“I don’t think he’s ready for the complete bond yet,” I hedged, “but it’s growing already. And we’re... getting there.”
I focused on the fire in Tabitha’s hearth as it crackled with that deep, contented sound only old magick made—the kind that had burned through countless winters and whispered through a dozen secrets. Her apartment always smelled like sage and rain-soaked wood, and somehow that made my heart both settle and twist.
Tabitha studied me, her hands folded on her lap. She didn’t speak right away. She never did. She just watched me with those calm, knowing eyes until the silence stretched so thin it forced the truth out of me.
“I think I’m in trouble,” I said finally.
Her brows rose, just slightly. “The magickal kind, or the kind with a heartbeat?”
I groaned, sinking back in the chair. “The second one. Maybe both, actually.”
Tabitha smiled, the corners of her mouth curving in that maddeningly patient way. “Ah. Heisthe one, then.”
“Why do you think I’m right?” I asked, nibbling on my lower lip.
“You light up when you say his name,” she told me with a small smile. It was sadder than I was used to from her.
I looked down at my hands. From where our fingers had barely touched, but it was almost like he’d branded them with his skin. “He’s… different. He’s quiet, and sometimes it’s like he’s not even here. But when heis—” I stopped, swallowing and trying to ignore the heat rising in my chest. “It’s like everything else fades into the background. I can’t breathe right. I can’t even think.”
“That’s attraction,” Tabitha said gently. “Happens to the best of us.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s more than that. When he’s close, the air hums. Mymagickhums. I can feel it under my skin like it’s trying to reach for him.” The fine hairs on my arm and legs stood up at the mention of the way he made me feel.
Her expression softened, but her gaze sharpened with quiet recognition. “And you’resurehe might be your true mate?”
I nodded, my throat tight, even as I admitted, “I don’tknow. Grandma used to say you’d feel it like a pull. Like gravity. But what if I’m just imagining it? What if I want it to be real so badly that I’m mistaking wishful thinking for something else?”
Tabitha reached out to me, her hand warm and grounding on mine. “Magick doesn’t lie, Hanna. It can be loud or subtle, but itneverlies. If your power reacts to him, it’s telling you something.Whether that something is love, fate, or a warning… only time will tell.”
I looked up, meeting her eyes. “And what if I’m wrong?”
She smiled faintly, eyes crinkling.
“Then you’ll have loved bravely. There are worse mistakes to make,” she told me.
For a moment, the wind outside caught in the trees, a low sigh through the leaves. I felt it against my skin—that same hum, that same pulse I couldn’t name.
“I won’t saylove,” I gasped, unable to catch my breath at the thought.
I can’t. Please, heart, don’t do this to me yet. Wait until he’s ready, too.
I thought of Savla’s hands, steady and sure even when he wouldn’t meet my gaze. Of the way his voice dropped when he said my name. Of how the world seemed sharper, brighter, when he was near. And the certainty that I’d experience a moment ago fell apart at the seams.
“But I think my magick’s already chosen,” I whispered.
Tabitha squeezed my hand once, firm and kind. “Then all that’s left, sweetheart, is to see if he’s chosen, too.”
I hadn’t expected her to suggest it so soon.
After my confession, I thought Tabitha might give me one of her gentle smiles and tell me to meditate or write my feelings in moonlight ink—something that would take weeks. Something safe.
But instead, she rose from her chair, her long hair swinging as she crossed to the old oak cabinet near the hearth.
“If you truly think your magick’s chosen,” she said, “then let’s see if it speaks.”
My stomach dropped immediately. “You mean—right now?”
Her eyes glinted with quiet amusement. “Magick doesn’t wait for our convenience, sweetheart.”
