Page 27 of How to Charm a Coven (How to Flirt with a Witch #2)

Dangerous Loyalties

O rdering my textbooks feels surreal, like I’m watching myself play the role of a student while my life crumbles to pieces.

Sitting at a picnic table in the C.S.A.M.M.

courtyard with my laptop, my eyes glaze over as I stare at the checkout page.

My mind keeps playing out different versions of how tonight’s invasion at Lighthouse Park will go—how the chimeras will respond, how the Shadows plan to capture them all, whether blood will be spilled.

But my degree is a huge part of the life I’m fighting to keep, and I need to do this. If I’m going to avoid witch prison, I need to make sure I maintain this fragile balance of—

Beside my laptop, my phone lights up with Hazel’s face.

My heart lurches. Okay, turns out some things are a higher priority than textbooks.

I abandon my laptop, where the timer on the checkout page warns me I only have four minutes left, and grab my phone.

“Still alive?” I answer, glancing around to ensure no witches are listening. They stroll past on their way to and from the lounge, and beside me, Ethel and another resident cat named Juniper watch the koi pond .

“Yeah.” Hazel’s voice is flat and tired, like she’s struggling with the emotional burden of everything as much as I am. “No indication that she’s using me to get to you.”

“Oh, thank God.” Relief floods through me—followed quickly by a knot in my stomach. I don’t like what comes next.

Neither does Hazel, apparently, because she’s quiet.

“You don’t have to spy for us if you don’t want to,” I say, watching a ladybug crawl across the picnic table. “I’ll tell Natalie off.”

“Don’t.” She sighs. “I don’t want you to argue because of me. Besides, I’m already working on finding out where Sophia lives.”

A skip of excitement in my chest betrays me. As much as I want to protect Hazel and avoid pressuring her to do this, it’s thrilling to think my best friend might be the key to helping the coven catch Sophia Madsen.

“But you don’t want to do this, do you?” I ask.

“Not really. But if Oaklyn is who you say she is, I have to learn more.”

“ If ? Hazel, she is exactly who I say she is.” I hunch down, dropping my voice. “She tried to abduct me. And then tried to kill me.”

“Yeah, I know.” She sounds unconvinced. Jesus, Oaklyn must be good in bed to make Hazel doubt what I’ve told her.

I rub my face. “The Shadows will need both Sophia and Oaklyn’s addresses so they can organize an ambush.”

“And kill them?” Hazel asks with a hardness in her voice.

The word sends a jolt through my chest. But based on what I know about the coven’s laws, killing wouldn’t be their first move. “Detain, ideally. But if they resist or get violent…”

Hazel snorts. “Yeah, as if they’ll go nicely.”

“I know. I know this is asking so much of you.” My heart cracks for her knowing how impossible this decision must be. If she doesn’t help us, people might die. But helping us means betraying the woman she cares about—and putting herself at risk of being discovered as a spy .

I really don’t want to ask her to do this. But how can I ignore the opportunity to catch the most dangerous people known to witches? So I stay quiet, letting her make the decision, ready to support her either way.

Leaves rustle on the willow tree, witches bend their heads together in murmured conversations, and white clouds drift overhead. The world keeps turning despite the magical war brewing.

“I’ll send you Sophia’s location as soon as I know it,” Hazel finally says, sounding resigned. “But give me some time. I…I need to understand all this and what I’m doing. It’s a lot to take in.”

My heart jumps. “Yeah. I get it. Just promise me that if Oaklyn seems suspicious, or you feel unsafe, or even if your gut just tells you something’s off…get the hell out of there.”

A pause. “I will.”

I don’t know what went through her mind in that hesitation, but I can only hope she’s not considering any alternative.

“Anyway, I should go,” she says. “Work meeting.”

“Wait. I wanted to…” I try to find the words to ask what’s burning in my chest. Cupping my hand over my mouth, I drop my voice lower. “Hazel, in your considerably rational opinion, do you think it’s worth investigating why I can hear the chimeras inside my head?”

Rustling in the background tells me she’s getting ready for her meeting. “I mean, yeah, but… Where would you start?”

My cheeks burn before I ask the question. “Do you think it’s possible I’m descended from witches?”

“Yes,” she says at once. “That would explain a lot.”

She didn’t hesitate. It’s everything I needed to hear.

I blow out a breath, as grateful as ever to have her in my life. “Maybe I can find records in one of the libraries. I’ll do some digging.”

A pile of leather-bound books flashes through my memory—the ones Natalie lobbed at me when we practiced throwing the golden net in the Alchemy room.

She got them from the library, where hundreds of books hold information about the history of witches, magic, and the coven.

There must be something in there about chimeras…

“What would it mean if you are?” Hazel asks, her voice bouncing as she walks. “Does it give you the right to become a you-know-what?”

“I doubt it, but…” I chew my lip. Better not tell her too much, given how close she is to Oaklyn. “I just want to know whether people before me could talk to chimeras, too.”

And if they could…then maybe Lucy wasn’t just manipulating me. Maybe my bone-deep calling really is to protect them.

In which case it’s me against the world. Against the coven, against Natalie, against everything I’m supposed to be doing.

And I’m so screwed.

As we hang up, my laptop screen dims, and I tap the trackpad. I should order those textbooks and pretend to be a normal student for a little while longer.

But there’s no going back to normal. Not when tonight, I’ll be leading witches to trap the creatures that might be the key to understanding who I am.

I drop my head into my hands, my stomach hurting. My loyalties are so torn that I feel like I’m being ripped in half.

Amid all this uncertainty, there’s one clear step forward: I need more information.

One hour until the ambush.

I wait until Natalie is busy coordinating with the Shadows before slipping away. She doesn’t need to know what I’m doing.

The library feels colder and darker than the rest of the building, as if to discourage people from staying.

Yellow light from an old brass lamp casts shadows across the towering bookcases.

Dust motes swirl in the beam of my phone’s flashlight as I scan the spines, some old and leather-bound, others new and glossy.

The Formation of a Coven: A History of Magical Governance

Principles of Earth Magic

The Guardian’s Handbook: A Guide to Curse Breaking

Riding His Broomstick: A Forbidden Coven Romance

Wait, what?

I pull out the pocket-sized book and find a broody man on the cover with smoldering purple eyes and his robes open to reveal a hairless chest. I guess witches need romance novels too.

I slide it back and keep going, passing shelf after shelf.

Alchemy in the Modern Age: Approved Methods and Materials

Between the books, artifacts sit behind glass cases—tarnished medallions, a gold feather that shimmers with its own light, a black gemstone that my fingers itch to touch…

The hairs on my arms lift, and I pause. Is someone coming?

I hold my breath, straining to hear footsteps, but nobody appears. Must be the magic in these relics setting off my sixth sense.

I sweep my flashlight beam across the far wall, illuminating what I hadn’t noticed before—an iron gate cordoning off a small, shadowy alcove. It’s deliberately isolated, the bars a clear warning to stay out.

Which means whatever’s in there is exactly what I’m looking for.

I approach the gate and run my fingers along the cold iron. A padlock secures it shut, and the bars seem to absorb all light. Inside, a few dozen books are arranged on narrow shelves.

“Screw it,” I mutter, unzipping my backpack and pulling out the gauntlet. It feels alive as I slip it on, that familiar hum of power vibrating up my arm .

I glance over my shoulder once more, then slam my fist into the lock. The sound echoes through the library like a gunshot, making me flinch. But the lock gives way, breaking open like it was made of paper.

Heart pounding, I push the gate open enough to squeeze through, wincing at the creak of hinges.

I scan the shelves quickly, the hair on the back of my neck prickling. God, I’m going to be in so much trouble if someone finds me looking for books about forbidden magic.

At last, my beam falls on a cloth-bound hardcover that looks promising.

Guardians of the Wild: A History of Magical Stewardship

I ease it off the shelf, cringing at the loud scrape. As I kneel and set it on the floor in front of me, it makes a deep thump .

The pages are yellowed and brittle beneath my fingers as I carefully turn them, and the text has faded with age—but the spine and corners are intact, telling me the book hasn’t been taken out much.

Prior to Western intervention, chimeras were integral members of Asian and Middle Eastern societies. Archaeological evidence suggests these beings served essential ecological functions, including restoring damaged ecosystems and maintaining the natural equilibrium in their territories.

My heart pounds faster. Okay, this fits what Lucy said.

I glance at the closed door and flip through the pages, searching for information about people who could communicate with the chimeras.

Finally, I find something, and my breath catches.

…certain regions produced individuals capable of telepathic communion with these entities, a phenomenon documented in Eastern manuscripts dating back to 600 CE.