Page 6

SYLVIE

S ylvie flipped the "OPEN" sign to "CLOSED" with unnecessary force, the little wooden plaque swinging wildly on its hook. The tether around her wrist pulsed in what felt suspiciously like disapproval.

"Oh, shut up," she muttered at it. "You don't get an opinion."

The magical binding had been insufferable all afternoon, ever since Nicholas had sauntered out of her shop with that infuriating smirk. One of the few women he hadn't managed to "take out." As if she were some conquest to be added to his collection.

Sylvie grabbed her canvas tote and locked the shop door behind her. The evening air was cool against her flushed skin as she marched down Main Street toward The Spellbound Sip. If there was ever a time she needed one of Nico's special brews, it was now.

The coffee shop's windows glowed with warm amber light, and the faint scent of cardamom and vanilla beckoned her inside. The bell jingled cheerfully as she entered.

"Well, well, well." Nico Voss leaned across the counter, their array of beaded bracelets clinking together as they propped their chin on their hands. "If it isn't my favorite candle witch, looking like she's about to set something—or someone—on fire."

Sylvie dropped onto a stool at the counter. "Is it that obvious?"

"Honey, you're practically smoking." Nico's kohl-rimmed eyes widened suddenly. "Wait, you're actually smoking."

Sylvie glanced down to find thin wisps of gray rising from her fingertips where they rested on the countertop. "Dang it." She shook her hands out, willing her magic to settle.

Nico reached across the counter and grasped her wrist, careful to avoid the violet band. Their eyebrows shot up toward their electric blue hair. "Oh my goddess. This is juicy."

"Don't start."

"Start? Sugar, I'm halfway through the book already." Nico turned toward the back. "Nerissa! I need a Tempest Tamer for our darling Sylvie, stat!"

The willowy siren behind the espresso machine nodded, her movements fluid as she selected a jar of loose tea.

"You don't need to make a production of it," Sylvie grumbled.

"When you walk in here practically combusting? Yes, I absolutely do." Nico tapped a lavender-painted nail against the counter. "So. Nicholas Whitmore, huh?"

Sylvie's head snapped up. "How did you?—"

"Please. The whole town's talking about how Dolores Weber's love-warding candle backfired and bound you two together." Nico's grin widened. "Plus, that magical accessory you're sporting? Not exactly subtle."

Sylvie slumped forward, resting her forehead on the cool countertop. "It's a nightmare."

"A nightmare with excellent biceps and a smile that could melt butter."

"He's insufferable," Sylvie muttered into the counter. "He's arrogant, and flippant, and sees women as conquests."

"And yet..." Nico waited until Sylvie looked up. "That blush says differently."

Before Sylvie could retort, Nerissa glided over with a steaming mug that swirled with blues and purples. She set it down in front of Sylvie with a knowing smile.

"Thanks, Nerissa." Sylvie wrapped her hands around the mug, letting its heat seep into her palms.

"Drink up," Nico instructed. "Nerissa's Tempest Tamer will help settle that magic before you torch my establishment."

Sylvie took a sip. Lavender and mint bloomed across her tongue, followed by something deeper—black currant maybe, with a hint of honey. Almost immediately, the crackling energy beneath her skin began to calm.

"So," Nico continued, leaning forward conspiratorially. "What happened today that's got you literally fuming?"

"He said he's wanted to ask me out for two years, and then in the same breath made it clear I'm just another potential notch on his bedpost." Sylvie took another swig of tea. "One of the 'few women he hasn't managed to take out.'"

Nico winced. "Ouch."

"Exactly."

"Men and their mouths, always getting them into trouble." Nico shook their head, the tiny stars dangling from their earlobes catching the light. "But you know, sometimes when people are nervous, they say the dumbest things."

"Nicholas Whitmore, nervous? Around me?" Sylvie scoffed. "The man flirts with everything that moves."

"Maybe that's the point." Nico's voice softened. "Some people use charm as armor, sweetie."

The teacup in Sylvie's hands suddenly felt warmer, the liquid inside shifting from blue to a deep mauve. She stared down at it, confused.

"Interesting." Nico tilted their head, studying the cup. "That color usually indicates conflicted feelings."

"I'm not conflicted. I'm annoyed."

"Uh-huh." Nico didn't sound convinced. "Is that why Mrs. Harrington came in here babbling about how her meditation candle from Moonshadow started writing sonnets in flame when she lit it this morning?"

Sylvie groaned. "That was one candle."

"And the birthday candles for little Timmy Miller that spelled out 'tiger' instead of 'happy birthday'?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Honey, I know everything." Nico's smile was smug. "Including the fact that your magic has always been linked to your emotions. And right now? Your emotions are all over that tiger shifter."

"They are not." The band around Sylvie's wrist flashed, sending a mild shock up her arm. "Ow!"

"What was that?" Nico leaned forward, eyes wide with delight.

"Nothing." Sylvie rubbed her wrist. "The binding just... reacts sometimes. When I'm not being honest."

Nico cackled. "Oh, that's priceless! A magical lie detector?" They clapped their hands. "So if I asked if you found Nicholas attractive and you said no..."

"I'm not playing this game." Sylvie took another long sip of her tea, which had now turned a suspicious shade of pink.

"You don't have to say it. That tea speaks volumes." Nico nodded toward the mug. "Rose pink. Classic attraction."

"It's the lighting in here."

"Sure it is." Nico crossed their arms. "Look, you don't need my witchy intuition to see what's happening. Your magic is responding to feelings you won't admit, not even to yourself."

"I barely know him."

"Then maybe it's time you did." Nico shrugged. "The spell bound you for a reason, Sylvie. And it's not going away until that reason is fulfilled."

The bell chimed as a new customer entered. Junie, the human barista-in-training, bustled in from the back room to take their order, giving Sylvie a momentary reprieve from Nico's piercing insights.

"I've tried everything to break it," Sylvie said quietly once Junie was occupied. "Nothing works."

"Maybe you're trying to break the wrong thing." Nico reached out and tapped Sylvie's forehead gently. "Maybe what needs breaking is up here, all those walls you've built."

The tea in Sylvie's cup rippled, small waves lapping at the sides though she hadn't moved it. Another sign her magic was responding to her emotional state.

"What if he hurts me?" The question came out small and vulnerable.

Nico's expression softened. "What if he doesn't?"