Chapter 5

Theo knocked on my door at seven the next morning, carrying a tray.

Tea, a little jar of honey, a slice of toast. He'd even folded the napkin into a triangle.

"Peace offering, part two," he said with a grin. "Drink it while it's hot, okay?"

"Thank you, Theo." I smiled back. "That's really sweet."

As soon as his footsteps faded down the stairs, I took an empty sample vial from my work bag, filled it with tea, and capped it tight. The rest went down the bathroom sink.

Then I went downstairs.

I took the steps slowly, clinging to the railing with both hands like the floor was tilting under me.

Jaxon was in the front hall, pulling on his jacket. When he saw me, he hurried over, his face full of worry. "Hazel? What's wrong?"

"I don't know." I pressed a hand to my forehead. "I'm so dizzy. My wolf feels far away. I can barely reach her."

Over his shoulder, Theo leaned in the kitchen doorway. He was trying not to smile. He wasn't trying very hard.

"You've been giving it so much," Jaxon said quickly. He couldn't hide how happy he was. It was all over his eyes. "You need to rest. Go back to bed. I'll take care of everything today."

"Thank you," I whispered.

I went back up and locked the bedroom door.

The second the lock clicked, I stood up straight.

The bud was pulsing on the nightstand, fast and eager. It could feel my wolf hiding deep down. It thought the nightshade had worked and breakfast was finally ready.

Too bad. The kitchen was closed.

I pulled on a pair of gardening gloves and lifted the whole thing out of the glass box, bud and roots and soil. I set it in the iron box I used for silver supplies at the clinic and shut the lid.

Right away, the link went muffled, like someone had thrown a blanket over it.

I put the box in my backpack along with a few other things. Then I slipped down the old servants' stairs behind the laundry room and out the back door.

Nobody saw me. Nobody used those stairs anymore.

I cut through the woods behind the packhouse and kept walking until the ground went soft and wet under my boots. Past our border markers. Into the Hollow.

Pack wolves didn't go into the Hollow. It was all swamp and dead trees, and the air always smelled like rotting leaves. It was also where Old Moira lived.

Her shack stood on stilts over the black water. She was tiny and hunched, with milky eyes and a cardigan full of holes. People in the pack said she was a witch who sold curses. They were right. She also sold the best rare herbs in three territories, and I'd been buying from her for the clinic for years.

In my last life, Jaxon said her name while he held my sister. Moira swore Hazel's blood would bring you back.

So I knew exactly whose door to knock on.

"Well, well," Moira croaked when she opened the door. "The little healer. And you brought me something that smells like grave dirt and roses."

I set the iron box on her kitchen table. Next to it, I put a pouch of dried silverleaf and a fat envelope of cash.

"You know what this is," I said.

She lifted the lid an inch and peeked inside. Her face didn't change. "That boy's flower. I sold him the seed four years ago."

"You helped him bring my sister back by feeding her me."

"I sold a seed." She shrugged one bony shoulder. "I never promised anybody a happy ending."

Through the iron, I could feel Scarlett starting to panic. She'd figured out this wasn't the plan.

Moira tapped the envelope with one crooked finger. "So. What do you want me to do with her? Burn her?"

"No," I said. "That's too easy."

I leaned across the table.

"I want her sealed. Shut tight. She never blooms. She never dies. She just stays in there, awake, forever."

Moira studied me for a long moment with those cloudy eyes. Then she started to laugh, a dry, wheezing laugh that turned into a cough.

"Oh, honey," she said. "I like you."

In my head, Scarlett started screaming.

No! You can't do this! Jaxon will kill you! He'll tear you apart!

My phone buzzed on the table.

The screen lit up with one name. Jaxon.