Prologue 2 Gia
I should have known something was off the moment I got the email.
Mandatory.
In a Coven.
Which technically wasn’t supposed to operate like corporate America, even if our “alter ego” absolutely did.
Greener Earth Coven—publicly branded as Greener Earth Industries.
Sustainable forestry.
Eco-development.
Land rehabilitation.
Respectable. Responsible. Environmentally conscious.
All perfectly polished on paper.
And entirely magical beneath the surface.
The company existed to “protect forests.”
The Coven existed to protect power.
As for me? My position wasn’t glamorous.
It wasn’t even particularly aligned with my magic.
I worked as an administrative assistant, which in practical terms meant I managed calendars, drafted emails, handled logistics, and made sure people far more powerful than me never missed a meeting.
In less charitable language?
I was someone else’s work-bitch.
No, it wasn’t what I dreamed of doing.
But rent in Jersey City didn’t pay itself, and Dryads weren’t exactly lining up with six-figure consulting offers.
So I was grateful.
Truly.
I sat at my desk in the glass high-rise overlooking the Hudson River, watching traffic inch along below while mirrored buildings reflected a thousand fractured suns across the skyline. Steel. Concrete. Noise.
Not exactly a forest.
Not exactly where a Dryad thrived.
And lately?
The trees in my dreams had started whispering louder than the city ever could.
I felt restless.
I’d felt restless for months.
Too much steel.
Too much concrete.
Too little soil beneath my feet.
The forests whispered in my dreams sometimes.
Soft.
Lonely.
Calling.
And I’d wake up sweaty and frustrated in my perfectly climate-controlled apartment, wishing I could dig my fingers into something real.
“Gia?”
I blinked.
Jeremy Steeler leaned against the edge of my cubicle wall, sleeves rolled up, tie loosened just enough to imply he’d been working hard but not so much that it looked sloppy.
He was objectively handsome.
Dark hair.
Sharp cheekbones.
Blue eyes that sometimes softened whenever he looked at me, like he thought he was being subtle.
“Conference room,” he reminded me gently.
“Right.”
I grabbed my notebook out of habit even though we both knew this wasn’t going to be about quarterly earnings.
Conference Room B sat at the far end of the executive floor.
The door was already closed.
Natalia Blu stood near the window when we entered.
She was older—ageless in that way powerful Witches could be—silver-streaked dark hair twisted into a sleek bun, eyes like polished onyx that missed absolutely nothing.
“Gia,” she said, voice cool but not unkind.
“Jeremy.”
The door shut behind us with a quiet click that felt louder than it should have.
I stayed standing.
Natalia motioned toward the chair across from her.
“Sit.”
That was when I knew.
This wasn’t a normal meeting.
I folded myself into the chair carefully.
Jeremy took the one beside me.
Too close.
His thigh brushed mine briefly.
Natalia didn’t miss it.
She never missed anything.
“We’ve been reviewing the northern retreat property,” Natalia began smoothly. “The one in Montana.”
Montana.
The word landed strangely in my chest.
Open sky.
Forests.
Real wilderness.
I’d seen the brochures.
Greener Earth’s newest “executive wellness retreat.”
But underneath?
Coven land.
Protected land.
Magically shielded.
“It’s thriving,” Natalia continued. “But we’d like an assessment.”
“From a Witch?” I asked.
Natalia’s gaze sharpened slightly.
“Not exactly.”
Jeremy cleared his throat softly.
“This is more… specialized.”
I knew what that meant before she said it.
“We’d like you to go.”
The room felt suddenly smaller.
“Me?”
Natalia inclined her head.
“You’re not truly a Witch, Gia.”
The words were spoken calmly.
Matter of fact.
But they still slid beneath my skin like splinters.
“You’re a Dryad.”
Not said cruelly.
Not said kindly.
Just true.
“As grateful as we are for your contributions to Greener Earth,” she continued, “your magic is… limited.”
Limited.
The word echoed unpleasantly in my mind.
Dryad magic wasn’t flashy.
We didn’t throw fireballs or manipulate time, or summon storms on command.
We healed.
We nurtured.
We sustained.
And apparently that made us convenient—and disposable.
“The Montana property needs someone attuned to forest vitality,” Natalia said smoothly. “The soil composition. The tree growth. The magical ecosystem.”
“What about what I do here?” I replied carefully.
“You’re an assistant, easily replaced” she said. “Surrounded by steel and asphalt, your limited powers are of no use.”
Her gaze flicked briefly toward the window.
“Besides, we know you’ve been restless.”
I stiffened.
“How—”
“We can see it, Gia,” Jeremy cut in softly. “We understand a Dryad’s biological imperative to nurture can get stronger as the time passes.”
Did he just call me old?
His hand brushed lightly against mine on the conference table.
Meant to be comforting.
But also calculated.
“The truth is Gia, you’re wasting your gifts in Jersey City.”
The truth of it hit harder than I wanted to admit.
I had been restless, and yes, I could feel Mother Nature’s clock ticking like crazy.
I’d been dreaming of trees and open air and damp earth beneath my fingernails.
“You’d be doing the Coven a service,” Natalia continued. “Ensuring our investment thrives.”
Investment.
For some reason, that word sent chills down my spine.
“And we would appreciate it, Gia. I know I would,” Jeremy added.
The phrasing felt intentional.
Carefully chosen.
Like this wasn’t a request so much as an expectation.
“You and your sister have done well here,” Natalia added.
There it was.
The subtle reminder.
Valerie and I weren’t born into this Coven.
We were accepted.
Folded in.
Protected.
Dryads weren’t numerous anymore.
And without a larger magical structure shielding us, we were vulnerable.
“I know you’re both grateful for the positions you have here as anyone like you would be,” Natalia said gently.
Not harsh.
Not threatening.
Just honest in that way that didn’t leave room for argument.
Still, my hackles were raised.
Jeremy leaned closer—handsome, polished.
“It’s a beautiful place,” he murmured near my ear. “Clean air. Quiet. You could reconnect with nature, and maybe I could join you after.”
What the what now?
Reconnect.
Join me?
My biological clock chose that moment to start ticking loudly in the back of my mind.
Thirty-six.
Single.
Size eighteen.
Women like me didn’t exactly have males lining up at our doorsteps.
“You’ve been considering alliances,” Jeremy added quietly.
Heat crept up my neck.
“I—”
“You deserve a future, Gia, one you can share with someone,” he said softly.
He was flirting now.
Careful.
Measured.
Safe.
The kind of male who would never roar or break or burn.
The kind who would ask permission before kissing me.
The kind who might offer stability.
Marriage.
Children.
But I heard the implied if.
If I did as I was told.
If I played the part.
If I aligned myself correctly.
Natalia watched the exchange with cool approval.
“The retreat would be good for you,” she said.
“And when I return?” I asked cautiously.
Jeremy’s fingers brushed mine again.
“We’ll talk.”
The implication lingered.
Possibility.
Security.
Future.
I stared down at my hands for a long moment.
At the faint green shimmer beneath my skin that only I could see.
Truth?
I was restless.
And lonely.
Tired of glass buildings and boardrooms and pretending I wasn’t different.
Maybe Montana was exactly what I needed.
Maybe reconnecting with the forest would quiet the ache inside me.
Maybe when I came back… I’d have clarity.
A plan.
A partner.
I looked up.
“Sure, I’ll go.”
Natalia nodded once.
Jeremy smiled warmly.
“Good,” he said.
But as I left the conference room that night, something inside me stirred.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
Something older.
Like roots shifting beneath the soil.
Like the forest itself had just drawn in a breath and whispered…
Finally.