Penn had never been in an official Circle before. She’d shared power before, of course. Every witch started doing that withher sisters or her cousins roundabout the time they could walk, but she’d never been in the official, twelve-talents Circle of her coven, not that she would ever admit that to the witches arrayed around the dining room table. She didn’t have to admit it; she was pretty sure they’d already figured it out.
“Our aunt is never gonna go for this,” a woman named Becca said from across the table. She was Goldie’s sister. Penn couldn’t see it. Goldie was a head taller and willowy with a shock of gold hair and the personality of a hedgehog compared to Becca’s sweet disposition.
After a chaotic dinner where everyone had a suggestion, they’d pared down the group doing the planning. Becca’s talent was healing, which Penn honestly hoped would not be a talent they needed, but they were also probably not going to be that lucky.
“We’re not gonna need our aunt,” Goldie said confidently. “Between the two Circles, we have all twelve talents. We don’t need to double up.”
The two women felt like sisters when they talked with a combination of amusement, exasperation, care, and grinding, decades–long patience.
“Do we really want to risk it?” Becca asked.
Goldie tossed her mane of hair. “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me you and your wolf’s power doesn’t dwarf any Circle.”
Penn swallowed. Becca was married to a wolf and had two children who both had magic and wolves themselves, even the boy. No one else thought that tilted the world on its axis. They were playing outside now with some of the pack children.
Penn wasn’t sure if she genuinely wanted kids, or if the expectations of the coven had seeped so deeply into her psyche that the idea of not wanting kids was unthinkable. It was the main duty of any witch: to make more witches. She thought ofAsher and children with his light hair and her eyes and felt a surprising wave of grief for children who had yet to exist.
“We go with the people who want to be here,” one of the Abbott witches said, the tallest one with bracelets all over her arms. Penn had heard all their names and promptly forgotten them. She remembered it was a boy’s name. Billy? Charlie! She was a divination witch, so her words held more weight.
A pot clattered, and she glanced into the kitchen with a sigh. Kathleen was the only one who wasn’t helping. She started cooking around ten in the morning, and even though she’d whipped up both lunch and dinner for at least forty people between the pack and the visiting coven, she was still at it.
If this went wrong, the old lady would never forgive her. Penn had been trying not to think of it all day, but the terror of what she was risking flooded back into her mind.
If she were wrong, there would be no way to stay here. Asher would be gone, and a dire wolf pack with venom-dripping fangs that were probably still functional would blame her.
She put it away again. Genuinely, none of that mattered. The chance for a life with him was worth everything.
“And you really shared power through the wolves?” Charlie asked.
They all turned to Quinn, the only witch who’d ever messed with this spell before. “I pulled on Kathleen through Malcolm. It felt totally normal.”
“It didn’t hurt?” Charlie demanded.
Kathleen abandoned her pot and stood at the edge of the dining room. “It felt like a Circle. I shared power with my mate and my sons for decades. It felt exactly like that.”
“I can’t even imagine that much power,” Charlie murmured.
This is about a human being.Penn wanted to shout.A human being and a wolf, and a snake who are having a really bad day.They were treating this as a challenge and a chancefor power. She bit her tongue. Why did it matter why they were doing it?Because if the going gets tough, who will they protect?
Charlie leaned over to grab a marker off the table. “Can I use this?”
Kathleen nodded, and Charlie turned to the wall and drew a big circle.
Penn squawked, but Kathleen just laughed. “I’m a potion witch. Do whatever you want to the wall.”
Charlie didn’t even hear her. “So a Circle of Abbott witches and wolves, and then Goldie, you’re gonna have to be right next to me in the Scott Circle.”
“My favorite place on earth,” Goldie said flatly. Penn’s eyes bounced between them. It was obvious the hostility was long-standing, but Penn couldn’t decide if they were giving it up for her or if it had already mellowed with time and marriage.
“‘Cause then we can get to all the Scott wolves through your mate,” Charlie said, drawing a second circle.
“That’s how I did it,” Quinn said.
Kathleen turned to her. “You’re not doing it.”
“Why not?” Quinn asked.
“This is a beast of a spell. We’re not putting a fetus in the circle.”
