Nova ignored that with the grace of a seer who had long ago accepted that her life would be filled with goblins, vampires, and everything in between. “The Wilds have been watching theedges. They’ve been steadying the places where the circle will need to hold. It’s rare for them to roll out a welcome like this.”
Ardetia’s gaze softened. “Nature’s ability to read the rights and wrongs of the world never ceases to amaze me.”
Bella’s mouth tilted into a sharp grin. “Well, the Wilds do enjoy a good moment.”
Keegan made a low sound that might’ve been agreement, though his attention stayed on Nova. He was always listening for the hidden hook in a sentence.
Nova’s green eyes found mine. “If everyone still trusts allowing Gideon on the property, then the process can begin.”
There it was again.
It wasn’t a command or a proclamation. It was a hinge, waiting for us to step through, but it could swing either way.
After all, this wasn’t the first time we stepped into the Wilds expecting an outcome that never came.
Twobble rocked on his heels, looking like someone who’d been asked to vote on whether or not to invite a bear into a bakery. “Trust is a strong word.”
Stella’s eyes flashed. “Trust is aridiculousword.”
Nova’s mouth twitched. “And yet, here we are.”
Stella swept forward, shawl flowing, rings catching the light like small warnings. “May I say something as the oldest, wisest, and most offended being in this hallway?”
“Oldest is debatable,” Nova said under her breath, and I realized how little I knew about Nova’s past, by her design, of course.
“Don’t encourage her,” Twobble stage-whispered to Bella.
Bella stage-whispered back, “It’s too late. She’s already in the spotlight.”
Stella planted her hands on her hips.
“The Priestess,” she said, drawing the title out like it tasted bitter, “has the audacity to roll into Stonewick and act as if she can pluck people out of our town like she’s selecting pastries at a bakery.”
Twobble gasped. “How dare she. Pastries should be selected with care.”
Stella shot him a look that could have curdled cream. “Not pastries, you menace. People.”
“I’m just saying,” Twobble said, offended, “the metaphor is flawed. If she tried to pluck pastries from my bakery, I’d bite her.”
“I would also bite her,” Stella said smoothly, then narrowed her eyes. “But that’s not the point. The point is that she treated us like we were hers to move. Hers to claim. As if Stonewick is some loose little village without teeth.”
Keegan’s mouth twitched. “Stonewick has teeth.”
“And claws,” Stella added. “And it has me. Which, frankly, is more than enough. I’m going to be so glad when this circle is closed, and this whole business is behind us. I intend to spend three uninterrupted days drinking tea and judging strangers for fun like the old days.”
Nova nodded solemnly. “A noble goal.”
Stella softened for a heartbeat, then snapped right back. “And I’d like to stop living in a world where shadow priestesses believe they can stroll up and snag whoever they please.”
The wordsnaghung there, sharp as a hook.
My birthmark gave a quiet throb. An unsettling reminder that my body understood more than my mind had caught up to.
Before I could chase that thought, footsteps rounded the corner—heavier, human, and familiar.
My dad appeared, shoulders squared, expression alert in that way he got when he was pretending not to be protective. He looked like a man who’d spent a chunk of his life on four legs and hadn’t entirely stopped scanning the world from bulldog height.
“You’re all talking about Gideon like he’s not currently out there breathing,” my dad said, voice dry. “So, I brought you an update.”
