Page 37 of Magical Melee (Stonewick Magical Midlife Witch Academy #1)

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the warm, comforting smell of something delicious cooking. The second was the sound of Stella humming a cheerful tune, her voice lilting through the cottage like sunshine breaking through the clouds.

I stretched, feeling surprisingly refreshed.

After days of chaos, battle, and restless nights, I finally managed to get some real sleep. I climbed down from the loft, my bare feet padding softly on the wooden floor as I followed the scent of roasting vegetables and baking bread to the kitchen.

Stella stood at the counter with rolled-up sleeves.

She moved with practiced ease, slicing carrots and tossing them into a large pot on the stove. The pot stirred itself with a wooden spoon, moving in smooth, rhythmic circles. I did a doubletake and smiled.

On the countertop, a doughy mass was kneading on its own, folding and stretching like a baker’s invisible hands were at work.

“Morning, sunshine,” Stella said without turning around, her tone bright and cheerful. “Sleep well?”

“Like a rock,” I said, leaning against the doorway. “What time is it?”

“Time to get cooking,” she replied with a grin. “Thanksgiving waits for no one.”

I smiled and stepped into the kitchen. “Need help?”

“Always,” Stella said, tossing me a peeler. “Start with those potatoes. And while you’re at it, let’s teach you a little something.”

A chill skated over me, and Stella’s smile grew larger. “Good morning, Miora.”

I spun around to see the true caretaker of the cottage and smiled. Since the battle, I hadn’t seen or heard her.

Miora tilted her head and smiled. “Oh, I’m just in time.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A cooking spell?”

Stella winked. “The best kind.”

She placed a small bowl of herbs in front of me. The fresh, earthy aroma filled the air.

“This spell will make peeling those spuds a breeze. Just a simple charm to encourage cooperation between you and the veggies.”

I picked up a sprig of rosemary and held it between my fingers as Stella instructed. “Repeat after me: Culina Octuria .”

“Culina Octuria,” I echoed, feeling a slight tingle as the words left my lips.

“Good,” Stella said, her eyes twinkling. “Now, tap the potato with the sprig.”

I did as she said.

To my amazement, the potato’s skin began to loosen and peel away on its own, curling into neat strips.

Miora clapped her hands together and disappeared into thin air.

I let out a delighted laugh. “That’s incredible!”

“Keep going,” Stella encouraged. “Thanksgiving is a marathon, not a sprint.”

As I worked, Stella continued to hum, occasionally flicking her wand to send a dish or utensil flying to its proper place. The kitchen felt alive with magic and warmth, the perfect balance of old-fashioned cooking and supernatural efficiency.

“Weren’t we going to go to Keegan’s hotel for Thanksgiving?” I asked, turning to watch Stella sip a cup of tea.

“After everything that happened, we decided it was probably safer for us to stay at the cottage.”

My brows lifted. “Safer?”

“Indeed.”

I didn’t press.

By the time Keegan arrived, the cottage was filled with the rich, savory smells of roasting turkey, caramelizing onions, and freshly baked bread.

He walked in carrying a basket of apples.

“Where’s your big sword?” I teased.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” His usual gruff tone was softened by a faint smile as I blushed and looked away.

“Very funny,” I grumbled.

He set the basket on the counter and glanced around. “Smells amazing in here. Happy Thanksgiving.”

“Thank you,” Stella said, taking the apples. “Maeve is quite the chef. You’re just in time. We’re about to put the pies in the oven.”

Keegan shrugged off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. “How can I help?”

I couldn’t help but notice how big and muscular his forearms were as the fabric revealed his toned arms. But what impressed me more was how willing he was to get in and help us out with dinner. In all my years of marriage, Alex never once lifted a finger.

I glanced at Stella, who looked back at me, and I frowned, walking over to the hutch to grab my special spell so Alex thoughts tasted bitter again.

As Keegan got to work, Ember and Nova arrived, each carrying their own contributions—a basket of herbs from Nova and a tray of honey-glazed pecans from Ember. The kitchen grew even livelier as they joined in, their laughter and chatter mixed with the clatter of pots and pans, and I never dreamed my Thanksgiving would be okay without Celeste.

Just the thought of my daughter made my heart ache. I swallowed the potion and sighed.

“Pardon me,” I said softly. “I’m going to text Celeste.”

Nova smiled and nodded as I slipped out of the room. Frank was just waking up again when I sat on the couch with my cell phone and sent a quick message wishing Celeste a Happy Thanksgiving.

Her message back surprised me.

I miss you, mom. Please promise me we can have Christmas together. Dad’s girlfriend is so annoying. She’s just two years older than me. Two! But she acts like she’s in high school.

I chuckled to myself, realizing he’d already switched mistresses again. The last one was at least thirty. Although, I guess they weren’t technically mistresses since we were officially divorced.

My mouth filled with a vinegar-like taste from the potion, and I scowled and wrote back.

I love you and miss you more than you can imagine. Working at the tea shop has been surprisingly exciting. Can’t wait to see you soon.

“Maeve,” Stella called.

“Do come in,” Miora repeated.

Ah, she’s back. I chuckled to myself and hopped up.

Stella nodded toward the pile of cranberries on the counter.

“Show them the spell you learned,” Miora gestured with a wispy hand.

I felt a small surge of pride and picked up the sprig of rosemary. “Watch this,” I said, giving Keegan a quick glance as I murmured, “Culina Octuria.”

The cranberries immediately began to hop and roll into the pot, their shiny red skins gleaming as they piled in perfectly.

For a moment, I basked in their impressed expressions.

“That’s not bad,” Ember said, leaning on the counter. “Looks like you’ve got the hang of it.”

Feeling bold, I decided to try something more advanced.

“How about this?” I said, picking up a whisk. I waved the rosemary over the bowl of heavy cream, concentrating hard. “ Culina Octuria , double-time.”

The whisk sprang to life, spinning wildly. But instead of focusing on the cream, it whipped the air and danced around the kitchen, banging into pots, pans, and glasses.

My eyes widened as I darted toward the whisk, hoping to catch it.

For a second, it seemed like everything was under control—until the whisk shot out of my hands.

Miora soared toward the flying object and missed it, going through the wall instead.

“Uh-oh,” I said, backing up as the whisk darted dangerously close to Keegan’s head.

“Watch it!” he said, ducking just in time.

The whisk ricocheted off a cabinet and smacked into the wall, sliding into the bowl of heavy cream.

But it wasn’t done. The whisk zipped through the air, flinging dollops of cream.

Stella let out a laugh as she ducked behind the counter, and even Nova cracked a rare smile as she calmly deflected the rogue utensil with a flick of her staff.

“Got it!” Ember said, lunging forward and grabbing the whisk out of midair.

She held it triumphantly, her hair slightly spattered with filling.

“And that’s why you don’t double-time your spells without supervision.”

I chuckled. “Okay, lesson learned.”

Keegan leaned against the counter, his hazel eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re dangerous with a whisk.”

“Only slightly,” I said, feeling a warmth spread through me that had nothing to do with the fireplace.

Stella clapped her hands as her smile widened. “Alright, back to work, everyone. We’ve got a feast to finish.”

Miora reappeared, but I felt her gaze on me as if she were studying my every move. I tried to brush off the feeling, but it was difficult. There was something about her that felt extremely familiar. Every so often, she’d float over to Frank and sit next to him.

If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were chatting.

The energy in the room was infectious as we returned to our tasks, each of us contributing in our own way. The spells, the laughter, and the shared effort all blended into something magical, something that felt like home.

For the first time in a long while, I almost felt truly at peace and knew who I needed to reach out to.

My mom.

I was no longer angry at her.

Confused?

Yes.

I looked around the table, which was a feast of indulgence. Every dish was carefully crafted and delicious.

The turkey, golden and crispy, sat as the centerpiece, surrounded by bowls of mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, stuffing, and pies of every kind. The air was thick with the warmth of good food and good company, the tension of recent battles momentarily forgotten.

Stella raised her glass, her face glowing in the flickering light of the candles.

“To us,” Stella said, her voice carrying a mix of pride and resolve. “To Stonewick.”

The rest of us raised our glasses in turn.

Keegan, sitting to my left, gave a solemn nod, his eyes golden and thoughtful.

Nova, ever composed, lifted her glass with a faint smile while Ember flashed her usual mischievous grin.

“To survival,” Twobble said, raising a mug nearly as big as his head, scaring the crap out of me.

My cup nearly flew out of my hands in surprise. “I didn’t know you were here,” I said with a pounding heart.

“I’m a sneaky little bugger.” He winked. “And to the best feast I’ve had since… well, ever.”

Laughter rippled around the table.

This holiday was a welcome break from the weight of everything we’d been facing.

For a while, we could let ourselves enjoy the meal, putting everything else out of our minds.

Frank sat happily under the table, his stubby tail wagging in anticipation of any scraps that might fall.

As the meal wound down, we migrated to the sitting area near the fireplace. Frank claimed his spot on the rug by the fireplace, his snoring quickly filling the room as we all settled into a comfortable quiet. Stella stood and clapped her hands, her eyes twinkling.

“Maeve,” she said, beckoning me toward the fireplace. “Time for a little lesson.”

I raised an eyebrow, curious. “What kind of lesson?”

She showed me the last long wooden match in the box and tossed it in the neatly stacked logs in the fireplace. “No match required.”

“I hope you’re right because that was the last match.” I knelt by the hearth.

Stella smiled and stood behind me. “Just focus. Think of the fire as a living thing, something you’re inviting to join us. When you’re ready, you can snap your fingers or blink. Really anything that lets the fire know that its company is appreciated.”

“Okay.” I nodded, trying to imagine flames as a wild and dancing creature, feeling the heat bouncing off my body. With a flick of my fingers, I snapped them together and fresh flames hungrily licked at the wood.

I squealed and jumped up with delight as Nova nodded with approval.

“Well done.”

“Perfect,” Stella said, her voice filled with quiet agreement. “The fireplace isn’t just for warmth. It’s a symbol of protection, a reminder that no matter how dark it gets, we’ll always have light.”

I stood, the fire’s warmth seeping into my skin. It was a simple act, but it felt deeply grounding.

Keegan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. His gaze lingered on me, and I felt that same spark between us. An unspoken connection had been growing stronger with each passing day, but I knew I wasn’t ready.

Far from it.

But I couldn’t help but admit that it was both thrilling and unsettling.

“So,” I said, breaking the quiet, “what’s next?”

Keegan’s expression darkened slightly. “We prepare and wait.”

“For what?” I asked, frowning.

“For Gideon’s next move,” Nova said, her tone even but resolute. “Shadowick doesn’t strike without a strategy. They’ll come again when they think they have the upper hand.”

“And we’ll be ready,” Stella added, though her voice carried a hint of weariness.

The idea of waiting, of sitting in this cozy bubble while danger loomed, didn’t sit well with me.

My mind wandered back to the Academy. Its ancient halls were filled with untapped power and knowledge that I had the chance to learn. The thought of what I could acquire there tugged at something deep inside.

I felt someone watching me and looked up to see Miora’s gaze fastened on mine.

It was hard to believe that she’d been here since I moved in.

I didn’t say anything, though. Not yet. The others were focused on the immediate threat, on reinforcing the wards and fortifying Stonewick’s defenses.

But I couldn’t shake the feeling that waiting for Gideon to make the next move wasn’t enough.

I didn’t know much, but I understood that the Academy was somehow at the center of it all.

Standing by the window, I stared out into the dark woods. The fire crackled softly behind me, and an owl's distant hoot broke the night's quiet.

Stella appeared at my side, her presence calm and steady.

“You did well today, Maeve,” she said, her voice warm. “You’re finding your place here. I know it’s not easy without your daughter.”

“Thanks,” I said, my gaze still fixed on the shadows outside. “I just wish I could do more.”

“You’re doing plenty,” she replied. “Don’t underestimate yourself.”

I nodded, but the restless feeling in my chest didn’t ease. Stella gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder before heading to the kitchen to tidy up.

And I did what I had to do. I pulled out my phone and texted my mom that I was in Stonewick.

It took a few minutes, but I received her reply.

How could you? I’m in the middle of nowhere. Stonewick is nothing more than a racket. Stay away.

I shook my head and sighed, writing quickly.

It’s too late. I’ve moved into the cottage and it’s where I’m meant to be.

A minute went by, and she wrote back.

You’re just like your father and look what happened to him.

I typed quickly.

That’s precisely the problem, Mom. I don’t have a clue about what truly happened to him.

She wrote back.

And it’s going to stay that way.

I pressed my lips together and texted a quick I love you and Happy Thanksgiving , realizing she’d probably never give me the answers I’d hoped for.

But as if on cue, Skye sent me several photos and a note about Thanksgiving, and that nearly washed away the feelings from my mom. I smiled at her words and sent a text back. I missed her, but I knew I’d see her soon.

As the cottage settled into a peaceful quiet, I couldn’t shake the pull I felt—the pull back to the Academy. The memory of its grand halls, the pulse of its magic, and the robed figure’s words about learning my true potential lingered in my mind. I knew I had to return.

Not tonight, not with everyone still awake, but soon.

For now, I’d let them believe I was content to wait.

But in my heart, I knew my path led back to the Academy.