1
Marigold
I TWISTED MY FATHER’S RING on its chain as I scanned the crowd at the Denver airport. The weight was familiar, comforting—something I’d worn since before I even knew I was a witch.
One month. That’s all that had passed since we’d exposed the conspiracy and healed the academy’s wellspring. Since the Lightfords escaped. Since Lord Raynoff scrambled to form the emergency council and started gluing the government back together.
The college extended winter break through January—officially to give students time to recover with their families. Unofficially? It gave them time to figure out how to pretend things were stable again.
One month since I’d left for Albany to try and fix things with my mom.
Yet it felt like a year.
I caught sight of two familiar figures waiting near the arrival screens.
Keane spotted me first. I could tell by the way his posture shifted, the almost-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He looked like himself again—tall and lean in charcoal layers, his black hair falling into those blue eyes that always saw too much.
Beside Keane stood Elio. From a distance, he looked the same, like the perfect blond pretty boy. But up close, the polish had cracked. His shirt was wrinkled, one cuff half-unbuttoned. Small things, but they hit hard. Like the shine had worn off while he sifted through his parents’ secrets and tried to carry what was left.
Then Elio looked up and saw me.
Marigold! His voice carried across the crowd—warm and unguarded. His familiar shifted on his shoulder, Echo's crystalline scales blooming into happy blues and greens.
That did it. My feet moved before I could think. I dropped my duffel and ran.
They didn’t hesitate. Keane opened his arms, and Elio met me halfway. I crashed into both of them, enveloped in their embrace. For a second, everything was still. My chest ached with it.
Wisp shimmered into view at Keane’s feet, more solid than I’d seen her since the corruption. Scout chattered from my pocket, his tiny skull nose twitching.
I missed you, I whispered.
We missed you too, Elio said, his hand brushing my hair—tentative and careful, like he wasn’t sure he was allowed.
I held them both for a moment, letting myself feel the rightness of us.
Keane’s lips brushed my temple. Welcome home.
Warmth bloomed just under my ribs, slow and real. The words shouldn’t have meant as much as they did.
Was Wickem home now? Or was it just them?
My heart kicked hard, like it didn’t know which direction to pull.
Keane was steady beside me. Elio still felt like something delicate I was trying not to drop. And Cyrus… he’d left heat and silence in equal measure. One night. One month of nothing.
It was a lot. Too much, maybe. And I still didn’t know if wanting them all meant I could actually hold any of it together.
I shook my thoughts away as we stepped back. Elio went to grab my bag while Keane slid an easy arm around my waist. I leaned into him.
Home. I was home.
I couldn’t wait to get back to campus and check on everyone. I’d kept in touch with Keane, Elio, and Aurora. Lucas had called a couple times—mostly to make terrible jokes about his winter training regimen and casually pretend he wasn’t worried about any of us.
But Cyrus was complicated. And Raven…
Raven hadn’t called. Hadn’t texted. Hadn’t answered any of my messages. A whole month of silence.
Lucas said she was fine—just dealing with family stuff—but I’d heard the hesitation in his voice. He was worried too.
