Chapter 123

Elijah

Within moments of beginning the ritual, Agnes’s head fell backwards and her eyes rolled back. Panic lanced through me and I surged forward, reaching for her.

“Agnes—”

“Don’t touch her,” the witch said, holding out one hand to stop me. “She’s fine.”

“Fine?” I echoed, letting out an incredulous laugh that had no humor in it. “Her damn eyes are rolled back in her head!”

The witch glanced up at me, looking unbothered by the whole ordeal. “Just give her a moment. She might be communicating with her wolf, and I don’t want to interrupt.”

I opened my mouth to tell the witch to go to hell, but snapped it shut after a moment. If there was any chance for Agnes to finally lift the curse and get her wolf back after all these years, then I didn’t want to get in the way. Even if it was fucking terrifying to watch the woman I cared about suddenly look like she was being possessed.

Agnes remained like that for some time, her head lolling and her eyes rolled back. Her eyelids fluttered on occasion, her lips twitching as if she were having a vivid dream or hallucination. Meanwhile, the witch slowly began to burn sage around her, the fragrant smoke wasting into the air.

“How is this supposed to work?” I finally asked, if only to break the uncomfortable silence.

“If she is able to locate and communicate with her wolf,” the witch replied calmly, “then she might be able to recreate the connection that binds them. But she will have to locate her wolf’s presence first.”

“So she’ll wake up and her wolf will be back to normal?” I asked.

The witch nodded. “If she locates her.”

I stared at Agnes for a moment longer, feeling uncomfortable about all of this. She still was hardly moving, even as the sage smoke wafted directly toward her nostrils.

Finally, when Agnes still hadn’t moved for some time, I’d had enough. “That’s enough,” I said, reaching for her. “I’m snapping her out of this and taking her home.”

The witch jumped up from her chair. “No, don’t—”

Just as my hand touched Agnes’s arm, something… strange and unexpected happened. She suddenly snapped her head upright, her eyes still rolled back. A cold phantom wind seemed to rush through the room out of nowhere, and she gripped my wrist, staring directly at me with those unseeing white eyes.

“You were my mate first,” she said in a voice that didn’t sound entirely like her own, but rather two voices at once—Agnes’s and another, breathier voice just beneath the surface. “You were mine, but she stole you from me.”

I jolted back out of instinct, my eyes widening. It was just like the dream I’d had all that time ago, the night I had heard Agnes’s voice saying the very same words. Agnes’s grip was like iron around my wrist now, stronger than I’d ever felt her before.

“Fool!” the witch hissed, rushing forward. She scooped a strange, grayish powder from the pouch at her hip and blew a pinch of it into Agnes’s face.

Agnes’s nose twitched, inhaling the powder. A moment later, her eyes rolled back to normal. She blinked, looking around dazedly.

“What happened?”

I let out a sigh of relief, involuntarily sinking down into the empty seat beside me. The witch bustled around, opening the windows and lighting candles while muttering under her breath.

“You shouldn’t have interrupted,” the witch told me, shooting me a withering glare over one shoulder.

Agnes looked at me. “Did something happen?”

“You went into hypnosis for a few minutes.” The witch frowned. “Did you connect with your wolf during that time?”

“No…” Agnes furrowed her brow. “Wait, what? Was I supposed to?”

“You should have at least felt her presence,” the witch explained, taking her seat again. “You felt nothing at all?”

Agnes shook her head. “I just remember…” She frowned, looking confused as she pushed her hair out of her face. “The room went cold, and I opened my eyes, and it was all… dark.” She glanced at me and added, “But then I blinked and now I’m here.”

The witch looked at me then, and there was a knowing expression in her eyes that made my stomach twist. “You were my mate first,” Agnes had said. Just like my dream.

I wondered if the witch might tell Agnes what she’d said during her state, but for some reason, she didn’t. Maybe she felt that I should be the one to tell her. Truthfully, though, I couldn’t bring myself to. Not yet. Not until I had enough time to think about it.

The dream all those nights ago was one thing—I’d chalked it up to nothing more than a strange embodiment of my conflicted feelings over Agnes and Olivia, but now I wasn’t so sure.

Agnes had said the words out loud, as if it were the surest thing she’d ever felt. It didn’t feel like just a dream anymore. It felt… real.

Was it possible that Agnes was supposed to be my mate? Had losing her wolf before we met caused Olivia to become my mate instead?

It seemed impossible, and yet I couldn’t deny what Agnes had said now. I wondered if that was why I’d had so many conflicting feelings between the two of them.

But even so, the witch had firmly told me before that everyone only got one mate. It wasn’t possible to have two, or to have a ‘replacement’, so to speak.

None of it made sense. I needed to think.

Finally, the witch turned and rustled around on a nearby table for a few minutes, grinding up some herbs and oils in a mortar and pestle as she muttered under her breath. When she was finished, she handed Agnes a small vial containing a murky green oil.

“Place one drop of this tincture beneath your tongue before bed every night,” the witch said as Agnes took the vial. “It might help you connect with your wolf in your dreams.”

“Might?” Agnes echoed, frowning. “Can’t we try the ritual again instead?”

The witch sighed. “I don’t think it’s safe. If you weren’t able to connect with your wolf during the ritual, then it seems the curse is far more powerful than I initially thought. In fact, I believe that whoever placed the curse on you to begin with may be consistently performing rituals to ensure that it remains potent.”

Agnes blinked. “That… makes sense,” she mused, glancing at me. “Sometimes, I swear I can feel my wolf’s presence, only for it to go away again within a moment.”

“Which is precisely why you should take that tincture,” the witch said with a nod. “If you can build a connection with her over time, you may be able to break through the curse. In the meantime, I suggest you try to figure out whoever is cursing you and put a stop to it.”

With that, the witch sent us on our way. I was more silent than I would have liked, too shaken from the entire experience to even think straight. I helped Agnes into the car, my hand brushing the small of her back as I guided her.

When I got in the car, Agnes turned to me. “Did I say or do anything… weird when I was unconscious?” she asked softly.

My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. I wanted to tell her, I really did. But I just… couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

I shook my head, putting the car in drive. “No,” I lied, my chest wrenching painfully with the word. “Nothing.”