WILLOW
I
waved my hand over the Tribunal room doors as we approached, the gears immediately turning to allow me entry. The room was
empty as we stepped inside, all signs of the carnage that had occurred the last time I’d set foot in the circular room erased.
I turned to Gray, taking in the disheveled state of his clothing. His shirt was torn where I’d stabbed him, the distinct slit of my blade as it had sank into his skin. His torso was covered in blood, and I knew if I touched his slacks, they would be crusty with dried blood.
My own black dress that I’d worn was stiff from his blood. My body felt abused, the space between my thighs sore from the way he’d fucked me.
I could still feel him inside me, the unfamiliar ache doing nothing to appease the need the elixir still caused.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, spinning in the center of the room.
Gray’s eyes darkened, reading between the lines of my words. I’d have much rather been in the privacy of our bedroom, specifically the shower.
Gray grabbed my arm, guiding me up to the throne of the Covenant on the dais. He sat me in it, staring down at me as if he genuinely appreciated the sight of me in a position of power. It was such a stark contrast to men like my father and Itan, who could not stand the thought of a woman being placed as their equal. “You’re going to summon the Coven,” he said, reaching down to cup my cheek. He ran his thumb over my bottom lip, tugging it away from my teeth and sinking the tip into my mouth.
A growl rumbled in my throat, making him tilt his head to the side with a smirk. “Dirty girl,” he said when I bit him, pulling his thumb back. He
sucked it into his own mouth to soothe the hurt, staring intently at me. The bastard knew exactly what kind of torture every moment was for me right now, that the idea of facing my Coven at this moment was horrific.
I could barely sit still.
“Why would I summon the Coven?” I asked finally as Gray leaned into my space. He grabbed my hand in his, maneuvering it to the arm so that I could rest my palm against the thorns. He pressed it down firmly, the thorn cutting through my flesh to the bone. A startled gasp of pain sounded from my parted lips.
He repeated it with my other hand, impaling me upon the thorns. My blood seeped into the bones and roses, centering me in my seat of power. Susannah and George hadn’t summoned the Coven, only ordered Tribunal members to join them. Under the rare circumstances they’d done it since I came to Crystal Hollow, they’d sent a messenger to collect people.
I hadn’t understood at the time. However as my blood swept down the vines and sank into the lines on the floor, I suddenly did.
They never had the ability to summon the Coven this way, being that they’d never been meant to take this seat.
It had been Charlotte’s by right.
Susannah and George merely occupied it in her absence, and they had no blood to spill.
The thorns pressed through the other side of my hand, sticking out between the bones on the back. I gritted my teeth through the pain, watching my blood travel into the circle at the center of the room. Each chair fed from the blood I provided, sending out a call until the room was filled with the magic of all my people.
Our people, I corrected myself. The witches were Gray’s creation just as much as the demons and Vessels were, something he’d done for selfish gain
—but done no less.
“We are summoning the Coven to show them their assassination attempt failed,” Gray said, making me turn my shocked stare up to him. “If they were under the assumption that you did not even attempt to do it in the first place, they will never pledge their loyalty to you.”
“So you think the solution is to make me look like a failure?” I asked, huffing in indignation. If I failed in my first task as Covenant, what did that say about my ability to lead?
“You did not fail. You did exactly what was asked of you, down to being able to stab me in the first place. Their plan failed, and they will pay for sending you to your death,” Gray explained, stepping out of the way. The gears of the Tribunal room moved in the distance as the first of the witches responded to my call. He moved to stand beside my throne, leaning his weight into the side of it with a cocky grin.
“You cannot punish them for what they attempted without giving me the same fate,” I said. It wasn’t fair that they should suffer when I didn’t, not when it had been me to deliver the blow.
“Watch me,” Gray growled, the warning in those words shocking me.
“Some of them are my friends,” I admitted, waiting for him to condemn them anyway. I could seemingly forgive him for most of his wrongs, believing they came from the right place. Nonetheless, if he killed Della and Nova, there would be no coming back for us.
“Which ones?” he asked, sighing in aggravation as a witch waited by the entrance. I didn’t recognize her, and she certainly kept her distance until more familiar faces arrived.
“Della, Nova, and…” I trailed off, knowing that the next name would infuriate him. I’d made it clear that I would not allow Iban to touch me again, and instead I’d schemed with him to kill my husband. I didn’t consider him a friend anymore, not in the same way I did Della and Nova, but I didn’t want him to die for his role either.
Fuck.
“Say it,” Gray said, staring down at me. He already knew the answer, knew the one name I would say that would give me pause.
“Iban. Iban was the one who found the dagger and the book,” I said, swallowing my nerves.
“So he was the one who knew you would die doing this?” Gray asked, his lethal words oddly calm. Cold washed over me as I thought of his warning to Gray before he’d tossed him over the stairs.
Someone will use me as his weakness.
“He wouldn’t,” I said, shaking my head in objection. “If he’d known, he would have just told me to kill myself, Gray. It doesn’t make sense.”
“That may be for now, but there’s nothing stopping him from putting the pieces together,” he argued, turning to face the group that stepped into the room. Our conversation was over being that there were enough witnesses who moved closer enough to hear us, as they filled the room slowly.
It was a steady stream from there, most of the Coven having come in their sleep clothes to obey my command. Della and Nova entered the room together, their gazes landing on my hands that were impaled by the throne.
I took the opportunity to raise them, pulling the thorns through my flesh without sparing a glance. The pain was agony, but as I stood, I forced my face into a stoic mask. Every eye in the room fell to my hands as gold light shimmered over the wound, healing them as I turned my attention to where Gray waited.
He pushed off the throne, stalking toward me and standing at my side. I didn’t miss the gasp at the sight of his blood-stained shirt, or the way those who had known about Iban’s plan glanced between us.
Shocked to see me breathing, I realized, swallowing down my distaste.
I’d let myself be manipulated again, so lost in the notion that it was my responsibility to fix what I’d done. I would never stop being a pawn until I started acting for myself, abandoning all thought of the goals of others and doing what was right.
I would do what was right for me from that point on.
Gray captured my chin with his fingers, turning my face to meet his eyes. Whatever he saw there made him nod, an approving smile tipping up the corners of his mouth. The expression nearly stole the breath from my lungs, far more intimate than anything he’d done to me in the privacy of our bedroom.
He wore his approval and pride openly on his face, leaving no question for anyone watching our exchange that he’d forgiven me for what I’d done.
“We tried it your way,” Gray said, looking through the gathered Coven. “You sent my wife to do what you were too afraid to attempt on your own. As you can see, she was vicious enough to stab me.” He chuckled as he said the words.
I hadn’t just stabbed him. I’d twisted the blade in his heart, determined to shred it into pieces that would never heal.
I blanched at the recent memory, the feeling of his blood soaking my hands and mixing with my own blood that dried on my skin as he spoke. When I was a child, all I wanted was a peaceful life in a home by the woods, surrounded by gardens like my mother’s.
This could be my home, but I knew I would see it drenched in the blood of those who opposed me long before I had the peace I wanted.
“Yet here you stand,” the purple witch said as she stepped forward. Her eyes glimmered like stars, a warning in her gaze as she was bold enough to speak. Identifying herself as one of those Gray would see as a traitor, even knowing what the consequences would be. “And she is alive and well.”
“Of course she is,” Gray said, his words spoken through clenched teeth. His lips peeled back as he continued, the brutality in that expression making the purple witch recoil slightly. “She is my wife, and just because you were so willing to sacrifice her for your own foolishness, does not mean I am.”
“She knew what she was risking,” the purple witch said, raising her chin as she turned her eyes to me. She waited for me to speak, for me to save her from the fate that would be waiting for her. I couldn’t intercede on her behalf. Not when I, too, had started to question how much I wanted to give to protect someone who would willingly send me to my death.
If the roles had been reversed, I would not have been so quick to allow someone to die for the greater good. I didn’t have that in me.
We were not the same.
“I did,” I agreed, clasping my hands together in front of me. “That doesn’t mean it should have ever been asked of me.”
She scoffed, looking at Iban where he lingered in the middle of the group. He stepped forward, wringing his hands and stopping at an appropriate distance with only a glare from Gray. His brown eyes peered up at me on the dais, his expression pleading.
Except, for the first time, as I looked at him, I didn’t see the friend I’d thought would have my back. I saw someone who had seen my weakness and the walls around me, playing them against me to achieve what he thought this coven needed.
“We’ve had centuries of conflict between the witches and the Vessels,” I said, speaking not to Iban but to the entire Coven. He opened his mouth as if he might interrupt me, but I silenced him by holding out a hand. “Have you not had enough?”
“What would you know of our centuries of strife?” an older white witch asked. “You’ve been here for five minutes and endured only one Reaping. You know nothing of our history.”
“You’re right,” I admitted, nodding my head. “I did not grow up here. I have not spent my lifetime immersed in hatred the way that you have, but I was raised to come here and destroy the Vessels, regardless of the cost. If I am willing to set that aside for peace, why aren’t you?”
“Because I’m not fucking the bastard who is responsible for it!” she yelled, resulting in a murmur of agreement.
“That bastard is also responsible for you having magic in the first place,” I said, taking a step down the dais. I approached her, stopping before her and leaning into her face. “Perhaps you’d prefer he take it back.”
She blanched at that, the same way any of the witches would have when faced with the thought of not having their magic. Somewhere along the line, it had become who we were, the only way we identified ourselves.
There was more to us than the magic in our veins.
Gray stood beside me, allowing me to interact with the Coven and their rebellions. I had more appreciation for him in those moments than ever before, in his willingness to step aside and let me fight my own battles. If I were indeed to replace the Covenant, they would not gain respect for me by him interfering at every turn.
I didn’t miss the archdemons making their way into the back of the room, lurking quietly in preparation for the moment when Gray had to deal with his penance himself. Just as he hadn’t interfered now, I would step back and allow him to do what was necessary for his people.
Even if it meant punishing those who had once stood with me and sacrificed me like a lamb.
Juliet moved through the crowd, reaching Della and Nova and grabbing them each with a calm hand. She led them from the room while they glanced back at me, and I sighed in contentment. At least they were safe, spared from what was to come due to Gray’s unwillingness to make me hate him all over again.
“You don’t deserve to fill the Covenant’s shoes,” the purple witch said, the sneer of disgust on her face one that I would have hated to see at one point.
Now, it only filled me with resolve as I pinned her with a glare. “The Covenant didn’t wear shoes, so I find it difficult to imagine I cannot fill them,” I said, thinking of how their bones had clacked against the floor with every step. Gray snorted from the dais, the sound warming my soul. “But if the legacy they left behind was the destruction of the very magic that we claim to love, that’s not a legacy I want any part of.”
“Sweetheart, this Coven has operated on tradition for centuries,” Iban said, glancing around the room when Gray growled a warning at Iban’s unwanted endearment.
“Has it?” I asked, furrowing my brow. “Centuries of tradition demanded blood magic and sacrifice to give back what we took from the Source. This Coven lost its way decades ago, and I will see it returned to what it should have been.”
“That’s all well and good, but you cannot expect them to approve of you if you stand with him at your side!” Iban said, his voice raising as he stared at me. He looked more like his uncle in those moments than he ever had, the contortion of his features in anger making him look cruel and spiteful.
“I don’t need their approval, though I expect it will come in time,” I said, taking a few steps up the dais. I took my seat, perching on the throne as I stared at Iban. “Why don’t we discuss what is really driving your anger, Iban? Jealousy doesn’t look good on you.”
He pursed his lips, glancing to his side as attention turned to him. “You can claim whatever you want, but the good of the Coven should come first. Allying yourself with him is fine. However, he can never do the one thing you must do for the sake of the Source. You cannot allow your lines to end with you, and he can never give you children!”
I cringed with the whiplash the change of conversation gave me, fully acknowledging that his desperation made him grasp at any straws he could grasp. I’d considered it briefly once upon a time, but no matter what he thought my obligation was to my Coven, I didn’t want kids right now. That was a tomorrow problem, for a woman who wasn’t sure she’d even live that long.
“Can’t I?” Gray asked, making everything in me still. I forced myself not to look at him, focusing on my breathing and keeping my face a blank mask. I couldn’t allow my thoughts to show on my face, not when those watching me were looking for cracks in our marriage.
“Vessels cannot sire children,” Iban said, but his voice was far less sure as I turned to look at Gray’s arrogant face.
My husband smiled as Iban blanched, the reality of the situation that hadn’t occurred to any of us. We knew next to nothing of Lucifer the Morningstar, and even less of the archdemons he’d brought with him. “Ah, but we both know I am no Vessel,” he said simply.
Everything in me froze, even as I forced my expression into one of indifference. I swallowed, trying not to think about how many times we’d had sex. I’d taken the tonic to prevent childbirth monthly, keeping my period at bay for as long as I could remember.
I was safe.
But I didn’t know if my husband knew that. I didn’t know if he was aware of the steps I’d taken to prevent pregnancy in the event that a man took what I didn’t offer. My world was harsh and brutal, and I hadn’t known what situations I may find myself in once I came to the Coven.
I’d never been more appreciative than now for my paranoia.
“Would the child be a witch? Or Nephilim?” one of the Devoes asked, stepping forward to ask a question. He was calm, collecting the information as his brain worked through the options at our disposal. “A Nephilim child would not continue the legacy of our founding houses.”
“There’s no way to know for sure,” Gray answered, returning the man’s calm, collected attitude. “But I am also the only being alive who can create new witches. I can merely bestow the power of a Green and a Black to mortals of my choosing should Willow and I’s children prove to be too powerful to fill the role.”
I held in my startled gasp, hating that we sat negotiating with the potential of children I didn’t even know if I wanted. I kept quiet, trusting that Gray knew what he was doing. I would argue with him later, when the prying eyes of the Coven were no longer scrutinizing every move we made. “And what would you expect in return for such a bargain?” the Devoe
asked, quirking his brow.
“The Coven will embrace Willow as they promised the night you bowed to her, and when the time is right, she will open the seal permanently and allow our people to come and go between our lands as they please,” Gray said, and I barely stopped my sigh of hurt.
Another motivation, another goal that we hadn’t discussed. “We’ll discuss it privately,” the Devoe said, lifting his chin.
“I would expect nothing less,” Gray said, coming to my side. He took my hand, lifting it to his mouth to press a soft kiss to the back of my hand. It soothed my hurt for the moment, allowing me to push through this show so that I could tear his throat out in private, if I so pleased.
“You cannot be okay with this,” Iban said, forcing me to turn my attention back to him. “The girl I knew would never allow—”
“The girl you thought you knew did not exist,” I said, my voice soft as I delivered words I knew would hurt. It was my own fault that Iban had twisted our relationship into more than it was. I’d used him to make Gray jealous and allowed him to kiss me when I’d known my heart belonged to
another. “Because she was something you created in your mind. The real Willow does not live for your approval or make choices based on what you may think of them. Accept this or don’t,” I added, crossing my legs and settling into my chair fully. “You and I are done either way.”
Iban sighed, his shoulders dropping as he stared at me. I hoped he would have the sense to walk away, to realize that a public forum like this was not the place for us to hash out the details if we wanted to preserve any semblance of a friendship. “I’m disappointed in you,” he said, shaking his head.
The petty part of me couldn’t let him have the last word, not when it could make me look weak when I needed to look strong. “Then call me your queen of disappointment, and I’ll add that to the list of things I don’t give a fuck about,” I snapped, immediately regretting the harsh words. I just wanted to return to our bedroom, shower, and take care of the much more pressing urge than Iban’s wounded ego.
“Enough. Name your co-conspirators,” Gray said, stepping up to me. His eyes bore down into mine, the command in that gaze forcing me to shove away my thoughts of remorse. Gray had seen it rising in me, I realized, stopping me from taking back the harsh reprimand that I suspected Iban and I both needed.
I was no longer his equal in the eyes of the Coven, and he needed to learn to respect the new boundaries of our friendship if we were to have one.
“I don’t know their names,” I admitted, even as my eyes wandered over each one of them.
So many people I was responsible for, and I couldn’t even name them as I sent them to their deaths.
I closed my eyes when Gray steered his attention to the person I’d isolated as the leader of the charge. “Then you will,” he said, nodding his head.
Beelzebub and Leviathan moved, pushing through the crowd to take one of Iban’s arms in their grip. They lifted him off his feet, carrying him out through the Tribunal room doors as Gray followed them. He turned at the last moment, his gaze coming to mine with an order that I would obey, even if it took everything in me not to challenge him.
I would demand the exact retribution if one of his own wronged the witches.
“Nobody leaves until I have the answers I need.”
