Chapter Twenty #2
All the children gather around him throwing glitter back into the air, raining him in even more of it.
As if he wasn’t covered in enough, I even see a witch wink before she opens a glitter cloud above the crowd.
They all cheer in excitement as they start a glitter dance-a-thon.
Right in the center, like one of the children, is Miles.
He’s laughing, free, and purely in his element.
Lady Bandit scrambles out of my bag as she runs over to join in the fun. Nyx sits by my feet as we stare at the glitter chaos in horror,stepping back every so often to avoid collateral damage.
I should hex him. I should walk away. Instead, I live in the moment. The one moment I grant myself to revel in his sunshine, a smile across my face to the point my cheeks hurt, but I can’t seem to stop myself.
I’m perfectly content to watch from the sidelines, which is more than anyone has gotten from me.
I think I’ve managed to succeed at going unnoticed until I see Miles’s head pop above the crowd like some kind of crazy meerkat.
His hair is drenched in glitter, some of it smushed along his cheeks, and I think I even see some along his eye lashes.
His grin is lethal, and I already know that when that dimple is fully popped, my time has come.
He jogs over to me, glitter trailing behind him like his own version of a rainbow. “Bellamy,” he shouts over the fiddle and children’s laughter. “You’ve been chosen.”
“Nope,” I say as I back up slowly. It’s not happening. Whatever wild idea he has. It’s a no for me. “I don’t know what this is, but you and your tiny glitter cult can count me out.”
Before I can turn away, flee the scene, his glitter-coated hand wraps around my wrist, warm and unrelenting.
“Come on,” he says with a gentle tug. Like the literal mad man he is, he pulls me along behind him as I stomp my feet each step. “The scavenger hunt is starting. You and I are a team!”
“Let go of me,” I grumble,attempting and failing to tug my arm free. Damn wolf strength. I dig my heels in, but the cobblestones betray me. One wrong step and I’m stumbling forward, only for him to wrap his damn glitter-covered arms around me.
He swipes his thumb across my cheek as I do nothing but blink at him. Too caught up by my clumsiness and the fact that it feels good to be in his arms.
“There,” he whispers, his eyes scanning across my face. “Now we match.”
Nyx groans from my feet, his little black heart struggling with the mushy sentiments.
Lady Bandit chitters before she climbs up his leg to pop her glitter-covered head in between us.
Sir Hops-A-Lot appears on Miles’s shoulder only to roll his eyes at the mess he came in on.
And me? I’m realizing that in the two weeks that Miles has come into my life, it’s been full of excitement, humor, and more people joining my inner circle.
He turns and tugs me to the starting point of the scavenger hunt. To think a week ago, I was forcing myself to walk with him, but now, I want to do this.
I realize, as the first giggle slips past my lips, that this is the first time I’ve actually enjoyed Samhain.
Children are dashing past us, costumes flying behind them as they clutch their glittery hands around the paper. Their excitement is almost a tangible thing floating in the air. Laughter and tiny voices float around us as we walk the path to each of the clues.
I was never the little girl who grew up dreaming of the family she would create. Choosing baby names long before I’d even met the person I’d have them with. No, that was Elora’s department. She has a scrapbook somewhere, ask her if you don’t believe me.
But, with Miles next to me, and kids running around us, I can’t help but let myself imagine for a small second what it would be like. If the curse wasn’t lingering over my head, if I could love so freely, is this what my life would look like?
He doesn’t need my words, he doesn’t need me to spell it out for me. No, Miles just wraps his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him. Grounding me before my thoughts can spiral. He doesn’t call attention to my turmoil, instead standing with me in it.
I look up, my eyes scanning his profile. He’s beautiful and gentle.
He notices. He always notices. “What,” he asks softly.
I shrug, trying to brush off the feelings welling up inside me. “I’ve never…done this? The scavenger hunt, the games, the festival.”
He tilts his head, a warm smile on his face, and that damn dimple threatening to ruin me. “Why not?”
I force a smile, pretending it’s never bothered me.
“Never felt wanted or invited. Nobody wanted the dark witch who dresses in all black at their fun, bright event. The other kids weren’t allowed to hang out with me, let alone talk to me.
So while a group of kids would show up each year to take Elora, nobody would ever show up for me. ”
He pulls us to a stop, twisting me to face him as he grabs my hand. He brings them up between us as he gently kisses each knuckle.
“I promise to be your forever date to every single holiday, festival, or celebration this quirky town comes up with.”
As if the world finally comes back around us, a fae child squeals, proclaiming themselves the winner and it snaps me out of this emotionally fueled conversation before he breaks down yet another wall.
He tries to hold me to him, not in a forceful way, but in the way you can tell he doesn’t want the moment to end.
As if by some divine miracle, the clock in the middle of the town square chimes midnight. I’ve never been more elated to have a task to do than I am right now.
Miles’s nose scrunches as he looks around, confused as everyone drops what they are doing to funnel towards the end of town.
“What’s happening? Is the zombie apocalypse where all of you start eating brains?”
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes as I wrap my arm around his. “Come on Dog Boy. It’s time for the grave walk.”
His eyes brows shoot up. “Grave walk? You still haven’t sold me on this not being a zombie apocalypse.”
“Grave walking is us walking through the grave as we talk to our ancestors, inviting them to come spend time with us.”
The town is quiet as lanterns on long poles sway in the air.
The light casts shadows along the ground as we walk in silence to the resting place of our ancestors and loved ones.
The laughter and music from the festival has died off, leaving in its wake a hushed reverence.
The only sounds are the click of shoes against the cobblestones and the crunch of leaves beneath boots as the front of the crowd steps onto the dirt-lined paths.
Miles slows beside me, the back of his hand brushing against mine, testing fate. I don’t pull away, no, instead I allow the rush of my power to meet him. To crackle between us. Something about this moment has me even wanting to reach out to him, have him hold me through it.
This year, this Samhain, it all feels different. Not just because Miles is here, but the air feels charged. As if there’s far more to this than just a fated mate situation.
We stop before a tall headstone, that at one point was beautiful granite carved with intricate designs.
Ivora Sinclair was honored even in her death, still is.
Fresh flowers line the base. She was important to many people.
Not only as the witch coven leader, but as a founder of the town that protects us.
For a long time I only stare at the looping text adorning the stone. It feels as though she’s here with us, but that can’t be right. In all the years since her passing, nobody has seen her return. Some claim that she finally found her mate and chose to have the happiness she was robbed of.
Me, I just wish for one moment with her, one chance to ask why the dark twins are cursed. What happened all those years ago??
I’m quiet for a moment, hoping she hears my pleas. When she doesn’t, I look to Miles, who’s been quietly waiting for me. As he always does.
“I’ve always felt drawn to her, you know. Not because she was the coven leader, but because I always felt like I was another version of her. As if I can feel her story running through my veins. Maybe I’m just being ridiculous, but it never felt like a story to me. More like a lived truth.”
He doesn’t laugh or tease me like others would.
No, he studies the headstone, then me. “It’s not ridiculous,” he whispers as he pulls something out from his pocket.
The paper is folded in fours. I open it and let out a soft gasp.
“It’s you being connected to this in a far bigger way than you imagined.
It’s more than a story to you, because it was always meant to be. ”
It’s too much. This can’t be true. The paper shakes in my hand as I look at what could easily be Miles and I in costumes. Why does it say Ivora and Elias along the top? What is he playing at?
“Miles, this isn’t funny. I told you something truthfully and very personal to me, and you want to pull this?” I shake the paper in front of me, but he doesn’t react like I expected. Not with guilt or even sympathy. He only stands there waiting, just as he always does.
“Why does this look like a drawing of the two of us in costumes? When did you even have time to get this drawn up? Why aren’t you responding to anything I ask?”
I’m spiraling, and I know it, but this isn’t funny. I know that he saw Elora, and I’m sure she filled his head with all of her visions, but this is going too far.
He steps closer to me, pulling at the drawing gently until he is holding it. He holds his phone next to the drawing. There on his screen is an old portfolio with the exact same drawings in it. Drawings that are dated 1680.
“These drawings aren’t of us, Bellamy. They are drawings of Ivora and Elias, her mate. Someone in your coven drew them a couple of decades after this town was founded.”
“What are you saying, Miles?” I whisper as I stare into his eyes.
He reaches up slowly, giving me time to pull away. But I don’t. Not even when his thumb swipes along my cheek, or even when he runs his fingers down my hair.
“All I’m saying is, this is far bigger than the two of us, our fate, and the fears that we have. We just have to believe in ourselves and each other.”
I shake my head frantically as I take a step back. He doesn’t know what he’s asking, what he’s signing up for. I can’t let him give up his happiness for a short time with me. It means nothing that we look like Ivora and Elias. Just a coincidence and nothing more. He wants it to mean something.
“You don’t know what you are asking for,” I murmur as I continue to take steps back.
“I do, and I will…”
The clock tower chimes, meaning it’s officially midnight. I’ve never been more thankful for the time than I am right now. I can leave, hide behind my responsibilities as a witch.
The silence between us feels different now. Not hostile. Not empty. Just…charged. As if we are on the cusp of something life-changing and we have to decide either to take the leap or back away.
We all file back out of the graveyard, Miles walking in step beside me.
He’s unusually muted and solemn. As if even he isn’t sure how the night will go, only that he wants to say more.
I can see it in his eyes, the thoughts that seem to race across his mind.
When we reach the edge of the graveyard, the path splits.
One way leads back to the festivities, while the other heads deep into the Whispering Pines.
He lingers, as if he wants to follow me, like he’s not quite ready to let go of this night.
He looks back and forth between the two directions before his shoulders droop and he turns to face me.
“Thank you for tonight. It was more than I imagined it would be, and I can only pray to my Moon Goddess that I’ll be lucky enough to have many more with you. Good night, Bellamy,” he says finally, his voice low, whispering across my skin in a caress.
“Good night, Dog Boy,” I reply, his nickname having far less bite than it used to.
I don’t know how to say that I don’t want the night to end either, or that I’m scared.
So, I do the only thing I know how to, I duck my head and walk back to my tasks.
Even if I don’t want to, I have a job to do tonight.
Turning towards the barrier, I make my way alone, spell in hand, to do the thing I’ve always done on Samhain. Seal the barrier for another year.
It’s easier to trust in my magic than to trust in another. At least one of those has never abandoned me.