Page 3 of Enchanting the Alpha (Mystic Hollow #1)
THREE
L eft on her own, Romi glanced around the room, letting the feel of home envelope her.
“This café will be more than just a business,” she declared to the empty room, her voice firm with conviction. “It’ll be a place where everyone belongs, where all magic and every species in the community thrive together.”
As if in response, the enchanted lights brightened, casting a warm glow over the space. Outside, the sun had set completely, and the magical lanterns of Mystic Hollow began to illuminate the streets. Romi stood at the window, watching as witches, shifters, and other supernatural beings started their evening routines.
A soft knock drew her attention. Clover stood in the doorway, smiling. “Sorry! I’m back. Is everything okay?”
“Just getting a feel for the place.” Romi gestured around. “Making plans.”
“Good plans, I hope?”
“The best.” Romi’s eyes sparkled with determination.
Yes, there were challenges ahead. Yes, there would be obstacles to overcome. But standing there in the gentle glow of magical lanterns, surrounded by the pulse of ancient power that ran through Mystic Hollow’s very foundations, Romi knew she had made the right choice.
This wasn’t just a fresh start - it was coming home.
Clover pulled her in for a hug. “I am so happy you’re back, Romi.”
They held each other tightly. When they pulled apart, both wiped away tears while pretending not to notice the other doing the same.
“The café changes you’ve made in just a month look amazing,” Romi said, taking in the renovations.
“Wait until you see the new equipment.” Clover led her through the space, pointing out magical upgrades and sharing stories of regular customers. “And over here-”
“Pardon the interruption.” A tall, dignified figure emerged from the entrance. “But I believe proper introductions are in order.”
Otis Quill cut an impressive figure despite his advanced age. His owl-like amber eyes gleamed with intelligence behind enchanted spectacles, and his silvery hair bore an almost feathered quality. He carried himself with the grace of someone who had spent centuries among precious books and ancient knowledge.
“Romi, you remember Otis Quill. He’s our town historian and keeper of the Mystic Hollow Archives,” Clover said. “Otis, this is my cousin Romi Weir. I don’t know if you remember her.”
“Of course, I remember little Romi. It’s a pleasure to see you back.” Otis’s handshake conveyed both strength and gentleness. “I’ve heard much about your modern and innovative approach to magical brewing. Perhaps we could discuss some historical techniques I’ve uncovered in my research?”
“I’d love that.” Romi noticed the concern lurking behind his scholarly demeanor. “Is everything all right with the archives?”
Otis glanced around before lowering his voice. “There have been... disturbances. Someone appears to be searching for specific information - dangerous information. I’d appreciate your unbiased and fresh insights on the matter, once you’re settled.”
Before Romi could probe further, the café’s door chimed. A young woman with chestnut brown hair and dancing hazel eyes bounded in, trailing flower petals in her wake.
“Romi!” Felicia Green enveloped her in a hug that smelled of herbs and sunshine. “The garden has missed your magic. You have to come see the new night-blooming moonflowers!”
As Felicia chatted enthusiastically about her latest botanical experiments, more townsfolk filtered in to welcome Romi home. The café hummed with conversation and magical energy, exactly as she remembered.
Later, after the impromptu welcome gathering dispersed, Romi sat with Clover at a corner table, surrounded by blueprints and magical schematics.
“I’m thinking we could upgrade the protective wards to interweave with scents of baking bread and vanilla,” Romi said, sketching magical symbols. “Maybe add some mood-sensing enchantments to help customize drink temperatures?”
“Brilliant.” Clover made notes in her precise handwriting. “And what about-”
A shadow passed over their plans. Otis stood nearby, clutching an ancient leather-bound book.
“I hate to interrupt again,” he said, “but there’s something you should see.” He opened the book carefully, revealing pages covered in shifting runes. “This text contains references to dark magic - magic that could disrupt the wavering balance between witches and shifters. Someone’s been accessing these sections recently.”
“Who would want to do that?” Romi asked, studying the ominous symbols.
“That’s what concerns me.” Otis’s expression grew grave. “Whoever it is has managed to bypass most of our protective spells. They’re skilled, determined, and potentially dangerous.”
As if in response to his words, the café’s magical lights flickered. Whiskers, who had been dozing nearby, suddenly sat up straight, his tiny wings spreading defensively.
“I’ll help however I can,” Romi promised. She hadn’t returned to Mystic Hollow just to run a café - she’d come home to make a difference, to create a space where all magical beings could find harmony.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur of planning and preparation. When Romi finally reached her new bungalow, enchanted lights winked on to welcome her. She sat on the porch, watching the moonlight paint the sky in brilliant hues while Whiskers chased firefly-like sparks through the garden.
Tomorrow would bring issues - running the café, investigating the archive mystery, and finding her place in Mystic Hollow again. But for now, she savored the feeling of being exactly where she belonged.
A “Mystic Moment” swept through her garden, causing the flowers to hum a gentle lullaby. Romi smiled, her heart full. She had come home to Mystic Hollow, and home had welcomed her back with open arms and open magic.