The Windhaven Witches Omnibus Edition : Complete Paranormal Suspense Series, Books 1-4 by Carissa Andrews (graded readers txt) 📕

Wade snickers, shaking his head. “No, I don’t need to reconsider anything. I’m right where I’m supposed to be.” He looks over his shoulder at me, smiling.

I swallow hard, my heart constricting. I love him so much. More than I ever should. But not more than he deserves.

“Wade, I warned you… I tried to reason with you, but you didn’t listen,” his dad says grimly.

“That’s new, how?” Wade chuckles softly.

“This is no laughing matter, Wade. Thanks to your association, the Moirai have turned their attention to our own family. To you,” he says, pressing his lips tightly.

“No,” I breathe, covering my mouth with my fingertips.

“I’m sorry, son. I have no other choice but to release you from your birthright,” the Angel of Death says, taking two huge strides toward his son.

Wade stumbles backward, but his father manages to get ahold of him, wrapping his left hand around Wade’s upper arm. Crying out in surprise, Wade tries to pull away, but he’s no match for his father’s strength.

Then, pressing his right hand to Wade’s chest, bright orange and white light streams from underneath his father’s hand, bursting out in all directions, and escaping through the fabric of Wade’s shirt.

The stench of burnt flesh floods the air as Wade scrambles to get away. I wrap my arms around him like a cloak, holding him close, for what little it does. My pulse races and nothing feels safe.

“What did you do?” Wade cries, clutching at his chest. “What is this?”

His father’s jaw tightens as he stands firm, his gaze now ice cold. “It’s the mark of expulsion.”

To Be Continued in the Final Installment of the

Windhaven Witches: Cursed Legacy, Book 4!

Cursed Legacy

Chapter 1

A Lot Like Christmas

If you had told me two years ago that I was a necromancer with postmortem-medium tendencies, I would have laughed in your face. First of all, because I didn’t know what any of that meant. Second of all, because I didn’t even believe in ghosts. Besides, I was just an ordinary girl, saving money for college so I could become a forensic scientist.

But I would have been wrong.

Now, if you had added that I was a necromancer who would ultimately fall in love with an Angel of Death-in-waiting, but we’d both be cursed by the Moirai, better known as frickin’ Fates, for that love, I would have told you it was time for your meds because you’d clearly gone off the deep end. I’m not that girl.

Only… I am.

I’m all of those things.

It’s been two months since I found out my dad was dead, even though I’d been interacting with him for over a year and didn’t even know he was a ghost. Yeah, color me clueless. I guess the Windhaven Academy can scratch intuitive off the list of powers I have. If this curse catches up with us, I’ll never finish my schooling… Never become what I was meant to be.

Then again, maybe that’s all life is. The perpetual evolution of taking what life throws at you so you can become more of who you already are.

Either way, if the Moirai catch up to us, no amount of schooling will keep us safe. It will be game over. Should they get what they want, there will be one less Blackwood and Hoffman in the world. Our lines will die out with us and the Moirai can walk away, wiping their hands clean of our unfortunate existence

We may as well spend the last few moments of our lives trying to make things right.

And at the very least, neither of us will die alone.

I hope.

Ambient morning light streams into my bedroom window and I can no longer settle into sleep. Instead, I prop myself up on my right arm, watching Wade as he sleeps.

His dark eyelashes dance across his cheeks as he dreams, and I find myself smiling as I wonder what fills his dreams. I hope they’re more peaceful than my own.

Sleep hasn’t been an easy endeavor for the longest time. I’m almost afraid to linger too long there. Besides, if my days are numbered, I want to be awake for as much of them as humanly possible.

With my left hand, I trace the outside circle of the strange mark on Wade’s chest signifying his expulsion from his family’s angel lineage. For weeks it was an angry lesion and it was a painful reminder of how much being together has cost him. It was painful just to look at before, but as the skin has healed, the scar is almost beautiful, in its own way. The outer circle is delicate, with an air that’s reminiscent of a ring of fire. Inside, three triangles all intersect.

Wade’s head lolls to the side, his eyelashes fluttering from my touch.

“Mmmm,” he sighs happily, a smile sliding across his features. “I could wake up to your touch every day.”

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt?” I ask, meeting his gaze.

His silver eyes take in my every move, even through partially closed lids. He shakes his head, resting his hand on top of mine. “No, not anymore.”

I frown, wishing there had been some way to spare him from the pain of any of it. Had I been able to keep my distance and just stayed away from him…maybe he’d be better off right now. Maybe none of this would have happened.

Then again, without Wade, who knows where I’d be. Or how I would have helped my dad. Maybe I’d still be fighting his Lemure—or worse. Maybe I’d be dead.

I shudder away the thought.

“Have you heard anything more from your mom?” Wade asks, tickling the space between my thumb and index finger.

I scrunch my face. “Not since the other day. I tried her last night, but she’s taking things a lot harder than I thought she would.”

“Even if your parents weren’t together anymore, they still had a shared bond. They had you,” Wade whispers.

“I know. But we never really talked about him,” I mutter, dropping back down on