Chapter Forty-Two
Lilith
Lilith ran her fingers over that poignant line in the grimoire.
After all, it is not uncertainty which shows a path, but confidence.
She had become lost in the grimoire after that, learning about the phases of the moon, how great power could be achieved when
it was full and bright, and how a dark new moon was ideal for setting intention.
There had been in-depth detail on how colors aided charms, with white for purification and cleansing; red for courage, passion,
and power; and information about every color of the rainbow in between.
There were runes, and crystals, and herbs—each with its own purpose. At the end of each entry, Lilith found the ingredients for charms that encompassed anything she might need from good health to prosperity, as well as love and protection.
On and on, she read, pausing only to feed Dragon.
She read until the knowledge cramped in her brain, yearning to unfurl and stretch into the world.
A nudge at her calf pulled her from the text.
She startled and looked down, seeing Dragon gazing up at her, his green eyes almost luminescent. He gave a quiet coo and trotted
to the door where he pawed impatiently.
Lilith opened the door, and he tore off. When she did not follow, he stopped and looked back impatiently at her.
“I guess you want me to come too?” she asked.
He blinked at her.
Compelled by instinct, she quickly scooped up the remaining stones from the table and a few herbs, tucking them into her pockets.
Dragon waited for her by the doorway, then resumed his steady gait from the library.
The house was dark, the moonlight muted where it valiantly attempted to stream through the dusty windows, revealing a dizzying
mix of past and present that made her headache throb back to life.
She thought back to the grimoire’s words as she followed Dragon.
Confidence was needed.
Lord, she was lacking that…
A glance at her phone indicated it was well past midnight. The ideal time for charms for banishing, healing, and self enhancement.
She shoved aside her doubt and hoped the fake-it-till-you-make-it confidence would work for now.
The force of the moon welcomed her outside, waning gibbous, with vitality radiating from its half-shielded face, leaving Lilith with a sense of quiet power.
Dragon turned in the opposite direction from the bed and breakfast, where they ought to be heading, and continued onward.
Lilith hesitated. “You’re going the wrong way, you silly thing.”
Dragon stopped and sat, eyes narrowing to slits.
Well, he certainly knew how to get what he wanted.
And color her a sucker, because she didn’t hesitate to join him as he so clearly intended.
He didn’t move when she approached but batted at her shoelaces instead.
Ah, yes, she was supposed to press her bare feet to the earth.
Lilith toed off her shoes and tugged off her socks. As soon as her naked soles connected with the ground, something loosened
inside her that she hadn’t realized had been curled up and withdrawn.
She closed her eyes and tilted her face to the moonlight, empowering her with the harmony of nature. A gentle breeze stirred
her hair, tickling her cheeks, but she kept her eyes shut, focusing on the world around her.
Something cold and wet touched the top of Lilith’s foot.
She blinked her eyes open to find Dragon nudging her.
He turned and slinked over the grass, his coat gleaming like a raven’s wing in the muted light. They continued into the forest,
navigating over tree roots and thick clusters of ferns.
Bracken.
A common foliage in England often used to ward off witches. The thick flora created living barriers to skirt around.
Lilith almost laughed as a frond tickled over her ankles and left her skin humming from the contact.
After a lifetime of Mama telling Lilith to wear shoes when she didn’t want to, she’d have thought her feet would be tender. But the rough ground seemed gentle. The forest was alive around them, and the partial moon glowed like magic in the vast, inky sky.
A canopy of foliage came into view, the path seemingly blocked by a wall of hanging branches of what appeared to be weeping
beech trees. A honeyed vanilla fragrance filled the air.
Lilith slowed down, but Dragon plunged ahead through a gap in the branches.
Ducking, she followed him into a clearing framed in a tangle of honeysuckle bushes, their vines lush with yellow-white petals,
the air heady with their unique floral perfume. All this was housed within the protective circle of weeping beech trees. A
supernatural strength pulsed within the grassy clearing as the moon’s glow flared, flooding the clearing with sacred light.
In a world filled with bustle and noise and chaos, this place was peace. It was beauty.
It was home.
The thought came to her, unexpected and with a finality that settled inside her.
Moonlight to ease your weary mind and quiet your uncertainty.
“You knew what you were doing,” Lilith teased Dragon.
He tucked his paws under himself and squint-blinked at her in that wise old man way he did.
She had been exhausted before, but now energy radiated through her.
Energy and desperation.
If she did this, she would be accepting her legacy.
Life would never be the same again.
That at some point, she must have a daughter to pass her legacy on to.
She hesitated, flinching from the idea of motherhood, hating that it still scraped against everything natural within her.
No, there must be no reservations.
And she wasn’t like Mama.
Again, she thought of the journal, how Mama went through so much of her life feeling like something was missing. How empty
that must have been. And how sad to constantly seek ways to fill that unrelenting void.
The weight of Lilith’s lifelong anger eased somewhat.
This was what she needed. To yield to her gifts, to let her hurt go.
Lilith closed her eyes, lips lifting in a soft smile, giving her whole self, sacrificing whatever was needed for this beautiful
gift.
A slight hum at her back pocket made her start. Without thought, she withdrew the rose quartz.
As soon as her fingers grasped the crystal, a pleasant warmth infused her heart. She curled the stone into the cradle of her
palm and recalled the enchantment from the grimoire.
Pink quartz to accept your soul.
The fragrance of the honeysuckle intensified, so rich, its honeyed perfume was sweet on her tongue.
Blossoms of a fragrant flower to sweeten your life.
She hesitated. Creating a charm to love herself felt so small.
But, as the grimoire had said, uncertainty would not find the path, and she needed to know where she was going. If she couldn’t
love herself, how could she save Sybil?
“Here goes nothing,” she said under her breath.
She approached a honeysuckle bush, gently extracting several blooms. They came away easily, surrendering to her the way she
had to the earth.
If this was the first gift meant to be bestowed upon her, she would accept.
Cradling the blossoms and the rose quartz in her hands, she closed her eyes and opened her senses. She relished the distant
buzz of insects, the caress of a gentle breeze against her skin, the rich soil beneath the floral notes of honeysuckle.
Let me love myself.
Memories came at her in a whirling assault.
The way other children had thrown away her binders in school, how they refused to sit by her in class, calling her a freak.
But also the way Essie had always stood up for her.
How Mama’s face contorted in disgust when she told Lilith she would never amount to anything.
A college dropout.
A worthless daughter.
Tears stung behind Lilith’s closed lids.
“Let me love myself,” she pleaded, her voice thickening.
Because there was also Daddy who had been there to pick her up when she fell, how he’d blow on a scrape after a swipe of rubbing
alcohol. How he’d beamed with pride at her, eyes filled with love.
Then there was the now. Lilith’s reeling life without purpose, aimless, useless.
A job that easily moved on without her.
The nudge of a warm, furry body against Lilith’s shin and a delicate purr that sent vibrations limned in gold through her
mind.
In every situation in her life, she hadn’t cared for herself. She had let others hurt her. And yet, there had always been
someone there to love her.
She had to see herself the way they did.
Drawing in a shuddering breath, she poured the whole of her wounded heart into her words. “Let me love myself.”
Her chest lifted in a deep inhale, free of the constraint of her own self-doubt, liberated from castigation. And the lie of
her insignificance cracked open.
She was kind. And strong. And worthy.
Exactly as Daddy saw her, and Essie, and even little Dragon.
She blinked her eyes open. A milky glow shimmered over her skin, a sheen of power enveloping her. A gift she was worthy of.
She was beautiful.
She was powerful.
And she could do this.
She hadn’t realized she’d started to cry until the wind brushed her damp cheeks.
In this world, where she had never felt like she belonged, she understood now that she was exactly who she was supposed to
be.
And perhaps if she hadn’t been comfortable in her own skin, if she hadn’t been picked at for being strange, if Mama hadn’t
ridden her like she did, maybe then the rightness of this place—of Lilith understanding her own power—wouldn’t stretch so
soul deep.
“I can do this,” Lilith declared aloud.
But first, there was something calling to her—a thread pulling at her that she needed to follow, and she headed back to the
manor.