Chapter 20
Lochlan
“WHAT THE STARS SAY TODAY - VENUS IS UP TO NO GOOD, WEAR PROTECTION!” —A PAGANS BLOG
Lochlan rushed home after the encounter with Wulfric, hoping to find Nia still in bed. But all that was left for him was her handwriting on his own note.
You make such good coffee, N xx
Between Nia, her father, and those insistent x’s, he couldn’t focus.
Filled with plants and tools essential for repairing old tomes and manuscripts, Lochlan’s office held the soothing scents of soil, old paper, and the subtle fragrances of the flowers he tended.
But the familiar surroundings did nothing to help him find peace.
His fingers traced the recently repaired page.
He’d only managed to finish one in the past few hours, a number that should have been four or five or six.
Lochlan knew he should keep working, but his mind was elsewhere, replaying recent moments with Nia.
“Did carrying me get that going,” she’d teased, her eyes dragging deliberately over him, leaving a desperate want in their wake. “Or the thought of me naked on the other side of the wall?”
The memory of her voice, low and rough, curled in his chest like smoke. But it wasn’t just the fire twisting through him that pulled his thoughts from his work. Hunger churned low in his body, yes—but it wasn’t just that.
He wanted more.
He wanted to know Nia’s thoughts and her fears, wanted to see her quiet smiles in the mornings.
He wanted to hear the way her laugh sounded like it was breaking free from her, untamed and unstoppable.
He wanted every piece of her she’d ever been afraid to give anyone else.
And he wanted her to want that from him, too.
Not just teasing barbs or fleeting touches—he wanted something real and whole.
If Nia didn’t want the same thing, could he give in to the desire burning between them, knowing it was only for a moment?
The sound of someone at the front door pulled Lochlan from his thoughts.
It was strange; no one from work should be delivering new projects to him, and this set of diaries still had weeks of work left.
Jade left her spot next to his chair and began scratching at the door, eager to get out. Lochlan’s heart skipped a beat.
Maybe Nia was back from wherever she’d gone.
As soon as he opened the door, Jade hurried down the stairs. He shut it again before following her, moving silently as hesitation gripped him. At the bottom, he paused, heart pounding as he peered into the kitchen.
Nia was there, rummaging through a few shopping bags, her movements brisk and efficient. Two Goblin Grind cups sat on the counter, their rich smell mingling with the scent of fresh pastries. He watched her, wondering what she was doing.
And how to move forward after the previous night.
She greeted Jade warmly and took off her collar, which was strange. Then Nia pulled out three large candles from a bag and did something with them he couldn’t quite see. When she placed one in a holder, he noticed his name carved into the black wax.
His feet started moving before his mind could catch up.
“What is this?” Lochlan picked up the candle, his name flickering against the wax as he turned it in his hands. He nodded to the bags on the counter. “All of this?”
Nia sighed and handed him a coffee. As their fingers grazed, a warm echo thrummed under his skin.
“Last night, my father wormed his way into my mind, bypassing all the protective spells I’d cast against him. Freaking jerk.”
Lochlan’s grip tightened on the cup. “And you didn’t want to tell me?”
“I was going to handle it. I am handling it.”
He stepped closer, his arm brushing hers as he carefully put back the candle with Lochlan on it. Instead of pulling away, he lingered, letting her scent wrap around him, dark and intoxicating.
“And what does handling it look like?”
Nia didn’t move, and the way her fingers curled slightly, the way her magic rippled—just the tiniest bit—told Lochlan he had the same effect on Nia that she did on him.
A flush crept over Nia’s cheeks as she nodded across the room, to where her shadows glided over the space. Lochlan watched them for a moment, mesmerized by their eerie grace, before Nia’s voice pulled him back.
“There’s a spell in my mom’s journal.” Her shadows stilled as she turned back to the island and opened the diary she’d left there.
Lochlan stepped in beside her, close enough to read over her shoulder.
Nia flipped the pages with careful fingers.
“She created it to protect herself from my father’s dark magic. ”
Lochlan glanced down at the intricate spell beside her, below which was a footnote.
Dream walkers. Known for their ability to crawl into minds across any distance. A talent rooted in the Cabot line. Foul witches with one purpose: control. I may not be able to stop this marriage, but I can protect my mind from my betrothed.
A chill raced down his spine as recognition struck.
The handwriting was unmistakably familiar: he’d been staring at it all morning. The last part of his conversation with Wulfric echoed, harsh and haunting.
What do you really want from this?
Finish the diaries. You’ll find out.
The diaries he was working on were hers—Nia’s mother. The ones in his office had been ruined, painstakingly pieced back together with magic. But this one was untouched. Pristine. An earlier diary, maybe, one that had somehow survived while the rest had been destroyed.
His stomach twisted.
Shit.
Lochlan swallowed hard, pulse hammering in his ears. Wulfric had made it clear Nia couldn’t know about Lochlan’s work with The Sword. Which meant he couldn’t tell her what he was restoring without risking everything. His job. His life. His chance with her.
Lochlan hated it.
He would never choose to keep any of this from Nia, but he didn’t feel like he had a choice. Wulfric had handed him the last words of her mother. Somehow, buried in those pages, was the answer to why he’d forced this marriage on both of them.
And Lochlan couldn’t tell her.
Heart still thrumming, he forced his expression to remain neutral. Maybe if he finished the journals and learned what Wulfric wanted, then he could give them to her; maybe it wouldn’t matter that he’d kept them a secret. Either way, this wasn’t a problem he could solve now.
Lochlan willed his pulse to steady as Nia turned, curious.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he said, a little too quickly.
Nothing but a secret that could ruin everything.
Nia arched a brow, unconvinced. “You can help if you want.”
Lochlan stepped closer, drawn to her warmth despite the tension coiling in his gut.
“I’d like that.”
He needed the distraction, the closeness—needed to keep himself from spiraling. Lochlan moved past her, focusing on the diary.
With the labeled herbs beside him, he began laying out the spell: sprinkling dried lavender and bay leaves across the counter they usually used for meals, then crushing juniper berries between his fingers and shaping the rune from the diary with the berry’s dust.
The symbol combined protection and veil, forming an eye with an arrow at its center. As he worked, the earthy aroma of mugwort rose into the air, blending with the sweetly sharp scent of star anise.
When everything was ready, his attention snagged on a small brown paper bag sitting on the counter. It was suspicious, out of place.
Nia reached for it and withdrew two gold rings. She hesitated, holding them out as if unsure how they’d be received.
“This feels awkward,” she admitted.
“Why rings?” Lochlan asked, his tone carefully neutral, though a thought flickered unbidden through his mind: They were married. They should already have rings.
“Necklaces get lost, bracelets break, and I saw these in a store.” She stepped closer, the rings catching the soft candlelight. “This one has honeysuckle blossoms on it. You were looking at a bush full of them when I first saw you, and it just felt… serendipitous.”
He stared at her, then at the rings, Lochlan’s chest tightened with the ache of wanting something she didn’t.
“The spell requires tokens you can hold close to you,” she continued. “Jade has her collar, and we can have these.”
She placed the rings gently in his open hand, her fingers brushing his palm.
Lochlan’s ring, the metal cool and smooth against his skin, did in fact have a honeysuckle signet delicately etched into its surface. Hers was a thin golden band with black stones surrounding an opal at its center, the gem’s colors subtly shifting and shimmering in the candlelight.
Nia grabbed the diary and Jade’s collar and inscribed the remaining candles, the first with Jade’s name, the other with hers, then added runes to all three—ancient symbols for hiding and protection.
“In the center, we’ll place the items,” she said quietly, her mother’s diary open in her hands as Lochlan placed their rings next to Jade’s collar on the counter.
The air in the room shifted, charged with a sense of something sacred, as though the space had been transformed.
Melancholy seemed to wash over Nia as she traced her finger along the worn page.
Now that he knew what it was, Lochlan realized she’d always had the diary with her, hidden among her things, tucked in her purse.
“My mom created this spell specifically to protect against the magic that runs in my father’s bloodline.
We need to pour our energy into this, focus on our intent to protect ourselves and Jade.
The spell will not only shield us, but also hide us from my father’s magical sight, whether in person, dreams, or on the astral plane, as long as we wear the tokens. ”