Page 24

“When does she not look like she's carrying the world?” Aggy laughed, tossing a bundle of sage at me as she walked in behind Kingy. I caught it mid-air without looking, a small flick of my will, tethering the herbs so they floated gently down onto the display.

Mia followed them in, her hair tucked under a beanie, her hands already busy with a handheld scanner. “Wards are buzzing, Ivy. You’ve had some heavy traffic lately.”

Lola slipped in last, silent and elegant, closing the door behind her with a soft click. The four of them—my Inner Circle—moved toward the backroom. I needed them. I needed their noise to drown out the memory of those monsters.

The backroom was my sanctuary, smelling of dried lavender, iron, and old paper. We settled in, and I went to work. I rested my hand on the teapot, letting a spark of my core heat the porcelain until the water inside began to boil.

“Show-off,” Mia murmured with a wink, opening her laptop to sync with my shop’s sensors.

We spent the afternoon sharing spells and, more importantly, reinforcing the shop. I helped Aggy calibrate a warding charm for her garden while Kingy helped me translate a difficult passage in a text I'd 'found'. My magic was usually like this, precise, quiet, and controlled. It was a scalpel, not a sledgehammer. Using it to fight Kael or Lucien would have been like trying to put out a forest fire with a fountain pen.

I carefully navigated the conversation, keeping the memory of last night tucked away, but I couldn’t help glancing at the window now and then, imagining claws and fur. Two shapeshifters, and I was supposed to pretend nothing had happened?

The afternoon faded into a warm, amber glow as Aggy, Lola, Mia, and Kingy finally packed up their things. Their laughter lingered in the air even after they departed, leaving the shop feeling cavernously quiet in their wake. I leaned against the counter for a moment, savouring the silence.

Gilded Leaf and Business

Lucien did not look like a predator today. He looked like a billionaire on a rare holiday, leaning against his sleek, charcoal-grey Porsche, in a tailored suit that cost more than Moonveil’s entire inventory. He looked at me as I stepped out of the shop, his amber eyes tracking my movement with a quiet, appreciative intensity that made my breath hitch.

"Thanks for taking my call and getting a friend to mind your store, Ivy," he said, his voice a velvet command that seemed to vibrate through the pavement. "We need to talk and connect, and I promise, it is just coffee. No talk of shards. No talk of wolves or pumas. Just coffee and a moment of humanity."

I offered a small, hesitant smile as he held the car door open for me. We ended up in a corner booth of The Gilded Leaf, a café tucked away in a quiet alley that smelled of roasted beans, old wood, and forgotten secrets. The noise of Ebonvale’s busy streets felt a world away.

To my surprise, we did not talk about the brawl in the alley or the looming threat of the coven. Instead, we talked about the local theatre’s latest production of The Midnight Masque.

"I heard the lead soprano is actually a High-Tier siren hiding in plain sight," I said, leaning forward as I watched the steam rise from my cup. "The reviews say her voice can literally stop a heart."

Lucien chuckled, a low, melodic sound that settled in my chest. "A siren in Ebonvale? That would explain why the ticket prices are so astronomical. People are paying for the enchantment as much as the aria. I prefer the orchestra myself. There is a certain precision in the strings that magic can never quite replicate."

We drifted from theatre to rare first editions, discussing how the coven had slowly strangled the joy out of Ebonvale’s architecture, replacing the whimsical stone carvings of the past with sterile, grey monoliths. As we talked, the atmosphere shifted. I found myself looking at his hands—warrior’s hands with thick, strong fingers—disguised by gentleman's cuffs. I remembered them on my skin, and the memory made the back of my neck prickle.

I reached across the table, my fingers accidentally brushing his. The contact was electric, giving me a sharp jolt of awareness that made my pulse jump. Lucien did not pull away. He turned his hand over, his palm warm as he caught my fingers, his thumb tracing a slow, deliberate circle over my knuckles. The heat in his gaze was no longer just polite interest. It was a smouldering, amber fire.

"You are so much more than the suit, aren’t you, Lucien?" I whispered, my voice sounding foreign to my own ears.

His eyes flared, the predatory light returning just for a second. "And you are so much more than a low-tier witch, Ivy. You are a puzzle I find myself increasingly desperate to solve."

The ride back to the shop was silent, but the air in the car was thick enough to choke on. Every time he shifted gears, his arm brushed mine, and the tension in the vehicle became a physical force. By the time we reached the kerb, my heart was hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

We didn't say a word as we climbed the stairs to my flat above the shop. The moment the door clicked shut and the lock turned, the 'business' of coffee was over. Lucien pinned me against the dark wood of the door, his large hands framing my face as his mouth found mine.

It was a hunger that proved our connection was more than just magical. It was inevitable. He kissed me with a refined, desperate passion, his body a solid weight against mine that made me forget the shard, the coven, and the world outside entirely. In the quiet of my flat, amidst the scent of bergamot and desire, I stopped fighting the inevitable and let two dangerous worlds finally collide.

Diamonds and Margaritas

The Friday night air was crisp, but inside my flat above the shop, the atmosphere was a chaotic blend of bubbling cheese, strong tequila, and the rhythmic clicking of plastic gems. Aggy, Lola and Mia had arrived like a whirlwind, officially declaring a ‘no-shard zone’ for the evening.

"Wards are locked, sensors are silent, and I am officially off the clock," Mia announced, tossing her beanie onto the couch and heading straight for the kitchen. "Now, where is the gin? I was promised homemade margaritas, and I intend to hold you to that, Ivy."

We spent the first hour in a blur of activity. Aggy oversaw the pizzas, stretching the dough with a practised hand while Lola carefully sliced fresh basil. I stood at the counter, shaking a tin of lime juice and tequila until my arms ached. By the time we settled onto the rug in the living room, the coffee table was a disaster of flour, crusts, and thousands of tiny, sparkling diamond-shaped dots for the craft project Mia had insisted on.

"So," Aggy said, her eyes twinkling over the rim of her glass as she leaned back against the sofa. "Tell us about yesterday. How was the... coffee?"

I felt the heat climb up my neck instantly. "It was fine. We talked about theatre... and architecture."

"Oh, I bet you did," Mia cackled, accidentally nudging a tray of blue diamond dots and sending a shimmering wave of them across the floorboards. "Did he show you his... rare editions? Was he good at 'coffee', Ivy? Because that man looks like he knows exactly how to brew a very intense cup."

Lola leaned in, her usual elegance replaced by a mischievous grin. "The real question is, how big are we talking? In terms of the... library, of course."