Chapter Thirty-Three
***Westleyan***
Jarron, Danica, and I stand at the edge of the small town, but have yet to cross the border. I twist the ring on my finger, a stone—black tourmaline—sparkling up at me.
“It will prevent bad magic from touching you,” Danica explains. “Very pricey, very hard to find. Myself and Issac searched everywhere for black tourmaline spelled by a witch after we were given Amelia. We didn’t want Clarice to ever be able to use magic against us to take her back.”
This was Alpha Vesta’s ring? It shouldn’t be what I’m focusing on right now, but having his ring makes me feel a little more powerful, and a little more connected to Mila, even though I can’t physically feel her now because we never fully reached the potential of our connection. Not being able to sense h
