The Witch of the Prophecy Read online

  Was he looking for his clothes? Divina wasn’t about to help him. She wanted him to finish his train of thought. When it seemed he wasn’t about to share, she cleared her throat.

  “What does all of this have to do with the witches and me and some wolf?” she asked impatiently.

  “A vampire whose heart beats for a witch... The witch who belongs to a wolf… He will save all kinds. He gets the throne,” Rori murmured as he found his pants and stuffed his leg into them.

  “What are you talking about?” Divina asked with a hiss. His answer sparked an ire in her chest, the heat of it spread through her body, causing a prickle of tiny electric shocks spreading through her limbs. She balled her fists, slamming them on the armrests of the chair.

  “The vampire who belongs to the witch will end all kinds,” Rori said with a far-off stare.

  “Rori!” Divina screeched standing from the chair, flinging it backward.

  The air in the hotel room shifted, charged with the energy now radiating off Divina. With her eyes narrowed on Rori, she lifted her arms and the curtains blew away from the windows as if a windstorm rolled through the room. Pens, plastic cups, and the ice bucket on the desk behind Divina vibrated as she snarled at him. Her rage would not be ignored. She would not be ignored.

  The time when she was a helpless pawn in his games was over. She’d stand up for herself now. As a powerful witch, she’d not allow him to manipulate her any longer. She’d show him exactly what she’d been studying in the years they’d been apart.

  Swinging her arms so they went from out at her sides to straight before her, she flicked her palms upward. With that motion, a gust of wind barreled into Rori sending him flying back against the wall.

  The thud of his body hammered against the wall, and he preceded his slide down to his butt. Blinking a few times, Rori peered up at her with a puzzled wonderment. He lingered on the floor a moment before scrambling to his feet. As he did so, he tugged his pants up over his hips. “They have the wolf,” he said as if this would mean something to her. He hurriedly did up his fly. His belt buckle clinked as he struggled to secure it.

  “Who?” Divina pressed. Another flick of her wrist, pushed Rori against the wall once more.

  His arms flailed out as he once more collided with the wall. “I don’t know which one I am.” Rori looked panicked. “The witches seem to think they know which one I am, but I don’t know which one I am.”

  Lowering her arms, the wind in the room stopped. Stepping around the bed she approached him. He’d answered her the best way he could, and she still didn’t understand. When she raised her hands again he flinched, and her heart pinched.

  Unaccustomed to that response in him, Divina softened her features. Cupping her hands against his cheeks, she tilted her head and studied him. “Rori,” she whispered in an attempt to soothe him, to ground him, to get him to focus on her, and to explain clearly.

  Rori recoiled in the face of the shooting shocks from her palms upon his skin. He pulled her hands from his face and then thrust them at her. Gaping in confusion, he stared at her hands as if some sort of answer would spring forth from them.

  They’d just had sex. They’d just touched quite a bit. Skin on skin, skin in skin, yet there hadn’t been that pain, that shock that he now felt. It didn’t make sense. Florence, Florence’s spell had taken it away before perhaps it wore off?

  Lifting his gaze to meet hers, he frowned at the implication. Selene had explained it to him and now, now it made sense. With an ache in his chest, he explained it the way Selene had explained it to him.

  “That was against fate,” he whispered.

  “What?” Her face flushed red.

  What had Selene said about that burn? She said it meant that two fates were crossing in a way that wasn’t meant to be.

  He hadn’t felt it when he and Divina made love—that was meant to be. He felt it when she comforted him—that wasn’t meant to be. It made no sense.

  “Rori!” Divina shouted.

  He blinked at her. “The only way to know which vampire of the prophecy I am is to find you the wolf.”

  “What if I don’t want the wolf?” Divina asked. Ever the defiant one, Divina folded her arms over her bare chest. “Don’t I get a say in all this?” she said.

  Rori frowned. “If you don’t want the wolf, then I’m the one that will end all kinds.”

  Divina peered at him in disbelief. She shook her head.

  “No,” she said softly. “That can’t be. You don’t want to end anything.”

  Rori sighed. “Doesn’t mean it won’t happen. We have to see the witches again.”

  “No!” She held up her hands to him. “No,” she repeated with less drama. “I can’t go back there. They scare me.”

  Rori approached her. He reached his hands out. He wanted to comfort her, but he hesitated. The thrum of electricity in the air prickled his skin. That zing, that sharp electric jolt of touching her in any caring manner, it fucking hurt. Could he bear it to help her? Part of him wanted to. Part of him screamed to comfort her. The female voice in his head reminded him of the prophecy. If he comforted her, it would only further cement their bond together. If he fought through the pain to do what was best for her, then he would be the vampire who belongs to the witch.

  He stepped back from her.

  She regarded him with wide eyes.

  He looked away. The pain there; he caused it again. He hugged himself and turned his full body from her.

  “We have to see the witches,” he said softly, “just to find the wolf. Just to find out if I will end us all or save us all.”

  “I’m not going.”

  She turned on her heel and disappeared into the bathroom.

  Chapter 19

  Aric sat in the red vinyl booth of the diner peeling the label off his pony neck beer. His wolf curled up within him lazily, completely content at being surrounded by his own kind. Owned by shifters, run by shifters, and just outside the touristy area, the diner was a spot Aric frequented.

  Since Aric had memorized the menu, he scrolled through his phone, reading the text message returned from his pack elder, Bruce. He’d agreed to meet with Aric after work to discuss Aric’s concerns. Despite the previous night’s revelations, Aric kept the meeting.

  Bruce was an advisor to the pack alpha. He had done his time as an enforcer and even as a beta. He was a valuable resource to the pack. Aric hoped he would be able to shed some light on why anyone would come to him regarding some prophecy.

  The booth cushion wheezed under the weight of a two hundred-plus pound wolf. It awoke Aric from his thoughts. Opposite him sat a stocky man with salt and pepper hair. A human would assume he was in his fifties. The exaggerated creases in his face were a telltale sign of a man who’d seen a century or more. Bruce’s pale grey eyes confirmed he’d seen his fair share of life and history. They pierced their target in an inquisitive and scrutinizing manner, which left the most resilient of wolves showing submission. His eyes had a way of putting a guilty conscience on edge.

  Yet, they were bright when he smiled and greeted Aric. Aric had known Bruce his whole life. He considered him family and trusted Bruce with his life. That was what it meant to be in a pack.

  “How’s it going old timer?” Aric said, placing his phone beside the unread menu.

  Bruce thumbed through his, though Aric suspected he knew it as well, if not better than he did himself.

  “Oh, same ole, same ole.” He sighed. “So what’s this I hear about you and your wolf not getting along?”

  Aric snorted and took a sip of his beer. Bruce didn’t waste time with pleasantries and polite conversation. He cut right to it.

  “Ehh, that worked itself out. It seems I should trust my wolf more,” Aric admitted, placing the bottle down.

  “Our inner beasts tend to know more than we give them credit for,” Bruce replied.

  The waitress came and took their orders. Once the menus were gone, Bruce folded his hands together and
studied Aric. The air filled with the heavy silence between the two, despite the bustle of the other customers getting their food and drink beyond them.

  Aric shifted under the scrutiny.

  “You ever hear about a prophecy?” Aric asked.

  Bruce grunted. “Vampires and witches have been spouting off about prophecies for as far back as time goes.” Bruce waved a hand and dismissed the words and their implications.

  “Yeah.” Aric nodded. He had believed the same thing. “What about one that involved a wolf?” he asked.

  Bruce lifted his brow. “A wolf prophecy?” he repeated.

  Aric nodded.

  Bruce shook his head. “They ain’t never included us in their prophecies before.”

  Aric frowned and slumped a bit in his seat. He fingerd the lip of his beer bottle. It wasn’t that he wanted the prophecy to be true or anything. He wasn’t some white knight. He had no delusions of having some great importance in the world. He just hoped to make sense of the last two evenings.

  Bruce narrowed his gaze at Aric.

  The cute waitress returned, carrying their food. She went unacknowledged by Bruce as she placed their two beers down and took away Aric’s empty. Instead, Bruce’s old and penetrating gaze remained on Aric while he tilted his beer into his mouth.

  The weight of the look caused Aric to lower his gaze in recognition of Bruce’s place in the pack and out of respect. He took a hearty swig from his new beer, filling his mouth with the hoppy flavor, trying to swallow down his unease.

  “You been to a seer or something?” Bruce asked.

  Aric shook his head. Internally he debated how best to explain things succinctly. “Let’s say a witch came to me claiming I’m some prophecy wolf,” Aric said as he lifted his gaze toward the pack elder.

  Bruce paused with his beer halfway to his lips. He blinked. His full body shook, and his face turned red when he laughed. He brought his beer down with a slam and shook his head.

  Heat crept up Aric’s chest and spread across his reddening cheeks. The response, though familiar, wasn’t what he expected. He wasn’t sure what to expect, really, but laughter? That wasn’t it. He picked at the label on his new beer.

  “Sorry,” Bruce said trying to stifle his chuckles with a hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean....” He took a deep breath. “And what exactly did this witch say you were supposed to do in this prophecy?” Bruce asked once he settled himself.

  Aric focused on getting the label off his beer in one piece. He wouldn’t lift his eyes to the other shifter. He couldn’t face him after being laughed at just yet. How could he even think of troubling an elder with such absurdity?

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know. They never really said. Or well, if they did, they didn’t let me remember. All I know is they said I was the key,” Aric said.

  “They?” Bruce pressed. “They didn’t let you remember?”

  “It’s a witch and a vampire,” Aric clarified.

  Bruce’s face dropped. His jovial laughter had ceased completely. He put his beer down and leaned back in the booth.

  Aric raised his gaze and furrowed his brow, sensing the shift in his pack mate. The older wolf regarded him with an intensity he’d never seen before in the man. Had he done something wrong? Had he spoken too loud about their kind? Were there human’s around?

  Aric looked over his shoulder but saw nothing other than dining wolves. He faced Bruce’s assessing gaze.

  Aric rolled his shoulders back, which thrust his chest forward. His wolf, fully awake stood on guard, prepared to pounce if needed.

  Who was he kidding? Bruce’s age and training would have Aric dead in moments if it came to it.

  Aric slumped back into bad posture on his side of the booth.

  “A witch and a vampire came to you about a prophecy,” Bruce said.

  Bruce’s inquisitive and skeptical tone sparked something within Aric. He sat upright again. His wolf paced alertly within him. Aric studied the elder shifter. The sharp contrast from the laughter indicated something was very off.

  Aric nodded unsure where this conversation would lead.

  Bruce pulled out his phone. He tapped at the screen quickly. Aric tried to peer over the edge and get a glimpse at the screen.

  “What?” Aric asked when Bruce tilted his phone so that Aric couldn’t see.

  Bruce didn’t answer. Instead, he swiped his finger over the screen. His cheek twitched when his jaw tightened.

  Aric’s wolf nipped at his insides urging Aric to press for answers.

  Two grass-fed Angus burgers were plopped in front of each of them by the cheery waitress. Aric forced a smile to the waitress in thanks so that she would go away.

  Bruce concentrated on his phone screen. Consumed with whatever it displayed, he ignored the waitress and the meal she had brought them. She left without a word from Bruce.

  “Klaus met the sun,” Bruce muttered eventually.

  Aric waited for more. Nothing came. Bruce still stared at his phone.

  “What does that mean for wolves?” Aric asked.

  Bruce lifted a dead-eyed gaze. “On the new moon, the council will have a new member,” he said. “The vampires have to decide which one of them will take his seat on the council of others.”

  Aric had expected more of an explanation. However, the two just stared at one another. He regarded Bruce with curiosity. “Still not seeing how that has anything to do with wolves,” he said.

  Bruce put his phone down. He leaned in. “It’s complicated. And with witches, it’s always riddles,” Bruce said, exasperated. “But suffice it to say, that the wolf who’s mated to a witch will have a lot to do with the vampire who takes that seat.”

  Aric furrowed his brow. “She’s not my mate.”

  Bruce sighed. “By the new moon, she might be.”

  Aric’s wolf’s hackles went up. The rumble in his throat accentuated the snarl of the human. The wolf snapped within him in displeasure.

  Bruce regarded him with a lifted brow.

  “Then we might have to have that talk about my wolf and I not agreeing,” Aric said.

  Bruce sat back and folded his arms over his chest. His hard features glared at Aric. “Then you just might not be the prophetic wolf,” he said.

  Aric’s inner beast balked at the statement. Aric sat back and stared off at nothing, his eyes looked ahead without focus. He wasn’t an alpha wolf. He wasn’t even an enforcer. He was just a run-of-the-mill average wolf in a pack. He wasn’t meant for any prophecy.

  “You and your wolf disagreeing again?” Bruce asked and broke through Aric’s thoughts.

  Aric blinked, and the world came back into focus. Bruce chewed on his burger. Aric glanced down at his own untouched meal. He had lost his appetite.

  “I need to run,” Aric said. He placed his palms on the table and pushed himself up out of the booth.

  Bruce nodded. “Best thing to do.” He shoved three French fries into his mouth. “Let the beast roam, give him control. Your human is fucking it all up,” Bruce said.

  Aric looked down at the old wolf enjoying his meal. The man had gone from laughing at him for the idea of him being the wolf of some prophecy, to pretty much confirming he was the wolf. Aric shook his head. He had sought the elder for answers and only left with more questions.

  Chapter 20

  With the warm water cascading over her, Divina followed the directions on the shampoo bottle for the first time in her life. She actually rinsed and repeated, until the tiny hotel bottle was empty. She allowed the warm water to run over her skin in an attempt to wash away the betrayal she felt once again by Rori.

  The white-tiled tub and shower combination served as a sanctuary away from Rori, his prophecy, and the witches. As the air around her steamed, she cursed herself. She should have known. She should have anticipated his disregard for her needs. How foolish of her to believe he’d changed. Then she slept with the manipulating bastard! What was she thinking?

  When she’d run o
ut of soaps and hot water, she wrapped herself in fluffy towels and a plush hotel-supplied robe. She sat upon the toilet and generously slathered lotion on her skin. She blow dried her hair with extra care. By the time she exited the bathroom, she smelled of a floral mixture and had perfectly styled hair.

  Divina glanced around the small hotel room and noted there was not one single sign of Rori. She chewed her bottom lip as conflicting emotions battled within her. Her body lost the tension with his absence, but her shoulders slumped in disappointment at his persistent lack of loyalty toward her.

  With a sigh, she collected the few belongings that had made it to the hotel room in their rush. She left the keycard on the end table and closed the door. Closing her eyes, she flopped back against the wall.

  “Everything all right ma’am?” The male voice awoke her from wallowing in discontent.

  Turning toward the voice, Divina saw a young man, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen, in a polo shirt and khakis.

  “Not really, but I knew that going into this,” she said.

  The young man quirked a brow. “Are you locked out of your room?” He gestured toward the door. “I can help you get another key made.”

  A half smile crossed her lips. “No.” She looked back at the door. “I think I might have finally shut that door for the last time.”

  Turning back toward the young hotel employee, Divina was met with a perplexed expression. She offered him a weak smile and pushed off the wall.

  The man shrugged. “Okay, well”—he rubbed the back of his neck—“if you need anything, just call the front desk.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  With her head high, Divina sauntered past the young man. How many times did Rori have to leave her before she got the point? He wasn’t on her side. He’d never be. His only concern would be about the prophecy and doing the witches’ bidding. He’d never put her first. She had to do this alone. Most importantly, she could do it alone.