“You’re a beginner,” he says stiffly, staring down at the ground. “And I pushed you too hard. I shouldn’t have said those things.”
“You were right. This was a mistake.”
“Don’t say that. Don’t give up, not because of me.”
“It’s not your fault.” That honor falls to me. “I never should have insisted on this.”
“Josh, come on…” Posture rigid and hands clenched tightly at his sides, this may be the most strained, awkward pep talk in history. But I think he’s sincere. If he wasn’t, he would have let me storm away without a backward glance.
But that doesn’t mean we should keep sparring. We’ve done enough fighting.
“It’s okay. We both know I’m not cut out for fighting.”
“Well, yeah,” he agrees instantly.
I blink. “I thought you were apologizing or trying to get me to change my mind.”
He shrugs. “You’re right. You suck at fighting. If you want to get better, you should. But you’ll never be a strong wolf.”
Wow. It shouldn’t hurt so much, him saying what I know he’s thinking. It still stings.
“See you around, Bane.” I turn to leave, resolved to go back to how things were before. Back to watching him from afar, glimpsing him with his dates as he cruises through town. That seems safer.
“Hold on.” Bane blocks my path again. “You’re not a fighter. So what? Why do you even care? Your witch side is stronger. That’s what you should focus on, your magic.”
I wince and let out a bitter laugh. “Sounds great. Except I don’t have magic.”
“Yes, you do. My instincts don’t lie.” Bane doesn’t miss a beat. He stares me right in the eyes and announces, “You’re a witch.”
9.Magical Moments
Josh
Bane strolls through the aisles of Fern and Flower, eyeing the shelves like he’s a master of the mystical arts. He pauses to pick up a jar of dried sage, inspecting the contents with a critical eye. I bite back a laugh; this guy couldn’t tell a potion from a can of paint.
He acted like a dead man walking when the potion spilled on him, but he shows no signs of being a magical novice now.
“Hmm, this might work,” he mutters when he finds a deep purple amethyst stone.
“Oh, but it’s hard to beat clear quartz crystal for a ritual like this,” my mother adds next to him.
“Yeah, you’re right. Why mess with a classic?”
It’s almost like they’re two witches debating on the best approach. Except Bane picks the wrong clear gem twice and my mom keeps coughing pointedly until he finally lands on the right stone.
I should help. It’s my ritual they’re preparing for. I rest against the counter, still trying to process how we ended up here.
Bane’s certainty about my magical capabilities made me call my mother, and she met us at the store. Maybe she’s humoring us, but she quickly decided on a ritual to target power that’s been lying dormant.
I still can’t believe this. I might have magic. If there’s a chance, I need to try, right?
“We’re almost ready for you, pumpkin.” Mom’s lighting some incense at a display table she and Bane cleared off to set up the ritual.
“Pumpkin?” the wolf echoes. “Now I’m torn. Pumpkin or puppy?”
“Don’t even think about it,” I growl at him. He smiles, and I find myself smiling back.
The dark quiet of the store at night usually feels peaceful, but not even the freshly lit incense calms my nerves. This sandalwood and rosemary blend—good for unlocking hidden potential—always makes me sneeze.
