I woke before the sun, tangled in Keegan’s arm like some sort of romantic pretzel, a stack of books threatening to fall off the side of the bed, and a half-dried trail of highlighter across my forearm where I’d apparently fallen asleep mid-magical-theory paragraph about closing the circle.
I was going to get this right.
Keegan, unfairly warm for a man who looked carved from late-autumn shadows most days, breathed against the back of my neck. His arm lay heavy over my waist. His leg was thrown across mine. He was basically a weighted blanket with cheekbones.
And normally? Normally, that weight grounded me.
Today, my chest was already tight.
The circle.
A few days away.
And the priestess’s face fractured through the mirror like a promise waiting to be broken.
I slid a hand out from under Keegan’s, rummaging blindly for the nearest book without waking him. My fingers brushed the cover ofConvergences of Lineage and Time: Circle Magic Through Rites and Bondand pulled it onto my chest.
If the title alone didn’t cause hair loss, the text inside would.
Careful not to disturb the man currently preventing gravity from doing terrible things to my emotions, I tilted the lamp on the bedside table to the lowest setting. Soft amber spilled across the book.
I read.
“A circle closes at strength proportional to the participating anchors. A weakened or unwilling anchor destabilizes the entire structure.”
Unwilling.
The priestess’s warning echoed through me—Your circle is a child’s toy drawn in dust.
The rites will not respect it.
Gideon’s hint:In five days, the circle…
Elira’s face pulled away…Maeve, listen, she is not—
Not what.
Not who.
Not done?
I pressed my forehead into the book.
“This is ridiculous,” I muttered.
“Mm,” Keegan rumbled behind me, voice gravelly with sleep. “Books don’t usually get cursed until after breakfast.”
I startled. “Did I wake you?”
“No.” His arm tightened around my middle. “Your heartbeat did.”
He nuzzled into my shoulder like a sleepy wolf pretending not to be the deadliest thing in the room. I hated how reassuring that felt.
“You’re anxious,” he murmured into my hair.
“I have the right,” I said, flipping the book closed. “Grandmother number one tried to warn me through a mirror before being hijacked by grandmother number two, who used crystal shattering as punctuation. Gideon is behaving like he’s auditioning for an antihero award. The circle is in a few days, and I can’t tell if we’re about to save the world or accidentally open another door that should stay shut.”
Keegan stretched, muscles shifting against me, then sat up enough to look at my face.
