PROLOGUE
Once upon a time,a witch decided to build a library of magical books. She traveled the country in an RV with her younger sister, seeking out texts about mythical creatures as well as abandoned grimoires.
Soon, the sisters had so many books that there was no room to sleep in the camper. The two witches were tired of traveling. They wanted to find a place to stay.
A place where the books could be shared with others.
A place to call home.
There were whispers of a small town in northern Georgia, tucked away in the Chattahoochee National Forest, near the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. In this town, supposedly, more mythical creatures lived there than humans.
The town was called Folk Haven.
The witches arrived, and through deals and persuasion, they bought an old Victorian house, perched on the edge of a lake. The house used to belong to a dragon, and some of the creature’s magic lingered in the walls.
But this only made the house more to their liking.
Soon, all the books were on shelves, and the Folk Haven Public Mythic Library was open.
However, no place was perfect. Folk Haven had its own secrets and prejudices.
And sitting next to the magical library was a collection of metal statues that intrigued the elder sister. The inanimate objects had so many emotions clinging to them that they almost felt alive.
Then, one day, she realized that one of them was …
1
Mor
“Breakinga curse is starting to feel like a family tradition,” I murmur as I trudge through the woods toward the statue garden that sits beside my library. My three siblings and my brother-in-law follow close behind.
When my sister and I first moved to Folk Haven—a small town in northern Georgia, known among mythical creatures as a safe place to build a life—I expected to spend most of my days sorting books and helping others with their research. That was why I’d spent so much time collecting magical texts. I’d wanted to simply be a keeper of knowledge.
But now I’m the third witch in my family with the self-assigned task to free an unfortunate soul from a curse.
“Yes. Exactly.” My brother Anthony jogs to catch up with me, his arms full of a pewter cauldron. “I was thinking that, too, and it’s freaking me out. Like, when is a mythic, trapped by an evil enchantment, going to stumble intomylife and need me to save them? Is someone going to try cursing Zara?” He names theharpy and veterinarian he fell in love with not long ago. The two of them met when she rescued him from a snake.
Turns out, the reptile was Anthony’s familiar, so he was never actually in any danger. Witches tend to find an animal companion at some point in their life, and the creature acts as a comfort and protector.
Of the four Shelly children, I’m the only one who hasn’t encountered mine yet.
I’m also the only one without a partner.
“Being mated to you is curse enough, I’d say,” Broderick offers, smirking at his twin, then dodging away with a bark of laughter as Anthony tries to kick him.
Sometimes, I forget they’re grown men. Around each other, they slip back into teenage antics.
“Do you think the creature will try to kiss you?”
I halt in my tracks and turn to stare at my sister, Ame. All of us Shelly siblings have rich red hair, but where my brothers and I are tall, she’s relatively short. And while I have plenty of curves, Ame is on the slight side. In general, she gives off an air of vulnerability, though in practice, she’s got some impressively powerful magic.
Still, everyone in her life seems to have the unconscious urge to protect her. My need to keep her safe is only surpassed by one other.
Her mate, my brother-in-law, Jack.
The werewolf, who claims my sister as his, holds her hand now and carries most of the spell ingredients in a large satchel over his shoulder. He’s the strongest of our lot, and he volunteered to transport the heaviest load.
“Why,” I ask Ame, my voice tight with trepidation, “do you think the creature will try to kiss me?” An unbidden image of cold metal lips pressed against mine flashes through my thoughts, and I shudder.
