It doesn’t help that I can sense wherever Connor is right now, he’s anxious too. He told me there’s a limited range on our connection, but was vague about what that distance was. I texted him when I first felt his discomfort, and he responded that he was fine and he’d see me soon. Not a lot to go on, but I’m working on trust—no easy thing when new information I should already know keeps popping up around me.
“Why don’t you show me what you made?” Mildred prompts, startling me from my thoughts of Connor. Sometimes the mate bond is like a dial, quieting when I’m distracted and booming surround sound if I pay attention to it.
I nod, chewing on my lip, and lead my… nan into the next room.
Apparently, a common tradition during the Yule among witch society is to light a fire—like the tradition of a Yule log. It symbolizes hope in the darkness as well as change and renewal. Fire burns away whatwasto allow space for whatcould be. This is also usually accompanied with a burning ceremony where we write down what needs to be burned away in our lives, so we can start the next year without being bogged down by the past. All nice in theory, except as past experiences have dictated, I’m not all that great with open flames, and I don’t think writing down all my issues on a piece of paper to be destroyed is really going to do much.
Always the problem solver, my… nan updated the tradition and taught me a new spell at the same time. Instead of real candles or a large fire out in the yard, she taught me to create illusions of balls of light that I could then float in the air like something out of Harry Potter. Since I was making them, I could dictate what they looked like and know they weren’t real.
Flipping off all the light switches, I take in the living room glowing with the soft white light of my illusions. Some are nestled within the pine wreaths and garlands strewn around the house, while others float a foot or so from the ceiling, bobbing slightly, as if an unknown breeze plays among the lights.
“Darling, they’re beautiful. I’m so proud of you,” Mildred praises, wrapping her arm around my shoulders and kissing my cheek.
When I glance up at her, I notice the tracks of silent tears, and I, in turn, wrap my arms around her waist in a hug. Resting my head against her shoulder, I whisper, this time with no hesitation, “Thank you, Nan.”
“I wish your mother could see this,” she murmurs, delicately wiping at her eyes. “Lina would’ve been so happy to see how you’ve grown into such a capable, young witch.”
“They’re party lights, not rocket science, but I’m glad you think so,” I reply, sniffing away the emotions stinging my eyes.
“These illusions require you to use equal parts air and fire magic in perfect harmony. The witch must also make them strong enough to last through the night, while not making them too strong, or they’ll stop being illusions—instead, turning into elemental bombs,” she explains nonchalantly, like someone would share an interesting fact about a piece of architecture.
“What?” I screech, immediately running over to the couch to scoop up Mr. Mischief, who’s playing with one of the illusion lights I made for him. He can’t move it, but he appears to enjoy sticking his paw in it and batting it around. This also keeps him from climbing into and chewing on the pine decorations. “Why didn’t you tell me I was making potential inferno bombs?”
“Inferno bombs. That’s a good name,” she muses, humming and tapping on her lips. “That’s a spell you should consider recording in your grimoire. Once perfected, that would be an excellent addition to the family grimoire as well.”
“Glad you think so,” I mutter, giving her a look, while the cat tries to climb onto my shoulder. It seems I’m too short for his tastes—that or he’s noticed the lights floating in the air.
“I have complete faith in your abilities, and with your power, the spells themselves aren’t challenging. They simply required confidence and focus,” Mildred assures me, retrieving the cat from my arms and placing him on top of his very tall cat tree in the corner. With a murmured word and graceful turn of her wrist, the illusion light from the couch floats into one of the enclosed cubbies, and Mr. Mischief immediately chases after it. “If I told you what could go wrong, then it would have. Intent is the most important part of spellcasting.”
Dusting off the cat hair on my sweater, I sigh and reply, “I know, but it still would’ve been nice to know.”
“And now you do—after you learned you were capable of doing the spell correctly,” she states with her teacher face on.
As she promised, we started private lessons on top of my Sunday lessons after I silenced the entire town. Fortunately, she’s mixed meditation and breathing exercises while teaching me about actual magic. The time together has helped a lot in mending our relationship. It’s hard to be angry when she’s teaching me cool new spells… all of them requiring calm, focus, and patience to cast. She’s clever like that.
Before I can reply, there’s a knock at the front door announcing the guys’ arrival. Adjusting the collar of my sweater, again, I quickly walk over and open the door.
“Happy Yule,” I cheer with a beaming smile.
All the guys are huddled on the doorstep, stomping the snow from their shoes, and they look up when I open the door. They wear various expressions ranging from Felix looking like he choked on something to the slow grin that spreads across Nolan’s lips.
“Happy Yule,” Kaleb greets warmly, first to step into the house. He wraps his arms around me and hugs me tight. I sink into his embrace, enjoying the crisp scent of the cold outdoors mixed with his normal hints of sandalwood. Before releasing me, he presses a kiss to my temple and murmurs, “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I breathe, fiddling with my necklace, while stepping aside so he can remove his coat and boots.
My heart does an excited thump and butterflies dance in my belly over his compliment. Since the evening would just be the guys, Mildred, and me, I was worried they might think it was silly I bothered to dress nice—I even put on a little makeup. Turns out, it’s not silly at all. Kaleb removes his winter coat and reveals he’s wearing a dress shirt the same color as my sweater. A shirt that looks quite nice across his broad shoulders and thickly muscled torso.
My fingers tingle to trace the muscles on his back, and ‘Do it! Do it! Do it!’cheers from the back of mind in Mei’s voice. Her insistence that they’re all my boyfriends, and I’m the only one who doesn’t seem to understand it, has played havoc with my feelings. The insecure side of me demands they say it first and openly admit their feelings for me. The considerate side encourages me to say it first, because it’s not as simple as our potential mutual feelings. There’s the whole thing where I’m also involved with at least two of their best friends. Then there’s the practical side, which complains that this is all dumb, and I have bigger shit to worry about than whether any of the other guyslike melike me. For example, bringing someone back from the dead.
Down, girl. Friendly holiday gathering… not too friendly.
Nolan greets me next. With his salacious grin still in place, he hugs me, one of his arms wrapped tight around my waist while the other fingers brush the lace at my neck.
“Happy Yule, Callie love,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin. “It’s strange. Suddenly, I’m starving. Think you could help me with that?”
“There are mince pies and sugar cookies in the kitchen,” I reply, blinking up at him innocently.
He laughs, the smooth sound triggering a cascade of shivers down my spine. Softly brushing his lips against my cheek, he sighs, “Not exactly the sugar I was looking for, but it’ll have to do.”
