Chapter 29 Noelle
Noelle
It all started as a joke.
Willow had called it a “love spell,” tossing the words out so breezily I hadn’t realized she was serious until she started rummaging through the kitchen drawers, muttering about tea strainers and candle stubs.
Now, I was sitting cross-legged on the floor of the Ward living room, surrounded by women who had somehow become my people.
Delilah was perched on the couch in cutoff shorts and a glittery crop top, eating tortilla chips out of a mixing bowl.
Willow had brought in some dried herbs, wrapped in a vintage handkerchief and tied with ribbon.
June had a lighter between her teeth and a twinkle in her eye, barefoot and fully in her element.
“Have you heard from Flora?” Willow asked, looking up at Delilah. “She’s running late.”
“Yeah…she does that,” Delilah said. “Something about liminal spaces and the lack of accurate timekeeping in the Gloam.”
I snorted. “Does she know we’d be fine with it if she just lost track of time? I mean…she deserves a hell of a lot of leeway after rescuing us from a monster in the woods.”
“She does,” Delilah said with a grin, “but I think she enjoys the mystique.”
“I mean, don’t we all?” June struck a match and lit the first candle, eyes gleaming in the flicker. “Now hush. Let the vibes take hold.”
I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. The air smelled like rosemary and something sharp and green—something Flora, probably—and I couldn’t help the way my body relaxed into it. There was something comforting in the ritual, even if it had started as a joke.
The front door creaked open, and I leaned forward to see Flora kicking off her hiking boots by the front door.
She was wearing the same faded red duster she’d had on when she rescued us in the woods nearly a year ago, the same Yorkie—Pickles—tucked under her arm.
She’d braided her hair behind her back, a few twigs stuck in it like she couldn’t be bothered to avoid nature creeping in.
“Sorry I’m late,” Flora said. “I hope you didn’t have to start without me?”
“Without you?” Delilah said. “Of course not. I don’t think I need to remind you we don’t know what the hell we’re doing.”
“I mean…I kind of know what I’m doing,” Willow offered, “but I’ll be more helpful when you have a baby.”
“Hey,” I said, “I’m not even sure about the baby thing yet, so just…chill.”
Willow held up her hands in surrender, but her smile didn’t budge. “I’m just saying. I’ve got a spell for conception, too…and it makes sex really fun.”
June gave Willow a look that was part warning, part amusement—but her hand drifted, almost unconsciously, to rest on the soft curve of her belly. Her thumb rubbed lightly over her t-shirt as her smile turned private.
“I think that spell already worked,” she said, voice calm and full of something warm and secret.
Willow gasped. Delilah choked on a tortilla chip. Even Flora blinked and looked up from where she was setting a bundle of herbs on the coffee table.
“Wait—what?” I said, gaping.
June just shrugged, eyes glittering. “I haven’t told Silas yet. Don’t go running your mouths. But yeah…pretty sure I’m knocked up.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Delilah whooped and launched herself off the couch, hugging June so hard she nearly knocked them both over.
“Holy shit,” Delilah said, breathless. “Does this mean I get to be the drunk godmother?”
“No,” June said dryly, “but you can be the one to teach them how to play poker and lie to cops.”
“Reverend June,” Willow said, reaching over to lightly smack June on the arm. “What would God say?”
“Pretty sure She would say sex and love are holy and that we should try to focus on Noelle tonight,” June said. “Given that she’s the one getting married.”
Flora made a small approving noise, scooping a pinch of something from one of her little glass jars and sprinkling it into a bowl. “Hear, hear,” she said. “Let’s not jinx the bride before she even walks down the aisle.”
I lifted my hands, grinning. “Honestly, I’m just here for the vibes. If this spell gives me half the marriage either of you have, I’ll consider it a win.”
“Oh honey,” Delilah said, flopping back onto the couch with dramatic flair. “You’re gonna have the best one. You and Beau are disgusting. I saw you two making out behind the library yesterday like teenagers.”
“That was not—” I started, then caught June’s look and sighed. “Okay, fine. Maybe it was a little like that.”
Willow giggled and reached for the ribbon-tied bundle, setting it in the center of the little makeshift altar she’d arranged with candle stubs, flower petals, and a massive chunk of rose quartz. “Okay, bride-to-be. Put your hands out.”
I did, palms up, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden.
Flora handed me a sprig of rosemary. “For protection.”
Willow laid a little vial of salt in my left hand. “For grounding.”
Delilah, of course, plunked a lighter in my right palm. “For when shit inevitably gets weird.”
And June leaned in last, brushing a kiss against my temple. “And this,” she whispered, “for grace. Because love that lasts takes more of that than anyone tells you.”
I blinked hard, eyes suddenly hot. “Shit,” I said. “I wasn’t planning on crying during the fake spell.”
Flora stepped back and lit another candle. “Too bad. This is Willow Grove. The spells work whether you believe in them or not.”
The room quieted. Not in a heavy way—more like the hush that falls before a thunderstorm, or the pause between verses of a hymn. The kind of quiet that made you want to whisper, just in case the air was listening.
June knelt beside me and held out her hand. I gave her the sprig of rosemary, and she tucked it into the flame of the candle Flora had just lit. The smell shifted immediately—woodsy and clean, like fresh cut pine.
“Say something,” she told me. “One word you want to carry with you.”
I swallowed. “Trust.”
Delilah gave a little mmm of approval, like I’d just ordered something particularly good off a menu.
Next, Willow took the vial of salt, uncorked it, and let a few crystals fall onto the wax-stained plate in the center. “Your turn,” she said.
“Joy,” I said, surprised by how fast it came out.
Then came the lighter. Delilah held it like a talisman before tossing it lightly from hand to hand, as if weighing something.
“You don’t have to burn that one,” June told her dryly.
“No fun,” Delilah muttered, but she set it down and leaned in anyway. “Okay, bride. What do you want when things get weird?”
I didn’t even have to think. “Laughter.”
Flora nodded, approving. “A good choice. It keeps things tethered.”
“And what do you want,” June asked, “when love gets hard? When it’s not magic, not even comfort. Just…work?”
I looked down at the ring on my finger—the one Beau had slipped on during a moment that hadn’t been planned or official or anything close to conventional. The one I never took off.
“Home,” I said.
Flora murmured something under her breath, then stepped forward again. She passed a small bowl around the circle. Each woman dropped something in—salt, petals, a drop of oil, a torn scrap of paper.
Flora stirred it all with a bone-handled spoon, then took the bowl and held it over the candle flame just long enough for smoke to rise.
“By salt and spark,” June said, her voice like a steady drumbeat, “by root and flame—”
“Let this love burn bright,” Willow echoed, “and never wane.”
“By blood and breath,” Flora intoned, “by word and will—”
“Let it grow,” Delilah said, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it, “and hold us still.”
I felt it then. Just a little. A pressure in the air, like the room had inhaled and wasn’t quite ready to exhale. Like something unseen had pressed close to listen.
The candle flared—just once. Sharp and sudden and blue at the edges.
No wind. No open windows.
Just a flicker.
Just enough.
We didn’t say anything right away. Just looked at each other and smiled like idiots. There was laughter next—of course there was. And hugs, and chips passed around, and plans made for hair and shoes, and discussion of whether Shane would hook up with Ash at the wedding.
But somewhere in the middle of it, I looked down at my palms, and I swear they were still warm.
I’d come to Willow Grove as a skeptic…but love wasn’t the only thing I’d come to believe in here.
The magic was real, too.