Chapter 15
Nia
“AUTUMN FESTIVAL IN FULL SWING! WE HAVE YOUR ITINERARY.” —THE STELLA RUNE GAZETTE
The windows of the Charis Foundation framed the decorated square, where October had settled in fully, bringing with it the autumn festival.
Garlands of dried corn husks and bright orange marigolds draped over vendor stalls, and carved pumpkins lined the walkways, their flickering candlelight dancing against the cobblestones.
Through the glass, Nia could hear the bustle of people weaving through the market, the faint murmur of laughter and music drifting from outside.
She was inside, hoping the couch would swallow her whole.
They bought it secondhand and years of use had worn it into something impossibly squishy and soft.
She and Ivy had spent countless hours on this couch—holding hands with people in need, sharing exhausted glances after long nights of chasing down funding, even dozing off in the early hours of morning when work had stretched on too long.
And now? Nia wished it would just pull her under entirely.
Coward.
She was a coward.
Usually, she got things done. Kicked ass and took names.
She didn’t hide, certainly not from a handsome plant witch just because she couldn’t wrangle her creeping affection for him.
She’d begun to lose control three nights ago, in her father’s attic.
Now she was questioning the one thing that had guided her for years: the belief that marriage was a trap, that losing yourself in someone else was dangerous.
Since the promise spell, she’d been hiding—leaving the house early, working late, spending as little time as possible with Lochlan for fear of what might happen if she let herself stay.
If she really, truly lived with him the way her father had intended.
The town bells chimed six times and Nia pressed the pillow over her head.
Jade probably had her head in her food bowl now and Lochlan would be prepping dinner. But she was here, hiding, instead of enjoying his company and the delicious food she knew he was still making for her, even though she hadn’t eaten anything he’d cooked the last three days.
Nia groaned as Ivy dropped onto the couch, picking up Nia’s legs with a huff and setting them on her lap.
“Why are you still here?” Ivy asked. “Lochlan is probably worried you aren’t home yet.”
He probably was, because he cared, and it was utterly annoying.
Ivy tsked. “You could be cursed like me, but no, you have a husband. And this is how you act?”
“Shut up,” Nia’s voice was muffled by the pillow. She threw it to the side. “You are not cursed, you’re just bad at picking partners.”
It came out harsh and Nia winced. She wasn’t mad at Ivy.
“Sorry.”
Ivy didn’t look hurt, just thoughtful as she flipped her white blonde hair over her shoulder. “It’s fine, you can make it up to me. And you’re probably right. I have a date tonight with a reg.”
That got Nia’s attention. She bolted upright, staring at her friend with wide eyes. “A regular? Good luck.”
“Why does everyone say that?” Ivy rolled her eyes. “He’s nice, okay? Funny. Has biceps bigger than my head. It’s not impossible.”
“It’s not impossible,” Nia agreed, cautiously, “but it’s not easy.”
Regulars and supernaturals mingled all the time, but it was never simple.
It always started with deceit—the supernatural hiding their true nature for as long as possible.
And if things got serious, the real work began.
Elders and the Videt would get involved, running background checks, conducting interviews, even requiring presentations and studies. It was a lot.
Something nagged at her. Ivy stared at her with an expectant smirk until Nia finally realized—
“Wait. Make it up to you? How?”
“By coming with me.”
“Like a chaperone?”
“No,” Ivy said, grinning wider. “You and Lochlan. A double date.”
“No way. Not happening—”
Before she could finish, Lochlan burst into Charis, his hair wild, eyes wide, looking frantic.
Ivy giggled, drawing his attention immediately.
“I may have texted him from your phone about an emergency,” Ivy stage whispered.
“What happened?” Lochlan’s breath came fast, shoulders rising as his gaze darted between them. When his eyes settled on Nia, her heart clenched. “Nia?”
There it was—feelings. Big, messy, gushy ones for this man who looked at her with so much worry over whatever nonsense Ivy texted him. They’d known each other for a week, yet he was ready to drop everything and rush to her side.
Nia drank him in: wild hair, dark eyes, the concern etched across his face. She’d been avoiding him for days, wasting hours in the tunnels, grasping at any excuse to stay away. But there was no avoiding him now. They stared at each other, the space between them thick with unspoken words.
“Whoa,” Ivy said, slicing through the tension like a blade. “You two, I swear.” She fanned herself dramatically before turning to Lochlan. “What happened is that I need you two to go on a double date with me.”
Nia barely had time to process the shift before Lochlan blinked, his concern giving way to confusion. “No one is hurt?”
“I’m hurt!” Ivy whined.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, baffled as he studied her with genuine worry.
Nia rolled her eyes. Ivy fed on chaos, could sense it like a pulse in the air, and right now, she was practically buzzing with it. No doubt she could feel the tangled mess between Nia and Lochlan, and was enjoying every second of it.
“I’m lonely and sad and no one wants to be with me!” Ivy wailed, throwing her arms up.
“She thinks she’s cursed,” Nia deadpanned.
“I am cursed!” Ivy insisted.
Lochlan let out a long breath and dragged a hand over his forehead, like this entire conversation had physically drained him. “Okay,” he said roughly. “Okay, that’s fine. You said a double date?”
“You’ll go?” Ivy asked, practically bouncing with excitement.
“Of course,” Lochlan replied, his attention turning back to Nia. The energy between them shifted, quieter, gentler. “Whatever you need.”
Nia’s stomach twisted. She wasn’t sure if it was guilt, gratitude, or something more dangerous. She managed a small nod, but her mind raced. What did she need? The answer should have been simple: escape, distance, an end to this charade. Instead, all she could think about was him.
And how he was making her question every promise she’d ever made to herself.
* * *
Rosé & Reverie was designed to evoke romance: soft lighting, plush seating, and an air of quiet intimacy woven into every detail.
The love witch who owned it had laced the space with magic, a subtle enchantment humming beneath the surface.
Regs couldn’t identify magic the way witches could, but they could still feel it: the glow, the ambiance, the way everything seemed to slow, like the night itself was leaning in to listen.
None of that was enough to make Nia forget she’d been bamboozled by Ivy and fist-bumped by her tardy date, Daniel.
The juggernaut was clad in a cutoff shirt, in freaking autumn. He chewed loudly on a piece of bread, the rest of the loaf held hostage behind one meaty arm.
Every aggressive bite made Nia’s eye twitch.
She didn’t even want to read him. But her magic moved on instinct when it came to protecting the only person she loved.
Sweet, sunshine-hearted Ivy clearly didn’t see the warning signs flashing in human form across the table.
So Nia reached. Just a brush against the darker parts of him: the quiet places most people tried to hide.
She instantly hated him.
No regret. No fear. Just ego, loud and hollow. Daniel’s darkness wasn’t born from suffering, but entitlement.
Lochlan’s hand gently wrapped around hers. Only then did Nia realize she was gripping her fork like a weapon. She blinked, stealing a glance at him as she let out a slow, measured breath and eased her grip.
“So, Daniel,” Lochlan began.
“Big D,” Daniel interrupted, mouth still full of bread.
Lochlan remained patient. “I’d rather not call you that.”
“But it’s true. I’m Big D.” Daniel’s pecs flexed under his shirt as he winked at Ivy then turned back to Lochlan. “Bigger than you.”
This was a ridiculous thing to say on what was supposed to be a double date. Nia nearly bent her fork in half. Lochlan didn’t so much as blink. “So, what do you do for work?” he asked, as if Daniel wasn’t embarrassing himself.
“I’m in supplement sales.” He curled an arm to show off an unnaturally large bicep. This, Nia realized, must be why he was wearing a cut-off.
“And is that rewarding?” she asked.
A sharp pain shot up her leg and Nia gasped, glaring at Ivy across the table. The witch had kicked her! Over this buffoon?
“Super rewarding,” Daniel went on, oblivious. “I lead a team that sells this magic pill.” His thick fingers made air quotes. “It says it helps people lose like, fifteen pounds in a week. Dummies fall for it all the time.”
Nia kicked Ivy this time. How dare she subject them all to this ass hat.
Unaware of the silent battle beneath the table, Daniel continued. “I mean, we can’t all be filatherapists.”
Nia’s brain melted as she realized Daniel meant philanthropists.
Through tight lips, she said, “I mean, you can, actually. We have a volunteer event this weekend—harvesting from community gardens around the area to feed anyone who could use a little extra help. Ivy worked on this all year. I’ll get you all signed up, and you’ll be well on your way to becoming a filatherapist.”
Daniel laughed, throwing his head back with half-chewed bread on full display. “Digging around in the dirt on a Saturday? I’ll pass. But if you want to hit the gym, or get in another kind of workout—” He smirked at Ivy. “—then I’m your guy.”