Page 40

NICHOLAS

S ix months since the wedding night, and Nicholas still caught himself smiling at nothing.

Morning light glinted through the partially constructed pergola beams casting latticed shadows across the garden soil behind Moonshadow Apothecary.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he hammered the final nail into place.

"You know I could've enchanted those boards to fit together by themselves," Sylvie called from the shop's back door, a steaming mug in each hand.

Nicholas straightened, rolling his shoulders as he watched his wife navigate the stepping stones he'd laid last weekend.

Her blonde hair caught the light, its waves escaping her messy bun in tendrils that framed her face.

Even in her worn jeans and faded Moonshadow t-shirt, she still stole his breath.

"And miss out on all this manly showing off?" He flexed dramatically before accepting the offered coffee. "My tiger would never forgive me."

Sylvie's eyes rolled, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. "Your tiger is a show-off. Just like his human."

"You love it."

"I tolerate it."

Nicholas set down his mug on a nearby bench and pulled her against him, coffee sloshing dangerously in her hand. "You love it," he murmured against her ear, relishing the shiver that ran through her.

"Fine. I love it." She kissed him quickly, then ducked out of his arms to survey his handiwork. "This garden is going to be magical when it's finished."

Nicholas squinted up at the skeleton of the pergola, mentally placing the climbing jasmine and moonflowers he'd picked up from Celeste's nursery. "Just wait until the full moon. The light will hit those crystal prisms you hung perfectly."

"Speaking of light..." Sylvie set her mug beside his and took his hand, tugging him toward the shop. "The first batch is ready."

Inside the workshop behind the main shop floor, shelves lined with glass jars of dried herbs and crystallized resins gave way to a long workbench covered in candles. Not the usual variety Sylvie crafted for clients these glowed with a soft inner light that pulsed gently, like heartbeats.

"Bond candles." Nicholas picked one up, turning the pearlescent wax in his hands. Warmth tingled up his arm, and the amber specks suspended within the wax glimmered in response to his touch. "They're beautiful."

"They respond to emotion." Sylvie tucked herself against his side, her fingers tracing the curve of the candle he held. "When someone's mate or soulmate touches them, they glow brighter."

Nicholas raised an eyebrow. "Testing that theory, are we?" He leaned in, lips brushing her temple as the candle flared golden between them, bright enough to cast shadows. "Looks like it works."

"It's not just for mates." Sylvie took the candle and placed it back among its fellows. "They react to all kinds of bonds— friendship, family. I've been testing them with Missy and some of the others."

"Let me guess, Nico wanted theirs to sparkle?"

"With rainbow glitter," she confirmed with a laugh. "I had to talk them down to gold and silver."

Nicholas followed her through to the main shop, where the morning light streamed through the stained-glass window, casting kaleidoscope patterns across the worn wooden floor. The door creaked open as Hazel Fairweather swept in, her multicolored scarves trailing behind her like autumn leaves.

"I sensed new light in the ether!" Hazel's gaze went immediately to the display table where several bond candles sat nestled in beds of dried lavender and rose petals. "Oh, Sylvie! They're exquisite."

"Just finished the first batch this morning." Sylvie moved behind the counter as Nicholas leaned against the doorframe, content to watch his wife in her element. "Want to try one?"

Hazel picked up a slender taper, gasping as it glowed silver in her palm. "Oh my. It remembers my bond with Arthur, even after all these years."

Nicholas remembered Sylvie telling him about Hazel's late husband, how their bond had been legendary among the supernatural community.

"The heart never forgets," Sylvie said softly, her eyes finding Nicholas's across the room.

As the day progressed, more townspeople filtered into the shop, drawn by whispers of Sylvie's newest creation.

Markus and Rowan from Pines & Needles bookstore bickered good-naturedly as their candle flickered between blue and green.

Cassian Drake from The Gilded Fang bought three, though he refused to say who he'd test them with.

Even Rollo stopped by, his massive frame dwarfing the delicate candles, his eyes suspiciously bright when one glowed russet at his touch.

Nicholas helped where he could, wrapping purchases and fetching supplies, but mostly he observed the ripple effect of joy spreading through their little community. What had begun as an accidental binding spell had evolved into something that illuminated bonds throughout Celestial Pines.

Later, as twilight painted the sky in watercolor streaks of pink and purple, Nicholas found Sylvie in their garden. She'd hung fairy lights along the pergola's frame, their soft glow mingling with the first stars.

"Quite the successful launch day." Nicholas slipped his arms around her waist from behind, chin resting on her shoulder. "The tiger's very proud of his clever witch."

"I couldn't have done it without you." Sylvie turned in his embrace, linking her hands behind his neck. "You're my catalyst, remember?"

"Is that what they're calling it these days?"

Her laugh warmed him more than any summer evening could. "I'm being serious for once. Those candles wouldn't exist if you hadn't walked into my shop that day."

"And ruined your love-warding spell?" He traced the line of her jaw with his thumb. "Best mistake I never made."

"It wasn't a mistake." Sylvie's eyes held his, storm-gray and certain. "It was exactly what was supposed to happen."

Nicholas felt the truth of it settle in his bones as he leaned down to kiss her, their bond—magical, fated, and entirely chosen—glowing golden between them like the candles that now lit windows throughout the town.