Coven of the Wolf, 1
Emilia thought she'd buried her past.
After being rejected by her fated mate nearly a decade ago, the half-witch, half-wolf built a quiet life in the small town of Crystal Falls running a psychic shop. But when tarot cards warn her that death and destiny are returning, she knows one thing for certain.
Warick is coming back.
The Alpha Hunter who rejected her arrives hunting a rogue killer and the trail leads straight to Emilia. Forced to work together, old wounds ignite into dangerous desire as they uncover a darker truth.
Something in the woods is summoning corrupted creatures using forbidden soul magic. And Emilia may be the key to stopping it.
But the deeper they dig, the clearer it becomes… the magic behind the killings isn’t just targeting Warick. It’s targeting their bond.
Because someone in Emilia’s past is willing to burn the entire forest to claim power and Emilia and Warick are standing in the way.
Excerpt:
I want to hate him. Goddess, I want to hate him, but hate doesn’t burn like this. Hate doesn’t make my pulse skip when his shoulder brushes mine. Hate doesn’t twist into my gut when he growls low under his breath, every muscle in his back straining against that tight black shirt.
No. This isn’t hate. It’s the bond and it’s lust coiling low in my stomach. The goddess-damned, soul-scarring, mate-bond. And it’s eating us alive.
We reach the edge of Crystal Falls just as the first stars blink into existence above the trees. The little town is quiet now, streetlights glowing amber, windows shuttered, and shop doors locked. It should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t.
Warick stops beside me, his nostrils flaring. “It’s too quiet.”
“There’s no movement in the ether,” I say softly, brushing my palm across the air. “Whoever’s behind this knows how to hide.”
“Or they’ve lived here longer than we think,” he says lowly.
I glance at him. He’s looking at the bakery across the street like it might bite him.
“I’ll tap into the ward lines,” I murmur. “The town’s woven with old protections. I can bend them enough to show us what’s out of place.”
His jaw clenches. “Are you sure that’s safe?”
I smirk. “Are you scared I might burn something down?”
“More scared you’ll burn yourself,” he mutters.
My stomach flutters before I can stop it. That’s stupid. He doesn’t give a shit about me. He’s just protecting the witch that’s helping him, that’s all. Pain slices through my heart and I turn away before he can see it.
“Let me work,” I say angrily.
The ritual takes all of ten minutes. I kneel in the center of the crossroad, my fingers splayed on the cold pavement, and a small amount of my blood smeared at each corner. The magic hums low in my chest as I chant. Not loud and not dramatic. Just enough to put the ritual into motion.
A shimmer rolls through the street like heat off asphalt and suddenly, the town breathes. Warick stiffens behind me.
“Do you see it?” I ask.
“I see something…”
The shimmer sharpens, showing glowing footprints in the dust, too large to be human. A long smear of dark magic trails from the edge of the lake, winding through alleys, across cobblestones, and back into the woods again.
And woven into that path? A sigil. One I’ve seen before, one that makes my pulse stall.
Warick’s voice cuts through the haze. “Do you recognize it?”
I nod. “This isn’t just some killer you’re chasing. It’s a damn summoner.”
He goes still for a long moment. “You said that thing isn’t a full wolf.”
“It isn’t. It was made, summoned.”
“Made with what?”
I look at him, my throat tight as I answer. “With soul magic.”
His eyes darken, anger rolling off him in waves. “That’s forbidden.”
“Tell that to the thing that tried to rip your spine out,” I bite back. “Sorry. I know soul magic is forbidden, but that clearly didn’t stop someone from summoning this thing.”
We follow the trail deep into the woods behind the falls.
I keep my energy low, and my spell work shielded. Warick stalks ahead like a shadow with intent, his every movement controlled, silent, and deadly. I don’t ask how he moves so quietly for someone his size. I’ve seen him fight before. I know what he is when he’s angry.
And right now? He’s fucking furious. But not at me. No, his anger is aimed at the thing that is hunting us. And at the bond. Perhaps even at himself. Right now, he is pissed off at everything except me it seems.
The trail stops at the ruins of an old chapel, half-swallowed by ivy, trees and fallen stones. The air here is heavier. Sickness clings to the moss-covered walls like mold and I almost gag from the magical pressure alone.
“This is it,” I whisper. “The summoning site.”
Warick crouches beside a blackened sigil etched into a rock. “This symbol…”
“Isn’t wolf,” I say, cutting in. “It’s void born.”
His head snaps up, his gaze connecting with mine. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means whoever’s behind this has been to places wolves don’t go. Places witches only whisper about.”
- Series:
- /series-coven-of-the-wolf/
