Everwild (The Healer Series, #1) Read Free

one, you know.”
    “Oh, Pandora,” Pertussia said, “Do try to
enjoy yourself, will you dear?”
    “For me?” Willow prompted with a slightly
sarcastic smile and flipped upside down watching her.
    “Follow me,” Pandora rolled her eyes, her
cloak billowing behind her in the wind. Willow looked at Pertussia
and shrugged, righting herself to follow Pandora. Pertussia and
Portia-Anna flanked her, keeping the vibrant witch in line.
Portia-Anna kept her entertained by talking about all the handsome
warlocks she was hoping would be there.
    Willow’s heart beat erratically and uneven at
the mention of her ceremony. The way her sisters talked, this
celebration was a big deal. She didn’t expect a big turn-out
tonight, and Willow really didn’t want people fawning over her like
a celebrity. Many of the other Witch Covens in the area would be
there, as Portia-Anna invited practically all of them, and most of
the Warlock Orders would be there as well. The most powerful Order,
the Emerald Circle, was an elite group of the best magic casters
around. They had several young warlocks, whom Portia-Anna always
tried to talk about, but Willow wasn’t in the mood. The last time
The Emerald Circle came to one of their events, she had a very
nasty argument with the Head Warlock’s son, Declan. Willow and
Declan did not get along, and she really, really hoped he wouldn’t
be there tonight.
    “And that Declan, woo,” Portia-Anna
interrupted her thoughts, trying to talk about the very person she
was just thinking, (or trying not to) think about, “if I was
thirty…oh maybe fifty-years younger, oh my, I would be going after
him!” She flipped her purple hair behind her back and winked at
Willow suggestively, “how about it, Willow?”
    “Um…no,” She said awkwardly. “I don’t think
so.”
    “Well why not?”
    “Because he’s an arrogant, egotistical,
son-of-a-”
    “Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Portia-Anna
said laughing.
    “Can’t you be a little nicer to him, dear?”
Pertussia said joining the conversation. “He is sweet enough to
come to the party for you.”
    “He’s only going to be there because of his
father, mister high and mighty Head Warlock Emerson himself,”
Willow said rudely. “He’d never be interested in someone like
me.”
    Pertussia gasped. “Don’t say things like
that, dear! You’re a beautiful, brilliant witch! Any warlock would
be lucky to have you.”
    “Not to mention he’s so handsome!”
Portia-Anna exclaimed and Willow didn’t say anything in response.
She couldn’t deny her. Declan was downright gorgeous. But, of
course, he knew it and flaunted himself in front of the ladies,
especially of his age, making them think they had a chance with
them, and then breaking their hearts. She knew his personality
type, and tried to stay far, far away. Declan and his preppy group
of warlocks would surely be there, and Willow wasn’t looking
forward to it. Her sisters were sweet, but deep down Willow knew he
had a right to be arrogant. She could never measure up to someone
like Declan Aldridge. He was the whole package wrapped in a big red
shiny bow.
    “Give him a chance, dear,” Pertussia
encouraged, but Willow simply couldn’t. Not when he had insulted
her the last time she saw him. Willow recalled his words as if it
were yesterday. They had gotten into an argument over a certain
spell, and they argued and argued until they settled into actually
working it out. Declan got the spell exactly right and managed to
change a black cat to white with green polka dots, and the spell
Willow thought was right didn’t do anything but make the cat keel
over to sleep. Transformations were the first thing a young witch
learns, and she failed miserably. Declan and his friends burst into
laughter, embarrassing her in front of everybody. Declan made fun
of her saying, “Wow, Willow Tree, brains really aren’t everything,
because in your case, they’re nothing.”
    He basically called her stupid,