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Jen’s coven hadneverbelieved she was guilty.

The moment she was taken into mortal custody, Ms. Lily Cole—her coven’s formidable, and, according to Lochran, terrifying leader—had led the charge to break her out. They had tried everything—tracking spells, portal magic, even an outright siege attempt—only to find that their powers were utterly useless within the prison walls with Lobato’s magic protecting her hoard.

Frustrated, they had turned to the sheriff of Headless Hollow—the ogre’s predecessor—who had flatly refused to get involved. As far as he was concerned, mortal law had taken over.

And with Jen’s own refusal to see visitors, the coven’s hands had been tied.

So, they had done the only thing left to do. They’d waited, hoping, praying she would return to them when the doors of that prison finally opened for her.

It was... a strange kind of relief to know she hadn’t been truly abandoned. But it didn’t erase what she had felt—the years of isolation, the grief, the belief that the people who raised her had turned their backs.

I gritted my teeth, forcing down the sharp frustration curling in my gut. It didn’t matter now.

What mattered was that she was going home.

Lochran exhaled beside me, his fingers drumming absently against the neck of his beer bottle before lifting it for a silent cheers.

We clinked our bottles together, drinking in comfortable silence for a long moment, the only sounds between us the crackle of flames, the distant hum of night creatures, and the occasional burst of laughter from our mates.

Finally, Lochran let out a huff of air, shaking his head. “So,” he mused, tilting his beer toward me. “Uncle to a baby orc, huh?”

At just the mention of Theo, my body groaned in phantom exhaustion. “I don’t know how Rowan does it. That child is a walking hurricane of pure, unfiltered energy.”

Lochran chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. “Yeah? Well, I think dealing with a five-year-old orc might be easier than dealing with the alpha wolf shifter currently wreaking havoc in my house.” He shook his head. “Love Billy to bits, but if she hasn’t admitted to Lex’s brother that they’re mates by the time we get back, we’re switching covens.”

I frowned. “Isn’t she your alpha now?”

Lochran’s smirk wavered. He cast me a slow, warning look, his brows raising in mock disapproval. “Technically.”

I grinned, feeling the joke before it even left my lips. “So... what? Do you have to take her for a walk, rub her belly, and tell her she’s a good girl?”

For a second, there was silence.

Then Lochran let out a startled bark of laughter, choking on his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, shaking his head. “Was that a joke? Devlin—” He pointed his bottle at me, squinting as if I were a stranger. “The Devlin who has been chronically glum for the last nine years?”

I shrugged, but my lips twitched into something softer, something unshakably content. I took another slow sip of beer, casting a glance down at Jen, her entire body lit with happiness as she listened to Lex. “What can I say? My mate brings it out of me.”

Lochran’s smirk faded into something genuine. His violet eyes flicked toward Lex, watching her with unmasked devotion as she spoke animatedly, her curls bouncing as she gestured wildly.

“Yeah,” he murmured, more to himself than to me. “I get that.”

For a long moment, we just watched them.

Our witches.

Lochran took another lazy sip of his drink before muttering, “Well, I guess that just leaves Ambrose and Blaise.”