Changer (verb) to change; to alter

The ritual took shape around me.

Chanting. Swaying. Words shouted into the howling wind. Beasts snarling and snapping and hooting.

I, an outsider to the ways of the darkness, watched it all unfold, unsettled by the things I saw and heard.

And the one person who vowed to keep me safe—my protector, my mate—stood in the center of it all.

I was alone. And frightened. And unsure of what all this meant.

Bastien told me he was coming to this funeral to pay his respects, but that was never his sole intention. He knew he was supporting these witches as they passed on their twisted black art to another--and kept it from me.

Why? Why bring me here?

There had to be more than not wanting to leave me alone at Chateau Rose because, at least there, I was protected.

Bastien claimed to be a man of responsibility who was obligated by whatever code of honor vampires kept to follow the letter of the law, but was this truly his duty as a vampire prince?

I knew the answer was no. It was not. I'd never seen a vampire at my family's estate helping to prepare the crystals for a ceremony.

Then why come? It didn't make sense.

I pondered every possible reason with my arms hugged to my chest, shivering cold, watching as Bastien entered the casting circle to join Hera and the giant spider sitting on her shoulder.

The witch was beautiful in a terrifying way, with her long, pointed black nails, and blood red lips. More than a prickle of jealousy raced through me when they clasped hands.

Bastien glanced down at her and gave a nod. She smiled up at him with a wicked grin I was confident I could never replicate.

I hated all of this. Everything. Every second. The witches and this ritual and the whiskey tea. They were all reminders that I didn't fit in anywhere. Not with Bastien and his beloved dark witches and not with my family.

Even though a part of me, the dark part that Bastien had awoken with his kisses and his hands and his whispered promises, had hoped I could fit in with him.

Clearly, there were things about the vampire prince I didn't know, like who he was before he became a vampire prince of the House Allard.

The vision he showed me made me believe he wasn't born a vampire, like his niece and nephew but was made into one through a blood-drinking ritual.

What was I missing?

I clapped a hand over my mouth as I realized the truth.

Bastien was a witch—a dark witch. He must've been.

It was the only thing that made sense.

As a vampire, he didn't seek to balance the forces of light and dark magick, only to tip the scales in the wrong direction. That's why he loved these witches who would gleefully kill me and my family so much.

I'd always had the sense that Bastien knew more about me than he'd let on. He couldn't read my mind, but I wondered if he'd discovered who I was.

If he had, what did that mean? Was he planning on punishing me for what happened to the woman lying dead?

I swallowed hard as the thought curdled in my stomach.

"We invoke the powers granted to us by the God of the Underworld to send our beloved's magick into the body of the worthiest witch in our presence!" shouted Hera, raising her and Bastien's clasped hands into the air. Her eyes glowing a demonic red.

I held my breath as Bastien's pale blue eyes caught fire and began to glow like sunlight on a frozen pond.

My hands were trembling, but this time, not from the cold. I was right. Duty had brought him here. Duty to his people.

My enemies.

I narrowed my eyes, frustrated at myself for being so gullible. Mama had told me I wasn't very smart, and this was proof she was right. A few sweet kisses and a burning need between my thighs had me dropping my guard around a vampire. A vampire.

Angry tears pricked in the corners of my eyes.

Worse, I had no weapons. No magick. No coven. No means to defend myself.

Nothing except my desire to keep my sister safe from all of this. To prevent her from being just another skeleton in our family graveyard.

But what was I going to do?

I wasn't sure.

I wished I was stronger. I wished I was born the witch my mother was. Strong enough to lead the coven instead of letting all this fall into Seraphina's lap.

Beautiful, reckless Sera. So full of life and talent. She deserved every good thing in the world.

If only I had power, I'd be able to put an end to this for good. I'd destroy the relics and...kill Bastien.

Sadness wrapped around my heart at the thought of killing Bastien, and the bloodstone around my neck warmed against my skin. Throbbing like a thunderous heartbeat.

As much as I hated it, a part of me didn't want him dead. A part of me wanted to be treated like something precious to him. To feel and be adored.

To be loved by someone.

But that part was small and needed to be killed right alongside him.

I might be Bastien's mate, but he was only keeping me in his castle out of duty and the carnal need to protect me, not out of anything more than that. I could see that now.

His people would always be these dark witches. I'd never be able to convince him otherwise. Not when he was participating in some sacred ritual with them.

Feeling lost, alone, and so so stupid, I backed up a pace, and then another, needing space and time to think.

Running wasn't an option. It was too cold, and Bastien would only catch me. Fighting wasn't an option either. I wasn't strong enough to take on an entire coven of dark witches and a vampire.

"Hear our plea, great shadow spirit!" shouted Hera. "Give us the strength to fight back against the threat that plagues our people!"

She meant...my people. My family.

I needed to act. I had to come up with a plan that wouldn't blow up in my face like the others that I'd hatched.

What would my mother do? What would Sera do?

They'd be brave and strong and think of something so clever no one would see it coming.

But what could that thing be? I wasn't sure.

Feeling defeated, I glanced around the graveyard, looking for some kind of sign pointing me in the right direction, but...there was nothing.

How could hope exist in this dark place?

I heard a deep, low growl from behind the casting circle, and found those same strange yellow eyes peering at me through the darkness.

Something had me in its sights.

"Show yourself," I whispered. No one around me noticed because they were too engulfed in the tide of magick swirling around the circle.

The eyes blinked, and then the creature padded forward. Torchlight illuminated it for what it was—a massive grey wolf. It's shaggy grey fur wet from the snow.

I should have been scared of the beast, but nothing in me told me to run. Instinctively, I knew it only wanted to gain my attention.

The wolf was said to be the Moon Goddess's sacred companion and told her secrets when it howled each night.

Do you have secrets to tell me? I wondered. Has Diana sent you?

I could only hope so.

But if the wolf could hear my thoughts, it didn't move.

Perhaps this is my test of bravery. If I wanted to know what the wolf knew, I had to approach it.

So, gathering my wits, I crept toward the circle. As I did, I tried not to focus on Bastien, the dark witch Hera, or the dead body contained within the circle, but it was impossible.

Bastien's presence called to me. Just like it had on the first night I met him.

My gaze was drawn to him, just like it always was. But unlike other times, his eyes didn't lock with mine because he was busy with Hera's spell. Dark magick swirled around the two of them, popping and hissing, while the cold wind blew the sweet smell of magick through the bare trees.

I forced myself to look away.

I needed to stay focused on my mission.

And the four objects placed on flat stones around the circle.

These must be the demonic relics—objects once owned by a demon or imbibed with demonic power. The dark witches channeled demonic energy to cull their unnatural power.

I thought the relics would be huge statues, or disturbing to look at, but as far as I could tell, they were just ordinary objects.

A curved horn of a sheep. A piece of snowflake obsidian. A wilted wild rose. And a feather that looked like it once belonged to a goose.

Anger had my fists curling into balls at my side.

So many of my family members died trying to destroy these stupid little trinkets that a child might collect on a walk through a pasture?

It made me even more angry at how foolish this was and strengthened my resolve to end this war between darkness and light.

I glanced up at the moon for guidance.

Please, Diana. Give me the strength to be better. To protect my family.

The chanting of the witches was deafening. Louder. Faster. The ritual was coming to an end, and someone was going to receive new powers. I could feel it.

If Diana heard my plea for help, she wasn't answering.

What I wanted to do was destroy a relic to avenge Gran's death. Take some of their power for hurting my family. My mother wouldn't have attacked unless there was cause. These witches must've struck first.

But how did I do that without magick?

The wolf.

I took a few more tentative steps toward the beast, holding my hands out in front of my face to block the wind from kicking up dirt into my eyes.

Without warning, a brilliant light filled the graveyard, like a star had fallen from the sky, and a warmth flooded my veins.

The last thing I remembered was the sound of my name being shouted as I fell headlong against a gravestone, before everything went black.

Dear amazing readers,

I'm so sorry for this cliffhanger! 

xx,

AJ