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Walker could not be gone. And not because of a debt, but because, without him, I might choke on all the things I didn’t get to say.
“He can’t die,” I whispered.
“Your mother died for his sister,” one of the Elders, Lyra, argued. “It’s already been paid.”
I ran my eyes over her fine robes, grim face, and silky hair. Of course, she couldn’t understand the weight of death. She was over three hundred years old.
“He saved countless lives today,” I argued. “My mother, brave as she was, technically saved a witch—a member of our coven at that.”
“You’ll get us all killed,” Gloria accused.
My resolve wavered, but only for a second. Saving Walker, no matter how it had to happen, could not be a bad thing. There was no world that would be better without him. He was so godsdamned good.
I only hoped I didn’t get my coven killed to save him.
“What about him, Freya?” Rhea challenged. “You know the risks.”
“He’s not a normal human,” I argued. “He’s different—his spirit still fights even after wielding the Bloodblade.”
Cadence wiped the tears from her face. “Whatever it is, my brother can handle it. Walker handles everything.”
They still stared at us in uncertainty.
“No one’s ever tried to turn a hunter,” I reminded them, “or a man with witch blood.”
Gloria scoffed. “That’s for certain.”
“The High Witch won’t be happy,” Lyra added.
“The High Witch failed to lift a damn finger throughout Josephine’s entire crusade,” I shot back and took a deep breath. “I’m doing this, with or without you, but I’d very much prefer your help. The more power thrown into this, the better chance of it working. You all know that.”
Like lost lambs, they stared at me. Unsure of how else to convince them, I faced Walker and once again knelt by his side. I took his hand in mine. Already, it had cooled, but his soul fought.
Keep fighting, cowboy, I thought. You’ll need that spirit if you’re to become a witch.
Epilogue
Walker
Cold darkness surrounded me. No stars twinkled in the sky, and no trees swayed on the horizon. I couldn’t even discern my own body in the endless sea of nothing. I only felt the absence of heat in my limbs and the lack of air in my lungs.
Is this death?
At least flames no longer burned through my veins. I didn’t have to dodge any mythical creatures’ attacks. I didn’t have to fear I might not see tomorrow. The fight was over. I’d made sure of it.
I could sleep.
A close-lipped smile stretched across my face.
“I know how you feel,” a warm, feminine voice said. “Peace is a wondrous thing.”
I opened my eyes and surged upright. Her green eyes shone like gems in the night, and her warm brown skin glowed. She sat cross-legged on a floor of nothing at all, though her shimmery white dress pooled by her feet.
Peace you just ruined.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“I don’t like to list all the necessary greats,” she said and cast her dark brown hair over her shoulder. “But I’m essentially your grandmother, Gwendolyn Moonflower.”
