Page 17 of Bewitched by the Fruit Bat King (The Bewitching Hour #3)

Seeds of Something New

Willow

T he tires of Bethany's jeep crunch over the gravel road leading to Haven's Harvest, each revolution bringing me closer to the spot where Marcus tried to.

.. No. I'm not thinking about that today.

This is supposed to be fun - pumpkin picking with my friends, preparation for the fall festival, normal autumn activities that don't involve vampire attacks or mate bonds or ancient family curses.

"Earth to Willow," Luna sings from the back seat, leaning forward to poke my shoulder. "You're doing that thousand-yard stare thing again."

"Sorry," I mumble, forcing a smile. "Just thinking about which pumpkin I'm going to demolish in the carving contest this year."

Bethany snorts, steering us into the parking area. "Please. My mermaid pumpkin is going to crush your sad little witch hat design from last year."

"It was a cauldron, not a hat," I protest, grateful for the distraction. "And I've been planning this year's design for months."

The parking lot is already filling with families eager for that perfect Instagram-worthy pumpkin patch experience. Haven's Harvest does autumn spectacularly well - I have to give Kane credit for that, even if admitting he's good at anything makes me irrationally annoyed.

As we climb out of the jeep, I catch sight of the eastern greenhouse in the distance - now fully repaired, no sign of the destruction from a few weeks ago.

But I remember. My breath catches as the memories flood back: Marcus's attacks, lunging at Kane, the way he lunged at me with those terrible empty eyes. ..

"Hey." Luna's voice is gentle, her hand warm on my arm. "You okay? We can do this another day if it's too soon."

I shake my head, squaring my shoulders. "I'm fine. It's just a farm. With pumpkins. And cider. And absolutely no rabid vampires today."

"That's the spirit," Bethany says cheerfully, linking her arm through mine. "Focus on the positive. Like how we're going to find the most magnificent pumpkins ever to grace the carving contest stage."

"And how there's fresh apple cider donuts," Luna adds, already steering us toward the farm stand. "I can smell them from here."

The pumpkin patch stretches before us in waves of orange and green, dotted with families and couples searching for their perfect gourd.

Hay bales create charming little photo spots, while a tractor pulls a wagon full of laughing children around the perimeter.

It's picturesque, peaceful - everything the place wasn't when I was last here.

"I think we should start with cider," Bethany declares. "Fortification before the serious pumpkin hunting begins."

"You just want one of those donuts," I tease, but I'm grateful for the suggestion. The cider stand is safely on the opposite side from where the attack happened.

"I contain multitudes," Bethany sniffs. "I can want donuts AND be concerned for your emotional wellbeing."

The cider stand is rustic perfection, with strings of fairy lights already glowing softly despite the afternoon sun. We claim a small table with our steaming cups and a plate of donuts that smell like heaven.

"So," Luna says, licking cinnamon sugar from her fingers, "I've been thinking about our booth setup for the festival. What if we coordinate themes? Like, Bethany does her cupid matches, I sell love-enhancing crystals, and Willow provides the flowers to seal the deal?"

"One-stop shopping for romantic disasters?" I laugh. "That's actually not a terrible idea."

"Excuse you," Bethany huffs. "My matches are not disasters. They're... enthusiastically unpredictable."

"Like that werewolf and the mail carrier?" Luna snickers. "The one where she accidentally pepper-sprayed him when he startled her on her route?"

"They're engaged now!" Bethany points her donut at us accusingly. "My success rate is unimpeachable."

"Your methods are certainly unique," I concede. "But I like the coordinated booth idea. We could do a 'Find Your Love' theme. Bethany matches people, I provide first date flowers, and Luna offers magical romantic enhancement."

"Yes!" Luna claps her hands. "And we'll need costumes. Something autumnal but also romantic."

"Please, not the cupid outfit again," I groan, remembering last year's debacle. "The wings kept hitting people in the face."

"Those were love taps," Bethany sniffs. "And they were very effective ice-breakers."

We finish our donuts, plotting booth decorations and arguing good-naturedly about costumes. For a few precious minutes, I almost forget where we are, the memories of that day fading beneath the weight of normal friendship and laughter.

Until we head for the pumpkin fields.

The path takes us right past the greenhouse. I try not to look, but my eyes are drawn to it anyway - I can almost see him here. But I see it anyway, my magic prickling beneath my skin in remembered fear.

"We can go around," Luna murmurs, noticing my hesitation.

I shake my head. "It's fine. I'm fine."

But my steps falter as we pass the spot where I held Marcus suspended in purple light, where Kane appeared like some avenging dark angel, where everything between us shifted yet again. The mate bond hums anxiously in my chest, as if sensing my distress.

"Look!" Bethany points dramatically, using her cupid gift for timely interventions. "They have those weird white pumpkins this year! Luna, didn't you say those were better for moon magic?"

Luna takes the hint beautifully. "Absolutely. Ghost pumpkins have excellent magical conductivity. Let's check those out first."

They each take one of my arms, steering me firmly toward the pumpkin fields and away from my memories. I let them, grateful for friends who know exactly when to push and when to distract.

The pumpkin fields are a riot of orange, green, white, and even some blue varieties. Children run between the rows, parents take photos, and hay bales create little islands for resting. It's perfectly normal, perfectly safe.

I breathe in the crisp autumn air, letting it clear my head. "Okay, let's find some winner pumpkins. I've got a carving contest to dominate."

"Bold words from someone who came in third last year," Bethany teases, already examining a particularly round specimen.

"The judging was rigged," I sniff. "Werewolves have an unfair advantage with those claws."

Luna wanders between rows, her hands hovering over pumpkins like she's reading their auras. Knowing Luna, she probably is. "This one's too anxious," she murmurs. "Bad energy for carving."

"Are you... interviewing the pumpkins?" I can't help but laugh.

"Selecting a pumpkin is a sacred ritual," she says with mock seriousness. "It must be astrologically compatible with your birth chart."

"It's going to be ritually disemboweled and have a face carved into it," I point out.

"All the more reason to choose wisely!" She moves to another row. "This one feels right. Very Sagittarius energy."

Bethany, meanwhile, has spotted what might be the largest pumpkin in the patch. "This one," she declares, trying and failing to lift it. "This is the chosen one."

"Beth, that thing is bigger than you are," I laugh. "How are you going to get it home?"

"Details," she waves dismissively. "I need this pumpkin. We're spiritually connected."

I wander through the rows, letting my fingers trail over the bumpy orange skin of various contenders. Despite myself, I'm starting to enjoy this. The warm sun, the scent of earth and harvest, the distant laughter of children - it's peaceful in a way my life hasn't been lately.

I find my pumpkin nestled between two larger ones, perfectly proportioned with a sturdy stem. When I touch it, my magic gives a little hum of recognition. This one.

"Found it!" I call to my friends. "The future first-place winner of the Fall Festival."

"That's a bold claim."

The voice behind me sends a shiver up my spine that has nothing to do with fear. The bond in my chest flares to life like someone's struck a match, warm and insistent and impossible to ignore.

I turn slowly, already knowing who I'll see. "Spying on the competition?"

Kane stands there looking irritatingly handsome in jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

It's the most casual I've ever seen him, and it's doing unfair things to my heart rate.

His dark hair is slightly tousled, as if he's been running his hands through it, and there's a smudge of dirt on his cheek that somehow makes him even more attractive.

"Hardly competition when the outcome is predetermined," he says with that infuriating smirk. "The Drake family has won the carving contest more years than we’ve lost."

"Nepotism," I sniff. "You probably bribe the judges."

"I'm wounded." He places a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Are you suggesting my masterful carving skills aren't solely responsible for my victories?"

Luna appears at my elbow, eyes wide. "Kane! What a completely unexpected surprise to see you here at your own farm that you definitely own!"

Bethany joins us, dragging her enormous pumpkin. "Oh! Kane! We had absolutely no idea you'd be here today when we specifically chose to come to your pumpkin patch!"

I close my eyes briefly, silently cursing my completely unsubtle friends. "Ignore them," I tell Kane. "They were just leaving to get help with Bethany's ridiculous pumpkin."

"It's not ridiculous, it's magnificent," Bethany protests. "Though I do need help. Strong, farmhand type help." She looks pointedly toward the staff area.

"I'll assist," Kane offers, but Luna shakes her head vigorously.

"No, no! We wouldn't dream of bothering the owner. Besides," she nudges Bethany not-at-all-subtly, "we need to go pick out those, um, specialty items. From the farm store. Right now."

"Oh!" Bethany's eyes widen with exaggerated realization. "Yes! Those... things! Very important things! Come on, Luna!"

"But what about my pumpkin?" Luna stages whispers.