Chapter Thirty
Morning pressed against the bedroom windows, washing the room in soft gray light with the promise of day.
I didn’t sleep much. How could I when I was tucked into bed with the one person who seemed determined to keep me for himself? Owen hardly let me go all night.
And lying there beneath his ceiling, his arm heavy across me, it was impossible not to acknowledge what had taken root between us—the safety, the steadiness, the way he’d stood beside me at the Crossroads and shielded me when he didn’t have to.
In high school, I’d wanted Owen to notice me. I think he did, in his own shy way. I think he held himself back because I’d been so vocal about leaving Hickory Hollow for my big-city-glam life.
But I was back now.
I wasn’t leaving.
I had a mystery to solve, my aunt—no, my mother—to avenge, a flower shop to run.
And I had Owen.
I closed my eyes and let that sink in. My life had changed so drastically in the last few weeks it was hard to fathom—but I realized, with a strange calm, that I could accept it. Even the parts that had made me want to run.
The Crossroads had chosen me. The grimoire had chosen me.
And, it seemed, Owen had chosen me too.
Deep in my chest, something stirred. Emotion—yes. But something else. Something sharper, brighter.
My eyes flew open.
Magic.
It was magic inside me.
And it wasn’t alone.
Next to me, it sensed Owen’s druid magic—recognizing it the way the Sun Disk had recognized my touch. The way the grimoire warmed like it knew my name.
I turned my head to look at him.
His eyes were open. He was awake, watching me.
“You feel it,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
“Yes,” I whispered.
The magic in me reached toward him like it had at Neon Cowboy when we danced—like it couldn’t help itself.
“Why does it… do that?” I asked.
“Magic calls to magic.” He nuzzled my neck. “It means you fit me.”
He planted one featherlight kiss against my skin.
“It means you’re mine.”
Oh.
Oh.
“It’s too early for you to be this romantic, McAllister.”
He chuckled against my throat. “It’s never too early for that, missy.”
And then he wrapped me closer like he had no intention of letting go.
Maybe it was the magic humming between us making me dizzy. Or the fact that he’d brought me to his cottage, handed me clean clothes—his—and let me shower off the stench of the Crossroads. Or the way his leg slid over mine and we were still tangled together like we belonged that way.
Whatever the reason, the feeling rose in me—hot and unsteady—threatening to spill over.
“Owen?” I asked quietly.
“Mmm?”
“I…” The words died.
Fear flared. Because if I said the thing I wanted to say, it would make everything real in a way I wasn’t sure I was ready for.
So instead, I offered the safest truth I could manage.
“I like you more than I thought.”
It was the closest I could get to the other words. Maybe it was close enough for now.
He went still against me, his face pressed to my neck. His arms tightened a fraction.
“I like you a lot, Piper,” he said softly. “And I’m glad you’re here. With me.”
It should not have unraveled me as much as it did.
My eyes drifted closed.
And then, without thinking too hard about it, I whispered, “Me, too.”
Eventually we had to get up. He loaned me a pair of sweatpants that were a bit too big and a shirt that was too baggy. But at least I didn’t have to wear my ruined jeans that smelled like something had died on them.
When I dressed and headed into his kitchen—small, warm, comfortable—he was pouring a mug. Then handed it to me, the corner of his mouth lifted.
“I like you in my clothes,” he said.
“Ha. Don’t get used to it.”
“I think it’s too late for that.” He smirked. “You also look good in my kitchen.”
My cheeks heated. “Owen…”
“What? You do.” He feigned innocence.
Which was adorable.
He was dressed, too. Wearing faded jeans, his boots, and an old faded t-shirt that was as soft as it looked.
I sipped my coffee. He sipped his. And something about standing there in the early morning with the smell of freshly brewed beans did something to me.
It was… domestic. And for a flash of a second, I could see us doing this every morning.
And that was terrifying and exhilarating at once.
“I should get home,” I said. “Check on the queens.”
He nodded. “I know.” He reached a hand toward me. I took it. “But we can finish our coffee first.”
My heart swelled. “Yes,” I agreed. “We can.”
Owen pulled into my driveway, put it in park, and then cut the engine. I gave him a curious look.
“I thought you were dropping me off?” I said.
“I thought I was coming inside with you to make sure the queens haven’t destroyed anything.”
I wanted to laugh but the way he looked at me made my heart melt. “All right then.”
We exited the truck and he followed me up the porch steps. I clutched my still smelling clothes under my arm as I opened the door and pushed it open.
Red was still sitting on the sofa, her legs folded underneath her watching a cooking show on Food Network. Willow sat on the cushion next to her, paws tucked under her round body. Eyes closed. Purring. Tani was in the kitchen making tea.
My house was weird.
“Well, well, well!” Tani called from the kitchen. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
Willow meowed a protest.
“No offense, Willow. I didn’t mean you, specifically.”
She replied with another meow-yawn.
Red looked at us both, blinked, and went back to watching her celebrity chef.
Tani, in full-size, leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed. She eyed me in Owen’s clothes with a smirk on her face.
“Don’t start,” I said.
“Start what? Looks like you two had a busy night.” She waggled her eyebrows.
“The evidence does support that,” Red said.
I rolled my eyes.
Next to me, Owen snickered. I turned to him. “You’re not helping.”
He shrugged. “We did have a busy night at the Crossroads.”
“Crossroads?” That perked up Tani. She dropped her arms and stood straight.
Before I could answer, the doorbell rang.
“Early morning visitors are never a good thing,” Tani said.
She wasn’t wrong. I dropped my clothes in the nearest chair and went back to the door to open it.
Agent Voss stood on the other side.
“Miss Wakefield,” he greeted with a nod of his head.
Owen was instantly at my side. Next to me, his magic flared like a bright hot flame that made mine react to him.
That was… new.
“What are you doing here?”
He practically snarled the words. I reached for his hand, wrapped my fingers around his.
Voss’s gaze flicked from me to him and back again. “The Crossroads is different this morning.”
“Oh, so you’ve already been there? How fun,” I said.
His mouth flatlined.
“Would you like to invite me in so we can discuss the Crossroads like civilized people?”
Owen stiffened. I squeezed his hand.
“Not really,” I said, “but since you’re standing on my porch being a giant pain, I suppose I will.”
Behind me, Tani laughed.
He stepped inside, his gaze instantly landing on the Red Queen, Tani, and Willow still perched on the sofa.
I closed the door. Owen and I remained there as he turned to face us.
“Part of the agreement,” he began, “was to return the queens to their rightful realms.”
“Yes, I know that,” I said, my tone as haughty as I intended. “However, the most important thing was to get the Crossroads closed. And I did.”
“You closed the Crossroads?” Tani moved into the living room now taking up a spot close to me. She gave Voss a proper glare.
“It’s temporary,” Voss said, folding his arms across his chest.
“One crisis at a time, eh?” Owen snapped. “She, at least, got it closed for now.”
“Did she now?” Tani’s gaze never left Voss. “For a rookie, I’d say that’s pretty good.”
“I’d agree.” Red stood up and moved to stand next to Tani.
Solidarity. I loved it.
Even Willow yawned, stretched, and hopped down off the couch. She parked her furry body between us and Voss, blinking up at him with her golden eyes.
It seemed he wasn’t exactly popular.
Voss eyed the Red Queen who still wore my borrowed clothes and her ruby and diamond crown perched on top of her head. Then his gaze drifted to Tani and her rumpled ren-faire clothing.
“They belong in their own realm,” he said.
“I met your ridiculous deadline,” I said slowly, “and I’ll get them back when I have time. Right now, I have to get ready to open the flower shop and you have a date with never coming back here.”
Voss’s jaw clenched.
“In the meantime,” I said slowly, “they’re perfectly fine here and not hurting anyone.”
Owen squeezed my hand as if to say he was in full agreement.
“And I’m not leaving until I can rescue Oberon,” Tani announced, her arms folded across her chest. “Alice promised.”
“Which is now my promise,” I added. “The Fae treasures are safe in Dougal’s storeroom. When we’re ready, they’ll be there.”
Tani went still. Her eyes softened as she looked at me, relief creasing her features.
“And,” Owen added, “she has me to help her, too.”
Voss’s expression tightened as he stared at me. I wasn’t certain he was happy with the turn of events—and the fact that this motley crew that included two queens, a charmed cat, and a druid were against him.
But I didn’t care what he thought as long as he was out of my house and leaving me alone.
Finally, he said, “I will report to the Council that the seal is adequate. On my authority, they’ll accept it as temporary compliance.”
“How generous of you,” I said, deadpan.
“And,” he continued as if I hadn’t spoken, “you still have thirty days to complete the closing of the Crossroads, return the queens, and find out who murdered Alice.”
“I’m aware.”
“We want answers, Miss Wakefield,” he said.
“So do I,” I snapped.
She was my mother and I never even knew it. She was the one person who could have told me everything about the Crossroads, who my father was, and my life in general. But she was gone and that was something I was going to have to come to terms with.
“And one more thing,” he said, his voice tight.
I stiffened.
“We need to find out who’s poisoning the tree.”
I nodded, growing weary of his list of demands. “I’m working on it.”
“Work faster.”
At this point, Owen released my hand and took one threatening step toward the agent. “She said she’s working on it.”
I was silent as I watched the two of them standoff. Like two roosters sizing each other up. Owen looked far more menacing that Voss. Especially when his druid powers were activated.
“For what it’s worth,” Voss said, low and quiet. His gaze flicked to me. “You did well. I am… impressed.”
“Gee,” I said, “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
I stepped toward the door, opened it. “Maybe you’ll relay that to the Council, too.”
He stepped to the door. “Maybe I will.”
And then he was gone. I shut the door and blew out a breath.
“He’s an absolutely charmer,” Tani said. Then her gaze slid to mine. “You’ll help me with Oberon?”
“I will,” I said.
“We both will,” Owen corrected.
Tani’s grin went from ear to ear. “Well, if that’s not the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, I don’t know what is.”
I flushed.
Willow wound around my legs in a figure eight and meowed.
“Willow agrees,” Tani said. “Also, she wants her breakfast.”
“Oh, right.”
Red stood and stretched. “And I need my morning nap.”
Then she headed upstairs to the spare bedroom.
“And I have a date with a greenhouse.”
Tani poofed away in a cloud of pink fairy dust.
That left me and Owen and Willow, who was trying her hardest to get my attention.
“Come on,” I said to the cat.
She galloped ahead of me into the kitchen.
Owen followed. He paused at the counter, leaning against it as I placed kibble in Willow’s bowl and refreshed her water. Willow glanced at the kibble, then up at me like I had personally offended her.
“You can have tuna later,” I said.
Willow paused and looked back at me over one elegant shoulder. Those gold eyes held mine for a beat too long to be ordinary cat.
“I haven’t forgotten,” I said quietly. “About the hex. I just—I need a little more time to figure out how.”
She blinked once, slow and regal. Then she turned and walked away.
Which, from Willow, I was choosing to interpret as gracious patience rather than judgment.
She sauntered off to find a patch of morning sun with a mournful meow. I’d never seen a cat turn its nose up at a bowl of food. But Willow wasn’t any cat.
When she was gone, I looked at Owen standing in my kitchen.
“Willow is hexed?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “And, apparently, the witch from the fairy tale, Hansel & Gretel.”
His gaze drifted from mine to Willow lounging in the sun. He was quiet for a moment, watching her the way you watch something when you’re rearranging what you thought you knew.
“Thirty days,” I said. “That seems like a long time, but I know it isn’t.”
“You can do it.” He pushed off the counter and stepped toward me, placing his hands on my waist. “I know you can.”
“I’m glad someone thinks I can.”
He kissed the tip of my nose. “You can do anything, Piper.”
I couldn’t stop myself from sliding my arms around his waist and resting my head on his shoulder.
“And my father,” I said. “I need to find out who he was. Or is—if he’s still alive.”
“You will.”
He held me there in the peace of the morning, and I didn’t want him to let go. I didn’t want to get ready to open the flower shop. I wanted to stand right there for the rest of the day.
But then I thought of my customers. Of Mr. Evans. Of normal life insisting on showing up.
“Mr. Evans was in the shop this week,” I said, “and he said we should come to his annual summer barbecue next weekend. Halle will probably be there, too. She keeps texting me about that lunch we keep not managing to have.”
I don’t know why I said we should go to the barbecue, but there it was. And I wasn’t taking it back.
Owen pulled back, holding my hands in his.
“Are you asking me on a date, Wakefield?”
I started to deny it. Then I decided to throw out all caution and take the plunge.
“Yes, McAllister,” I said. “I am. An informal summer barbecue where half the town will see us together.” I paused, took a deep breath. “If that’s okay with you.”
He smiled, his eyes glinting with something I didn’t want to name. “Yes, ma’am. It’s definitely okay with me.”
I looked around my inherited house—the worn furniture, the photos of Alice on the mantel, the queens making themselves at home, the cat purring in a patch of sun.
This was my life now.
Guardian of the Crossroads. Owner of a flower shop. Keeper of secrets. Daughter of Alice.
And maybe—probably—dangerously—in love with Owen McAllister.