This Coven Won't Break - Isabel Sterling Page 0,100

their hand. I bet she wanted to use my death to rally the Clans together.”

Lightning flashes above us, and the thunder comes less than a second behind. The storm is directly above us now.

“It’s more complicated than that, Hannah.”

I whirl around and find Elder Keating standing beneath a wide umbrella, her clothes completely dry while we’re soaked through.

“Stay away from us.”

Elder Keating shakes her head. “We want the same things. Your friend only knew about your magic for a couple months. I’ve been dreaming of a world where we could live openly for longer than you’ve been alive. We can still make that happen.”

“You can’t make that decision for everyone.” I step forward, blocking Morgan from the Elder’s attentions. “You can’t murder witches to get your way.”

“I already told you. It’s more complicated than that. We’re already losing witches. For decades, I’ve stripped witches of their magic for doing what you did with your friend. It has to stop. Sacrifices had to be made.”

A small part of me feels the pull of her words like a siren’s call. I think of Gemma knowing all of who I am. I think of assholes like Nolan finally knowing that they should be afraid of me, not the other way around. But then I think of David’s lifeless face. I think of Sarah and Archer without their magic, and I reach for my own power.

“How long?” I ask, threading my magic through the storm, grabbing hold of the water so I can bend it to my will. “How long have you been helping the Hunters?”

Elder Keating smirks. “I’ve been guiding the Hunters since before you were born. For decades, I’ve tried to nudge the Council in the right direction.” Frustration streaks across her features. “They refuse to be led into the future.”

The temperature plummets around us. The rain turns to ice as it falls. It pings uselessly against the Elder’s umbrella. “And when, exactly, did you decide you were willing to kill us?”

“It’s interesting, really, how it all comes full circle.” Keating steps forward, the muddy ground now cold enough that it’s gone solid again. “I decided the day I met the Caster you betrayed. Tori hated you so much when she was brought before me. I tried to spare her, but the other Elders voted against me. Taking away her magic, I decided she would be the last witch our laws failed. I knew I had to make the other Elders desperate, and I vowed to do whatever it took.”

The timeline clicks into place. Tori being brought before the Elders in early June, not long after Veronica and I had our run-in with her and the others. Elder Keating reaching her breaking point. I bet she created the first version of the Hunters’ cure. The version Benton used to drug me.

She gave the Hunters the confidence to attack us.

She’s the reason Benton’s parents killed my dad.

It’s all because of her.

“You can still join me, Hannah. I’m going to change the world. You can change it with me.”

“You can eat ice.” I reach into the sky and grab hold of the wind and the rain and the rage boiling inside me. I freeze the rain and shape it into a spear.

Elder Keating’s face contorts with anger. She reaches for something at her hip and flings it toward us.

Lightning brightens the sky, glinting off the silver dagger speeding through the air, and then Morgan is a blur of color as she pushes in front of me.

Warmth splashes my face and shirt, and I startle, the ice melting through my fingers. Morgan falls. A flicker of regret passes Elder Keating’s face before she turns. Before she climbs into her car and pulls away. I drag my gaze away from her taillights and find Morgan at my feet.

There’s a blade sunk deep in her chest.

And a pool of blood growing around her.

29

I COLLAPSE TO MY knees beside Morgan. Cold mud soaks through my clothes. Hot blood covers my hands. “You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be fine,” I promise, but I don’t believe the words.

She’s a Blood Witch. She’ll heal.

But her face is twisted with pain and the blood is still pouring out and I don’t know what to do.

“Help!” The word tears from my throat, carried farther by the wind. “Someone, please!”

Morgan winces and reaches for the hilt of the knife.

“No, don’t pull it out.”

She keeps reaching. “I have to. I won’t heal.”

“Then let me.” I reach for the handle as the back

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