Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE
LIORA
How the hell was I supposed to focus on giving a proper reading when my insides were scrambled in knots and my heart was pumping wildly? Glancing at the clock, I swore, and then dove into the shower, needing a moment to calm myself.
Water always soothed me, and so after I’d scrubbed the important bits, I took a moment to sit, my hair piled on top of my head and my back to the hot spray of water.
How had we gotten here so fast?
Was it possible to feel something for someone after a few nights of long conversations and hearty meals by the fire?
I mean, it wasn’t like I’d just met Torin.
I knew him from years ago, and we’d also gotten along.
But I’d never looked at him in a romantic light.
Even though he was dead sexy. But he just wasn’t on my radar in that manner because he’d been with Avery.
Still, I was remembering more about him, now that we were spending time together, and I realized just how much I had genuinely liked him back in the day.
I could already hear Zara lecturing me about moving too quickly.
Which I wasn’t.
A few kisses meant nothing.
She was the one who had put me in this house. So it wasn’t like I was to blame for moving in with the lad. The only thing I’d done wrong was accidentally hit him with a truth spell.
“This light makes you look like a magickal wood nymph.”
Who even said things like that? A man who spent his time among the trees, that was who.
Either way, I needed to clear my head so I could give this kind widow a clear reading on what her future held for her this year. I silently begged the universe to not have her ask about her love life. I was terrified of giving one more reading that might end up being misinterpreted.
Finishing up, I hopped out of the shower, dried off, and hurriedly applied some light makeup before I put on jeans and a fitted long-sleeved T-shirt.
Piling a few of my crystal necklaces around my neck, I took my hair down, brushed it out, and then half-plaited it back.
By the time I’d finished, I had about ten minutes before Greta was due to arrive.
Cracking the door open, I peered out.
“Bracken?” I hissed.
“Aye, lass.”
I muffled a shriek as the squirrel bounded from the roof above my head to the ground in front of my feet.
“Damn it, that’s terrifying.” I laughed. “Um, do you want to help me with my reading? Just to maybe channel energy or whatnot? I’m worried that I might do something wrong.”
“Will I scare your client?”
“I don’t know. Maybe if I just tell her you’re my pet?” I looked up at the drive where I could hear a car approaching. “And, you know, you don’t jump on her face or something.”
“Damn it. That’s my favorite way to greet people.”
My lips quirked.
“Well, you know, maybe tone it down. Some people are terrified of rodents.”
“Rodent? Rude.” Bracken crossed his arms in front of his chest and I laughed. His mannerisms were so human-like at times.
“Luckily, I think you’re adorable. Okay, that’s her here. Maybe up on my shoulder?” I squealed as Bracken leapt straight from the ground to my shoulder and nestled by my neck. “Right, you need to give me some warning, buddy.”
“Did you not ask me to go on your shoulder?”
“Aye, I did, I did.” I pasted a smile on my face as Greta stopped her car and got out, a nervous smile on her face.
“Hi, Greta. How are you today?”
“Nervous, I’ll admit it.” Greta looked around and fidgeted with the strap of her handbag. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“It’s painless, I promise. You’ll be happy for it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Is that a squirrel on your shoulder?”
“Och, yes. This is Bracken. He’s my wee pet. Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”
“I’m a fierce warrior, actually. But she doesn’t need to know that.”
“He’s very handsome,” Greta said, coming closer. “I’ve always liked red squirrels.”
“I like her,” Bracken said, and I smiled, stepping back to welcome her inside.
I’d moved the chairs so we could face each other over the coffee table, and had my charts, my laptop, and my tarot cards ready.
I’d also placed out some of my favorite crystals and lit a pure white candle to cleanse the space.
I motioned for Greta to sit, tucking one leg under me on my own chair to try to look more relaxed than I felt. I was deeply struggling to focus on Greta and not the way Torin’s kiss had twisted my insides into knots.
Focus, Liora.
Greta perched on the edge of the armchair, fingers worrying the strap of her bag. She was in her mid-thirties, maybe, with tired eyes and hair twisted into a knot like an afterthought. There were faint shadows under her eyes and a smudge on her T-shirt that looked suspiciously like Weetabix.
Single mum energy.
“Can I get you anything? Tea? Water?” I asked.
“Oh, no, I’m fine, thank you.” Her gaze flicked to the candle, the crystals, then to my laptop. “It’s all … very atmospheric.”
“That’s code for ‘a bit woo-woo,’” I said lightly. “Don’t worry, we’ll keep things grounded. This is all just to help me tune in a bit.”
“And the squirrel?” she asked, eyes darting to Bracken, who’d rearranged himself like a furry scarf around my neck.
“Emotional support squirrel,” I said solemnly.
“I am a fiercely powerful companion, actually,” Bracken muttered in my ear. “But sure, let’s go with scarf.”
Greta huffed out a surprised laugh, some of the tension easing from her shoulders. “Right. Well, I suppose if I’m here, I may as well commit to giving this my all.”
“Perfect,” I said, pulling my laptop closer. “I’ll just need birth details on the form, aye? Date, time, place? Can you write it down for me?”
Greta took the paper, wrote down her information, and handed it back to me.
“So what we’ll do today is look at your natal chart—kind of like a soul blueprint, I’d say—and then we’ll check in on the transits for this year, especially around what you want to focus on. Does that sound okay?”
Greta chewed her lip, then nodded. “That’s …
what I was hoping for, actually. A bit of guidance.
I, um…” She swallowed. “After I lost my husband, I’ve felt like I’ve just been drifting.
I want to ask if I should do something. Take a chance.
And I don’t really trust myself to know if I’m being daft, or irresponsible, or—”
“Hey.” I set my hand on the table between us, palm up. “First things first. You’ve obviously been through a lot. So we go slow, and we look at it together. You’re not daft. You’re allowed to want more.”
Her eyes filled, just like that. She blinked rapidly, looking away. “Sorry. I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.”
“You’re allowed that too.” I offered a soft smile and moved a box of tissues across the table to her. I’d learned long ago to always keep tissues near during a reading. “But we’ll start with the basics, okay? Greta, you’re a Cancer Sun, Taurus Moon, Virgo Rising.”
“Is that good or bad?” Greta dabbed at her eyes.
“It’s very good,” I assured her. “It’s …
just who you are. This is the kind of chart that loves creating safety, comfort, and care—especially around home and family.
Cancer Sun means your heart lives with your people.
Taurus Moon loves tangible comfort, food, textiles, beautiful, practical things.
And Virgo Rising is the part of you that’s organized even when you feel like you’re falling apart.
You show up for everyone else, even when you’re exhausted. ”
Greta let out a shaky laugh. “That sounds … accurate. Too accurate. It’s a bit creepy, actually.”
“Occupational hazard,” I said wryly. “Astrology is like cosmic people-watching. Now, before we dig into what’s going on this year, is there anything you want to tell me about what’s brought you here? That’ll help me zero in on the right parts of the chart.”
Greta took a breath, lifted her chin like she was bracing for a wave, then nodded.
“It’s tough … grieving. And being a single mum, now.
” Her voice wobbled. “We, um, I, have two kids. They’re eight and five.
I … uh … I’m working nights at the supermarket now.
Shelf-stacking and till training. It’s honest work, but the hours are rubbish for the bairns.
My mum comes by most nights. I barely see them awake except for the school run and weekends. And I’m … tired. All the time.”
My heart clenched. “I’m so sorry, Greta.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” she whispered.
“And I know they mean well, but I don’t want people to be sorry.
I want … something that feels like a life again.
” She tugged at a chain around her neck that held a wedding ring.
“But I have an idea. That maybe, I don’t know …
could be something more. A business, maybe. My own thing.”
“That’s what you want to ask about?” I asked gently. “Whether you should go for it?”
“Aye.” She nodded, eyes huge. “Because if I quit the supermarket and it goes wrong, it’s not just me I’m hurting. It’s the kids. The mortgage. Everything.”
I nodded slowly, fingers hovering over the trackpad. “Okay. Then we’ll look at your second house—money, income—and your tenth house—career. Also your fourth house, of home and family, because this decision impacts all of that. And we’ll see what’s lit up.”
I clicked to pull up her chart, the familiar wheel spinning into place.
And then my entire world shifted.
For a moment, I thought it was a trick of the eyes. But it wasn’t the screen that changed. It was … everything.
The lines of Greta’s chart—those neat aspects connecting planets across the wheel—shimmered. Just the faintest glimmer at first, like sunlight on a loch. I blinked and leaned closer.
The lines thickened, glowing softly.
I blinked, uncertain of what I was seeing, and sucked in a breath as the chart lifted. Off the screen. And floated gently into the air.