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“Hence the kissing.”

“The kiss wasn’t research.”

“Thank the gods. I was worried your seduction technique involved footnotes.”

A laugh escaped me, brief and shaky. “I wanted him, Delia. Not because the bond told me to. I wanted him before I understood why. I wanted him when he was making terrible jokes because he was scared.”

“That is either love or terrible taste in comedians.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I, mostly.” Her expression gentled. “What are you afraid of?”

The answer should have been my mother. It should have been exile, losing the coven, or watching centuries of Fortman power pass to someone else.

“That she’ll hurt him because of me,” I whispered. “She already stole a year from him over one insult. Now that she knows he matters to me, she’ll know exactly where to cut.”

“Then stay away from him.”

The words hurt so sharply that my magic flared before I could control it. Gold sparks snapped across the basin.

Delia nodded as if I had answered a question. “Right. That’s what I thought.”

“That was cruel.”

“It was efficient. You don’t want permission to leave him alone. You want someone to tell you that wanting him doesn’t make you selfish.”

I looked down at my wet hands. “Does it?”

“No. Your mother taught you that every choice belongs to the coven unless she dislikes it, in which case it belongs to her. That doesn’t make it true.” Delia took my hand. “Logan is your mate. What you do with that bond belongs to the two of you.”

“She’ll come after you if you help me.”

“Probably.”

“Delia.”

“Carrie, I’ve spent my entire life being told that you’ll lead this coven someday. If that future requires me to stand quietly while Jacqueline destroys you before you get there, then it’s a shitty future.”

Emotion tightened my throat. I squeezed her hand.

“What do I do at the reception?”

“Stand beside your mother. Perform your duties. Be the perfect heir.” Delia’s smile sharpened. “Then, when no one is looking, decide what Carolina wants.”

“You make treason sound easy.”

“Good eyeliner and low expectations. That’s the secret.”

I laughed again, and this time the sound did not shake.

The frightening part was no longer that choosing Logan might cost me everything. It was how clearly I could finally see the price of keeping it.

Chapter Seven

I wasn’t going to the party.

Dean had been promoting it for weeks. Paws, Claws & Fangs’ Annual Halloween Gala, the biggest supernatural social event of the year. Costumes required. Masks encouraged. No humans allowed.