#2
“Salima is compromised,” Eve said. “Portal travel can be rough on a healthy person. With her magic ripped open, it could… worsen the tear.”
“Worsen,” I echoed, because my brain was already fogging. “That’s one word for it.”
Faith’s eyes flashed. “So we drive.”
Eve looked down at me, and something raw crossed her face. Guilt. Anger. Determination.
“Yes, but fast.”
Faith nodded immediately. “Done.”
I tried to smile. It came out crooked. “I will keep it together until we reach the store.”
Faith huffed a harsh laugh. “That’s the spirit.”
The next few moments blurred.
Faith scooped me up with a grunt like I weighed more than I did. Her arms were strong, steady. I clung to her shoulder, the heat in my chest pulsing like a second heartbeat.
Aurora moved ahead, fast and silent. Nishi lingered behind, eyes scanning the darkness. Eve walked close, one hand hovering near my sternum as if she could hold my magic in place through sheer will.
The trail out of the area was covered in dead leaves and pine needles. It crunched under boots. The air felt colder here, wetter, like the forest had its own climate and refused to share it with the rest of Ravenholde.
The gravel parking lot came into view, and with it a thin sense of relief. Less residue. Less pressure.
My chest still burned. My magic still leaked. But the dead tugged less. The salt circle back in the clearing was doing its job, even from a distance.
“Get her in the van,” Faith ordered.
Tegan stopped. I can’t go with you. You need to pull her into your coven and we can’t risk my magic being tied to yours again.”
Eve nodded. “You right. Meet us back at the store in an hour. That will give us time to stabilize her.”
Tegan grabbed her phone and turned away.
I was loaded hastily and closed my eyes briefly, only to hear the doors slam and the vehicle jump forward. I could hear the gravel spray behind the tires as we roared down the narrow road.
I blinked slowly. “If I throw up, I’m sorry.”
Eve’s mouth twitched. “If you throw up, I’ll forgive you. If you die, I won’t.”
Faith’s voice was firm and warm. “You heard her. No dying.”
I kept my eyes closed most of the trip only opening them when faith slid to a stop. The doors opened and they were all there helping me into the shop.
I clutched at Faith, then at Eve’s presence, trying to anchor myself to something living, something solid.
Eve’s voice cut through the sensation, firm and close. “Hold. Stay. Breathe.”
I tried.
The world snapped.
We stumbled out into warm air and the scent of dried herbs.
The Blue Moon.
Even half-delirious, I recognized it from the times I’d visited. Purple walls. Tables and bookshelves crowded with jars and candles. A glass case with an old-fashioned register. The shop was a little chaotic, a little beautiful, like Eve had built a sanctuary out of stubbornness.
Faith set me down on the wooden floor near the center of the shop. My skin felt too tight. My chest still burned, but the wards here pressed back against the dead like a strong hand on my shoulder.
Eve moved immediately, grabbing supplies with the speed of someone who’d done crisis triage too many times. Salt. A bowl. A bundle of herbs. A small iron box. A cluster of crystals that glowed faintly even in the shop’s light.
Aurora paced the front windows, peering out at Lilith Lane like she expected Lucinda to come strutting down the sidewalk. Nishi went to the door and checked the lock, then stood with her back to it, arms crossed, eyes alert.
Faith knelt beside me again. “Okay. You’re in her lair. You’re going to live.”
“My compliments to the lair,” I murmured. “It smells better than the covenstead.”
Eve shot me a look. “Focus, Salima.”
I tried. I really did.
The fire in my chest surged again and my breath hitched.
Eve dropped to her knees, placed one hand over my sternum, and this time she did touch me. Her palm was cool against the heat, like laying snow on a burn.
“Listen,” she said, voice low and steady. “We stabilize you by binding structure around your magic. You don’t have to love my unconventional coven. You just have to survive it.”
Faith’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t hate the idea.”
I didn’t answer. My throat was too tight.
Eve’s gaze flicked to Faith and softened briefly, then returned to me. “I need my coven. That means consent. That means intention. You have to accept us. All of us. I have called Hunter and he is on his way.”
Aurora’s voice came from the window. “What do you need from us?”
Eve’s shoulders squared. “Aurora the more people in a coven the stronger it is. If you want to join us, now is your chance. Nishi and Faith need to be in the circle I create. We need to anchor her. It you agree you can stand in for Hunter.”
“I’m in,” Aurora said.
Nishi’s gaze sharpened. “And if Lucinda’s severing left any damage?”
Eve’s jaw clenched. “Then we fix it.”
Faith exhaled, slow. “Do it.”
Eve stood and started building the circle, her movements precise. Salt in a clean ring. Iron filings sprinkled at four points like compass markers. Crystals placed at the cardinal directions, their faint shimmer growing stronger as the wards of the shop responded.
She lit candles, their flames steady and bright.
“Faith,” Eve said. “North.”
Faith rose and took her place without hesitation.
“Aurora, east.”
Aurora moved in, posture tense but committed.
“Nishi, west.”
Nishi stepped into position, eyes still hard, but her presence settled like a blade laid flat. Controlled. Focused.
Eve took south, then looked down at me. “Salima. You’re the center.”
“That feels like poor planning,” I whispered.
Faith snorted. “You’re the drama. Of course you’re the center.”
Eve crouched beside me again. “Salima. I need you to say yes.”
My chest burned. My magic tugged toward the edges of my awareness, searching for a net that wasn’t there.
I swallowed. “Yes.”
Eve’s gaze held mine. “To being part of this. To letting us hold you.”
My throat tightened. I hated needing anyone. I hated that Lucinda had turned my fragile sense of belonging into a weapon.
But I hated dying more.
“Yes,” I said again, stronger.
Eve exhaled once, like she’d been holding her breath since the moment Faith screamed in the forest.
“Good,” she said. “Now hold on.”
She began to chant, voice low and rhythmic. The air in the shop thickened with magic, but it was different than the covenstead. This was domestic magic. Practical. Protective. Wards built over time and reinforced with sheer determination.
The crystals pulsed. The iron filings shimmered faintly.
Faith’s power slid into the circle first. It felt like steel wrapped in heat, fierce and stubborn, a refusal to let go.
Aurora’s energy followed, wild but disciplined, like a wolf pacing inside a fence it chose to respect.
Nishi’s power came in sharp and cold-edged, lunar and precise, threaded with something older that made my skin prickle. Artemis.
Eve’s power poured in last, warm and bright, and underneath it I felt her hellfire, contained, controlled, ready if it was needed.
The circle tightened around me.
And my magic, frantic and flaring, met resistance for the first time since the severing.