Page 30 of The Witch’s Daughter

She sucked in a sharp breath, as did Calla and many other females around us, when a figure moved to stand beside Sarah in front of the bonfire.

That’s him. My wolf began to growl.

The Ossory witch appeared flustered, stumbling back as the warlock smiled at her before turning to address the crowd.

11

Trish

That’s him? My wolf huffed, not at all impressed with the warlock who stood by the bonfire.

Vincent Matthis was decent-looking in that clean-cut, pretty boy way, with a strong jawline and blond hair swept to the side of his face. Tall, but not shifter male tall. Definitely not dark and mysterious like I’d expect some rumored powerful warlock to be.

I could see why some of the other females were sitting up straighter in their seats, but Vincent wasn’t my cup of tea.

Not that I had a type.

I glanced at Jaxon, seeing the tension in his shoulders, and then looked straight ahead again.

Vincent knew the effect he had on the crowd and smiled cockily, absorbing it. “For those who received my invitation, I apologize for the dramatic flair and bit of secrecy. I’m grateful to Ossory Pack for hosting this event and allowing me to steal the spotlight for a moment.”

The tone of his voice was soothing. Magical almost. My wolf zoned in suspiciously while the other witches and warlocks seemed to relax. Sarah Ossory blinked her pretty eyes at Vincent, stepping back so he could take over.

“I come to you tonight with a matter of grave concern.” Magic carried Vincent’s voice louder so everyone could hear. “All of us gathered here today have been raised on the stories of what goes on behind the purist humans’ concrete walls and electric borders designed to keep nature out…”

A chorus of boos rippled through the crowd.

Vincent’s gaze seemed to land on our table of wolf-witches before it swept over the gathering as he raised his hands to quiet them down.

“And we know they call our wolven brethren mutants,” he said. “They say magic is a disease of the mind. An illusion. One that can only be explained with science.”

I ignored the few eyerolls and disbelieving chuckles, feeling uneasy at his words. Nothing he was saying wasn’t common knowledge.

But my pack had more of that knowledge than others did. Even Calla, Gentry, and Jaxon’s packs, despite their close proximity to Ethica’s human borders, hadn’t come to Cerberus’s aid during the great battle until the last possible minute.

My mom and Aunt Coral had grown up with the humans. They’d escaped before escape was known to be possible. And it was my Alpha who’d taken on the human city closest to us, challenging them and changing things for the better in our region when she stopped the experimentation on wolf shifter pups and forced them to open their borders.

Alpha Kera had established trade with the human city of Ethica and ushered in a new era for our territories.

But the human city still operated much the same as it always had. According to Mom, humans were brainwashed and slow to change.

“After the bio-cleanse wars in our ancient past, when the humans built their purist cities and the wolf packs formed their protective territories to heal the earth, humans thought they could rid themselves of nature and magic,” Vincent continued to give us a history lesson, speaking with the passion of a male personally scorned. “But nature and magic cannot be eradicated. Earth is magic. Life is magic.”

He paused as cheers rang out.

I wanted to join them, but something wasn’t sitting right with me. And the rest of my coven was also silent as we waited for the warlock to get to the point.

“We all know the stories of Ethica and the battles in the west.” Vincent looked directly at our coven.

So much for anonymity. I shrank in my seat. Jaxon’s fists tightened on the table, and the others in our coven tensed. Whispers rippled through the crowd. Eyes turned our way. Calla’s wolves growled as they raised their heads, pressing their bodies against her legs.

“But the atrocities the humans committed against wolf shifters are not their only sins.” Vincent turned away from us and it seemed the warmth of the fire went with him. “The humans’ crimes continue unchecked behind their walls as they target the very earth herself—and the stewards she chooses at birth to host her magic.”

Everyone went silent. Even the fire refused to crackle. I inhaled a slow breath, already knowing where this was going.

It was a question I’d grown up with. One my sisters and I’d asked a thousand times, every time our mom told us her history. She’d never been able to answer. Were there more like her trapped among the humans?

By the disgust marring Vincent’s expression, I assumed he knew the truth. “Witches and warlocks are born under human purist rule, forced to hide their true natures or risk being discovered and tortured. We live free while our brothers and sisters are burned at the stake.”