Bearly Bewitched (Mystic Hollow #4)

Chapter 41

FORTY-ONE

V ail’s shoulders relaxed slightly. One less worry, at least for the moment. But as she turned back to the task of saving her school, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Tomorrow’s eclipse loomed like a shadow on the horizon. And somewhere out there, Ledger prepared to unleash power beyond anything they’d imagined.

Once the group had done everything they could to stabilize the academy, they met up at the entrance.

“All right,” Madame Zephyrine clapped her hands. “My house. Everyone.”

“What’s going on?” Daisy asked.

“We are going to feed you all,” Neve grinned. “Not just food. Tonight, you all used a lot of strength and power. We’ll help you restore some of it and feed your energies.”

“Okay, I’m in,” Romi said. “Xabir is too.”

“Yeah, I agree,” Ren sighed. “All the witches used up so much magic that we need to help you restore your energy.”

“You’re so bossy,” Sabine grumbled into his side. “I like it, though.”

“On that note,” Rook shook his head. “Let’s go.”

Madame Zephyrine’s Victorian mansion blazed with warmth against the gathering dusk. Magical lights twinkled in every window, and the scent of her famous restorative soup wafted from the kitchen. Inside, their ragtag group of defenders still covered in stone dust from the academy’s near-collapse had taken over the spacious dining room.

“I can’t believe you have dragon-shaped soup bowls,” Romi said, examining the ornate porcelain with delight. Lightning still occasionally crackled in her hair from overuse of storm magic.

“Birthday presents.” Neve stirred more restorative herbs into the soup pot. “From that lovely Chinese dragon family we met during our travels. Do pass the bread basket, dear.”

Sabine reached for it, then winced. Ren’s hand shot out to steady her, concern flickering across his usually stoic features. “Your shoulder?”

“Just a bit sore,” she assured him with a soft smile. “Though I wouldn’t say no to one of your magical massages later.”

“Get a room,” Rook called from where he sat with his arm draped protectively around Clover’s shoulders. She’d nearly depleted her earth magic stabilizing the academy’s foundations.

“Right, okay. But you’re the one who purrs every time Clover scratches behind your ears,” Xabir drawled, earning a bread roll thrown at his head. He caught it easily, years of shifter reflexes on display.

Vail watched her friends’ banter with tired amusement, grateful for this moment of normalcy after the day’s chaos. Her own magical exhaustion made even lifting her spoon feel like a monumental effort. A warm touch on her arm drew her attention to Kaine beside her.

“Eat,” he said quietly, sliding the bread basket closer. “You used too much power fighting the corruption.”

“Says the bear who spent hours battling shadow monsters,” she countered, but took a piece anyway. Their fingers brushed as she reached past him for the butter, sending a different kind of warmth through her tired muscles.

At the far end of the table, Felicity and Daisy had spread the restoration diary between their soup bowls, still excitedly comparing notes. “See?” Daisy pointed to a particular diagram with her spoon. “The energy always flows toward balance like it’s trying to fix something.”

“Not destroy hybrid magic—restore it,” Felicity mused. Her earlier uncertainty had been replaced by scholarly focus. “As if there’s some artificial division that needs healing.”

“Which explains why it resonates with the academy’s original design,” Burke added from his position by the fireplace. He’d refused to sit until he’d done a security sweep of the entire property. “The founders clearly understood something about magical integration that we’ve forgotten.”

“Or that someone deliberately obscured,” Madame Zephyrine said significantly, exchanging another loaded look with her sister. “There are older magics than what the council sanctions, after all.”

“Speaking of things the council should know about,” Romi said, stirring her soup, “what are we going to do about Ames? After what happened in the vault...”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

“He tried to warn us,” Burke said quietly. “At the end, before the crystal took full control. He was fighting it.”

“Where is he now?” Clover asked.

Ren answered. “Xabir and I put him in magical containment to let his body rest. We’ll see how he is in the morning.”

“Could we separate him from the crystal somehow?” Clover asked, leaning into Rook’s protective embrace. “Break Ledger’s hold over him?”

Kaine shook his head grimly.

“I’m sure Ledger wanted to use him as a conduit during the eclipse.” Vail sighed. “All that stolen power channeled through someone who already has a strong magical connection to the academy...”

“And to you,” Sabine added gently. “That kind of emotional resonance would amplify the ritual’s effects significantly.”

“Which is exactly what Ledger wants,” Neve said, her usual levity absent. “To twist every connection, every bond, into a source of corruption rather than strength.”

Daisy had fallen asleep at the table, her diary pillowed under her cheek. Felicity carefully moved the soup bowl before it could spill while Kaine tucked his jacket around his niece’s shoulders.

“Poor thing’s exhausted,” Madame Zephyrine said fondly. “Though I must say, her insights about magical balance are remarkably advanced for her age.”

“She takes after her father that way,” Neve agreed, refilling teacups with a wave of her hand. “Always looking for the deeper patterns others missed.”

Sabine stretched, then winced again. This time Ren didn’t just steady her—he pulled her chair closer, letting her lean against his solid warmth. The gesture made Rook mock-gag, earning an elbow from Clover.

“Like you’re any better,” Sabine shot back. “Who spent an hour yesterday practicing the perfect romantic dinner setup?”

Rook’s ears actually turned red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh really?” Burke grinned. “So those floating candles arranging themselves in heart shapes in your office was just... what? A magical accident?”

“Whatever,” Rook muttered as everyone dissolved into laughter again. But his arm tightened around Clover, who beamed up at him with pure affection.

Vail slipped out onto the porch, letting the cool evening air soothe her magical exhaustion. Madame Zephyrine’s garden sparkled with floating lights like earthbound stars, their gentle glow reflecting off the enchanted wind chimes. Her thoughts drifted inevitably to Kaine—his quiet strength during the battle, the way he’d protected those around him, how just being near him made her feel simultaneously safer and more alive.

She’d spent so long keeping people at arm’s length, focused solely on her duties as headmistress. But somehow Kaine had slipped past those carefully constructed walls, becoming as essential to her as magic itself.

Familiar footsteps approached, and her heart picked up speed before he even spoke. Her magic reacted to his presence, warming beneath her skin as if recognizing something vital. “How are you holding up?”

She turned to find him much closer than expected, close enough that she had to tip her head back to meet his eyes. The movement made her aware of every inch of space between them, every breath that could close that distance. Her fingers itched to trace the strong line of his jaw, to smooth away the worry lines around his eyes.

“Better than the academy’s magical barriers,” she managed, then sighed. “Sorry. Gallows humor.”

“I’ve noticed it tends to run in magical academies.” His slight smile transformed his whole face, softening the usual intensity of his features. That smile did things to her heart she wasn’t ready to name, made her want things she’d convinced herself she didn’t need.