Page 49

I couldn’t explain it, not in words that belonged to language. There was no voice, no sound, no flash of magic or mind. But the thought settled behind my ribs with certainty.

I was part of this.

It wasn’t just a welcome or a mere witness; I belonged.

I breathed in the scent of warm stone, moss, salt, and embers. The air was thicker now, full of low vibration that curled around my skin and into my bones. I didn’t feel fear. There was no room for it. Only a vast, quiet understanding.

Another dragon moved closer, a dark green one whose horns twisted back across its head. Its eyes, deep and glassy, held no expression, and yet I felt it. That same hum. A question I couldn’t hear, yet answered without speaking.

I knelt, palms to the mossy floor, heart steady.

More than warmth flowed from the space between us. Memories not mine brushed across my mind: ancient stone cracked by fire, first flight against storm, eggs cradled in hidden earth. Time unraveled, wound again, stitched through me by presence alone.

They didn’t ask for allegiance.

They already had it.

I touched the floor, grounding myself. In that moment, the hatchling stirred again and opened her eyes. Not curiosity this time. Recognition. The breath between us held.

Something had been shared.

Something planted.

And though I couldn’t name it yet, I knew I was not just a protector.

I was woven into their story.

Even if I didn’t understand how. Not yet.

I stayed for a long while, watching the hatchling curl closer to her mother, watching the den settle again into its warm, glowing peace. The kind that had nothing to prove. The kind that simply was.

By the time I finally rose, the air had cooled again. The magic still hummed around me, but it was calm now, like the Academy had eaten well and settled in for a nap.

I turned at the door and whispered a final vow.

“I will keep the sacred safe.”

Then I stepped back into the world and began to plan for the battles yet to come.

I found Keegan in his classroom, and he followed me out of the Academy.

“Everything okay?”

“As they should be.”

“Fair enough.”

The second we stepped onto the cobbled path leading into Stonewick, I knew something had shifted. The air held a buzz of tension I couldn’t explain, despite the sunshine glinting off shop signs and the soft scent of lavender drifting from Luna’s yarn shop.

The dragon den's magic still pulsed faintly inside me. I could feel it behind my mark, steady and sacred. The vow I made there lingered on my breath like a sealant spell.

But something else was brewing. Something more immediate.

I turned the corner into the square, weaving past two students chatting in front of the apothecary, and made a direct line toward Nova’s shop.

The windows were fogged with incense smoke, and small talismans hung behind the glass, some to ward, some to invite. The kind of place that hummed with unseen truths.

The door creaked open with its familiar chime, and I stepped into a space scented with myrrh, lavender, and old books.

Candles flickered on recessed shelves. Tarot decks rested in neat rows along the sideboard.

Crystals and charms glimmered in low light, and one of the stained-glass panels cast ribbons of dusky pink across the floor.

But what stopped me wasn’t the ambiance.

It was the way all three faces turned to me. Nova behind the scrying counter, Skye seated comfortably in a velvet chair, and Celeste across from her, holding a steaming mug of something warm. Their expressions froze. Not in fear. Not in guilt. Just in that suspended moment of oops.

They looked like people who had just shared something they hadn’t meant to and were caught before they could redirect.

“Hey,” I said, trying for casual as I slipped off my coat. “You all look like I just walked in during a séance.”

Skye smiled, but too quickly. “Nothing like that. Just chatting.”

Celeste offered a soft grin, but I noticed the tension in her posture. The way her fingers curled tighter around her mug. Her eyes didn’t quite meet mine.

Nova stayed behind the counter, posture a little too still.

“Everything okay?” I asked, stepping further into the room.

Celeste stood suddenly. “Yeah. I’m just going to stretch my legs. These chairs are way too comfy.”

She disappeared into the back room before I could say anything else.

I glanced at Nova.

“Did something happen?”

Nova hesitated. Then, in a voice lower than before, said, “Not exactly. But I may have said too much.”

“What did you say?”

“She asked about tarot. About what I do. And what you do. And I answered a beat too slowly.”

I closed my eyes for a moment.

“She asked if I was like Luna,” Nova added. “If I was like you. ”

“And?”

“I didn’t lie,” Nova said softly. “But I didn’t explain either. Which means she’s imagining it all, and I’m afraid her guesses might be closer than the truth would be.”

Skye looked between us. “Wait…what’s going on? Is someone in trouble?”

“No,” I said. “Not yet.”

Nova leaned across the counter. “She’s starting to feel things, Maeve. To notice patterns. Energy. You can only hide the seams for so long. And you’ve woven her into the fabric whether you wanted to or not.”

I swallowed the knot rising in my throat.

“She’s not ready.”

“Neither were you,” Nova said.

The beads at the back rustled gently, and Celeste appeared again, mug still in hand. She paused just inside the doorway, her gaze flicking between the three of us.

“Hey, Mom?” she said carefully. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

There was something in her tone that twisted around my heart. Gentle. Open. But edged with intention.

“Yes,” I said. “Of course.”

We said our quick goodbyes. Skye looked between me and Nova like she was trying to finish a sentence she hadn’t been given the words for, but she stayed seated.

Outside, the sunlight fell through the branches above the path in scattered lines. Celeste and I walked in silence for a few moments.

She didn’t speak.

Neither did I.

But in the quiet, my butterfly mark fluttered.

And I knew whatever she was about to ask, it would unravel something that had been waiting in the shadows of our relationship for far too long.