99. Trance
Seff knew he was right. As if these damn pieces of paper weren’t a disaster already!
But they were in her arms; the last legacy of her family who she didn’t even know was a *founding* family of the Magnolia over one hundred years ago. Founding families of packs weren’t treated like royalty, but they were as good as, respected by the rest of the werewolves, and often behind important matters regarding their pack.
Linden Amaranth-Bleize had concealed the secret of the Amaranth bloodline —or they destroyed themselves with the weight of fear so much it was at its extinction—to keep Seff from bearing the responsibility of being the third reincarnation.
It was the forbidden fruit, temptation at its finest.
“Seff,” came Hawthorn’s warning tone at the edges of her hearing. “What do you want to do—where do you want to go—after Hyacinth’s trial?”
He was trying to distract her from the growing lust of doing what she promised she wouldn’t.
“We could go visit all those places in Alli’s magazines, the ones in the pictures,” he suggested. “Or just travel to see other packs. We could visit my cousin in the Winter pack! You’ll really like her. Or we could just live in the middle of some godsdamned forest like real wolves. Whatever you want…I’ll want too.”
The love and desperation in Hawthorn’s voice cleared the fog in Seff’s mind like a knife. She shook her head and stared at him, that dread in her stomach weighing her down. “Oh gods,” she breathed in horror, fingers starting to tremble. “These—this has to be cursed or something. I… Hawthorn…”
He approached her slowly, lest she snap again. She hated that she made him suddenly afraid of her. “Take them,” pleaded. “You’re right, they’re dangerous—”
Seff watched it all happen as if in a heightened sense of vision: her arms outstretching the small chest for Hawthorn’s hands to take as he closed the little space between them. There was a tiny corner of an ancient piece of paper peeking out under the lid of the white birch box—and she watched nothing except her fingertip brush it.
And it was like touching space itself.
In Selene’s spring pool, Seff now knew she had been on the verge of remembering Calla’s memories—that jolting sensation of deja vu, the visions, the echoing words, *My greatest love, my moonflower. Only for you*.
But it wasn’t Calla that Seff felt channeling through her very soul.
Zinnia Amaranth was storming Seff’s consciousness like a werewolf changing through a front line and then—
And then Seff Bleize was suddenly no longer.
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