“You’d better hope you two have a son,” Whitney said. She leaned against the tree, too, arms crossed.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because if you give him a daughter, she’s going to wrap him so tight around her little finger he’ll be having tea parties and playing dress up.”
I could totally picture that happening.
“You think he spoils you?” Whitney shook her head. “You haven’t seen anything yet. Trust me. I used to be Daddy’s little girl. All I ever had to do was bat my eyelashes and pout, and he gave me everything I wanted.”
“I don’t care what we have as long as it’s healthy and safe,” I said.
There was a certain amount of risk involved with having a baby under normal circumstances, but what Trent and I were trying to do wasn’t normal. Not even close. The risks and consequences were a million times more severe.
“Chloe. There you are,” Isach said, coming to a stop in front of me.
One look at him and I knew something wasn’t right. His hair was sticking up in all directions, his face was flushed, he was panting, and his shirt was twisted. I straightened, my stomach knotting.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Ivy,” he said around a gasp. “I just saw her leaving my house. She was talking to my father.”
I could feel the color drain from my face, and my ears rang. “Ivy was talking to Rector?” I asked slowly, praying I had misunderstood him.
Isach nodded and dragged his hand through his hair. “I have no idea what’s going on—I only heard bits and pieces—but it sounds like Ivy is making a deal with my father.”
Bile rose in the back of my throat, and dizziness swept over me. Trent had told me repeatedly that we couldn’t trust Ivy, and I’d pushed and pushed, concerned only with getting what I wanted. But he’d been right.
“What kind of deal?” I asked.
“I’m not sure, but I think she’s trying to help him get his soul back.”
I momentarily closed my eyes and swallowed hard against the rising nausea. Ivy was double crossing us. She was going behind our back and working with Rector Zoya of all people. Why would she do that? What did she have to gain by helping him? I was still the only one who could break the curse and restore the magical balance. Unless…
Was she bargaining with him—his soul in exchange for him ending the curse? Was Rector her back-up plan in case I changed my mind?
“Okay, enough,” Whitney said to Isach. “Obviously, this is very bad news, but your timing is atrocious. Chloe is getting married tomorrow, and nothing is going to ruin that, so not another word about this until after the wedding. Got it?”
Isach blinked, clearly stunned by what Whitney had said. I was, too, but I was also grateful. The last thing I wanted to deal with was Ivy and Rector when I should be focusing on marrying Trent.
“Sorry, Chloe,” Isach said with a frown.
“It’s okay,” I said.
“No, Whitney’s right. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll keep an eye on things tonight, see if I can find out anything else, but I promise not to say another word about this until after the wedding,” Isach said.
Trent walked over, Little Frank on his hip.
“Low-ee!” He reached for me, and I took Little Frank from Trent’s arms.
“Hey, buddy.” I smiled.
Little Frank squeezed my cheeks and puckered his lips against my nose. “Trent lost the froggy.”
“Oh yeah?” I glanced at Trent, who was smiling. “Does Trent need a time out?”
“Yeah.” Little Frank nodded. “Trent time out.”
“Nice, you got me in trouble,” Trent said, winking at me in that special way I liked so much. “So, what’s going on over here?”
My gaze darted to Isach, then Whitney. Even though I agreed with them to basically ignore this problem until after the wedding, I couldn’t lie to Trent about what was going on. That wasn’t fair.
“Tell him what you told us,” I said to Isach.
Then I carried Little Frank over to Larissa. She took him and thanked me, then returned to whatever conversation she was having with Aunt Beth. It was nice to see them getting along so well.
I lingered at the table with my mom’s picture. I’d give anything to have her here right now, to see her smiling at me, tears in her eyes, as I walked down the aisle tomorrow. Despite everything, I knew she’d be proud of me, and she’d be thrilled I was marrying someone as wonderful as Trent. I kissed my fingertips and pressed them to the urn.
I miss you, Mom.
Wandering back over to Trent, I heard him say, “I’m going to kill her.” There was pure venom in his tone. His hands were clenched into tight fists.
I took hold of his hand, uncurled his fingers, and slipped mine through his. “You’re not killing anyone,” I said quietly. “We have no idea what’s actually going on.”
Trent gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “I know, but like it or not, we need her, Chloe.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Isach said.
“Yes, we do. She needs to unlink us when Trent changes me,” I said, careful to keep my voice low.
“The linking spell she used is Magic 101. Every witch on the planet knows how to do that spell.” Isach waved his hand dismissively. “I can unlink you when the time comes.”
My eyes widened, and my mind raced with too many jumbled thoughts. “But…”
“The link is part of the bond transfer,” Trent said.
“No, it’s not.” Isach crossed his arms and shifted on his feet. Then he moved closer to me. “Can I?” he asked, nodding at my neck.
I moved my hair from my neck and tilted my head. Isach placed his hand over the bite mark and closed his eyes. I winced slightly, not because Isach was hurting me, but because a sudden intense heat radiated from the
