Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73252 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 366(@200wpm)___ 293(@250wpm)___ 244(@300wpm)
“Yeah,” I say, not really sure how to agree or disagree with that. Because on one hand, I feel like I know who I am. I like the person I’ve become.
I’ve seen some shit. I’ve lived through terrible things, and I’ve had people do terrible things to me, and I haven’t let it make me bitter. I haven’t let it cause me to give up or convince me that the world is full of horrible people. So maybe that part of me could only get stronger if I understood exactly where I came from.
But there’s another side of me I don’t even know how to use or tap into. And wondering what if wondering who I am and who I could be…I think it would haunt me forever unless I tried.
They say you regret the things you don’t do more than the things you did.
And if there’s one thing about me I know for sure, it’s that that’s true.
“I’ll go,” I say, and in that moment, my mind is completely made up.
“Wren,” Antonio says, trying to reason with me. “That’s insane.”
“Maybe it is.” I shake my head. “Or maybe this is exactly what I need. I’m a Blackwood witch. And if I can let this demon out, I can put him away. But we already know I can’t do it alone.”
Mabel’s shoulders hunch forward as she wraps her arms around herself. Her face falls, and I know she’s only sad because I’m right.
“You won’t be gone forever, will you?” she asks.
I look at Marie. “I assumed it would be, like, a couple-hours kind of thing.”
“If that’s what you’d like,” Marie says. “Shall we?”
“Should I change?” I ask, looking down at myself and suddenly feeling underdressed.
“You look fine to me,” she says. “But do whatever makes you comfortable.”
“Okay.”
I get to my feet, ignoring the looks of shock and disappointment on my brothers’ faces. “Wait. What are you supposed to wear to one of these things?”
Marie chuckles. “Anything you like. When we have formal coven gatherings, we tend to dress traditionally, though there are plenty of members in our coven who are challenging that. But the Covenstead itself is simply a safe place to go. Many witches even live there.”
I blink, taken aback all over again. What the hell is this place?
Is this a terrible idea?
It might be.
But it probably isn’t the worst one I’ve had all week.
“Give me five minutes,” I say, then hurry upstairs. I make it as far as my closet before Leo comes into the room.
“Don’t try to talk me out of this,” I tell him as I stare at my rows of clothes. I have absolutely no idea what to wear. To be honest, what I already have on is more my go-to outfit than anything else. Maybe I’ll stay like this and just quickly dry my hair and pull it back into a braid. Should I wear makeup? Definitely mascara. I shake my head. None of that matters.
“I’m not going to try talking you out of it,” Leo says.
I turn around to look at him in surprise.
“I can’t compare my struggles to yours,” he says, “but I know what it’s like to be different and unaccepted.” He laughs. “Being one of the few openly gay hunters in the Order has gotten me plenty of shit, you know.”
“I know,” I say. “And I’ve cursed a few people for how they treated you.”
“Seriously?”
I smile. “Let’s just say that potluck back in Omaha three years ago wasn’t food poisoning.”
“I always wondered why we were fine.”
He tips his head as he thinks back, and his eyes widen. “Larissa had horrible diarrhea for three days.”
Smirking, I shrug. “Call me petty.”
I pull a Lululemon sweatshirt from the closet and tie it around my waist.
Leo follows me into the bathroom while I apply the smallest amount of makeup—just enough to look put together. After towel-drying my hair again, I pull it back into a French braid.
“I’m not gonna tell you this is a good idea or that things are gonna be okay,” Leo says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small silver knife. He hands it to me. “But be smart, Wren.”
“I’ll be as smart as I can be,” I say, trying to keep the mood light.
“I’d say make sure your phone is charged, but I honestly don’t know if you’ll even have service at this place.”
“Ha. Right?” I swallow and push my shoulders back. I’m not sure if the prickling sensation going down my spine is excitement, anxiety, or a mix of both.
I’ve been very intuitive my whole life, though it would be remiss of me not to admit that sometimes it’s hard to discern what’s intuition and what’s anxiety.
Sometimes the things I know but haven’t accepted yet cause my nervous system to go insane. Other times, my nervous system is already insane, and I successfully convince myself something terrible is going to happen.