Page 24

SYLVIE

S ylvie swiped angrily at the newly failed candle of the morning, her knuckles grazing the hot wax. She didn't even flinch at the burn, a small pain compared to the hollow ache that had settled in her chest since she'd kicked Nicholas out the other day.

The Moonshadow Apothecary stood eerily quiet. No customers had ventured in today, perhaps sensing the storm of emotions radiating from the shop's owner. Or maybe it was the blackened scorch marks on the ceiling from yesterday's magical mishap.

"I thought I locked that door." Sylvie didn't look up as the bell chimed, already knowing who'd barged in. Only one person ignored her CLOSED sign with such consistency.

"Locks are merely suggestions to the determined." Nico strode in, their brocade vest shimmering with embedded crystals that caught the late morning light. They carried a wicker basket covered with a purple cloth. "And if you'd bothered checking your messages, you'd know I was coming."

Sylvie's phone lay face-down on the counter, deliberately ignored since Nicholas's name had flashed across it seventeen times in the past twenty-four hours.

"I'm busy." She gestured to the mess of half-formed candles, spilled herbs, and scattered crystals.

Nico surveyed the chaos with a raised eyebrow. "Yes, I can see your productivity is simply off the charts."

The bell chimed again, and Missy Sage swept in with the scent of sage and something spicier. Her silver-streaked hair was braided with tiny bells that tinkled as she moved.

"Beautiful day to hide from life, isn't it?" Missy's keen eyes took in everything—Sylvie's unwashed hair, the dark circles under her eyes, the tremor in her hands. "I see we're right on time."

"You two planned this." It wasn't a question. Sylvie's eyes narrowed.

"Intervention is such an ugly word." Nico placed their basket on the cleanest corner of the counter. "We prefer 'magical assist.'"

Missy circled behind Sylvie, gently untangling a strand of hair from where it had caught on a dried herb. "You look terrible, darling."

"Thanks. Always good to have honesty." Sylvie pulled away, busying herself with reorganizing the already organized shelf of essential oils.

"That tiger boy looks worse," Missy said casually.

Sylvie's fingers tightened on a bottle of lavender oil. "He's not my concern."

"Rollo says he can't shift properly." Nico lifted the purple cloth, revealing an assortment of candle-making supplies. "Half-tiger, half-human. Stuck between. Sound familiar?"

"That's his problem." The words tasted false even as they left her lips.

"Hmm." Missy pulled ingredients from Nico's basket—silver shavings, clarity crystals, moon water, and a chunk of raw beeswax that smelled faintly of star anise. "The bond works both ways, you know."

Sylvie watched them arrange the supplies with practiced efficiency. "What are you doing?"

"Making a candle." Nico's tone suggested she'd asked if water was wet.

"I can see that. Why in my shop?"

"Because you've lost your spark." Missy's voice gentled, her hand coming to rest on Sylvie's shoulder. "Your magic is clouded by unacknowledged truths."

Sylvie tried to muster indignation, but exhaustion won out. "He lied to me."

"Did he?" Nico measured powdered moonstone into a small bowl. "Or did he withhold information while trying to figure things out, just like you've done your entire life?"

The parallel struck too close. Sylvie turned away, but Missy guided her back to the worktable.

"This," Missy held up a clear crystal, "is a Candle of Clarity. It burns only with true intent and reveals what the heart knows but the mind denies."

"I know what I feel." Sylvie crossed her arms. "Betrayed."

"And yet your magic won't work." Nico mixed the herbs with practiced hands. "Curious, for someone so certain."

They worked in silence for several minutes, Sylvie watching despite herself as they crafted a perfect white taper candle embedded with silver flecks. When it was done, Missy placed it in a simple holder before Sylvie.

"What?" Sylvie asked.

"Light it," Nico challenged, sliding a matchbook toward her.

"This is ridiculous."

"Then prove us wrong." Missy's eyes twinkled. "If you truly hate Nicholas Whitmore, this candle will burn black. If you're merely angry but confused, it might flicker blue or green. But if?—"

"I know how clarity candles work." Sylvie grabbed the matchbook.

Her hand trembled slightly as she struck the match. The candle stood stubbornly unlit through three attempts.

"You have to mean it," Nico said softly. "Ask the question you're afraid to answer."

Sylvie closed her eyes, feeling the familiar weight of denial pressing against her ribs. What would happen if she stopped fighting? If she admitted that underneath the anger lay fear—not of Nicholas, but of what he made her feel?

The question formed in her mind as she struck another match.

Do I love him?

The wick caught instantly. Instead of the expected yellow-orange, the flame burned pure, brilliant silver, casting the room in ethereal light. Reflections danced across the ceiling, forming what looked suspiciously like tiger stripes.

"Oh," Sylvie breathed, watching the silver flame grow taller, steadier.

Something cracked inside her chest, not breaking, but opening. All the feelings she'd pushed away came rushing in: the flutter when he smiled, the comfort of his scent, the way her magic sparked brighter in his presence.

"The bond didn't create anything, it simply removed the barriers you both built," Missy said gently.

Tears slipped down Sylvie's cheeks as the realization settled into her bones with magic finally gone right. With peace settling inside of her. "I'm in love with him."

"And water is wet." Nico winked, but his expression held genuine warmth. "The question is, what are you going to do about it?"

The silver flame flickered higher, illuminating a truth Sylvie had been running from her entire life: love wasn't something to control or contain—it was wild magic, unpredictable and transformative.

"I need to find him," she whispered, eyes never leaving the brilliant silver flame. "I need to let him explain. And I need to try."