Cast in Faefire: An Urban Fantasy Romance (The Mage Craft Series Book 3) by S.M. Reine Page B

my way out. How lucky to have encountered you two, though. I didn’t expect to see you here, Seth.”
    “Rylie’s witches are going to help fix me up,” Seth said. “Make sure that I don’t die.”
    “ Her witches? Why didn’t you come to me?”
    He carefully disengaged his arm from hers. “I was pretty sure you wouldn’t want to see me. Because, you know…” He pointed at his teeth, and her neck, making the kind of expression that belonged on a Halloween vampire mask.
    “That’s patently ridiculous. You should realize by now that I’d always want to see you.”
    Seth jammed his hands into his pockets. “You can’t blame me for thinking that might have changed, all things considered.”
    “I can and do blame you,” Marion said.
    “We have places to be,” Rylie interrupted. “The witches won’t be around all day, Seth.”
    Marion forced a smile. “Then let’s go see them.”
    “You’re not invited,” Rylie said.
    “I’m not asking for an invitation. I don’t know how you’ve vetted your witches, so they won’t work on my friend unless I review their techniques.”
    “ Your friend?” Rylie glanced between Seth and Marion, her eyebrows climbing her forehead.
    “I’d appreciate having Marion’s opinion,” Seth said.
    Rylie could have shut Seth down. God on Earth or not, Seth wasn’t Alpha. It wasn’t his sanctuary, his Academy, his home, or his witches. But she said, “If that’s what you want, Seth,” and there was a strange pitch to Rylie’s voice.
    She didn’t need to defer to Seth, but she was going to.
    If Marion had been a werewolf, that would have been the moment her hackles lifted.
    Instead, she took Seth’s arm again, and he didn’t pull away from her.
    “Excellent,” Marion said coolly. “Let’s see what sort of so-called witches the sanctuary employs.”

    * * *
    B etween the Winter Court and her home on Vancouver Island, Marion wasn’t lacking for ritual space, but she still lusted over the Academy’s altar.
    It resided in a room big enough to hold all of the North American Union’s covens at once, with one wall open to the forest, a cliff, and the private lake. All of the elements were represented nearby: fire held captive in basins, earth below, sky above, water in the lake. Even the stone of the mountains and the iron curls embedded in the floor would offer different kinds of energy to feed all rituals. At night, the moon would shine through the dome of glass that the sun currently beamed from. Golden motes drifted through the air.
    But the altar. The altar .
    It was a multi-leveled thing of marble beauty. Its glass bowls cradled crystals aging through phases of the moon. The cloths were spun with silver thread that shimmered like water.
    Marion was awed until the witch standing on the altar turned.
    “Sinead McGrath,” Marion snarled. She recognized her from the sparse descriptions in her old journals—specifically, in the pink vitiligo patterning her otherwise tanned skin. A shock of white hair flowed over her right ear.
    The witch’s eyes narrowed. “Marion Garin.”
    Sinead was a stronger witch than Marion would have expected to find in Rylie’s employ—strong enough that she had felt she could rival Marion’s power. And she very nearly could.
    But only nearly.
    “You’re going to let her work on Seth?” Marion asked.
    “Work on whom?” Sinead asked.
    “My friend,” Rylie said. “Abel’s brother. He was made into a golem during Genesis, and he needs to be repaired.”
    Marion opened her mouth to argue, but Seth nudged her. He shook his head once he had her attention.
    “I’ve never seen a golem so detailed before,” Sinead said. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to help.”
    “Wait here a moment,” Rylie said to Seth. “I need to hash out details with my high priestess.” The Alpha took Sinead behind the altar so they could discuss what work Seth needed performed without Marion’s intrusion. The motive was so transparent that Marion