CHAPTER 45

JARETT'S POV

I drove like my life depended on it. Because hers did.

Three hours to the county line. The GPS died at mile marker 41, right where the cell towers stop and the road turns to dirt.

After that the trees grew wrong. Too tall. Too close together. Their branches made a tunnel overhead and blocked out the moon. Werewolf and witch magic don’t mix. You could feel it in the air. A pressure behind your eyes, like the world was holding its breath.

That’s why we haven’t spoken in 200 years.

That’s why what I was doing could get me exiled.

I kept thinking about Helena in that hospital bed.

I couldn’t let her miss the game because of me.

The cottage came into view just past midnight. I saw Maren was on the porch waiting like she knew exactly when I’d get there.

“You’re desperate,” she said. She didn’t sound surprised.

“I need a healing potion for someone who is seriously I'll.,” I said. “I want her to be on her feet in 48 hours. We have a game coming up. The home opener is everything.”

Maren studied me. “You’d break a treaty for a hockey game?”

“I'll do anything for her,” I said.

Her mouth twitched but it wasn't quite a smile. “Come in, Jarett. Before the wards decide you’re a threat.”

I followed her inside the house. The entire place smelled like copper and rosemary and something burnt.

There were shelves lined every wall. Jars were filled with things floating in them. There were dried herbs hanging from the ceiling and a kettle was already on the stove, even though I hadn’t called ahead.

She moved like she’d done this a thousand times.

She pulled a black glass vial from a shelf. It glowed faintly, like there was a tiny storm trapped inside.

“One dose,” Maren said. “It’ll mend her bones and clear up her concussion. She’ll walk out of that hospital tonight.”

I reached for it then she pulled it back. “But it’s not free.” she said.

“Name it.” I said.

“A blood oath,” she said. “For one year. I call, you come and perform any task I give to you with no questions asked.”

My wolf snarled behind my ribs. One year?!

That was how these things started. Favors turned into chains. The Council would call it treason the second they found out. I’d be lucky to get exile instead of execution.

I pictured Helena and the pain she was currently in.

“Deal,” I said.

Maren nodded once. She took a small silver knife from the counter and grabbed my hand before I could pull away and cut across my palm.

It burned, my blood dripped into the vial. The glow inside flared brighter, then settled.

She started chanting slowly in a language I didn’t know.

The air went cold, my breath became fogged. The candles on the shelves flickered out one by one until only the vial was giving light.

When she finished, she handed me another vial with clear liquid this time.

“Drink this first,” she said. “Or the healing tonic will burn you when you carry it. The magic is volatile. It’ll eat through skin, bone, whatever’s in the way. This will shield you. Get it to her before midnight. After that it turns to poison.”

I didn’t hesitate. I downed it. It tasted like lightning, and then it was gone, leaving my tongue numb.

Maren wrapped my cut hand in a strip of cloth. Her fingers were cold. “The Council has seers,” she said quietly. “They’ll feel this. Not tonight but soon.”

“I know.” I said to her,

“If they catch you,” she said as I turned to leave, “I’m not the one they’ll kill first.”

I didn't wait to say anything else. I ran.

The drive back was worse than the drive there. The shield vial sat in the cupholder, and the black vial sat next to it, humming.

Every ten minutes I checked it. It was still glowing, it hadn't turned into poison yet. glowing.

The thin black lines started on my palm first like ink spreading under my skin.

By the time I hit the highway they were up to my wrist. It was Maren’s magic, the price for carrying the tonic. It itched and burned at the same time.

I gripped the wheel harder. 2:14 AM. If I drove straight I’d make it to the hospital by 3:30. That gave Helena time to recover before the bus.

I thought about what I’d just promised. One year of doing any task at all. I could already imagine Maren calling at off hours at night.

The wolf in me hated it. Wolves are pack. Oaths are to the pack not to witches. If my father found out he’d disown me. If the alpha found out I’d be lucky to leave town with my life.

But then I thought about Helena’s face when she realized she couldn’t coach. The way she hid it. The way she always puts the team first even when she’s broken.

I’d do it again.

I pulled into the hospital lot at 3:22. The sky was still dark. I sat in the car for a minute, looking at my hand. The black veins had reached my elbow. I shoved the sleeve down.

The hospital was too quiet. Nurses at the desk barely looked up. I took the stairs two at a time to the fourth floor.

I knocked once, then used the key card I’d swiped from the nurse earlier.

Helena was awake and sitting up. Her hair was pulled back.

She looked small in that bed, but her eyes were waiting.

The moment she saw the vial in my hand she knew.

“Don’t ask me anything,” I said before she could. “Just drink it.”

“What is it?” she asked either way.

“It's a healing potion,” I said. “From Maren.”

She stared at it. “Witches and werewolves haven’t spoken in 200 years. She said the Council would call it treason.”

“I know,” I said. I set it on the bedside table. My hand was shaking. I hid it in my pocket. “Drink it, Helena.”

She picked it up and studied it. “What’s the cost?”

“Nothing you need to worry about,” I lied. "Just drink up." I said and she drank it.