“Ashlee, what are you doing? You cannot win this. It’s too late for me. Run while you still can.” His voice sounded desperate. “Find a spell that separates us, that undoes our mating. Then you’ll be safe. Leave me.”
Ashlee’s eyes welled up with tears, and the little control she possessed on her emotion was lost. “Leave you? Out of everything you have said to me since you woke up bespelled, that is the worst. I can’t leave you, I never will. I’m carrying a piece of your soul around inside of me, just as you have mine. Neither of us will ever be okay without the other one. If one of us dies, the other does too. Get over your macho ideas. I’m in this for the long haul.”
The wind sped its assault on her face and she raised her arm to block its way. Tristan stood still, his breaths coming in sharp pants. His fists clenched at his sides, he roared loudly before he spoke. “I will not have you hurt, Ashlee. I can’t be the cause of that, either by my own doing or because you are hurt trying to help me.”
Ashlee knew she would feel the same if the situation was reversed. But she couldn’t focus on that now. If she were cursed, Tristan would move heaven and hell to save her.
She would do no less for the man whose very existence had altered her life so completely.
“I call upon thee, Watchtower of the North. Protect this circle and those who surround it. I call upon you for sanctity against those who cause us harm.”
From out of the gray rocks Ashlee had laid on the ground, steam rose to the sky. It encircled Tristan and Ashlee until she could only see only him. It was like they were the only two people left on earth.
Ashlee swallowed so her voice wouldn’t shake. “Well, Tristan, one way or another, this spell will cease to plague us, my love.”
“Ashlee, I don’t think you appreciate the tenuous hold I have on my control.”
Tristan sounded desperate and Ashlee hated it. Soon he would be the man who fate had chosen for her to mate, who had ordered her to free him from the cage and rescued her when she’d been alone in the woods. If Ashlee had her way, Tristan would never again have to suffer like this.
Ashlee leaned back and raised both arms to embrace the sky. The rain pounded down on her; it was cold. She closed her eyes and ran through her depth of knowledge one more time. What the Aunts had known, she knew. It would have to be enough.
When she opened her eyes, she felt calm and sure of herself, clear in her resolve.
“I call upon the fates that created us, the power of magic that runs through our veins, the spirit that guards all animals. I ask you for the power to see.” Ashlee felt a little bit dizzy, but she would not fall down. “I plead with you for the power of sight so that I might save him.” Ashlee fell forward, overwhelmed by the surge that hit her body.
She felt like she’d fallen twenty stories. Somehow she found the strength to stand back up. When she looked at Tristan, she knew she had succeeded in her task. She could see the spell all over him.
Tristan stood, still tall and proud despite his slumped shoulders. His face, an unreadable mask of emotion, looked exhausted. But now Ashlee could see the spell the witch had cast so many years ago like it was a living, breathing entity on Tristan. It fed on Tristan, behaved like a parasite, ate at his very soul while it injected itself into his bloodstream. The damn thing was toxic, and if she didn’t get it out and off of Tristan, it would kill her mate.
Ashlee could see the spell. It covered Tristan’s whole body. Lines formed and disappeared as it moved over him and ate away at his soul. The malignant spell had a sickly green hue, and Ashlee couldn’t help but be reminded of the way vines eventually strangled the trees they lived on to death. That was what was happening to Tristan. But now she could see it, and now she would destroy it.
Chapter Fourteen
Ashlee flung her hands towards the sky. It was time to lower the separation between Tristan and the others. Pack magic was all that could help them now. She needed to call upon the magic they jointly shared—the special gifts that allowed them to shift and to speak with each other telepathically. Essentially, Ashlee was going to borrow the magic of her kin and pour it into Tristan until he was clean of the spell. Then they would finish it off by pouring the blood of the witch—she hoped Cullen had finished with the witch by now—on the ground of the sacred circle, which would cleanse the island and prevent other witches from performing spells to curse them.
Piece of cake.
If only she shared her four-legged counterpart’s confidence. If the Aunts’ knowledge was to be trusted, calling down the elements for protection and being gifted with the sight was the easy part. This next part might be tricky.
“Barriers down.” On her command, the fog that had surrounded them lifted skywards. The pack once again surrounded her.
Her voice sounded secure and that was the best she could do. Tristan’s eyes turned wolf and she hoped he wasn’t going to call a shift onto himself. This Tristan she could work with; as a wolf, she might as well lie down and let him kill her.
She took a deep breath and reminded herself that when this was over, she would have her Tristan back. The man who had promised her a future she’d actually believed in, who didn’t care that she couldn’t conceive babies, and who had been willing to leave everything he’d ever known or loved to be with her. He was an extraordinary person whose soul she held with her own. In the end, this would all be a memory, and their future would be what counted.
For the last time, Ashlee raised her hands as she stared at Michael. This would all come from him, the Alpha. His power was their own. “I call upon the powers that made us to fill me with our pack magic so I may cure Tristan of this malicious spell and free the pack of this burden.” The words, formal and remote, weren’t her own, but they flowed off of her tongue like she had said them for years.
Ashlee looked out of the circle to the pack. The spell would call on them now.
Michael fell to his knees. He screamed in agony and a red light pushed out of his body into hers. Ashlee braced herself for the power to enter her, but the surge that found its way into her body was light and easy for her to handle. She frowned. She certainly didn’t feel more powerful, but maybe that was how it was supposed to work.
Tristan grabbed his head and fell to the ground and did not utter a sound. Ashlee could see the spell that was woven around Tristan start to pulsate, as if it understood she was going to rid Tristan of its impurity. Even in her panic for her beloved, Ashlee couldn’t help but think that the witch who designed it had been particularly devious. At the first sign of its removal, it had been set to kill the victim. Well, she would be faster.
She pooled what little pack magic she had received through her body and raised her hand, willing the power to travel through her body, into her hand, and out toward Tristan.
Then, if she was lucky, she would be able to direct the power over Tristan’s body where the spell ate at him.
Ashlee pushed the power from her body. It exited without too much fuss and Ashlee wondered where the excruciating pain the Aunts had thought would accompany the power transfer was. Tristan’s body absorbed the power and Ashlee thought she heard some gasps from the pack that stood in silence around her circle of stones.
The spell, a brownish, green color on Tristan’s body, waned a little. Ashlee saw Tristan take a deep breath, relief evident on his beautiful features. He looked up at her from the ground where he lay and opened his mouth to say something. With a wrenched groan, he rolled over, pain once again obvious on his face.
Ashlee shook her hand hard. Where was the power? The power was all gone; she’d passed all of it onto Tristan and it still hadn’t been enough. In front of Ashlee’s eyes, stars appeared. She shook her head to try to clear the sensation but it didn’t help. The sensation increased until she had no choice but to sink to her knees to try to clear the dizziness.