions. Annalise looked entirely serious, though.

  “No, Roman, it’s not some witchy thing. I can’t believe you would even say that! What I mean is, I met her a long time ago, when I was a child. I just didn't know or realize it was her until all of this had happened with Orson. Just sit down,” she ordered.

  Roman wasn't about to contradict her at all. Anything about his mother he didn't know, he wanted to. Her death was much more traumatic for the three brothers than anything else that had happened, whether that made sense or not. Life before her death was beautiful and simple. She was the perfect buffer between the brothers and their father. Once she was gone, the man lost any sense of caring he had before. Roman had been the only one to realize it was a mask for his pain. He had truly loved their mother, like he had never loved any of his mates before. Roman’s mother had been a beautiful person.

  “How would you have met my mother?” Roman asked, trying to make sense of that. “I didn't think she ever went into your territory. I don't see Hyacinthe thinking it smart to bring you over here. She was trying to keep you a secret.” Roman’s head hurt trying to figure it all out.

 

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