“They weren’t speaking to the theme,” Elle huffs. “Gold. Evergreen. Legacy. Family. I refuse to apologize for having vision.”
The sisters bicker, warm and familiar, their back-and-forth settling around me like a quilt I didn’t realize I’d been cold without.
New couples slip onto the dance floor. Candles drift overhead. A soft haze of gold magic hums along the walls. Every part of this estate breathes Bellamy history.
Elle turns back to me, expression suddenly softer, more earnest beneath the glamour. “It’s good to have youhometonight, Pipes.”
Emotion tightens in my throat, unexpected and sharp. “It’s good tobehome.”
She squeezes my hand, just once, then whispers, “I’m so happy for you,” before stepping aside to greet someone calling her name.
Slade’s hand slides into mine.
The orchestra swells, violins threading through the air like ribbon. The ballroom glows with Yule warmth—family laughter, clinking glasses, enchanted garlands twinkling with frostlight.
And for a moment, just one shimmering breath of time, everything inside me settles.
The curse still coils beneath my skin. The choice still waits. Danger still hums like a distant storm.
But surrounded by Rhea’s fierce loyalty, Elle’s bright warmth, my family’s chaotic love, and Slade’s steady devotion—I feel something I haven’t felt in a very long time.
Not fear, or even dread. Nor the weight of my family’s legacy.
But…belonging.
Slade leansdown, brushing a kiss to my temple, his breath warm against my skin. “Ready?” he murmurs.
I look around—the glowing room, the swirling magic, the people I’ve always loved—and then up at him.
“Yes,” I whisper, heart steady.
Because for the first time, I know without hesitation…
I am exactly where I’m meant to be.
Chapter 30
Slade
The Bellamy estate glows like it remembers what joy feels like.
Warm candlelight drifts through garlands of evergreen and gold ribbon, each strand humming faint pulses of old magic—Bellamy magic, familial and bright. Frostlight charms hang likesuspended stars above the ballroom, casting shifting halos across velvet gowns and tailored suits.
And for the first time in centuries, I am surrounded by witches who are not afraid of me.
Not because they misunderstand what I am—oh, they knowexactlywhat I am—but because tonight, I amhers. Piper’s. And they see that as something worth celebrating.
My fingers brush her waist as we move through the crowd, her evergreen gown clinging lovingly to every curve. She glows under the lights. The gold snowflake belt at her waist catches every flicker of candlelight, throwing little sparks across the room like she’s wearing a constellation.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” she murmurs, eyes bright.
More than she realizes.
“Yes,” I say simply, because anything more would spill into poetry I’m not ready to embarrass myself with. “Your family is… overwhelming.”
Piper laughs, the sound slipping down my spine like warm wine. “Oh, trust me, they’re on their best behavior tonight.”
Best behavior involves three different aunts trying to charm protective spells into my pocket, a group of cousins debating whether I shed, and Uncle Rowan loudly asking how many wings I can summon at full power.
