Page 28

Hannah

Holding me close, Severin flies us over the forest to the north of town.

Oh, god. Is he heading for the waterfall? My cheeks heat as my butterflies take flight at the memory of what we did there.

Instead, he angles toward his palace, and I exhale in relief as he carries me over the outer wall to touch down in the middle of the garden.

“Why are we here?” I ask.

“Since the bride trials start from here, I thought you should practice in this location to become familiar with the assets available to you.”

“And by assets…”

“I mean animals.” He gestures toward the beautiful garden. “I want you to find me an animal. ”

“This is why we left Finn at the town green, isn’t it?” Not that my familiar minded. He still doesn’t seem very keen on flying, no matter how many times I tell him it’s fun.

Severin nods. “I want you to focus on animals you don’t share a bond with.”

I spin in a slow circle. Birds sing in the trees, though I don’t spot any other creatures.

But if the birds are singing, why am I not hearing words?

I walk closer to a cherry tree caught in the height of bloom, even though it’s summer instead of spring.

From what I can tell, Severin’s plants don’t need to follow strict seasons.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the birdsong, the high trill of joyful notes slowly changing from a tune into snatches of words. “I’m here! Chirp. Cheep. I’m here!”

“Hello,” I call up to the tree. “I’m here, too.”

“Hello.” A robin hops into view along a branch, its red breast puffed out as it tilts its head from side to side, eyeing me. “No wings can talk.”

Aww. Is that what they call humans?

“Yes, I can.” I’m doing it! I give a mental fist pump as I grin up at him, trying to look friendly. Then I realize a smile probably means nothing to a bird. I lift my hand, palm up. “Would you like to come here?”

“No.” Its head twists, the beak opening to preen along the top of one wing.

When my arm drops, Severin grips my wrist, maneuvering my hand back up into position. “ Make it come to you. That should be part of your magic.”

“Okay. Sure. No prob.” Only big prob, because the butterflies are back, and all I can focus on is Severin standing right behind me, so close I can feel the heat radiating from him. One tiny shift backward, and—

“You’re not going to improve unless you practice,” he growls in my ear. “And it’s going to take a lot of improvement if you want to win the competition.”

His words hit me like a cold shower, jerking me out of my tingly daze. Shit, he’s right. That amazing Ferndale Falls of this morning? I have to win one of the trials, or it goes up in smoke.

I stare up at the robin. “Come here.”

Ignoring me, it lifts its wing to dig into the feathers underneath.

I try over and over, getting more frustrated every time.

“You’re not tapping into your magic fully.” Severin steps even closer, wrapping an arm around me to splay his fingers over my stomach.

The butterflies throw themselves forward, as if trying to burst free to reach his hand.

“I’m going to call up my magic,” he growls into my ear and pulls me backward until our bodies are flush. “Feel it… let it guide you to yours.”

Oh, I feel it alright, but I’m pretty sure “it” in this case is his erection, and it’s short-circuiting my brain. Orgasms, my lady bits whisper to me. We really, really like orgasms. The butterflies add an excited “Whee!”

Then his magic swells behind me in a punch of power that steals my breath. Severin’s strength is staggering.

My magic stirs within my chest, blossoming open. I let it fill me, let it seep up my throat, let it coat my tongue with command. “Come to me. ”

With a startled squawk, the robin falls from the branch, its wings snapping out to turn it into a controlled glide. Little bird feet tickle across my palm as it plops down, its tail feathers trailing down the side of my hand.

“No here,” it says and pecks at my wrist.

“Oww. Stop that,” I say.

It freezes solid, and I immediately feel bad. “You can move,” I blurt. “Just don’t hurt me.”

“Practice,” Severin murmurs against my ear.

I work through a list of commands, having the robin lift its wings, then refold them. Making it stand on first one leg, then the next. It’s all small, harmless stuff, but I don’t like it—I don’t like making it do things it doesn’t want to do.

“You can go now.” I lift my hand higher. As it launches into the air, winging quickly away, I call after it, “Thank you.”

“You need more practice.” Severin steps away from me.

“You’re right, I do.” I turn to face him.

“But I don’t want to use my magic to force animals.

They’re still thinking creatures.” Finn’s got as much intelligence as anyone I’ve met, and more personality than a few of my exes.

Having him as my familiar has only proven something I’ve always thought: animals are people, too.

“How are you going to get them to do what you want?” Severin scowls.

“I have an idea…”

Ten minutes later, I stand near a small grove of fruit trees. Severin’s shadows form a tray in the air, holding a collection of freshly caught grasshoppers.

“Bugs!” I cup my hands in a megaphone around my mouth and call up to the birds I can feel hiding in the trees. “ I’ve got bugs to share!”

A bluebird sticks its head out from behind an apple leaf. “Bugs?”

“Yep.” I hold up a hand. “Come and sit here, and I’ll give you a nice juicy bug.”

It flutters over, and one of Severin’s shadows offers up a grasshopper, so I don’t have to touch it. Thank god, because bugs are so not my thing.

The bluebird snaps up its treat, its head tipping back as it opens its beak wide and lets gravity do some of the work. Then it flares its wings and yells, “Bugs!”

The rustling of wings fills the air as bluebirds come from all over the garden to settle along my outstretched arms. Then my friend the robin joins them, and I have Severin give him a couple extra bugs to make up for earlier.

Severin’s shadows reach outward in all directions, catching grasshoppers to keep up with demand.

I stand in the center of it all, a witch covered in birds, my magic singing through me. It’s chaotic and noisy… and one of the most amazing things I’ve ever experienced. When we run out of grasshoppers, the birds flit away, one after the other, the robin leaving last.

I’m still riding that high when Severin’s words pull me back down to Earth. “More practice.”

Once I determine there aren’t any animals in the garden other than a few field mice, chipmunks, and a rabbit, Severin takes me flying again. He skims over the treetops, moving as slowly as possible, his shadow wings silent. “Find a larger animal.”

I close my eyes and reach out with my magic. Dozens of little blips ping on my animal radar, birds and mice and squirrels. Then I sense something larger. “There!” I point.

We swoop down, startling a doe, who takes off running with a flick of her white tail, no matter how much I call out that I won’t hurt her.

Severin launches into the air again, and I stretch outward with my magic.

First, I find a badger, who waddles out from underneath a rhododendron, swinging his black and white head from side to side and muttering, “Want eat worms. Where worms?” His sharp claws dig into the mulch-covered ground. “You talk. You give worms.”

Note to self: the entire animal kingdom very motivated by food. God, I can just picture me wearing cargo pants with each pocket stuffed with different kinds of animal treats. Or walking around with a sack of grasshoppers, scattering them behind me like the Johnny Appleseed of bugs.

I chuckle, and the badger snorts in disgust and wanders into a thicket of ferns, still muttering.

Next, I find a raccoon at the edge of a wide stream, its little arms wet up to the shoulders. It crunches into a crayfish, its whiskers wiggling as it chews. “Num num.”

“That’s pretty good, huh?”

“Yes.” The clever little hands dunk the crayfish in the water a couple of times, rolling it around like the raccoon’s washing its food. Then it takes another crackling bite. “Num num.”

“Are crayfish the best, or is there something you like better?”

It drops its little hands from its mouth, staring at me from its bandit-mask eyes. “Walnuts.”

“Good to know.” I turn to Severin, grinning so wide my cheeks hurt, but I can’t stop. “Raccoons love walnuts.” First item for my new animal-treats cargo pants.

We spend the rest of the day exploring the forest, and I talk to porcupines, rabbits, and even a skunk, spending most of that conversation arguing about not getting sprayed.

By the time evening falls, I’m worn out, sagging in Severin’s arms as he flies me tirelessly back toward town.

“One more,” he murmurs in my ear, his voice velvety and rich. “Find me one more, even larger animal, and we’ll call it a day.”

Closing my eyes, I let my magic spool outward in a spiral. It’s so hard to not be distracted by the multitude of small animals that it takes what feels like ages to spot something larger.

“That way.” I point. “There’s something there.”

Severin flies us to a break in the treetops, coming to a hover over a small glen.

Blackberry bushes line one side, their tops picked over, though their sides hang heavy with deep-purple berries.

A huge black bear lazes on the ground beside them, enjoying the last rays of sun, and two cubs roll and tussle across the clearing, rearing up onto their hind legs to face off like a couple of tiny boxers as they swat at each other.

I remain quiet, watching in awe as the mother says, “You two, play nice.”

“Yes, Ma!” the little ones chorus, racing over to chase each other up and down a tree trunk, claws scrabbling against the bark .

“Are you going to talk to them?” Severin murmurs directly into my ear.

I shake my head. They’re wild and carefree, their little family perfectly content. Anything I did right now would only disturb them. I whisper, “Take me back to town.”

Orange streaks the sky as the sun starts to set, painting the bottoms of the fluffy clouds with one last splash of color.

Lights appear as Ferndale Falls comes into view, dim spots of radiance that grow brighter as the sunlight fades.

By the time we set down in the middle of the green, the birds are singing their last songs of evening.

“Finn?” I call out.

Severin stops me with a hand on my arm. “Feel for him. Call to him with your magic instead.”

“More practice?” I quirk my lips.

“Of course.”

He’s right. I fight off fatigue and call upon my magic, sending it rippling outward. “Finn’s not on the green.”

“Where is he?”

I frown, pushing harder, finding mice, cats, birds, squirrels, and the occasional dog. But where’s my little fox buddy? I keep going, searching for the familiar feel of Finn.

There!

My eyes snap open. “He’s in the woods behind my cottage, waiting for me to come home.”

Severin smiles, sharp and handsome, taking my breath away. “I knew you had power.”

“Thank you.” We need to talk about everything that happened last night, but I don’t want to disrupt the ease we’ve found with each other today. We’ve gone from awkward to comfortable, and I know it’s a bit cowardly, but I really don’t want to make things weird again.

Plus, it’s less than two days to the next trial. I need to focus on learning my magic so I can win. “Today’s been such a huge help.”

“We’ll practice again tomorrow evening once you’re off work,” he says.

“Sounds great.”

With this breakthrough I’ve had, I’m going to win this next trial. I just know it!