Chapter 3 - Nyx

I’m so caught up in my discovery of where the Red One, Roweena, and Iona are that I completely forget to be nervous about driving. Brandon and Zak have been very patient while teaching me over the past few months, but driving still feels unnatural—especially alone, in a new place.

Somehow, the road is empty. No traffic. No pedestrians. No distractions. I don’t know how I got so lucky, but weirdly, it’s not even at the top of my “let’s-panic-about-this” list.

All I really know about Ios is that it’s a party island along the Greek coast. So why in the actual hell would Loviatar, a goddess, keep the Riding Hoods there? And why would she want anything to do with them? Compared to the gods and goddesses of this world, the Riding Hoods are nothing. Oh, they want to be something. And if they’d succeeded in turning me into the most powerful witch of all time, maybe we could’ve clawed our way into the room—but we’d never have had a seat at the table.

I can’t figure out what Loviatar gains from taking the last three Riding Hoods under her wing.

These thoughts are swirling in my head as I speed down the main road from Bella’s house to the conference center.

I brake hard—screeching to a stop right in front of the building. I don’t bother parking properly. I just kill the engine, jump out, and sprint inside.

There’s only one set of double doors in front of me, so I go through them without hesitation.

Inside, there must be close to a hundred people—alphas, lunas, their mates, and the leaders of every major supernatural faction. But the first person I really see is Kayla. My adopted mother. The only mother I’ve ever truly known. And it’s to her I scream:

“I know where they are! I know exactly where they are!”

She looks confused, probably wondering what the hell I’m talking about. I’m about to explain, but then I hear it—a low, rumbling growl to my left.

I turn—and I see him.

The most beautiful male I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Okay, I haven’t seen that many men—thank you, cult upbringing—but still. Holy shit.

He’s tall, with thick brown hair, broad shoulders, a strong jaw, a cleft chin, and eyes so dark blue they’ve swallowed the whites whole. Full wolf mode. It should scare me, given how I was raised and what I’ve seen.

But it doesn’t.

It just makes him hotter.

I feel drawn to him—like I’m drowning in those eyes. Like I want to climb into his skin and stay there.

Then he speaks.

“Mate!”

Oh hell no.

Nope. Nope. Nope. This is not what I signed up for. I’ve barely dipped my toes into real life, and now I’m supposed to bond myself forever to someone I’ve never even spoken to?

I haven’t even had my first kiss, let alone a relationship. And now this? A mate?

Also, can we talk about how creepy it is that some goddess I don’t even worship picks my forever partner for me? Why should I let anyone—anyone—decide who I’m going to love?

I’ve had every part of my life chosen for me until now. I’m not about to let someone else choose this too.

I hear Devin say something like “This isn’t good,” right before Zak, Brandon, and Kayla suddenly throw themselves between me and tall-dark-and-feral. Apparently, he lunged at me—because of course he did. His expression is a twisted mess of anger and desire, like he wants to devour me and destroy me at the same time.

Why? I’ve never even met him. What the hell did I do?

“Nathan! Back off!” Brandon snarls.

Zak’s bracing both hands against the guy’s chest, holding him back. Kayla positions herself in front of me protectively.

“Is she the Riding Hood?” the guy yells. “The goddess mated me to a fucking Riding Hood?!”

The hate. The disgust. The fury in those words.

How is it possible that what he feels for me already hurts so much?

I don’t even feel the full weight of the mate bond, but there’s still something—a tug, a pull. A need for him to see me. To want me. So when he throws that venom in my face... it stings.

So I throw it right back.

With all the sarcasm and pain I can muster, I snap, “Down, boy. I’m a witch of Hecate. Not a Riding Hood. And this mate thing? I don’t want it either.”

He growls. “What’s your name?”

“Nyx Laurent,” I say, standing tall.

“I, Nathan Lee Swift of the Moon Goddess Pack, reject you, Nyx Laurent, as my mate.”

The pain hits, sharp but brief. Pride stings more. I expected worse.

“Cool. Whatever,” I say, rolling my eyes. “I accept your rejection.”

I turn and walk toward Devin like none of this happened. There’s bigger shit to deal with.

But apparently, my acceptance hurts him a hell of a lot more than his rejection hurt me. A howl of pain erupts from him, and he crumples to the floor.

Huh. Guess that’s what rejection feels like to someone who did feel the bond.

“Tomas! Jai! Get him out of here,” Devin commands, clearly pissed. “We’ll catch you up later.”

I flinch. Please don’t let him be mad at me. I didn’t mean to interrupt the meeting—it’s just... this information is important. Really important.

While two wolves drag my ex-mate out, two older wolves approach. The she-wolf looks just like Nathan. His mother.

Shit. Freedom was fun while it lasted.

But Kayla backs down, so... maybe I won’t get my throat ripped out.

The she-wolf grabs my hand gently, eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry about Nathan. I didn’t think... I’m just sorry.”

Awkward. Is there anything more mortifying than someone’s mom apologizing for them?

I swallow the embarrassment and just nod. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” says the male with her, “but thank you for saying that.” He guides her out of the room.

As the doors shut, Kayla, Zak, and Brandon immediately turn to me.

“Are you okay?”

“He’s lucky I didn’t bitch-slap him.”

“Who the fuck does he think he is?!”

Their voices all come at once, too fast for my overloaded brain. I throw up my hands. “Guys! Guys! I’m good. Seriously. I know rejections suck for wolves, but I’m not a wolf. I’m fine.”

And then I drop the bomb.

“Anyway, I know where the remaining Riding Hoods are. They’re on the Greek island of Ios.”

The room goes dead silent.

Then, absolute chaos.

Until Devin lets out a shrill whistle that cuts through the noise like a blade.

“Enough!” he barks. “Everyone shut up. Except you, Nyx. Explain.”

So I do. I tell them about the astral plane. About the friend in London who helped me scry. About how she didn’t even know who I was or where I was, which caused a little suspicion at first. But once I verified who she was—her coven, her alignment under the Mother—they backed off.

I explain the ritual. How I used it. How I saw the Red One, Roweena, and Iona.

“Can we replicate it?” Bhakti asks—always the pragmatist.

“Definitely,” I say. “Any witch who knows the ritual can do it. They just need a little of my blood and a basic idea of who they’re looking for. Doesn’t even need to be a picture.”

“What do you need?” Devin asks.

I give him a list. He stares off into space—probably mindlinking someone.

A few minutes later, a she-wolf I don’t recognize walks in, carrying everything I need. She smells faintly of the same soap Nathan used.

She’s accompanied by Allegra, Priestess of Nora’s Crone coven.

“Thank you, Grey,” Devin says.

She nods, then looks at me—pity in her eyes. Like she wants to say something, but thinks better of it. She shakes her head and walks away.

Before I can ask what that was about, Devin turns to me.

“I need you to give Allegra some of your blood. She’ll replicate the scrying, confirm your findings, and then we move.”