“You left for a decade.” Avine layered sea magic over his latest sigil, watching the colors merge. “What made you come back?”
Theo’s hands stilled. For a long moment, she thought he wouldn’t answer.
“My father died.” His voice was flat. Careful. “The pack needed an alpha. My uncle Malcolm was tired of leading. And I realized that running away didn’t make me stronger. It only made me lonely somewhere else.”
Avine’s hands paused. “You were running?”
“I thought it was strength. Building an empire somewhere else. Proving I didn’t need the pack, didn’t need anyone.” He met her gaze, and there was a rawness there she hadn’t seen before. “It was cowardice. I couldn’t face what my father had done, couldn’t fight him for leadership, so I left. I spent ten years telling myself I was building a life. I was hiding.”
The confession hung between them. Theo was quiet, but his attention was fully on her now. Not polite interest—real attention, the kind that made her feel seen.
“What did you want?”
The question caught her off guard. People didn’t usually ask what she wanted. They asked what she could do, what she’d accomplished, what she was working on. Not what she wanted.
“I don’t know yet.” She turned back to the stone, uncomfortable with the honesty. “Maybe that’s the point. Maybe I needed to strip everything else away before I could figure it out.”
“That takes courage.” His voice was quiet. “Walking away from everything you know to find out who you are.”
“Or desperation.”
“Sometimes those are the same thing.”
From the armchair, Beck cleared his throat. “This is very touching. Truly. Emotional growth everywhere. But has anyone noticed that the stone is glowing brighter? I think your vulnerability might be supercharging the magic.”
They both looked down. The stone was, in fact, pulsing with unusual intensity.
Avine pulled her hands back. “Huh. That’s new.”
“Emotional resonance.” Theo stood, brushing dust from his knees. “The wards respond to intent. Strong emotions can amplify the magic.”
“So what you’re saying,” Beck interjected helpfully, “is that your mutual emotional processing is literally making the house stronger. That’s adorable. Also terrifying. Mostly adorable.”
Theo shot him a look that should have been lethal.
“Noted.” Beck didn’t look remotely chastened. “But for the record, this is the most entertainment I’ve had in months.”
DayThree
It happened on the third day.
The attic was smaller than the other spaces they’d worked in, the sloped ceiling forcing them closer. Dust motes floated inshafts of afternoon light, and the old wood creaked beneath their feet as they moved between the final set of anchor stones.
Avine was hyper-aware of every accidental brush of shoulders. Every time Theo passed behind her, his warmth cutting through the thin fabric of her sweater. Every breath he took in the quiet space.
They were reinforcing the final stone when their magic started to flow in tandem without effort.
Their magic found each other without ceremony now—turquoise and gold braiding together as if they’d always known how.
Theo’s voice came out strained. “That shouldn’t work.”
“I know.” She didn’t pull back. Neither did he.
“Witch and wolf magic are supposed to be incompatible. Tolerable, maybe. Layered carefully. But this—” He gestured at the stone, where their combined power pulsed in perfect harmony. “—this is different.”
“Yes.” He was looking at her now, not the stone. “Different.”
Avine’s pulse kicked faster. She focused on the work.
