The Witching Moon: The Witches of Redwood Falls - Book 1 Read online

  Just like she’d lost Drake.

  No!

  She couldn’t lose them both. That would mean that she’d pushed Drake away for nothing. And she couldn’t let that happened. Years of waiting couldn’t have been for nothing.

  Pushing from the tree, she marched into the clearing, her eyes searching the stones before latching on to a figure leaning against the middle stone.

  The Heart Stone.

  Her heart sped up. This was happening. This was real. He was exactly where the prophecy said he’d be.

  She weaved through the damp, tall grass in the field toward the circle. Toward her mate.

  She hesitated outside, waiting, watching. It was bright. The moon wasn’t full, but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Soft blue rays caressed dark hair, bouncing off broad shoulders to a tapered waist. He was tall, and from only seeing his back, handsome too.

  He drew her to him. As much as she resented that, she couldn’t deny it. Who was he?

  “Hi.” She squeezed her eyes closed, wanting to disappear in a hole. Hi? Really? That was the best thing she could come up with? “Do I know you?”

  His body stiffened at her voice, then relaxed as he turned.

  She gasped. “Drake?”

  He nodded slowly, his dark brown eyes connecting with hers.

  Her shoulders fell as the moment deflated. “What are you doing here?”

  “What do you think I’m doing?”

  “I have no clue what you think you’re doing. All I know is that you aren’t supposed to be here.”

  His chin notched up as he folded his arms across his body. “This is exactly where I’m supposed to me.”

  “No. This is where I’m supposed to be. Where I’m supposed to meet my mate.” She looked around the clearing. “Have you seen him?”

  He nodded once.

  “Well, where is he?” Her hands rested on her hips.

  “In front of you.”

  “In front of…” Her eyes slid over him again. “No. No, Drake. I already told you today. You’re not him.”

  A muscle ticked in his cheek, but he held his ground. “I’m him. I’m here. Look around us, Poppy. Do you see someone else?”

  She stomped her foot. “This is crazy! Why are you doing this?”

  He stalked her until they were toe to toe. “Because I love you. Because even though you rejected me, I still want you. Because even though you say I’m not him, I’m willing to fight to be him.”

  He stood tall and broad, not touching her, but using his body, his nearness to affect her. It worked. She shivered; her hands itched to touch him. But she couldn’t. He shouldn’t be here.

  “Drake, you need to go. Now,” she said, looking everywhere but him.

  He notched her chin up with one finger, forcing her to look at him. “I’m not leaving.”

  “I can’t meet him if you’re here.”

  “No one else is coming.”

  She pushed away in frustration and kicked the grass. “That’s because you’re here. You changed things. You messed this up. Maybe he came but saw you and decided to leave. Did you think of that?”

  His jaw clenched. “No one’s been here.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’ve been here all afternoon.”

  Her mouth dropped open, whatever she was going to say died away. He’d been here for hours? Why? What was he trying to accomplish?

  Her mate hadn’t come. She sunk to one of the fallen stones on the ground. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. He should be here. They should be happy.

  What did you expect? She hadn’t planned on love right away, but she’d planned on being happy at least.

  She glanced at the moon. Six days. She only had six days to find her mate and accept him. Could he accept her that quickly?

  It was hopeless. “You don’t know what you’ve done,” she whispered.

  He crouched in front of her. “Yes I do. I’m him, Poppy. I know it.” She shook her head, but he stopped her. “I am.”

  She finally looked at him, truly looked. He believed that, and she wished he was right. But he wasn’t. No magic flowed through his veins, the Fates didn’t obey him, and he hadn’t been marked by the moon. Whatever that meant.

  “Let’s go.” She couldn’t stay here. Not even for another second. The empty woods only reminded her of her loss.

  He helped her up. “We can stay, if you want.”

  Brushing off her pants she said, “There’s no point. He should have been here by now.”

  “Poppy—”

  She held up a hand. “No. Don’t say it.”

  He took her hand in his. She didn’t even try to pull it away. It would only hurt him, and after it all, she still couldn’t bear to do that.

  Him showing up was the worst thing that could’ve happened to her. It’d been hard enough that afternoon, but to see him here, to have her heart’s desire within reaching distance, mocking her, it shredded her. “I want to go home.”

  “All right. Can I walk with you?”

  She nodded, but didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything else to say.

  When he left her at her front door, after forcing a promise from her that they’d talk in the morning, she went inside and sunk to the floor.

  And cried.

  Nothing would ever be right again.

  When the sun rose the next morning after a long, sleepless night, Poppy knew what she had to do. She packed an overnight bag and loaded her car, heading out of town before the town awoke.

  In morning light, the emerald hills off the California coast were dramatic. She could see why her ancestors had settled here after leaving their home in Ireland. This land echoed Cork’s green fields, the changeable ocean, the magic in the air. It surrounded her, was a part of her.

  Her grandmother grew up in the house bordering the forest by Cloch Chroí, but passed it on to her daughter once her husband died. And when Poppy’s own parents decided to retire in Ireland, they’d given it to her.

  She loved her parents and spoke with them often, but the bond she shared with her grandmother surpassed all other familial ties. Nana said it had something to do with their former lives, and Poppy believed her. Her grandmother was the wisest woman she’d ever known. If anyone could help her figure out how to fix this mess, it was her.

  She pulled into her grandma’s driveway an hour later. From the bamboo shutters on the windows to the straw umbrellas shading lounge chairs sunk in the sand, the modest house on the beach fit her.

  “Right on time, Honey. Breakfast is ready,” her grandma said.

  “Nana.” The relief poured through her. Leaving the bags in her car, she sprinted up the porch and into her grandmother’s arms.

  “There, there.” She rubbed Poppy’s back briskly. “We’ll figure it out.”

  Poppy wasn’t surprised by her grandma’s words. Nana was wise in ways that Poppy didn’t understand. She hadn’t been gifted with sight like Nana.

  “We’ll get your bags later. Let’s get some food into our bellies while we talk it over.”

  The house was relatively small compared to the other homes along this stretch of beach, but it was just enough for her. It was bright, airy, and once inside, it felt bigger than it appeared. The kitchen was quaint, but welcoming, its bright paint reflecting light from a large bay window in the breakfast nook.

  Her grandma topped french toast with syrup before adding two strips of bacon from a pile cooling next to the oven. “Better eat up while it’s hot.” She winked.

  “How did you know I was coming?”

  “Oh, well. The same way I always know.” She smiled.

  Poppy cut her food into bite-sized pieces, but didn’t start eating until her grandma sat across from her. The warmed syrup pricked her taste buds. She moaned at her first bite of heaven. “Why are these so good?”

  “Because I added a little magic.”

  Poppy raised a brow before inspecting her food. “You did? Want to share that in
gredient?”

  A secret smile crested her wrinkled cheek. “Maybe someday.”

  They’d had this conversation more times than she could count. Someday she’d figure out the extra ingredient. “Thanks for making these.”

  “It’s my pleasure, Sweeting. I don’t get to cook for others very often.”

  “You aren’t lonely here are you?” Why hadn’t she asked that before now? Was she so selfish, so wrapped up in her own life that she wasn’t able to see the needs of someone she loved?

  “Oh, now. None of that,” Nana scolded. “You have enough on your mind without adding misplaced guilt to the mix. I’m perfectly happy here. I have friends. I have a life. I could use a great grandchild or two, but first we need to fix the matter of their father.” Poppy’s fork clattered on her plate. “Deep breath, Dear.”

  Poppy’s hand shook as she reached for a glass of orange juice. “So, you know?”

  Her lips pinched. “It’s not hard to tell. You’re up here after All Hallows Eve on your 28th year. I’d have to know something went wrong.”

  “But I think you know more than that.”

  “Perhaps,” she nodded thoughtfully.

  “Did you see it? What happened?”

  “Of course.”

  Her hand shook as she set down the cup. “How could this have happened? It wasn’t meant to be this way. The prophecy—”

  “Prophecies turn out the way they’re supposed to.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  Her grandma dabbed her lips with a white napkin before pushing out of her chair. “Come with me. There’s something I want you to see.”

  Poppy didn’t question her. She rose, immediately following her grandmother into one of the small spare bedrooms that doubled as an office.

  Her grandma opened the door to the tiny closet, the hinges squeaking from misuse, before she pulled out a large leather-bound book.

  She couldn’t remember ever seeing it, but for some reason, it felt familiar to her. “What is that?”

  A wrinkled hand caressed the front. “This book holds all the important visions I’ve had in my life.”

  Poppy’s eyes latched on to the cover. That book not only held secrets of her grandmother’s life and every one in her family, but could easily hold secrets the world wasn’t ready for. Her grandmother was the most powerful seer of her time. No one, not even in her mother’s generation, nor hers, compared. “Why have I never seen it before?”

  “Because you weren’t ready.”

  Her eyes slid to her grandmother’s, the light green color identical. “I don’t know if I’m ready now.”

  A chuckle eased from her lips. “You aren’t. At least not for most of it. I don’t know if you ever will be. But your prophecy, the one about last night, is in here.”

  The page was bookmarked, and Poppy wondered how long her grandma knew she’d be coming.

  Poppy scanned the familiar words, written in the looping script. She read it slowly the second time through, but there wasn’t anything new here. It was the same exact prophecy she’d memorized. The one she’d been thinking of her whole life.

  “I don’t understand.” She looked up questioningly. “There’s nothing new there.”

  “Read it one more time.”

  Her eyes slipped over the words, instead of reading them, she felt them. Deep within her.

  ‘Til the next full moon is all the time you have together to forge your union or lose it forever. If hearts aren’t joined by the bright circle’s light, then surrender your love to the dark of night.

  The words sent chills through her. The full moon was five days away. She had five days to find her mate, to make him accept her. Or else all was lost.

  “There’s not enough time,” she whispered.

  “For?”

  “To find him.”

  “What makes you think you haven’t already?”

  She pushed away from the wall. “Drake’s not the one. He’s not magic. He hasn’t been marked by the moon.”

  Her grandmother’s head cocked. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve known him for years. I think that’s something I’d know. Besides, I told him the same thing. He didn’t admit to having magic.”

  “Only you will know who it is. You have to decide.”

  Her lips firmed. “It’s not that simple.”

  Her grandma’s mouth opened, but she closed it slowly, shaking her head.

  “What?”

  Her grandma tapped her lips, hesitating. “I can’t say more. This is for you to decide, for you to work through. Go home. See what happens. Nothing can be accomplished while you’re here. Time is going by, and you don’t want to waste it. I love you. You’ll figure this out.”

  Her grandmother’s faith in her did little to sooth her worry. She didn’t know if she could figure this out. Didn’t know if there was enough time.

  But what else could she do? She couldn’t run from this, couldn’t hide. If her mate was out there, he was around her home, and that’s where she needed to be as well.

  If Drake screwed up her fate, she needed to trust that fate would step in once again to fix the mess.

  All hope was not lost.

  Chapter 3

  Drake liked to think that if another man had shown up last night, he’d have stepped aside and given Poppy what she’d needed. He was grateful that theory hadn’t been tested. She mattered to him, more than anything, and he wanted her to be happy.

  He didn’t know much about the prophecy. Only that she was supposed to meet her mate at the circle that night, and that there was some sort of time limit. He needed to know what the rest of it said and clear away any lingering doubt she may have.

  She hadn’t taken his appearance at the stones well, but he’d prepared for that. He had to make her come around. And he would, he promised himself. He’d be patient, he’d wait, he'd do whatever it took to win her. Because she was it for him.

  With a deep breath, he knocked on her door. It was late morning, the dew not completely evaporated off the burgundy mums in the front planter, but Poppy was an early riser. When she didn’t answer, he knocked again before checking her windows for movement. Nothing.

  He went around the side and peaked into her garage, frowning at the empty space. Panic fluttered in his chest, but he tamped it down. She was safe, she had to be. He’d walked her home last night and made sure she was secure in her house before leaving. Plus, he knew she protected her house with more than the shotgun she kept loaded above the china cabinet.

  Where could she have gone? Had she ran away? No, he discarded the idea almost immediately. It wasn’t like her to run away from something. She was strong, a fighter. When things didn’t work out, she pushed through. It was a trait he loved about her, something they had in common. Neither of them ever quit.

  He strode through the gate, latching it before sitting on the half wall surrounded another garden bed. He didn’t know how long she’d be, but he wasn’t in a hurry to leave. It was peaceful here, calm. He breathed deeply, smelling the pungent earth and the tea roses behind him. It smelled like her, he realized as he dragged in another breath, holding the perfume in tightly before releasing it.

  A car rumbled down the road, the occasional kick letting him know that it was Poppy. He really needed to fix that for her. If only she’d let him.

  He didn’t stand as she drove onto the driveway, wanting her to make the first move. He wouldn’t push, wouldn’t force. She didn’t respond well to that, and he knew she would only push back. Their years of friendship aided him. He knew her better than he knew himself.

  He smiled at her once she climbed out. “Hi. Nice drive?”

  “Yeah.” She shifted the keys from hand to hand, but he didn’t remark on the nervous gesture. “Really nice actually. I visited my grandma.”

  His brows rose. “I’m surprised you’re back already. You must have left early.”

  “I didn’t get much sleep.”

  “Me either.”
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  She eyed him warily, and his conscience pricked. He hated to see her distressed.

  “Do you want to come inside? I can make some coffee.”

  “Sure.”

  He fell into step behind her, wanting to soothe her rigid shoulders, rub her stiff neck. But he knew he couldn’t touch her. Not yet. She needed space, needed to come around to the idea of them together. He could wait.

  For now.

  But as he sat at the table in her small kitchen, watching her bustle around, keeping busy, her hips swaying gracefully, he wasn’t so sure. He’d wanted her for so long, needed her. It was everything he could do to stay in his seat, to not reach out, to not touch her.

  “Here. Just how you like it,” she said, placing black coffee in front of him.

  He smelled roses as she brushed past him, his eyes hooding at the scent. His fingers itched to reach out to her.

  So close!

  “Thanks.”

  “I hope you weren’t waiting long.”

  He sipped the biting brew. “Only a few minutes actually. I’m glad I was able to catch you.”

  She nodded, choosing a seat on the opposite end of the table to sit. She couldn’t be farther away, he thought. He set his cup down. “Look, Poppy. I know this is hard, but we need to talk about it.”

  “Okay,” she said before taking a sip. Her shoulders straightened as if preparing for battle.

  He could easily imagine what she wanted to say, but he didn’t have a desire to hear that it was impossible to be together. “Wait.” He held up a hand. “Please.” Her mouth closed slowly as she leaned back into her chair. “May I say something first?”

  “All right.”

  “I know what you’re thinking. I know that you think this isn’t right, that we can’t be together.” He waited for her nod. “I don’t know everything about the prophecy, so I can’t argue any points there, but I do know one thing and it’s the same thing I said last night. No one will ever love you like I do.”

  She gulped. “You don’t know that.”

  His nostrils flared. “I do.”

  “Drake, please—”

  “Ah.” He held up his hand. “There’s more.” He checked the smile tweaking his lips. She was so adorable when annoyed, but grinning would only piss her off. “I know you don’t agree with me. And I don’t want to force you into anything. I don’t want to take away any of your options.”