Chapter 12 A Thread of Magic
A Thread of Magic
Jas
“Okay, but tell me I’m not the only one who would let Kane ruin my life, at least one time,” Oriana says, fanning herself with the paperback. Her bouncy blue ponytail swings like a pendulum against her shoulder blades.
And shy Elora? The young dryad who swore up and down she’d bail on this book club pick if it got too intense?
Here she sits, legs tucked beneath her olive-green skirt, the novel’s pages showcasing the colorful annotations.
She clears her throat after taking a deliberate sip of her chai latte from an oversized mug—painted with the words 'Leaf me alone, I’m reading' in fall leaves and books.
A blush spreads across smooth brown skin, illuminating the bronze undertones in her freckled cheeks.
“This book is so far beyond my realm,” Elora whispers, but starts to speak up, courage pouring into her veins.
“But I loved it. I’m a sucker for sweet, swoony romance, and this—this was so beautifully done.
I have to admit, I loved the spice, though I don’t have much experience in that, but it was sexy, passionate, and—” she says, sighing, “breathtaking.”
Poppy and Oriana start talking all at once, their words tumbling over each other in a wave of shared enthusiasm. Elora beams, answering a few of their questions and asking her own, having ventured beyond her usual book tastes.
“He's a beautiful, delicious mix of chaos, power, and danger. Like a storm you can’t outrun, but you don’t want to, the wildness and danger of it pulls you in.
The way Kane loves Cady—he’d die for her,” Poppy says dreamily, tucking a few wavy locks of her ash-blonde hair behind her ear.
Her eyes glaze over like she’s being seduced by a dark, shadow succubus gyrating in her brain.
I lean back, absorbing their conversation as we relax in the light spilling from the lamps and lanterns, warming every corner of the bookshop while twilight drapes outside.
We pulled the deep blue armchairs beneath the large, glowing, enchanted fall tree in the middle of the bookshop. Sylas’s magic keeps the bookshop in autumn year-round, and the trees outside the storefront stay in fall, too.
We all take turns hosting, and the bookshop is always the perfect setup for discussing our book.
We’re within arm’s reach of the coffee bar, and after we finish, he lets us shop around for new books and other knick-knacks.
When Poppy hosts at The Sugarplum Bakery, she always makes a special book-themed treat.
Speaking of the fae, Sylas moves between us with steaming mugs, happily serving hot drinks.
His tanned skin glows like the shimmery leaves of his enchanted fall tree.
His long red hair tied back in a bun. He's doing his best at being a good co-host and keeping his hands off Raene.
Whenever his golden eyes meet hers, they brighten and soften.
She looks at him like he is the Lord of the Autumn Realm where he is from, and my chest aches with longing.
I want that feeling again. I miss it. Love is a rare kind of magic. Fingertips brushing, a thumb tracing my lips, a kiss on the forehead. Small gestures that feel weightless, but they mean everything.
“But would you really want someone morally grey?” Elora asks, cradling her mug. The tiny flowers in the braid draped over her shoulder sparkle against her sweater.
“In real life? Goddess no.” Poppy shakes her head, drizzling honey into her tea with the flick of her wrist, using her witch magic.
She takes a sip and hums in satisfaction.
“But in books,” she continues, “something is thrilling about their intensity, how fucked up they are, but you still want to step into said fuckery. Which is why we read, to escape. To fantasize.”
To hope.
“I agree,” I say, popping my shoulders. “I’ll circle D and have all of the above—love, desire, and protection, but definitely with emotional stability.”
Their laughter fills the space as something darts across my peripheral vision.
Above us, Nim, Sylas’s bonded miniature-dragon, stretches his wings, scales shimmering like fall leaves in oranges, golds, and reds.
He’s perched on a low branch, rubbing his snout with a paw.
A tiny puff of smoke escapes his nostrils as he settles back on his haunches.
“Bless you,” Raene coos as she smiles at him. Sylas kisses her on the cheek before handing her a mug of hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream.
Nim lets out a few small chirps, circles his branch like a pup, and curls his wings into himself. Footsteps echo on the stairs as Sylas heads up to their apartment. “Nim said it wasn’t a sneeze, babe,” Sylas calls out once he reaches the top.
We look at Raene, and I stifle a laugh behind my hand. I love how Sylas can communicate with Nim through their bond. When I asked him once what it is like, he said it’s like an annoying little voice in your head, but when he said it, you could hear the love he has for his miniature dragon.
Raene happily sips her cocoa, licking the whipped cream from her lips. “I thought it was a sneeze. It sounded adorable. But, back to the book, is it possible to love a book more after reading it a second time?”
“Are there any dark romance books like this but with winged males?” Elora asks, her cheeks flushed.
Raene, Oriana, and Poppy exchange surprised grins, practically bouncing in their seats.
“Absolutely.” Raene winks. “I can give you a list.”
“Sorry, but before we continue on winged males and other sexy creatures, we all need the details on your lunch date,” Poppy says, pointing her finger at me.
The shop falls eerily quiet, except for the whisper of the breeze, swaying the autumn leaves above us.
Oriana taps her cobalt nails against her mug. “You said he is basically a friend, not really second date material. What happened?" The corner of her mouth curls upward, revealing both curiosity and persuasion.
I swallow. “Raene, you want to—” I gesture weakly toward the table, desperate for her or anyone to talk about their love life instead of highlighting how empty mine is. I don’t want the spotlight. Not until I have something concrete to talk about.
Raene’s shoulders shake with laughter. “Oh no, I’m good. It’s your turn for the sharing circle.”
I laugh, sucking in a breath. “Okay. Well, I met Bernard at the diner for lunch. It actually went well at first, sure, it had its…weird moments, but I didn’t mind talking to him.” Am I really that lonely?
Raene’s phone chirps. After glancing at the screen, she silences it and heads toward the entrance. Minutes later, she returns with bags of the delicious, greasy aroma of takeout.
“So what does Bernard do?” Raene asks, setting the takeout on the table.
Together we stand, passing paper plates and cutlery around before diving in. Fragrant steam escapes with each opened container. Food cartons of crab cheese wontons, eggrolls, pot stickers, chicken pad thai, and shrimp fried rice.
I pile a bit of everything onto a paper plate and grab a pair of chopsticks. “He’s a dentist,” I say, settling back into my seat. I kick off my sneakers and tuck my feet underneath me, and take a bite into a crab wonton. The filling is hot, delicious, and creamy.
“It’s okay to have totally different interests and careers. It can work,” Oriana says, twirling noodles around her fork. “Look at my relationship. My candles and Malik’s cocktails couldn’t be further apart.”
Different interests can work. Aaryn would whisper to his honeybees in a voice that held heat and smoke. He loved working with the hives and working his family business. I dreamed of espresso machines and pastry displays.
But Bernard is not for me.
“How did it get weird?” Elora asks.
“Is he obsessed with teeth?” Poppy grimaces. “Did he compliment yours in some weird stalkerish way that was not sexy at all?”
A small smile tugs on my lips, laughter bubbling up my throat. “He’s cute, very cute, but he is still in love with his ex. I think he is lonely, and…” I glance down at my plate for a moment. “At one point, he asked to examine my teeth.”
We all fall into a fit of laughter. With the unpredictable twists of dating ahead, the steady comfort of our friendship, this sisterhood we built together, it’s a thread of magic all on its own.
My fingers clutch my hoodie against my neck, fighting off the chill under the drenched raincoat. From inside comes Seren’s excited voice for the tea party with her stuffed animals. Kids. Dominik’s hand shoots out, stopping the storm door before it slams.
I slip off my sneakers, placing them on the mat as soon as I step inside. “Thanks,” I murmur, leaning against the doorframe, keys dangling from my finger.
“So what book did you and the girls talk about tonight?”
I hesitate, my throat suddenly dry. “Um…dark romance.”
“Okay, sell it to me. What’s the plot?” He crosses his arms and tilts his head, waiting for an explanation. We really don’t go into detail about the books I’m reading.
I arch my back a bit, pushing off the door, and take a few steps forward, giving him a shrug. Here it goes…
“It’s about a reincarnated God who runs the deadliest mafia in his city.”
He blinks. “I’m sorry—a God who does what now?”
“You heard me.” The corner of my lips curves upward.
Dominik rolls his eyes playfully. “Let me guess, he’s filthy rich, handsome, and blurs the lines of right and wrong?”
“Correct,” I say, following him to the kitchen.
“And the girl he falls for has experienced some deep trauma?”
“Well, obviously.” I say, smirking at him.
“And she fixes him?” Dominik asks, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. He unscrews the lid slightly and hands it to me.
“Thanks and no.” I wag my finger at him before taking a sip of water. “That’s where you are wrong. She softens his heart. He still destroys who he needs to and protects what’s his.”
A wolfish grin spreads across his face. “And it’s smutty, slightly cringy, but super romantic, so you couldn’t put it down, right?”
I press the cold-water bottle against my cheeks, feigning breathlessness. “It was absolutely devastating.”
He barks a laugh, and it tears through the room like thunder.
“But seriously, it was a great time. I love discussing a book we've finished, getting everyone’s opinions on it. To see who liked it or didn’t.
How it got into our heads. There are times when a book stays with you.
It nestles itself into a corner of your mind and rests.
You’re always going to remember it because in some ways it changed you. ”
I blink and realize his eyes are on me. He shakes his head, letting out a chuckle. “I told you, cute.”
Not cute.
“Seren, you want ice cream?” he shouts, opening the bottom freezer drawer, peeking inside.
“Yes, please! Chocolate!”
“What is that look for?” He asks, taking out two tubs of ice cream—chocolate and cookies and cream.
“I was wondering if you have my favorite, because I’d love a scoop, please.” It would be nice to end the evening with the three of us having dessert together.
“I always have your favorite—Seren’s too.”
He takes three bowls down from the cabinet, spoons, and begins scooping the sweet frozen dessert, his biceps flexing.
“So busy, mama,” he says, sliding the bowl of cookies and cream towards me with a spoon. “How’s the dating game going by the way?”
“Don’t ask.” I drop my keys on the island and sit on the stool. I stab the ice cream a few times before giving myself a bite. “I’m in last place.”
He shakes his head. “It’ll be okay, but I’m glad you had a fun night. Seren and I had a great time tonight. I think she won the record for most hosted tea parties.”
I laugh. I hate it when I want to do something for myself, a sliver of guilt seeps in. Making me feel like I missed out on something special.
“Jas.”
The seriousness in his voice makes me freeze. It makes me want to listen.
“This is good, you understand, right? Taking time for yourself isn’t just allowed. It’s necessary. I know you feel bad, and it may take more time. The world needs us to step back for a moment and breathe. Today was your moment to breathe. I got Seren. I got you.”
He slowly nods, like it's code for you can do this. Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s okay. Patiently, he waits for my response, and I know he's secretly hoping I give myself grace.
“I hear you.” It’s been years, and I’m not sure if the guilt will ever go away, but I think it’ll lessen…with time.
Maybe.
“You still shouldn’t feel bad about it.” He takes a few sips of his water.
“I know, all-knowing wolf.” I give him a small smile. “But it’s hard.”
“I bet, but please know Seren is doing great. She sees how much you do—for her and yourself. She might be too young to understand it now, but she is absorbing the example you’re setting.
You’re a great mother, and you're showing her you are more than her mom. You have a business and hobbies. You shouldn’t feel ashamed. ”
His words hit me like a physical force. My throat tightens.
I blink rapidly against the sudden sting in my eyes.
I memorize every freckle, every gap-tooth smile Seren gives me, but sometimes I need to remember underneath the syrup-covered fingerprints and café apron, I am still me.
I’m more than Mom. But sometimes I forget that a mother teaches a child that loving ourselves matters too. Joy isn't selfish. It's essential.
"It means a lot," I manage, trying to keep my voice steady.
"I’m telling you the truth.”
I grin softly, appreciating his kind words, and then remember, I owe him. I pull a twenty out of my back pocket and set it on the counter, pushing it towards him.
His grin is lopsided. “I knew I would win that bet, but seriously, you're crushing it, Jas. Don't forget it."