literally in my head?”
“Yes. She tapped into your memories and your fears.” Astrid looks sick with worry, and if the unshakable witch is scared, then so am I. “Whitley, I need to speak with you alone.”
“I’m staying.” Stubborn, Damon tightens his arms around me. “I won’t leave her.”
The witch puts her hands on her hips. “This is important, and it’ll only take a few minutes.”
I gently stroke his jaw. “It’s okay.”
Grinding his teeth so hard I can hear it, he slides me off his lap and stands. He tenderly wraps the blanket around my shoulders more snugly, tilts my chin up, and places a kiss on my lips.
“If anything happens to Whitley in my absence—”
“Psshh.” Unaffected by Damon’s almost-threat, Astrid shoos him out the door along with everyone else.
I wait while she presses her ear to the wood, listening for anyone who might be lingering. When she’s sure no one’s within eavesdropping distance, she turns to me.
“Do you understand what happened tonight?”
I return to the chair, sticking my bare feet out so they’re closer to the fire. “The coven was able to control me through my dream, which is really fucking scary.”
“They came so close to abducting you. If they’d gotten you into the Shadowlands, there’s a good chance I never would’ve seen you again.”
Surprised by the sadness in Astrid’s voice, I glance at her crestfallen face. We don’t know each other. Not really. But she sounds like she cares. Like she’d be devastated if I was gone.
“Have you seen something?” I ask quietly. “In the future?”
Nodding, she steps toward me. “You’re going to be the best friend I’ve ever had.”
“You saw me in a vision.”
“A long time ago, yes.”
Now I understand Astrid’s pursuit of friendship, but we have pressing matters at hand. We can make BFF bracelets later.
“Did you see anything else about the future? Anything about Damon?” I interrogate. “Was he with me in your vision?”
“No.” She frowns. “Sometimes my visions are feelings instead of events. You were there, and I felt a great sense of… importance. You get it, right?”
“Yes.” The way she looks at me—like she already knows me—reminds me of the premonition I had with Damon. How much love I felt for him as we stood among the colorful flowers, and how that love still lingers inside me. “Being a Seer is weird. It’s like your mind puts the cart before the horse, and feelings get all out of order.”
Smiling, Astrid puts her hands out. “Finally, someone who can relate.”
I want to grin back, but weariness makes it difficult to move even just a little bit. “How am I ever supposed to sleep again? After what happened tonight, I’m scared to close my eyes.”
“Don’t you worry about that. I bet the coven’s Extractor feels ten times worse than you do. She’ll probably be out of commission for a couple days. That’s the short-term solution.”
“And the long-term?”
“Now that I know what—or rather—who we’re dealing with, I can help.” She dumps the contents of her backpack onto the bed.
Her ceramic bowl, a wooden spoon, and a few pouches tumble out. My eyes follow her as she disappears into the bathroom with a kettle from the fire. When she returns, she hangs it above the flames before tossing one of the little brown pouches to me.
I lift it to my nose. It smells like potpourri.
“It’s time you learned how to cast a spell,” Astrid says. “This one is for protection. I’m going to teach you how to create a shield around your mind so we can prevent what happened tonight from happening again.”
Dragging a nightstand between us, she sets the bowl on top.
“Can we do this for Damon, too?” I ask hopefully. “And maybe the others in our group?”
I definitely don’t want anyone getting hurt because of this mess. The witches didn’t hesitate to use my concern for Damon against me. Who’s to say they wouldn’t do the same to Quinn? Or Kirian?
Astrid shakes her head as she hands me the spoon. “This kind of spell can only be done on oneself, which is why you have to do it.”
“What if I mess it up?”
“You might,” she responds honestly.
I almost laugh at Astrid’s candor. I should’ve known she wasn’t going to coddle me.
Apprehensive, I watch as she brings the kettle to the bowl and pours about a cup of steaming liquid inside.
“Put some of that in.” She hitches her chin toward the pouch. “Just a pinch. We can’t build magic on plain water. It needs an anchor. Most