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“He only meant he didn’t want to see you in fear,” I told her. “He loves you. It’s clear as day.”
It was. His bloodshot eyes brightened when they looked at his daughter. It was also painfully clear that when he looked at Walker, he didn’t allow himself to feel anything but shame. I would be embarrassed too if someone with no guidance at all managed to become a better person than I could ever dream of being.
When I looked at Walker, maybe I felt shame too.
He was so godsdamned good.
I shoved that thought aside and focused on Cadence. She still faced the forest, though she finally caught her breath.
“I know,” she answered. “It’s not that.”
I waited for her to continue and sat on the grassy hill. Perhaps I was a coward, but I refused to get any closer to the woods. Cadence heard me sit and joined me. As she spoke, she wrung her hands in her lap, just like her father had done.
She’s not all witch after all.
“Everyone wants to protect me,” she said, “but what if it only gets you killed? All Walker ever does is take care of me. I don’t want him to die because of it.”
Her voice cracked, and I pulled her into a hug. I wasn’t sure what the Reids had done to make me so ridiculously affectionate, but I couldn’t watch Cadence cry without doing something about it. She sobbed into my chest, and I ran my hands through her tangled hair, just how my mother had consoled me.
“He won’t die,” I promised her. “I won’t let him.”
I meant it with every fiber in my being. Though he lacked a lot of survival instincts, I wouldn’t let Walker get himself killed. This was my coven’s mess to deal with, not his. At least not his alone.
Cadence pulled back to look in my eyes. “You can’t die either, Freya. Who will teach me how to be the most badass witch ever?”
I laughed. “You should watch your potty mouth, badass.”
She giggled and finally released me.
“Thanks, Freya.”
“Anytime, kid.”
“I hardly believe my eyes,” a deep voice drawled behind us. “The wicked witch has a heart after all.”
I shot a glare at Walker over my shoulder and fought the urge to cringe away from Cadence. Mom had taught me to be strong in the face of danger, but she’d also wanted me to be warm and gentle with those I loved. She’d found a balance between the two things. It was time I did as well.
Walker stood with his hands in his pockets and wore a knowing smirk. Clearly, my discomfort was not as camouflaged as I’d hoped.
“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he said. “I won’t tell the rest of the world.”
Sweetheart?
The endearment chafed me and enthralled me all at once. I wanted to know if he said it with any degree of sincerity, but his focus had already shifted to his sister. I was quite positive, however, the flush that crawled up his neck wasn’t from Cadence.
Sweetheart. Ridiculous.
He walked farther down the hill. “Dad’s real sorry, Cady-Cat.”
Cadence wiped the last remnants of tears off her face and nodded.
“He always is,” she said, though her voice lacked any vehemence.
Walker sighed and stared into the woods, then winced. He clutched his head in his hands.
I rose to my feet. “Walker?”
While Cadence rushed to his side, I searched our surroundings for any signs of an attack. Nothing hummed in the air, and nothing scurried through the forest other than a rabbit or two. I cast my magic like a net over the forest and searched for tiny hints of magic. Even the dark witches left a small trace, if you knew how to look. My magic touched every tree and weathered rock. Everything seemed in perfect order—there was no excess of wind or earth or energy. I found nothing but the faint echo of the Bloodblade’s power.
