Epilogue
Maeve
“SO, ARE WE GOING TO get to meet this boyfriend of yours tonight?” Aric asks as we bump along in the carriage on the way to Ravenscroft Castle for the graduation party Alina is hosting.
Across from us, my mother and stepfather both look at me.
“Boyfriend?” Mother asks, arching a slim eyebrow at me. “You have a boyfriend?”
I turn to look at Aric, and he shrugs. “Poppy might have mentioned something. But don’t tell her I told you. She didn’t mean to let it slip.”
Of course she didn’t. I can picture her in my mind, accidentally telling Aric, then slapping a hand over her mouth as her cheeks go bright red.
“I won’t tell her,” I say. Then I face my parents. “And I don’t think boyfriend is the right word.”
My stepfather cants his head. “Girlfriend, then?”
Smiling, I shake my head. “No.”
They look confused, but I don’t offer any further explanation. I’m not sure I could. Because I know Severin isn’t my boyfriend—our blood bond far supersedes that—but I’m not quite sure what to call him. My partner? My lover? My future?
There isn’t a word that feels quite right; but what does feel right is the sensation in my chest right now, the ever-present hum of awareness, the knowing that wherever Severin is, I’m connected to him and he’s connected to me.
I’ve not told anyone about the permanence of our bond, nor do I feel the need to. For now, it’s ours. Just ours. And no one else needs to be part of that.
By the time we reach the castle, the sun has begun to slip toward the horizon, the evening light stretching long and inviting dark shadows to cling to walls and corners. I’ve been to the castle a couple times now, but it still causes me to look upon it with awe as I step out of the carriage.
“I can’t believe Alina and Raelan get to live here,” Aric says behind me, looking up at the dark purple flags twining through the air on the highest towers.
“I can’t imagine,” I say back as my mother and stepfather alight from the carriage.
The big entrance doors are already standing open, with knights in shiny armor standing to each side. Music and candlelight drift out into the courtyard, beckoning to us.
“Ready?” I ask Aric.
He offers me a big arm, and I thread mine through his, resting my hand in the crook of his elbow. “Born ready.”
We lead the way inside, followed closely by our parents. The entryway is bathed in candlelight from the gigantic chandeliers overhead, and a few people mill about, wearing crisp suits and beautiful glittering gowns. A servant flits up to us, a silver tray balanced in her hands.
“A drink?” she offers.
Aric and I each take a long-stemmed glass of wine, and he looks down at me.
“Congrats, sis. You’re the most badass storm witch Coven Crest ever saw. And you’re going to do amazing things at the collective.” He smiles at me, his tusks gleaming in the candlelight. “I’m proud of you.”
When he offers me his glass, I clink mine against it gently, and then we both drink. The wine is sweet and cool, and it glides right down my throat, giving me the sneaking suspicion that Alina’s going to have some inebriated guests to manage tonight.
“Oh my,” my mother whispers behind us.
I turn to look at her, but she’s busy taking in the castle, her eyes wide, mouth parted just so. My stepfather has one hand draped along her waist, and he sips his wine while looking at the paintings hanging on the tall walls.
“Maeve!”
I glance to my side to see Lyra standing in the doorway leading to the ballroom, wearing a gorgeous green dress that makes her red eyes and hair even more vibrant.
Cairn stands behind her, his hulking form dwarfing hers, his wide horns casting shadows across his shoulders from the chandeliers overhead.
Looking back at my parents again, I say, “Will you be all right if we go?”
My mother gives me a small smirk. “Despite what you may think, we are capable of handling ourselves.”
I roll my eyes at her, then give Aric’s arm a tug. “Come on. Poppy’s probably here already.”
“Yeah, Layla was making cupcakes for the party.” He smiles down at me. “I helped taste test the frosting earlier.”
When we make it over to Lyra and Cairn, Lyra wraps me in a big hug. Her skin is warm, and when I pull back, I notice it’s dusted with gold glitter. And on closer inspection, so is Cairn’s suit.
“You two look . . . sparkly,” I say, lifting my wineglass with a smile.
Lyra twirls. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Behind her, Cairn brushes at his lapels and mutters, “It does not come off.”
Aric and I laugh as Lyra pouts up at him.
“Where’s Poppy?” Aric asks, craning his neck to peer past them into the ballroom.
“She was at the buffet tables last I saw her. She wouldn’t let me have a cupcake yet though.” Her pout deepens. “Something about saving them for the guests.”
“I’m gonna go find her,” Aric says. He walks past Cairn, slapping a hand onto the big minotaur’s shoulder, seeming to surprise him.
My chest warms at the image.
When my stepbrother has vanished into the ballroom, Lyra glances over my shoulder and says, voice low, “Is he coming?”
I don’t need her to clarify who she means.
Lifting one shoulder, I say, “I think so. He told me he would.”
“I hope he does.” She loops her arm through mine, then tugs me into the ballroom. Cairn follows behind us, his hooves clopping on the marble floor. “I’m dying to see the two of you together. And I promise the whole faculty-student thing isn’t as awkward as you think.”
Cairn huffs out a breath and grumbles, “Speak for yourself.”
She ignores him, her crimson eyes dancing as she looks around the ballroom.
A small orchestra is seated on a raised dais at the far end of the room, and couples twirl around the dance floor, gowns glittering under the candlelight. I recognize many other fourth-years, but some of the faces are unfamiliar to me—probably people Alina knows.
Speaking of.
“Where’s our hostess?”
Lyra lifts a hand and points.
And I don’t know how I didn’t spot them before.
Alina and Raelan are gliding across the dance floor, her long skirt swishing around their legs, his hand on her low back. They stare at each other like there’s no one else in the room, like everything could fall away from around them and they wouldn’t have the slightest idea.
“I’ve been trying to get my big hunk to dance all night,” Lyra says, tossing a look at Cairn over her shoulder.
“These hooves don’t dance,” he grumbles.
“Maybe they could if you’d try.” She pulls her arm from mine and moves to wrap both around Cairn’s waist; they don’t make it all the way around. “Please?”
He looks down at her, and his expression softens. Then his shoulders rise and fall with a heavy sigh. “Very well.”
Lyra’s face lights up, and next thing I know, she’s taking him by the hand and dragging him to the dance floor.
I watch them go, then turn my attention to the long buffet tables set up along one side of the ballroom. And sure enough, that’s where I find Poppy and Aric.
I immediately head that way, smiling at and saying hello to the people I recognize on my way. When I make it to the dessert table, Poppy’s just finishing setting out the last tray of cupcakes, and she smiles when she sees me. Then her gaze sweeps down my body, and her eyes widen.
“Wow,” she says, reaching for a cloth to wipe a bit of frosting from her hand. “You look beautiful.”
I glance down at myself. Tonight I’m wearing a body-hugging black dress with straps that crisscross along my back and a skirt with a slit up to the thigh.
My hair hangs long and straight down my back, and I swept glittering black eyeshadow along my eyes before leaving home. I hope Severin will like it.
“Thank you. You do too, Pops.”
Poppy is wearing a simple light pink dress, and her lavender hair looks soft as cotton candy where it kisses her shoulders.
“Most beautiful woman in the room,” Aric adds as he smiles down at her. Poppy’s cheeks go bright red.
She puts the cloth down and focuses her attention on me. “Want to try a cupcake?”
I nod eagerly, and Poppy puts one in my hand.
“I helped with those,” Aric says. “Just remember that.”
I take a bite and immediately sigh. Layla and Poppy make the best cupcakes in Wysteria. This one is strawberry-and-vanilla flavored—perfect for a summer evening.
“It’s amazing,” I say, making Poppy blush again.
We continue to talk and laugh. People drift around us, and the early-evening light cutting through the tall windows in the ballroom darkens as the sun sets.
I’ve just finished my first glass of wine when I feel the pull in my chest. It makes my heart thrum.
My head turns, my gaze shifting, scanning the room.
And there he is, standing in the big arched doorway that connects the ballroom to the entryway.
He hasn’t stepped fully into the room yet and instead lingers just inside the threshold, as if giving himself a moment to take everything in.
He’s dressed in a charcoal-gray suit that fits him perfectly, one hand tucked into the front pocket of his trousers, his dark hair freshly trimmed and his face clean-shaven. He’s the picture of academic elegance.
Our bond hums, and he turns his head, meeting my eyes.
His are still a rich, beautiful red. All because of my blood.
It makes me smile.
Poppy draws a small breath. Aric turns to follow Poppy’s gaze, and when he spots Severin, his green brow furrows. He looks at me, then him, then me again.
“Wait . . . Isn’t that Felex’s uncle? The new professor?”
When neither I nor Poppy respond, Aric’s lips curve into an incredulous smile.
“Maeve Vandermere, don’t tell me you’re sleeping with your professor.”
Poppy gasps, then reaches out to bump him, though she can’t get his huge frame to budge. “Aric.”
I meet my stepbrother’s eyes and say, “Well, he’s not my professor anymore.”
Then I step away from the dessert table, making a beeline for Severin.