Chapter 7—Declan
I STRIDE THROUGH THE winding streets of Evershift Haven, heart banging in my ears. My mind churns. Vandria’s stunned expression when I left her store, the lantern’s brilliant glow right after we... I shake my head, trying to banish the memory that refuses to go away.
Late-night lanterns bob overhead, flickering pastel lights across the cobblestones. The townspeople are still partying, but I ignore their curious glances. They probably see my agitation and guess it’s about the vampire who’s snared my heart. A cluster of them whisper, but I’m done being their sideshow.
I pass a row of shops with closed shutters. Candles burn low in the lampposts, shaped like hearts that drip pink wax. The whole place feels like it’s pressing in on me as I search for Grizelda. From what I’ve gleaned during my brief stay, she’s the only one who can remove this so-called “hex” or “guiding spell” or whatever meddling enchantment tricked me. My chest burns with the aftermath of too many swirling emotions.
I jerk to a halt at a wrought-iron gate that squeaks when I open it. The front yard is a tapestry of exotic plants with gleaming leaves, some releasing tiny puffs of glowing pollen. A narrow path leads to a bright purple door. Painted steppingstones hop gently beneath my feet, as though assisting me along. A swirl of wind lifts the corner of my jacket, carrying the scent of rosemary and something floral.
I bang on the door. “Grizelda?” My voice echoes across the yard. “We need to talk.”
No immediate response. My teeth grind. A sign shaped like a broomstick dangles from the handle and reads Closed For Cat Nap . I pound again. “Open up.” A cat’s hiss sounds on the other side, then a rustle of movement.
The door swings open, revealing a woman with green skin and wild purple hair streaked silver. Her robe drips with embroidered runes, and the fabric reveals her pregnancy. Those bright, curious eyes scan me. She’s not the slightest bit surprised to see me. “Declan,” she says, voice smooth. “I wondered when you’d come around.”
I push past her into a foyer that’s cluttered with floating jars and half-labeled potion bottles. A black cat perches on a wooden stool, tail flicking. My eyes skim over shelves of shimmering powders, dried herbs, and various mismatched trinkets. Everything hums with that intangible energy I’ve come to associate with Evershift magic. My fists tighten at my sides.
“I want you to remove the hex,” I say, doing my best not to shout. My breath comes hard. “Or whatever it is that forced me into—”
She slides the door shut calmly, then faces me with a tilt of her chin. “Forced you?”
I swallow. “Yes. That lantern, the illusions, and the entire town pushing me toward Vandria. You must have something that can break this.”
A sparkle of amusement crosses her gaze, though her tone stays measured. “Sit down, dear, before you topple my potions with your pacing or disturb Atlas. He’s asleep, and he’s grumpy if he doesn’t get his full nine hours.” She gestures to a small table near the hearth, where a teapot puffs pink steam. The cat leaps from the stool, strolling lazily around me before curling up near the fire.
I remain standing, arms rigid. “I don’t want tea. I want answers.”
She hums in acknowledgment, taking her time to set two teacups on the table. “You smell like heartbreak. So does the air around you. Spells can’t cause heartbreak, dear boy, unless they reveal something you refused to face.”
My nostrils flare. “Then undo it.” My voice echoes in the cottage’s wooden rafters. “Stop the heartbreak, the illusions, everything.”
She settles onto a creaky chair. “Magic doesn’t force love or desire, Declan. If you think it did, you’re mistaken.” Her eyes gleam with quiet sympathy.
My jaw tenses. “Then why did that lantern do what it did? It flared up right when—” Heat flushes my neck. “Right when we—”
She lifts a brow. “When you two consummated your connection?”
A low growl of frustration slips from my throat. “Yes.”
She pours tea into delicate cups. The liquid swirls with faint sparkles, releasing a soothing aroma of chamomile and lavender. “Lanterns sense truth. It recognized you accepted your feelings, even if only for a moment.” She hands me a cup. “Drink. It’ll help calm your nerves.”
I want to refuse, but the constriction in my chest intensifies. My fingers shake as I seize the teacup, ignoring the gentle swirl of magic around the rim. One sip floods my mouth with warmth, reducing the tightness in my breathing. “Calm” isn’t the same as “fix,” though.
She leans forward, expression earnest. “The lantern’s magic never forced anything. It’s designed to open your heart to possibilities. The rest was always your choice.”
I glare into the teacup. “It didn’t feel like a choice when I was locked in that store with a glowing orb.”
Her lips twitch with a barely hidden smile. “Haven’t you heard of coincidences?”
I slam the teacup onto the table, liquid sloshing over the rim. “You’re telling me being locked in was coincidence?”
She sighs, gesturing with both hands in an are-you-really-that-surprised way. “All right, maybe I had a role in that part. The festival’s final scavenger clue often leads to forced quality time for pairs who are too stubborn to see what’s in front of them.” She picks up a napkin, dabs the spilled tea. “But the emotions? The attraction? That’s all you.”
I grit my teeth. “I barely know her. Everything happened so fast.”
She sets the napkin aside. “Fast or slow, real connections form as they will. Magic only helps nudge what’s already possible.”
My pulse thunders. My mind replays the rush of Vandria’s lips, the surge of devotion that soared in my chest, and the sheer panic that followed when the lantern flared. I rub my temples. “I never asked for this. I can’t handle being told I’m part of some cosmic pairing. My life was supposed to be my choice, not fate’s.”
Grizelda’s gaze softens. “Even if you disclaim fate, can you disclaim what you feel?”
A hiss of air escapes me. “I don’t know.”
She turns her attention to a swirling orb on a nearby shelf. Soft candlelight highlights the worry lines around her eyes. “I recall your grandmother telling me a story. You always sought meaning beyond the battlefield. Then you tried to find meaning as a florist but still felt adrift. She’s certain Evershift Haven is your real chance.”
I recoil. “My grandmother told you that?”
“She wrote me months ago, asking if I had a subtle guiding spell for a lost grandson. She suspected your heart needed a place like this.” She shrugs. “I offered the spell. That’s all. The lantern was just a tool.”
My mind reels. “Gran arranged this?”
Grizelda nods. “She never wanted to force anything. She only lit your path, trusting you’d find your own reason to stay. She’s on her way here, by the way.”
The floor seems to drop from under my feet. “That can’t be real. She’s back home. Or was.” A wave of betrayal collides with confusion.
Grizelda stands, rummaging through a shelf of potions in neat rows. “Bethany missed Evershift Haven for decades. She left for her own reasons but always thought you might fit here. She helped your road trip along with one small enchantment to glitch your GPS, just enough to drive you into the barrier.” She drops a bag of dried herbs onto the table. “No malicious hex, Declan. Just a chance to find your place. The rest is up to you.”
My limbs feel disconnected. Silence stretches as I stare at the scattered potion bottles. My throat works, but no words come. The swirl of betrayal at my grandmother is overshadowed by the bigger truth. The lantern didn’t create my bond with Vandria. It only revealed it. My chest tightens all over again.
“Was any of it real?” My voice cracks on the last word.
She steps closer, resting a cool palm on my shoulder. “Ask yourself that question, not me.” She tilts her head at the door. “Because someone’s waiting out there to find out your answer.”
My pulse jolts. I pivot, glimpsing motion through the window. Vandria stands on the porch. She’s wearing the same jacket from earlier, arms folded around her middle. Even from here, she exudes a tension that matches mine.
“Hello? Grizelda?” She sounds uncertain. My entire body tenses as I swallow hard. I’m definitely not ready, but she’s here.
Grizelda meets my gaze then gestures for me to decide. My feet refuse to move. She steps into the foyer, pausing when she sees me. That flash of hurt returns to her face, replaced quickly by a guarded mask. “Declan.” She says my name quietly, gaze flicking between me and Grizelda. “I heard voices. Figured you’d be here.”
My mouth opens, but words evade me. She lifts her chin, clearly bracing for more rejection. That subtle shift in her posture twists my stomach in knots.
Grizelda breaks the tension by clearing her throat. “Vandria, dear, I suspect you two have things to discuss.” She raises an eyebrow at me. “You might want to wait until after your grandmother arrives.”
I snap to attention, startled. “She’s here already?”
A new voice drifts in through the open door. “I made good time.”
I spin around. My grandmother, Bethany, stands at the threshold, looking far spryer than I remember. Her silver hair is pulled into a neat bun, and her cheeks are flushed with excitement. She clutches a carpetbag that probably holds half her life’s belongings. My shock morphs into an odd wave of relief and betrayal, all tangled together. She sets down the bag, scanning the room.
“Hello, dear boy.” She clucks her tongue at me. “You look like you haven’t slept.”
I sputter. “Gran.” My throat constricts, and I’m uncertain whether to hug her or demand an explanation.
She takes away the choice by stepping forward and wrapping me in a firm hug. My arms fall around her shoulders automatically. Vandria stands behind us, silent.
Gran draws back, hands on my shoulders. “Let me see your face. Mercy me, you do look awful.” She turns a bright smile on Grizelda and Vandria.
Vandria’s expression is carefully neutral. Her gaze remain trained on me, though.
I step away from my grandmother. “Gran, please tell me this is some misunderstanding. You didn’t really plan all this behind my back.”
Her expression twists with sadness. “I nudged you. You’ve been lost, sweet boy. I guessed you might find what you wanted here. So I wrote Grizelda, arranged a small guiding enchantment. The rest was up to fate.”
My chest flares with anger. “I’m not a puppet, Gran.”
She sighs, tears brimming in her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry if it felt that way, but you were drifting. You never told me you were happy or content. I wanted you to have a chance at real belonging.”
Grizelda edges around us to put the kettle back on, giving us space. Vandria lingers near the door, arms tight across her body. I can’t take my gaze off her. The memory of how I left sits heavy in my gut.
Gran asks, “You blame me for interfering?”
My jaw locks. “I might, but I also blame this place—everyone’s illusions, that lantern—”
A sharp sniff from Bethany. “Illusions only reveal what you already carry. I did nothing but open the path.” She glances at Vandria, who looks torn between leaving or staying. “I see you’ve complicated matters.”
That’s the understatement of the year. I run a hand down my face, wrestling with the swirl of anger and heartbreak. “I can’t just accept fate meddling in everything, Gran. I need to know I have a choice.”
She lays a gentle palm on my cheek. “You always have a choice, Declan. Magic never forces love. The only question is whether you want to embrace the love you’ve found.”
Silence. The tension in my chest returns as my gaze drifts to Vandria. She’s quiet, eyes shining with unshed tears, and her posture guarded. My heart wrenches.
Gran steps aside, giving me a direct line of sight to Vandria. “Stop torturing yourselves,” she murmurs softly. “None of this is destiny commanding you. You decide.”
Grizelda’s cat slinks across the floor, weaving between our legs as though encouraging us to talk. Vandria shifts her weight, exhaling. “Declan.” She doesn’t continue, perhaps not trusting her voice.
I force a breath. “I... I’m sorry,” I manage. The words come haltingly. “I freaked out, and I left you alone.”
Her throat works. “Yeah, you did.”
My mind races, searching for how to explain. “I never believed in soulmates or fated love. Then that lantern flared, and everything felt locked in. I panicked.”
She nods once, lips pinched. “I understand.”
Grizelda collects her cat, slipping out of the room with Bethany in tow. They vanish into a side chamber, giving us privacy. The hush returns. Vandria’s gaze flips from the open doorway to me. “So you hate me now, or...?”
I cross the space between us, stopping a foot away. “No. Never hated you.” My pulse hammers. “I hate feeling like I’m not in control of my own life. This place has me spinning.”
Her arms remain folded, knuckles white. “Magic thrives on chaos, but it never tried to chain you, not truly.”
I step closer, lifting a hand in a silent request for permission to touch her. She hesitates, and a heartbeat passes. Then she lowers her arms, letting me rest a palm on her shoulder. The contact sparks a wave of warmth that floods me with longing. The memory of her body pressed to mine in that candlelit storeroom flickers through my mind, stealing my breath.
My eyes close for a second. “I ran because I felt something real, and it terrified me. I’ve spent so long pushing people away. I was drifting, never letting myself get attached, and suddenly, you were...everything.” I swallow hard. “Too fast. Too big.”
She releases a trembling breath. “And now?”
I open my eyes, letting the swirl of leftover heartbreak show. “Now, I don’t want to lose what we started. If you can forgive me, if you still want me, I’d like a chance, but it has to be our choice, not a lantern’s.”
Her gaze glitters with tears. She lifts a shaking hand and rests it against my cheek. “I’ve guarded my heart, afraid mortals would die, leaving me behind. Something about you shattered that guard.” Her voice turns quiet. “It’s terrifying, but it’s also the first time in decades I’ve felt alive.”
My throat tightens. “I’m not promising an easy road, but I promise if we do this, it’s because I want you.”
She presses her forehead to mine, eyes closing. A tiny sob escapes her. I slide my arm around her waist, pulling her close. The tension in her shoulders melts, replaced by a trembling acceptance. I bury my face in her hair, inhaling the faint scent of lavender and parchment.
For a long moment, we breathe each other in, letting the swirl of magic settle. Then footsteps creak in the next room. Bethany and Grizelda quietly reappear, pausing in the doorway. My grandmother’s eyes shine as her lips curve in a gentle smile.
Vandria and I step apart, though I keep one hand linked with hers.
Gran approaches, setting her carpetbag down again. “That answers my question, I suppose.”
A faint blush colors my cheeks, but I keep my chin high. “Gran, you meddled in a big way, but... thank you. Maybe.”
She laughs, eyes misting. “That’s better than I’d hoped.” Her smile lingers. “Now you can decide what’s next. Will you stay in Evershift Haven? Will you return to the human world? There’s no right or wrong answer. Only your heart.”
I trade a glance with Vandria. Her lips tremble, waiting. My chest clenches with the weight of the decision. My old life calls, offering a sense of normality, but that always felt hollow. Evershift Haven might be insane, but it’s also the first time I’ve felt truly alive since I left the military.
I blow out a long breath. “I can’t walk away from Vandria.”
Relief brightens her expression. She grips my hand tighter. Grizelda beams, clapping her hands with a jingle of bracelets. “Fabulous. Now, we must celebrate with a nice pot of tea—”
Gran raises a hand. “Maybe tomorrow, dear. Declan and I need a private chat, and he’s owed a thorough explanation of how I parted ways with Evershift Haven all those decades ago.”
Vandria edges back. “I’ll give you space, but...will I see you soon?” She glances at me, voice laced with lingering insecurity.
I squeeze her fingers. “Yes. We’ll figure it out.”
She nods, blinking rapidly, then slips out the door with a ghost of a smile. My heart aches to follow, but Gran touches my shoulder, gently steering me back toward Grizelda’s messy table. The teapot puffs its pink steam again, as though celebrating.
She gestures at a chair. “Sit, my boy.”
I lower myself, exhaling. The swirl of left over tension lingers, but relief seeps in. I’m not running anymore. Gran glances at Grizelda, who hums a contented tune while fetching more cups. The cat purrs near the fireplace. It all feels so normal in this decidedly abnormal place.
She sets her hand over mine. “We have a lot to discuss, but first, I need to say I’m proud of you, and I hope you find happiness here. That’s all I ever wanted.”
My eyes mist with tears. I clear my throat roughly. “I’m still angry you tricked me.”
She squeezes my fingers. “You’ll forgive me eventually.”
Grizelda laughs softly, pouring fresh tea. I sink deeper into the chair, tension unwinding. The wind outside rustles the bizarre plants in the yard. Evershift Haven remains as magical and confounding as ever, but I don’t feel trapped. Not anymore.
I cradle the warm teacup, letting the possibility of a real future bloom in my heart. Vandria. My grandmother. This entire crazy town. Maybe it’s all the second chance I never knew I needed.