Blood & Wine

18 | Eden

Every time I closed my eyes, images of Fynley plagued me. All because he had the audacity to plant some stupid image in my mind yesterday with his little stunt with his Intended. I had dreamed last night that I was her, and when I woke up, I was covered in sweat, hot and bothered, and aggravated. Every time I saw the werwolf, I literally wanted to shove a silver pick through his heart.

"We want to be introduced to the newest member," one of the blondes said, her eyes alight with interest.

I paused, looking up at them with tamed annoyance. "Excuse me?" My voice was frosty. "You don't demand me to do anything."

Apparently I hadn't hidden my annoyance as much as I thought because the other flinched. "Eden, we weren't demanding anything," she rushed to say. "We heard from Missie that someone new was inducted. We just thought we should meet him."

"Why?"

From across the room, Calla lifted her head and stared at me, catching the irritation. Dasher was at home meditating. In the week since he had Changed, nothing had happened, and we hadn't had any incidents with him. He was a fast study, picking up magically more naturally than those that had been born and raised in a Coven. He had yet to find his element, though.

He wanted it to be air, like my Aunt Imelda, even if he didn't say it out loud.

Calla wanted it to be fire.

I could give a rat's ass if he ever chose an element, as long as he was happy and could protect himself.

What he had told us he asked the Moon Goddess—to find his family's killers and avenge them when he was ready—made my stomach twist a little bit. Not because I was afraid of him or for him—but because I was afraid of when he would leave. After the killed them, he wouldn't need his Coven anymore.

And I had already grown attached to the big-headed witch-wolf.

"Because," the other said, her voice wavering but her chin high in the air, "he is a new witch. He should get to know the community."

No, Missie had seen Dasher by incident when I invited her over to join the Coven. She had drooled over him, werwolf side be damned, and when she realized he was a member of my Coven, she had wanted to join. I, however, had rudely declined her. She was neither strong enough nor smart enough to work with us.

I also didn't like the way she continued to flirt with him, even though he had politely warded off her advances.

She had pointed out something, though—more witches would be willing to join with Dasher there, and if he did end up leaving the Coven for the werewolf pack, there would be a connection that could protect the Coven.

I had pointed her ass to the door. My cousin was no incentive to join a Coven. Either they wanted to be there or they didn't. I wanted witches who were fully in, and I wouldn't run out of time because this was my destiny. Mother Goddess would make sure I fulfilled my destiny.

"Why would he need to meet you two?" I asked. "Do you represent the community? Last time I heard, you were struggling to learn potions."

They flinched.

Calla strode toward me then, curiosity in her eyes. She said nothing, though, just dropped the boxes of pancake mix—Dasher's favorite—into the shopping cart. She also had some bottles of syrup she slowly placed in there as well.

"Take this back to whoever thinks they're going to get a look at the newest member of my Coven: if any of you approach me for any other reason besides being interested in actually joining the Coven for the sake of creating a family within it, I will cut your tongues out and use them in binding spells. Is that clear?"