The Bound Witch (The Osseous Chronicles, #3)

by Ivy Asher

“Stop it,” I snap at my hands as I watch the dead in horror. “Bad magic!”

I look over my shoulder to find them following me like obedient baby ducks.

I instruct my magic to relocate my little death ducklings, and then I slam a hand over my mouth with shock when my power goes overboard and practically launches the bodies.

I wonder if Cardi B would do an anthem for me. She’d be perfect, she’s the level of Bad Bitch I’m feeling right now.

“I don’t know what in the fucked up Grey’s Anatomy you ghosts get up to, Lentil Soup. I’m not here to judge,” he reassures me.

I learned a valuable lesson in that church, and I can see and sense that Rogan feels the exact same way. It’s time to open my eyes and see the truth, regardless of how intimidating, final, or scary it might be. I’m a bound witch, and maybe, just maybe, that’s a good thing.

“I love you, Lennox,” he tells me evenly with absolutely no hesitation. “I love you in the way that grows as we grow together. The kind of love worth fighting for, that has me waking up every day grateful and willing to do whatever it takes. I know what you did for Elon, because it’s the same thing you did for me. You’re the light in the darkness. The stars that guide you home when you’re lost. You carry the broken from battle and lift the drowning from the clawing cold that’s trying to claim them. You slay the demons.”

This is the be-all and end-all kind of love that can only be nurtured with patience and understanding. This is the good shit that takes work and time, but when you truly give it everything you have, it’s the epic kind of love that will sustain a soul even in the darkest of times.

“I just might love you more than your coffee maker,” I announce straight-faced. “It’s probably too early to tell. We are new to this whole love thing, but the potential is definitely there.”

“You cannot fuck me into a jelly-like state and then make me talk about your mom. I’m pretty sure there are rules against that,” I whine.

“I had to take a cab, Thaddeus!” she screeches at him.

“Make mine an Untidy Joseph, please,” Elon calls after her, and the smile that takes over my face is beaming.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on!

HOLD ON HOLD ON HOLD ON HER SISTER WAS A WITCH SHE CAME DOWN IN A BUBBLE DOUG

“Because I had met someone who made me want to run to them instead of away...and then I lost her. I was fed up with backing down and fleeing. It was time to make them pay.”

He was going to go to war for me. I’d died and he was going to burn it all to the ground, fed up and ready to dish out some much deserved retribution. Well, if that isn’t the most romantic damn thing.

Across the street, a sea of bones floats just over the ground in the massive graveyard. I squeal with panic and start flapping my arms, shooing the bones back to what was supposed to be their final resting place.

Hoot’s gray Ewok-looking ass comes scrambling around the corner and squeals with excitement as he barrels right into me.

Hoot suddenly thinks this is some kind of game and proceeds to trot after him, a steady stream of toots going off like machine-gun fire in his wake.

I run right past him, wrapping the espresso maker up in a bear hug so tight that it communicates how much I’ve missed her and that I never want to leave her again. “It’s you and me forever, you got that?” I promise her, closing my eyes to revel in the feel of her cool metal outside and the magic all her parts create inside.

“I am not the dumping ground for your frustration and anger. Figure out a better way,” I tell him, my tone soft and quiet.

My terrified eyes find Marx as I rush to get barriers back around him and the others. His eyes widen with shock for a fraction of a second, the sound of gunfire drowning out my soul wrenching plea, and then a bullet rips through his forehead.

“You’re a good witch, Lennox,” he tells me somberly, and I shake my head at him.

“It’s all going to be okay,” he tells me, confidence and wisdom ringing in his tone. “Even when you can’t see how, it will all be okay.”

I tell myself, but for some reason, the inner pep talk isn’t doing much for me today. Probably because my inner voice is super focused on nachos right about now.

“Of course I still love you, Lennox. You’re it for me. Good days or bad, sleep or no sleep, cuddle slut or pouting on the other end of the couch. It’s you and me forever.”

Rogan snorts. “I never got that saying, everyone judges a book by its cover. It’s normal.”

“There is no such thing as spending too much time at a bookstore. How dare you, sir!”

“Name one time telling someone to calm down actually worked. Just one,”

Is that it? P.S. you have demon magic, but you and your boyfriend make a cute couple, so you should be good?

“The contract I’m talking about wasn’t with the human. It was with the High Council.”

wuttttttttttttttttttttttttt!!!!!!!

That’s checkmate, you evil cunt.

“When he was executed just now, I felt the transference. And if that’s not enough...look at the marks,” I tell everyone, holding one foot out and then the other for everyone to see. Internally I thank my Grammy for giving my Aunt Hillen a heads-up to “look at the marks.”

I whirl on her. “If you know what is good for you, you will never speak to him again. Do not say his name, in fact don’t even look at him. I don’t have to make your death painless, let’s be very fucking clear about that,” I growl at her.

“You’re the fucking High Priestess of nothing,” I bellow at her, and she flinches with shock. “What do you not understand about the fact that I own your useless soul? I watched a psychopath, that you created by the way, torture your son, and he whined a hell of a lot less than you. Shut the hell up and die with some dignity, you fucking coward,” I snap, fed up with the entitled commands and delusional rants.

My eyes immediately well up again as I pick up the small jackalope antler from the box and set it in my palm.

“Omg, my ancestors are going to be so damn excited when I induct this little guy into the pouch of bones,” I squeal as we wrap ourselves around each other and just be.

“I was going to teach you how to make the espresso maker cum next,” he teases, and I moan in approval.