Epilogue
Elowen
T wo weeks after the failed ritual, Rose's bookstore maintained a cautious normalcy. The damaged books had been repaired, the shelves reorganized (at least three times, thanks to Daisy's evolving system), and the protective wards reinforced to levels that would make most supernatural beings think twice before attempting any mischief.
But outside the safety of those wards, Midnight Creek remained a town divided.
I noticed it as I restocked the mythology section—the way customers carefully timed their visits to avoid encountering certain species. A vampire left hurriedly when two witches entered. Later, a werewolf family waited outside until a coven member had completed her purchase.
"The prejudices shift but don't disappear," Rose observed, joining me after the werewolf family finally entered. "The ritual's failure may have prevented catastrophe, but it didn't address the underlying disease."
"I thought things might improve after what happened," I admitted, shelving a rare volume on forest spirits. "After everyone saw what blood magic corruption leads to."
Rose's expression turned wry. "Fear can unite people temporarily against a common threat. But once that threat recedes..."
"Old prejudices resurface," I finished, thinking of the cold stares Rudy and I had received at the Silver Flask just last night—from both wolves uncomfortable with his choice of mate and witches who considered me a traitor to my kind.
Our bond was a reminder of the complicated political position we now occupied. Neither fully accepted by either community, yet connected to both.
"The books sense lingering corruption," Daisy announced, floating past with an armful of ancient texts. "Not the obvious kind from the blood ritual, but something more insidious. Older. Patient." Her opal eyes swirled with troubled patterns. "The romance novels are particularly concerned about it."
Before I could question this cryptic observation, the bell above the door chimed as Rudy entered. Through our bond, I felt his tension from navigating the increasingly chilly reception on Main Street, though his expression remained neutral as several customers watched his arrival with thinly veiled disapproval.
"Lola sends an update," he said, joining me by the mythology shelves. "The pack is stabilizing physically after the blood magic exposure, but the politics are... complicated."
"Meaning?" Rose asked quietly.
"Meaning half of them think working with witches to stop the ritual was necessary but temporary, while the other half think any cooperation was a betrayal of pack interests." His jaw tightened. "The alpha's disappearance has created a power vacuum, and those most resistant to interspecies cooperation are gaining influence."
The news wasn't surprising, but it was disappointing. I'd hoped that jointly facing an existential threat might have created some lasting bridges between communities.
"And Shadow Valley?" I asked.
"Even more isolated than before. The Glitter & Stone is one of the few establishments still serving mixed clientele." A ghost of a smile touched his lips. "Though Mr. Cash claims it's purely business, not principle."
"Of course, he does," Rose said dryly. "Self-interest is the only constant in that creature's moral compass."
The bell chimed again, this time admitting a flustered Charlotte, her arms laden with books and papers. "Sorry, I'm late," she announced, dropping her academic burden onto the counter. "Professor Katz kept me after our research meeting to discuss some fascinating anomalies in the ley line configurations under the north campus."
I moved to help her organize the chaos of materials, noting the titles of several advanced magical theory texts that would be challenging even for a trained witch, let alone a human researcher. "Oscar has you studying some heavy material," I observed.
"It's incredible, El." Charlotte's eyes shone with academic excitement, oblivious to the subtle stiffening of several witch customers nearby. "The ley line network under the college predates Midnight Creek itself. Professor Katz thinks it might be connected to why supernatural tensions run so high here—that the energy patterns somehow amplify natural species distinctions into active antipathy."
Through our bond, I felt Rudy's interest sharpen. "Oscar's researching why supernatural species can't get along in Midnight Creek? That's... convenient timing."
Charlotte frowned slightly. "It's legitimate research. He's been studying inter-species magical dynamics for decades."
"I'm sure he has," Rose interjected smoothly, though something in her tone suggested reservations. "His academic credentials are impeccable. Almost suspiciously so for someone whose published work spans only twenty years."
Before Charlotte could defend her mentor further, the bell chimed yet again. Oscar Katz himself stood in the doorway, his academic robes exchanged for a more casual but still impeccably tailored suit. As always, something about him seemed slightly misaligned with his surroundings—like a translation that captured the meaning but missed some essential nuance.
The atmosphere in the bookstore shifted immediately. Two witch customers moved closer together, their postures defensive. A young werewolf browsing the history section edged toward the exit. Whatever supernatural politics divided the town, Oscar somehow managed to make everyone equally uneasy.
"Ms. Montgomery," he greeted Rose with a slight bow. "I've brought the texts you requested on interdimensional boundaries." He placed a leather satchel on the counter. "As well as some additional references that might interest you, given recent events."
"Very kind, Professor." Rose accepted the satchel, her fingers brushing the clasp with a hint of magical assessment. "Will you join us for tea? I have questions about your observations during the ritual."
Oscar hesitated, his gaze briefly finding Charlotte, then shifting to me and Rudy. Something flickered behind his carefully composed expression—concern, perhaps, or some deeper emotion I couldn't identify.
"Another time, perhaps. The department meeting begins shortly, and the current... political climate requires careful navigation."
"Politics?" Charlotte asked, looking confused. "Is there trouble at the college too?"
Oscar's expression softened fractionally when addressing her, I noticed—a barely perceptible change that nonetheless caught my attention.
"The supernatural faculty are choosing sides, Miss Evers. The ritual's aftermath has accelerated existing divisions rather than healing them." His tone was clinical, academic, but I sensed genuine regret beneath the professional facade. "Several wolf professors have requested transfer to departments with fewer witch colleagues, while the coven-affiliated faculty are pushing for restricted access to certain magical archives."
"That's ridiculous," Charlotte protested. "After everything that happened, they're still letting these prejudices divide them?"
"Some would argue that what happened only confirms their suspicions," Oscar replied carefully. "The witches blame wolf involvement in the blood ritual, while the wolves point to witch vulnerability to magical corruption. Each sees the other as the primary threat."
"What do you see, Professor?" Rudy asked, his tone neutral despite the challenge in the question.
Oscar regarded him steadily. "I see patterns repeating across centuries, Mr. Kane. Divisions exploited, natural wariness transformed into active hostility." Something ancient flickered in his eyes. "I see a game board where the pieces move themselves, never questioning who designed the rules of play."
The cryptic response hung in the air, disrupting the bookstore's magical harmonies enough that several volumes on nearby shelves rearranged themselves nervously.
"But enough metaphysics for one afternoon," Oscar continued, his academic persona firmly back in place. "Miss Evers, shall we continue our research after your visit here? The northern quadrant mapping should be completed before the equinox if we're to document the seasonal flux properly."
"Of course, Professor." Charlotte gathered her materials, her excitement about the research momentarily dampened by the sobering conversation about campus politics. "I'll just be an hour or so."
After Oscar departed, the atmosphere in the store gradually relaxed, customers returning to their browsing with only occasional wary glances at our unusual gathering—a witch, a werewolf, a human researcher, and whatever Daisy actually was.
"He's hiding something," Rudy said quietly once we had relative privacy behind the counter. "Something beyond academic interest in supernatural politics."
"Everyone hides something," Rose replied, unpacking the books Oscar had delivered. "The question is whether his secrets threaten or protect."
"It's the ley lines," Charlotte interjected earnestly. "His research could change everything about how we understand supernatural conflicts. If these tensions aren't just cultural or historical, but actually influenced by the magical geography beneath our feet—"
"Then someone might be able to manipulate those influences," I finished, the implications suddenly clear. "For better or worse."
Rose's expression turned thoughtful. "Control the ley lines, control the supernatural dynamics of the region." She glanced toward Charlotte with newfound concern. "A powerful knowledge for anyone to possess, let alone share with a human student."
"I can handle it," Charlotte said, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice. "Professor Katz wouldn't involve me if he didn't think so."
Through our bond, I felt Rudy's protective instinct stir at the mention of Charlotte potentially becoming entangled in dangerous knowledge. "Be careful," he advised. "Academic interest isn't always purely academic, especially in Midnight Creek."
"Says the werewolf mated to a witch," Charlotte countered with a small smile. "You two aren't exactly following conventional wisdom either."
She had a point. Our own situation hardly gave us standing to question unexpected alliances. Through our bond, I felt Rudy acknowledge the irony with reluctant amusement.
As evening approached and customers dwindled, Rose insisted we take time for ourselves, claiming she and Daisy had matters under control at the store. "Go. Enjoy dinner at the Silver Flask. Show the town that your bond isn't weakened by their disapproval."
"Public opinion isn't exactly supportive right now," I warned. "We're getting cold shoulders from both sides."
"All the more reason to be visible," Rose replied firmly. "Change doesn't come from hiding in safety."
Before we left, she handed me a small package that had arrived earlier. "From your roommate Toni. She seems to be having her own inter-species adventures."
The package contained a small crystal carved with protection sigils and a note in Toni's distinctive handwriting:
El,
Call it witch's intuition, but I sense your life has taken some unexpected turns. This protection amulet is specifically designed for bonds across species—a little something my grandmother taught me before the coven's restrictions tightened.
Gideon and I are thinking of visiting Midnight Creek once the semester ends. The coven's disapproval of our relationship is getting exhausting, and honestly, we could use some solidarity. From what you've told me, sounds like you understand exactly what we're facing.
Solidarity forever,
Toni
"Another witch-non-witch pair facing prejudice," I murmured, showing the note to Rudy. "Seems like we're not alone in challenging traditions."
"Small comfort when facing the daily reality," he observed, though I felt his appreciation for the connection through our bond.
“But you know," I murmured, tracing my fingers over the mate mark on my shoulder, "I always thought if magic ever truly changed my life, it would be because I lost control of it. But that’s not what happened." I met his gaze, warm and knowing. "I wasn’t bewitched. I was bewolfed."
Rudy grinned, squeezing my hand.
As we prepared to leave, Daisy materialized beside us, her form more solid than usual. "The romance novels have been consulting with the prophecy section," she announced. "They believe Professor Katz and Miss Evers stand at a similar crossroads to your own, though with... complications unique to their circumstances."
"What kind of complications?" I asked, curious despite myself.
Daisy's smile turned enigmatic. "Some secrets aren't mine to reveal. But the threads of their story intertwine with yours in ways even the mystery section finds intriguing. Watch the northern ley lines when the semester changes. Magic rises there that hasn't stirred in centuries."
With that cryptic pronouncement, she vanished back into the stacks, leaving Rose to shake her head fondly. "She's been even more mystical than usual since the ritual disruption. But her insights are rarely wrong, just unhelpfully phrased."
Outside, Midnight Creek's magical layer shimmered visibly to my witch sight—the wards stronger in some ways since the ritual's disruption, different in others. But beneath that surface stability, currents of tension flowed through the town like invisible rivers, separating communities that should have been united.
A witch mother pulled her child closer as we passed. A werewolf shopkeeper pointedly turned his back. Small gestures of disapproval that accumulated like tiny cuts.
Rudy's hand found mine, warm and solid, our bond humming with shared determination despite the silent hostility. "Still glad you came back to Midnight Creek?" he asked, only half-joking.
I thought of Rose safely home in her bookstore. Of the blood magic corruption stopped, at least temporarily. Of the unexpected connection I'd found with a lone wolf who understood the value of freely chosen bonds.
"I'm exactly where I need to be," I answered, squeezing his hand as we walked proudly down Main Street, ignoring the stares. "Whatever comes next."
***
Thank you for reading Elowen and Rudy’s story.
If you’re not ready to leave Midnight Creek, check out Oscar and Charlotte’s story, My Professor is a Demon .
And don’t forget to check out Bespelled , Toni and Gideon’s story.