Earth Witch (Mythic #5)

Chapter 1

WHEN LIFE GIVES YOU GRIMOIRES…

MURIEL

Muriel walked through the forest, new fronds unfolding from the soil with each step.

In the distance, she heard the excited squeals of wolf pups playing again.

It was one of many signs that life was finally improving for the Shenandoah pack since Jace, the new alpha, took over after Lucas’s reign of terror.

But her? She felt more alone and lost than ever.

The warm, buttery sweetness of baking oats and brown sugar drew her toward the Sablewolf homestead on the edge of the woods.

Muriel often found her way there when she was feeling out of sorts.

She and Jessie had been inseparable growing up, and Muriel was as comfortable in Jessie’s family home as she was in her own.

“Come in, dear,” Elsa called out before Muriel even made it to the door. “I just made a pot of tea.”

Muriel spied two cups set out on the table and a plate of cookies, fresh out of the oven. “Are you expecting someone?”

“Just you.” Elsa gave her a motherly smile. “I knew you’d find your way here. I made your favorite, oatmeal raisin.”

Her weakness. No one could say no to Elsa’s homemade cookies.

Muriel sank down at the scarred wooden table, as she had hundreds of times before. She’d eaten meals here, made cookies and crafts, giggled and shared secrets and snacks in the middle of the night during sleepovers.

She missed those days.

“Want to talk about it?” Elsa asked, sliding into the chair across from her.

“Talk about what?”

“Whatever’s put a thorn in your paw.”

Muriel’s lips curled at the familiar expression. “I don’t have a thorn in my paw.”

“Right. That’s why you’re wandering around like you’ve lost your best friend.”

“I did lose my best friend.”

“No, you didn’t,” Elsa said, softening her tone. “Just because Jessie’s mated and living in Mythic doesn’t mean you can’t remain close.”

No, but it did make it harder. “I know. I just miss having her around.”

“I do too,” Elsa agreed. “Jessie suggested I move to Mythic to be closer to her and the pups.”

“And? What did you tell her?”

“That I will visit often, but I’m quite happy where I am. My life is here. Jace even asked me to sit on the pack council as an advisor.”

“He’s a smart man.” Elsa Sablewolf was as kind as she was wise, and she’d been around long enough to know everyone in the community.

Elsa smiled. “He is. But what about you? Jessie told me she talked to you about Mythic too.”

“She did.”

“And?”

“It’s complicated.”

Under other circumstances, Muriel wouldn’t think twice about relocating. Jessie’s new home was amazing, teeming with all sorts of fascinating preternaturals, including those of the magical variety. If Muriel moved there, she could learn so much, maybe make some friends, be a part of that community.

But Mythic was where Brandon was.

As his image filled her mind, Elsa’s houseplants began to grow with quiet, unnatural speed. Muriel tamped down those thoughts before things got out of hand. Her magic had been on the erratic side lately, manifesting with her emotional state. The stronger the emotion, the stronger the manifestation.

She definitely had emotions where Brandon Emrys was concerned.

Which was yet another reason why she should stay far away from Mythic and the man who occupied so many of her thoughts these days.

Brandon, the blue-eyed mage she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The one who looked at Muriel as if she were the most fascinating creature in existence. It was as flattering as it was unsettling.

Whether his interest was in her or her elemental abilities was unclear. He had plenty of his own magic simmering just below the surface.

That was the problem.

She didn’t trust him—or mages in general. Her father had been one, and he’d abandoned them before Muriel was even born, leaving her mother alone and broken-hearted.

Muriel didn’t want to make the same mistake her mother had. She wasn’t going to fall for a handsome face and pretty words, no matter how many emotions the man elicited.

“Complicated how?” Elsa prompted.

Muriel sipped her tea, thinking how best to answer that. She didn’t want to lie to the woman who had been like a second mother to her. “Like you, my life is here.”

Her life might not seem like much to others, but she was content. She was safe. There were worse things than loneliness.

“Honey, you live alone and keep to yourself with nothing but your plants to occupy your days. Your mother's been gone two years now.” Elsa's voice was gentle but firm. “You’re young and beautiful with a soul to match. You have your whole life ahead of you. You should start living it.”

When Muriel said nothing, Elsa patted her hand. “Just promise me you’ll think about it. Go to Mythic. See what happens. If it’s not your cup of tea, at least you will have given it a try.”

Three days later, Muriel returned to her cottage after yet another day in the woods, gathering roots and mushrooms and considering her options. The protection wards she’d placed around the property welcomed her with a ripple of familiar energy.

She’d been thinking a lot about what Elsa had said. If she stayed in Shenandoah, nothing would ever change. Was that how she wanted to spend the rest of her life? Alone and on the fringe?

On the other hand, moving to Mythic was a big step and required a level of courage she didn’t think she had.

Her grass was plenty green right where she was.

When she checked the mailbox on the edge of her property, she was pleasantly surprised to find a package awaiting her. Wrapped in plain brown paper and secured with twine, it had the shape and heft of a book. Curious, she looked at the sender’s information, and her heart began to beat faster.

The Glas Tann, Mythic.

Brandon’s magical bookstore.

The fiery trumpet honeysuckle climbing along the post grew thicker, filling the air with its sweet scent.

With a mix of anticipation and trepidation, she grabbed her basket with one hand and cradled the package with the other.

Yes, Brandon’s interest unnerved her, but when was the last time someone had sent her a gift?

Her feet glided over the stones to her door.

Stepping inside, she breathed in the comforting scents of dried lavender and rosemary, scents of patchouli and vetiver, hints of cedar, and mountain sage.

Just to prove she could—and to extend the anticipation a little longer—she brewed a cup of herbal tea before allowing herself to sit on the couch with her package.

Brimming with curiosity, she peeled back the simple brown wrapping, gasping when she read the title—Liber Terrae: Ancient Wisdom of the Earth.

She held the tome with reverence, taking in the worn leather cover and yellowed parchment pages.

Opening the cover with shaking hands, she saw a card tucked inside, the note written in bold, masculine script: Came upon this and thought of you. Brandon.

That was it. Simple. Genuine. A little swoon worthy. And quite possibly the best present she’d ever received.

Flowering plants bloomed with the surge of energy she couldn’t contain. Vines sprouted new leaves, cascading like waterfalls from shelves.

She couldn’t keep it, of course. But maybe she could look through it before she sent it back. To not even skim through it seemed like a poor way to repay Brandon’s thoughtfulness, even if it was way too much.

Muriel curled her feet beneath her, snuggled back against the multitude of throw pillows in rich, earthy shades, and settled in. Then she turned to the first page and began to read.

Hours later, Muriel jolted awake, heart pounding, her senses on high alert.

It took a moment to remember where she was.

She was in her cottage, on her couch, the Liber Terrae a solid weight on her chest. The room was overflowing with greenery, looking more like a tropical forest than the interior of a stone cottage in the Shenandoah Mountains.

No doubt the rapid growth had been fueled by the potent emotions created by the joy of holding a copy of the Liber Terrae and the steamy energy of her dreams—the ones that featured a certain mage.

Either that, or Brandon had dusted the book with an eros spell…

Muriel frowned and looked closer at the ancient tome in her lap.

There! In addition to the subtle thrum of earth magic was a trace of Brandon’s unique energy signature.

Every magic user had one, similar to a human fingerprint.

She detected nothing manipulative, however—only a whisper of Brandon’s wish that the book please her.

If he was trying to get on her good side, he was doing a fine job of it by giving her time and space to consider her options and sending her a thoughtful present. Still, a gifted mage could conceal intent, and something told Muriel that Brandon was far more adept than he led people to believe.

Even as she thought that, a sudden shockwave of energy ripped through her, a bold knock on her psychic door. She closed her eyes and extended her senses beyond her immediate space and touched her wards. Each was functioning and intact.

But there was something there. An undeniable presence tugged at something deep in her chest, urgent and insistent. The energy wasn’t malicious. On the contrary, it was achingly familiar.

“Mom?” Muriel whispered.

The sensation intensified, wrapping around her and coaxing her toward the door.

Muriel followed, stepping out into the quiet night, allowing the energy to lead her toward the greenhouse. It had been her mother’s favorite place.

Once inside, Muriel took a moment to let her eyes adjust. “Okay, I’m here,” she murmured. “Now what?”

The clouds above shifted, and a shaft of moonlight pierced the frosted glass, landing on a potting table near the back like a spotlight. Muriel crossed the dirt floor and saw nothing of note. Worktables stood along the walls, covered with an assortment of clay pots and trays of seedlings.

The invisible force pressed down on her shoulders, an obvious command.