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But it was home.

“Temporary,” I corrected myself in a sing-song voice, moving to the kitchen while Orion trailed after me on his massive paws, chirping in agreement. Someday I was going to have a real career with a real future, and we’d find a home of our own with a bright little patch of flowers in the front.

Because I had goals, dammit.

Deva’s death may have left me bereft of human companionship, but I’d promised to give living a shot. So after the paperwork was settled, I’d packed whatever I could into the back of her beat-up station wagon and moved Orion and me to Glenoakes, a college town tucked in the forests of upstate New York.

Why Glenoakes? I still didn’t fully know. Deva told me to follow my heart—stressed that like it was just as crucial as keeping gas in the car if I wanted to go anywhere—so when I pulled out a map and pointed a finger, I’d let unseen forces guide me like an Ouija board. The result could have been far worse than the little city with a 25-square-mile footprint. It was big enough to have a college, small enough to still have trees. And after completing all of my primary education online, the idea of finally learning in a classroom environment was actually exhilarating.

And terrifying.

But mostly exhilarating.

Glenoakes College was so small that on-campus housing was extremely limited, so I hadn’t been all that surprised when they’d told me the dorms were full. They probably wouldn’t have let me keep Orion anyway. But I was able to sublet this studio apartment, furnished with the basics and within walking distance. It was old and crumbling, with questionable appliances and lights that flickered, but we were making do.

In just six weeks, I’d be joining the wave of freshmen for the fall semester. I’d be a couple of years older than most of them, but everyone between eighteen and twenty-five looked the same age, right? I was twenty, not sixty.

Once Orion was happily scarfing his fancy canned breakfast, I headed for my yoga mat and queued up a quick flow on my favorite app. It wasn’t a perfect fix, but sometimes that zen mindset helped. I could keep my emotions in check and reel my dark magic back before it wreaked havoc. Deva called it finding the calm in the storm, visualizing a serene bubble while the tempest raged around me.

Plus, after years of regular practice, I was pretty fit and flexible. So there’s that.

After my last sun salutation, the sweat was starting to bead on the back of my neck, and I didn’t mind the inevitable lackluster shower. Getting limbered up was almost a requirement for functioning in the world’s smallest bathroom anyway. A pedestal sink, a toilet, and a shower stall. No tub and no cupboards. At least there was a mirror on the wall.

I twisted the knob in the shower, and while the water struggled to spurt out and warm up, I stole a glance at my reflection in the chipped mirror. Electric blue eyes framed by thick lashes popped against the muted ivory of my skin. They were my favorite feature, closely followed by my midnight hair and the shimmering strands of blue threaded throughout the waves.

Perks of knowing a witch—real permanent hair color.

The glint of the moonstone pendant against my sternum caught my eye, and I traced it with a fingertip. Deva had given it to me shortly after I moved in with her. She’d said that it would protect me. That it would help suppress the magic. That I should never take it off.

But even with the sparkling white stone around my neck, I struggled to find control. And when the list of emotional triggers evolved on the day of my first kiss, I swore I’d never take those kinds of risks again. My heart couldn’t bear the guilt, especially now after losing Deva. So I was going to stick to my rules:

No touching.

No attachments.

No exceptions. Ever.

The upbeat tone of my morning alarm finally caught up to the moment, echoing in the small space. No more time for pining or pity.

You can always move forward; you just have to be brave enough to take the step.

That had been Deva’s answer when I asked how I was supposed to keep going without her. So I would be brave. Coming to Glenoakes was my step. I could only hope it was in the right direction.

I showered quickly under the tepid fall of water while the pipes inside the wall made a worrisome groaning noise. I’d have to put in a maintenance request for someone to check the water heater and plumbing. Again.

Towel wrapped around my five-foot-five frame, I padded the few steps over to the kitchen to start the kettle. Orion was back in the window, salivating over the bird that just landed in the tree nearby.

“Someday, baby,” I told him as he lashed his tail. I pulled open the bi-fold door on the closet that held my clothes and pondered my options. I never had much in the way of a wardrobe—never needed much when I didn’t go anywhere—but after finding a job, I’d had to add a little more variety than just leggings and long-sleeved tees.

By the time I was dressed in a pair of fitted black jeans and a wide-necked balloon-sleeved top with a lace cutout, the kettle was just starting to whistle. I rushed to stop it before the shriek could spook Orion or irritate my neighbors. Thin walls. I pulled my travel mug off the drying rack and filled a steeping ball with a Lady Grey blend.

The black tea and citrus smell brought back memories of mornings with Deva, sipping tea—never coffee—on the balcony of her high-rise apartment in the city. My chest squeezed, my eyes going to the elaborate crystal sun-catcher that was hanging in the window. It had been one of her favorites, each crystal representing a part of her and her connection to natural magic. Watching the rainbow light it cast on the walls eased some of the ache in my soul.

So did Orion when he jumped down from the window to wind around my legs. I crouched and gave him a good scratch under the chin. “See you later, sweet boy.”

My day job to save money for school was at the city library downtown. I figured if I was going to have to keep working while I was taking classes, it may as well be somewhere that I could study or do homework when it was slow. It also didn’t hurt that it was rarely crowded, and it typically put a counter between me and the general public.

I could have driven the six blocks, but Deva’s ancient wood-paneled station wagon barely survived the journey to Glenoakes. Until I had money for repairs or a replacement, I was saving that beast for emergencies only. Thankfully, there was a great bus system around the city, but I loved to walk through the charming downtown with its tree-lined streets as often as I could.