The pathto the tide pools wound down from the cliffs north of town—the same cliffs where Leo had been ambushed three days ago, though Junie deliberately chose a different route. The night was clear, the full moon turning everything silver and shadow. Glimmer rode on Junie’s shoulder, scales catching the moonlight in iridescent ripples.
“These pools,” Leo said as they walked, “are they magical?”
“Everything in Haven Shores is at least a little magical. But the tide pools are special.” Junie ducked under a low-hanging branch, holding it back for him. “The town sits on a ley line intersection—that’s why witches settled here centuries ago. The pools are where the lines surface. Raw magical energy, filtered through sea water and moonlight.”
“That sounds potentially dangerous.”
“Most good things are.” She shot him a smile over her shoulder. “Trust me.”
The path opened onto a rocky shelf that jutted out over the water. Below, carved into the dark stone, lay a series of pools ranging from the size of bathtubs to small swimming holes. The moonlight turned the water into liquid silver, and even fromhere, Junie could feel the hum of magic rising from them like heat from summer pavement.
“We’re here.” She set down the basket and spread a blanket on a flat stretch of rock. “Welcome to the most magical spot in Haven Shores. Also, the most romantic, according to approximately forty percent of local marriage proposals.”
Leo surveyed the scene with that assessing gaze she’d grown accustomed to. Taking in angles, exits, potential threats. The instincts of a man who’d survived by being careful.
“It’s beautiful,” he admitted.
“Wait until you see what the pools can do.” Junie kicked off her boots and started rolling up her jeans. “Shoes off, Castellan. And roll up those ridiculously expensive pants.”
“These are?—”
“Designer, I know. Custom-tailored. Worth more than my first car. Off.”
He stared at her for a moment. Then, with the air of a man surrendering to the inevitable, he bent to remove his shoes.
The water wascold enough to make Leo hiss when he stepped in, but he didn’t complain. Junie watched him wade into the first pool—ankle-deep, the water swirling around his rolled-up pants with a faint luminescence—and felt a surge of affection so strong it nearly knocked her sideways.
This man.This ridiculous, controlled, stubborn man, standing barefoot in magical tide pools because I asked him to.
“This one’s the Mirror Pool.” She waded in beside him. The water tingled against her skin, familiar and welcoming. “Look into it.”
Leo looked down. The surface of the pool rippled, then went glass-still despite the waves crashing nearby. His reflection stared back at him—and then shifted.
“What—”
“Possible futures.” Junie watched his face as the images played out in the water. She couldn’t see them—the pool showed each person their own visions—but she could read his expression. Surprise. Confusion. A flicker of hope.
“These aren’t real.” His voice was rough. “They can’t be.”
“They’re possibilities. Things that could happen if you make certain choices.” She nudged his shoulder with hers. “What do you see?”
He was quiet, staring at the pool. The moonlight caught his profile, sharp and classical in the silver glow, and Junie found herself memorizing it—the strong jaw, the slight furrow between his brows, the way his hair had fallen across his forehead in a way she was certain he’d never allow in daylight.
“I see a life I never thought I’d want.” His voice was rough. “A life that doesn’t look anything like the one I planned.”
“Is that bad?”
He turned to look at her. The intensity in his gaze sent a jolt through her.
“No.” He said softly. “It’s not bad at all.”
They movedfrom pool to pool, and Junie showed him each one’s particular magic.
The Heart Pool was smaller, tucked into an alcove where the rocks formed a natural shelter from the wind. When they stepped into it, the water heated instantly, responding to theirpresence. Junie felt the familiar tingling sensation of the pool reading her emotions, amplifying them, reflecting them back.
“This one shows true feelings,” she explained. “Not thoughts—feelings. The emotions we hide from ourselves.”
“That seems invasive.”
