“Andthis,” Bea says, not missing a beat as she sets the trays down beside the pastry boxes, “is why nobody listens to either of you.”
Lin gasps, one hand flying to her chest like she’s been mortally wounded. “Excuse you?—”
“You are excused,” Bea cuts in smoothly, her tone final, before turning her attention to me with a warm smile that crinkles the corners of her eyes. She gestures behind her with one hand. “Keisha, this is my sister, Zane.”
Zane steps forward with a polite smile, and I take her in properly, giving her the kind of attention she deserves rather than just a passing glance. She’s taller than I expect for sixteen, all long limbs and quiet confidence, the kind of height that probably made middle school awkward but now just makes her striking. Her dark hair falls sleek and straight down her back like it belongs in a magazine spread. There’s something luminous about her, something just beneath the surface that makes the air around her feel slightly different, charged in a way that has nothing to do with static electricity.
“She’s coming into her powers,”Sir says before I can fully register the power radiating from her, his voice settling into my mind with the casual authority of someone stating an obvious fact.
“Yep, magic. I can definitely feel it,” I reply back to him without missing a beat. After weeks of study and practice, after hours spent with Ezra learning to sense and control what’s been locked inside me all this time, I’ve become attuned to it in ways I never thought possible.
It hums faintly around her, soft but present, like it hasn’t fully decided what it wants to be yet, like it’s still figuring out its own nature. The sensation is different from mine, lighter, somehow, less grounded, but no less real.
“Hi,” she says, her voice calm and self-assured, carrying none of the awkwardness I would have expected from someone her age. She meets my eyes directly, and I can see intelligence there, awareness that goes deeper than her years should allow.
“Hi,” I return, smiling warmly because she deserves that, deserves to be welcomed into this space without reservation. “Welcome to the chaos. We’re all a little cuckoo around here.”
“She’ll fit right in,” Toni mutters from somewhere behind me.
“I heard that,” Zane says dryly, her expression not changing but something flickering in her eyes that might be amusement.
Bea exhales, already resigned to whatever fresh chaos her sister is about to unleash on the world. “Of course you did.”
The shop fills slowly after that, the space transforming from empty to occupied in degrees rather than all at once.
Energy builds in layers, not overwhelming but enough that it settles into something warm and real. Maceo arrives with family in tow, his presence fills the space before he even says a word, before the bell finishes chiming. The resemblance is immediate and striking, shared features, shared coloring, that same striking blend of heritages that shows in the lines of their faces and the shades of their eyes, in the way they move and hold themselves. Each one of them is absolutely stunning in their own way, and I have to actively stop myself from staring. It’s in the water, I’m sure of it. Something magical about the Johnson bloodline that has nothing to do with shifting and everything to do with genetics being unfairly generous.
He finds me easily, like I’m magnetic north and he’s been calibrated to find me in any crowd. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me close, leaving absolutely no room for the holy spirit or anyone else to slip between us.
“Hey,” he says, and leans in to press a kiss to my cheek, the gesture casual and possessive all at once. I flush from theattention of the people waiting patiently behind him, watching this display with varying degrees of amusement and approval.
Introductions follow, easy and natural, names exchanged and hands shaken without ceremony or awkwardness. They tease Maceo about how much he’s talked about me. “Couldn’t shut him up,” one of his cousins says with a grin, and how they already felt like they knew me before ever meeting me, like I’d been part of the family conversation for weeks now. Maceo stays beside me the entire time, his arm never leaves my waist, and he smiles down at me with so much adoration I don’t know what to do with myself, don’t know where to put all the warmth spreading through my chest. For a few minutes I let myself settle into it, let myself sink into the reality of being included in something that already feels established and solid, something that doesn’t require me to prove myself or earn my place.
Lucien arrives not long after, composed as ever, moving through the growing crowd effortlessly. He smiles when he spots me beside Maceo, something soft and genuine lighting up his eyes. He grabs a drink from a nearby table and closes the distance between us. Leaning in to greet me, he brushes a kiss against my other cheek, his lips warm and deliberate, lingering just a heartbeat longer than necessary.
“You look beautiful, Sweetness,” he whispers as he pulls away, the words meant only for me, taking his place on my other side like it was always meant to be his.
“You two need to stop with the PDA,” I mutter under my breath, fanning my overheated face with my hand because the flush is spreading down my neck now. Eyes are on us from every corner of the room. “I’m on fire here.”
“This is your grand reopening, Ki-Ki,” Maceo says, giving my waist a quick squeeze so I’m acutely aware of every point of contact between us. “The town may as well know you’re spoken for. Not only by me, but Luce and Ez as well.”
“How very eighteenth century of you, Wolfie,” I snort in amusement, even as something warm and satisfied settles deeper in my chest at the casual claiming, at the way he says it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Maceo just grins, completely unfazed. He reaches for Lucien’s drink without asking, taking a slow sip, licking the rim before handing it back. His fingers drag briefly along Lucien’s jaw as he does. Lucien’s eyes half-close for a second, like he’s savoring the contact, but doesn’t comment.
My breath catches at the display of affection. Yeah, that was not subtle.
“Relax, Beautiful,” he says, winking those gorgeous greens at me. “We just don’t have a problem sharing.”
“Not with each other,” Lucien adds, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.
I blink, my eyes shifting between them, a little thrown by how casually they say it.
“Right,” I manage. “Of course, because sharing is caring.”
Lucien laughs, and the sound brushes over me like silk, relaxing me further as I scan the room and spot my third and final piece to the puzzle.
Ezra lingers closer to the shelves at first, observant and quiet like always, watching everything with that analytical attention that misses nothing. His attention tracks me more than anything else, subtle and constant. The weight of his gaze presses against me even when I’m not looking directly at him. I want to beckon him closer, want to pull him into this warmth the way Maceo and Lucien have placed themselves, but knowing Ezra, he’s happiest exactly where he is, observing and cataloging, present in his own way.
