Page 14

CADE

L yra woke up in her lonely bed at The Moonbeam Lodge feeling like she'd been emotionally hit by a supernatural freight train.

Four days had passed since the cellar incident, and Cade had managed to avoid her so completely that she was starting to wonder if he'd left town entirely.

No morning appearances at the inn. No concerned texts about her magical stability.

No gruff offers to help with repairs. Just radio silence and the growing certainty that whatever had happened between them had been a mistake of catastrophic proportions.

At least according to him.

Her founder's mark had settled into a steady, warm pulse that felt less like a brand and more like a heartbeat she couldn't ignore.

The inn itself seemed more responsive to her presence now—doors opening at her approach, lights flickering on without switches being touched, the old building humming with contentment that suggested it approved of recent developments even if its former protector's descendant had fled like she carried the plague.

"Bastard," Lyra muttered into her coffee, which was probably unfair since she'd known Cade for less than a week and he didn't actually owe her anything beyond basic supernatural politeness.

The problem was, the bond she'd felt forming between them hadn't faded.

If anything, it had grown stronger, like a golden thread connecting her heart to someone who was doing his damndest to pretend she didn't exist. Every time she thought about him—which was embarrassingly often—she felt an answering echo somewhere in her chest, as if part of him was still with her whether he wanted to be or not.

Her phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number: "Meet me at the bookstore. We need to talk. - N"

"Finally," Lyra said, downing the rest of her coffee and grabbing her jacket. If anyone had answers about founder bonds and ancient magical responsibilities, it would be Nico.

The Gossamer Grimoire looked exactly like what would happen if someone gave a bibliophile unlimited resources and a complete disregard for conventional retail practices.

Books were stacked in towering piles that defied physics, hanging plants created jungle-like corners perfect for reading, and the air smelled of old paper and laced with something literal magic.

A sign by the register read "Cursed Books - Second Floor - Browse at Your Own Risk. "

Nico was waiting for her in what appeared to be the store's consultation area—a cozy nook with mismatched armchairs and a tea service that had clearly been designed for serious conversations.

He looked up from an ancient tome when she entered, his pale eyes holding the kind of sympathy that suggested he already knew why she was there.

"You look terrible," he said without preamble, gesturing for her to sit in the chair across from him.

"Gee, thanks. Really know how to make a girl feel special."

"I'm fae, darling. We're not known for sugar-coating unpleasant truths." Nico poured tea into a cup that appeared to be made of crystal and starlight. "Earl Grey with a touch of calming herbs. You look like you need it."

Lyra accepted the tea gratefully, immediately feeling some of the tension in her shoulders ease. "Is there anything in this town that isn't magical?"

"The tax collector," Nico said solemnly. "Completely mundane, unfortunately. Now, shall we discuss why you're radiating the kind of emotional turmoil that's been making every empath in a five-mile radius avoid downtown?"

"Cade's been avoiding me," Lyra said, deciding there was no point in pretending this was about anything else. "Ever since what happened in the cellar."

"Ah." Nico's expression grew knowing. "The bond finally snapped into place, did it?"

"You knew that was going to happen?"

"I suspected. Founder bloodlines and mates have been gravitating toward each other for centuries, even when the individuals involved don't know what they are." Nico set down his own teacup and leaned forward slightly. "The question is, how much do you actually know about your heritage?"

"Apparently nothing," Lyra said bitterly. "Everyone keeps talking about founder bloodlines and ancient responsibilities, but no one's bothered to explain what any of it actually means."

"Then let me enlighten you." Nico rose and moved to one of the towering bookshelves, returning with a leather-bound volume that looked old enough to have been personally inscribed by the founders themselves.

"This is the complete history of Mistwhisper Falls, including the parts that don't appear in any official records. "

He opened the book to a page filled with intricate drawings and text written in multiple languages.

Lyra could make out a map of the town, but with additional landmarks that didn't exist in the modern version—strange symbols marking locations that seemed to pulse with their own energy even in illustration form.

"In 1847," Nico began, his voice taking on the cadence of someone telling a story that had been repeated countless times, "three of the most powerful supernatural beings in North America came to this valley. They weren't settlers or pioneers—they were hunters."

"Hunting what?"

"Something that had been terrorizing supernatural communities across the continent for decades.

An entity so ancient and malevolent that it predated most of the magic we understand today.

" Nico turned the page to reveal an illustration that made Lyra's magic recoil instinctively.

"They called it the Mistbound, because it fed on the life force of magical beings and left behind only empty husks wrapped in unnatural fog. "

The drawing showed a creature that seemed to shift between forms—sometimes humanoid, sometimes a writhing mass of shadow and hunger, always surrounded by tendrils of mist that reached out like grasping fingers.

"The founders tracked it here," Nico continued, "to this valley where the natural magic was strong enough to contain it. But containment required sacrifice."

He turned to the next page, showing the three founders standing around what was clearly the rune now buried beneath the inn.

But in this illustration, they weren't just working magic—they were pouring their very life essence into the binding, their faces drawn with the exhaustion of people giving everything they had.

"They didn't just trap the Mistbound," Nico said quietly. "They bound it with their own souls, creating a seal that would hold as long as their bloodlines survived and remained connected to this place."

"Connected how?"

"Through bonds like the one you've just formed with Cade. You’re chosen mates, it also doesn’t help that help that he’s a werewolf.

Founder bloodlines are drawn to each other because the magic requires balance—chaos magic from the witch line, protective instincts from the wolf line, and strategic thinking from the fae line.

When the bloodlines are properly bonded, the seal remains strong. "

Lyra stared at the illustration, pieces of a puzzle she hadn't known she was solving clicking into place. "And when they're not bonded?"

"The seal weakens. Gradually at first, then more rapidly as the Mistbound becomes aware that its prison is failing.

" Nico's expression grew grave. "Your grandmother was the last active witch founder until you arrived.

She spent the final years of her life pouring her own energy into maintaining the seal, but it wasn't enough.

Single bloodline magic can only hold for so long. "

"That's why she cut off contact with my family," Lyra realized. "She was protecting me from having to make the same choice."

"And ensuring you'd have the option to claim your heritage when you were ready.

" Nico closed the book carefully. "Unfortunately, the Mistbound has been stirring more frequently in recent years.

Your grandmother's death weakened the seal significantly, and your arrival has. .. accelerated the timeline."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning the rune you cracked wasn't just a magical artifact. It was the first lock on a three-part prison. The Mistbound is already testing the boundaries of its containment."

Lyra felt a chill rushed through her veins. "How long do we have?"

"Hard to say. Could be months. Could be weeks. The entity grows stronger as the seal weakens, and stronger entities are better at breaking magical constraints."

"And Cade knows all this?"

"Cade knows enough to understand that founder bonds aren't just romantic convenience—they're the key to keeping something unspeakably dangerous locked away.

" Nico's pale eyes were sympathetic but unflinching.

"Which is probably why he's trying so hard to convince himself that what happened between you was just magical manipulation. "

"Was it?" The question came out smaller than Lyra had intended. "The bond, what we felt—was any of it real?"

"What do you think?"

"I think it was the most real thing I've ever experienced," Lyra said honestly. "But I also think Cade's convinced himself it was all supernatural coercion, and nothing I say is going to change his mind."

"Perhaps not," Nico agreed. "But there are other ways to prove your worth to the community."

"Such as?"

Nico's smile held a hint of mischief. "Such as showing everyone that you're not just Vera's unprepared granddaughter stumbling through magical crises. You're a founder descendant who belongs in this town and is capable of contributing to its welfare."

"How do I do that?"

"By being yourself. By opening your inn and welcoming the community. By proving that you're not going anywhere, regardless of what certain stubborn alpha wolves might prefer."

The idea took root in Lyra's mind like a seed finding fertile ground. She'd inherited the Mist & Mirth Inn for a reason, and it hadn't been so she could hide away feeling sorry for herself while Cade avoided her like she carried a contagious disease.

"The inn isn't ready for guests," she said, though she was already mentally cataloging what would need to be done.

"It doesn't need to be perfect. It just needs to be welcoming." Nico leaned back in his chair, looking pleased with himself. "Besides, nothing says 'I belong here' quite like throwing a party that brings the entire supernatural community together."

"A party?"

"A gathering. An open house. A chance for people to see that the inn is alive again and that its new owner is someone worth knowing.

" Nico's eyes glittered with the kind of anticipation that suggested he was already planning guest lists.

"Say, this weekend? Casual, friendly, the sort of thing that would draw a crowd. "

Lyra found herself nodding before she'd fully processed the implications. "This weekend. Right. I can do this weekend."

"Excellent. I'll spread the word through the usual channels."

"Usual channels?"

"Supernatural gossip network. More efficient than social media and twice as reliable." Nico stood, extending a hand to help her up. "One word of advice, though."

"What's that?"

"Don't invite Cade directly. Let him hear about it from someone else and make his own choice about whether to attend."

"You think he'll come?"

"I think he's miserable without you and looking for an excuse to stop being noble about the whole situation," Nico said with the confidence of someone who'd been observing supernatural relationship drama for centuries. "Sometimes pride just needs a convenient excuse to surrender."

As Lyra walked back toward the inn, her mind buzzing with plans and possibilities, she felt something shift in her chest. Her connection to Cade was still there, still singing with potential, but it no longer felt like a source of rejection and confusion.

Instead, it felt like a promise. A connection that existed whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not.

If Cade thought he could avoid her indefinitely, he was about to learn just how persistent a chaos witch could be when she set her mind to something. And if the town needed proof that she belonged in Mistwhisper Falls, she'd give them a gathering they'd never forget.

The Mist & Mirth Inn was about to come alive again, with or without the approval of one stubborn alpha wolf.

Though privately, Lyra was hoping for "with."