CHAPTER THREE- ADRIANA

The world ends with the Black Wind coven.

The world ends with you.

Those are the words of the prophecy. Those are the words that wake me up at night.

The words that have become the reason why I volunteered to take in some of the displaced wolves. Because if I don't have something to keep me busy, I am going to lose my mind.

I didn't expect to be landed with the Alpha. But when the others in the coffee shop realized that I was powerful enough to break his curse, I was relegated to keeping him alive.

I am starting to figure this town out.

I am starting to realize that in New Haven, everyone stick together, no matter what. Everyone helps one another.

The different beings and creatures in this town might not be close. But they are loyal.

It makes sense.

Supernatural creatures, while powerful, are outnumbered by demons and humans. Demons want to destroy us and humans usually don't understand us.

So sticking together is the only thing we have.

It is what protects us, what keeps us safe, what binds us to magic.

After I make sure that the sleeping potion has knocked Derrick out, I take a look around my new apartment.

It is big and airy, and smells like cinnamon and lavendar. It has three bedrooms, and is on the first floor of a three story building.

I own the entire building and the property that it sits on, as well as the surrounding properties.

I don't know what I'll do there yet. Maybe set up another clinic, where I simply sit and remove curses all day.

It seems that I am good at it, and I'll probably rake in the cash.

Not that I need it.

Because my Grandmother, the Crone of our coven, did not only leave me with the truth and a prophecy.

She left me with billions of dollars.

I still smile at the absurdity of the thought. I am used to having money, because my parents both did well for themselves. My sisters and I have never wanted for anything.

But being the daughter of the millionaire is different from owning BILLIONS all by yourself.

The funniest part of this situation is that she left my sisters nothing. She also spelled the money, properties, bonds, and gold and silver.

So I literally cannot share it with my family, because of her unbreakable spell.

The world ends with the Black Wind Coven.

The world ends with you.

The chilling words of the prophecy don't make any sense.

Nothing makes sense anymore.

But apparently, the prophecy is saying that if I do not take over as the High Priestess and Governor of my family's coven - the biggest and most powerful coven in the Northern Hemisphere - the coven will fall apart.

And if the coven falls apart, the world will end. Somehow.

I don't know. Maybe the Oracle was high off her ass when she made the prophecy.

I didn't know the real words of the prophecy before my Grandmother's death, which was the catalyst to all the following events.

The prophecy as I knew it as a child read:

The world starts with the Trinity of the Black Wind Coven.

The coven starts with them.

Everyone instantly believed that it spoke about my sisters, who are triplets.

I was born a year after the triplets, but I was ignored practically from birth. In the end, my Grandmother took me in, and raised me.

But my parents, who were responsible for my training, neglected that part of my life. And my Grandmother was too old to train a young child.

I only realize now why my Grandmother was so protective of me.

My parents lied to me - and everyone - about the prophecy, because the real version was too scary.

They lied, apparently, because if everyone knew that I was the subject of a bad prophecy, I might be sacrificed to Hecate.

I don't believe any of it. My parents, my sisters and I are royalty within the world of witches. No one would dare lay a hand on me.

I still do not know the real reason behind why my parents - especially my mother - lied to me. But I don't think I care enough to find out.

Just then, I hear a groaning coming from the guest room.

Derrick must be awake again. I don't know how he keeps burning through the power of my teas so quickly. Maybe he has witch blood in him, because any other shifter would be snoring their life away.

"Lay down!" I snap as I walk in.

"No," he gasps the words. His face is ashen, his eyes bloodshot. "I have to go, check on the...pups."

"The children are okay," I say, eschewing the shifter word for children. "You, on the other hand, are not."

"How do you know?" He says quietly, but lays back down at my behest.

"Because I can smell it on you."

"I didn't know you were a shifter." There is a dry joke in his voice.

I smile at him, rolling my eyes.

"I can smell magic. Or rather, my magic can smell magic. And right now, your magic smells bad."

"Shifter magic died out with my ancestors, so I don't know what you're smelling." He murmurs. He turns on his side.

He is only wearing a pair of shorts. The rest of Derrick is bare.

I examine his face as he looks away from me.

He has dark, dark hair, and bright blue eyes. His hair is messy, and chunks of it have been ripped out. Probably in last night's rush.

But he is still handsome somehow.

He has a strong jawline, and a straight, sharp nose. His mouth is more full than any man's should be.

And he has ridiculously long, dark eyelashes, and straight, dark brows.

He must be over six feet tall and his body is broad.

I don't miss the way his hands and feet are calloused, as though he has done extremely hard physical labor.

My thoughts float back to my charmed childhood. I lived the childhood of a Princess, and Derrick clearly didn't.

"What are you going to do now?" I ask him, the question slipping from me suddenly, unbidden.

He shrugs painfully.

"I don't know. We need to stay close to the land. It is ancient and powerful, and belongs to us. But we don't have the money to rebuild."

"Really?" I had been taught, throughout my childhood, that shifters were even wealthier than witches.

"Yeah, we're not really the most conventional pack. We're all refugees from one pack or another. A bunch of lone wolves, and stray cats, who decided to live together. We saved and saved, sleeping in our cars and caravans, before we bought the land."

"Wow," I murmur, as I smooth a soothing salve over the cuts on his back. "That must have been tough."

"It was." His voice is choked up. "We camped in tents on the land, or got help from the town. But we won't have that now. I don't think we'll ever be able to rebuild again."