Chapter 1
ONE
T he morning sun streamed through Spellbound Lights’s enchanted windows, painting the polished wooden floors with dancing rainbow prisms. Clover Weaver breathed in the layered scents of her shop—beeswax and herbs, crystallized magic and possibilities. Each inhale centered her, a reminder of everything she’d built here.
“No, no, the energy’s all wrong.” She shifted a Moonlight Meditation candle a fraction of an inch in her signature “Mood Match” pyramid display. The subtle adjustment aligned the magical currents perfectly, creating a soft harmony with the other carefully placed candles. Lavender Dream for peaceful sleep, Mountain Storm for mental clarity, Summer Joy for lifting spirits—each one infused with specific magical properties and arranged to enhance their collective power.
“Clover!” Halle’s voice rang out from the storage room, followed by the sound of boxes being reorganized. “The new shipment of beeswax arrived, but these aren’t singing like the last batch. Not even humming. Should I test them? Please say yes. Last time I got to float for ten whole minutes!”
“Absolutely not.” Clover tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear, fighting a smile at her assistant’s boundless enthusiasm. “No testing without supervision. Have you already forgotten the Valentine’s Day incident?”
Halle’s auburn curls appeared around the doorframe, followed by her bright, freckled face. “That couple needed a push anyway. Now they’re happily married with two kids.”
“They got stuck speaking in rhyming couplets for a week.”
“Romantic couplets!” Halle emerged fully from the storage room. “Besides, Mrs. Heatherbottom said it spiced up their marriage. Apparently, dirty limericks are very?—”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” But Clover couldn’t quite hide her amusement. At twenty-two, Halle brought an infectious joy to the shop that balanced Clover’s more methodical nature. Most days, she appreciated the contrast. Other days... well, at least there hadn’t been any accidental love spells recently.
“Fine, be a spoilsport.” Halle started arranging their new collection of enchanted oil diffusers. “But I still say we should market those romance candles more aggressively. ‘Guaranteed to make your love life more poetic or your money back!’“
“That’s not—” Clover broke off as Poe, her crow familiar, swooped down from his perch near the ceiling to land on her shoulder.
“Customer incoming,” he muttered in her ear, feathers ruffling. “Big one. Tiger energy. And...” he cocked his head, “something else. Power, old power.”
The shop’s brass bell chimed before Clover could respond. The door swung open, bringing a wave of raw energy that made every enchanted item in the shop vibrate. The force of it hit Clover like a physical entity, setting off every magical alarm she possessed. Her hands tightened on the display table as she glanced up.
Oh.
Oh no.