Page 28 of The Witch’s Daughter

I motioned to the table Gentry and the twins had gotten for us near the bonfire.

“You sound like my mom,” she muttered under her breath, as if I couldn’t hear her. Gods, this female was going to be the death of me.

“Besides,” she continued, “I’m not your coven.”

That did it. I stopped dead in my tracks, growling. “Every witch needs a coven.”

“Please.” Trish rolled her eyes, not at all affected by the dominance my wolf was pushing out in waves that would’ve made most wolves cower. “Gram didn’t need one, and we all weren’t a traditional coven anyway.”

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe Lisa brought us all together to be your coven, knowing she was going to pass away?” I snapped.

By the look on her face, she hadn’t realized that. But Trish was angry. “Even if she did, I didn’t choose this.”

She doesn’t mean that.

Her tongue was sharp as a whip and cut like a lash. My wolf growled again, urging her to submit and stop torturing us this way.

“Sometimes fate decides for us,” I said.

It was as true for her as it was for me.

And days like today, I cursed it.

You don’t mean that either.

“Do you plan to force me into this coven?” She cocked her hip to the side and planted her hand on it.

“No.” I didn’t know what had gotten into her, but I wasn’t backing down. “But you’ll stick with us if you know what’s good for you.”

“Is that a threat, Alpha?” She stepped closer, into my space.

It was hard to breathe with her intoxicating scent surrounding me and harder to think with my wolf urging me to throw her over my shoulder, to carry her back to the tent and end this madness between us.

“I don’t make threats,” I said, voice deadly calm. “I make promises.”

“You both sound like you need to eat,” Calla broke the standoff between Tisiphone and me.

Trish’s face twisted with horror as she looked over, realizing we had an audience. Our coven was seated around the picnic table and serving themselves from the shepherd’s pie Calla had placed between them.

“Don’t stop on our account.” Gentry chuckled. “I’m all for dinner and a show.”

“And if she doesn’t want to join us, more for me.” Calla shrugged.

An angry little growl sounded in Trish’s chest, but she smothered it with a cough. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

The twins eyed her warily. Whatever Ahmad was about to say was silenced with a look from me.

“Then sit down and eat,” I said, taking an open spot at the table and leaving it up to Tisiphone as to whether she joined us or not.

I clamped down on the howl of my beast when Trish mumbled her gratitude and took a seat beside me.

The pie Calla had managed to get for our table was good, but I didn’t take much, so the rest of them would have enough.

All the other tables around us had witches and warlocks from different covens with slight variations in clothing and dialect. It grew louder and more animated as they settled in for the promised bonfire tonight. I didn’t scent many wolf shifters—a few mixed in here and there—but none as many as us gathered in one place.

“You still do that,” Gentry said, pulling my gaze back to our group.

“Do what?” Tisiphone stopped her happy little food dance to look at him.