Some even earlier.
Mine was when I was seventeen, triggered by the grief of losing my father. Luckily, I didn’t need the app then. I had a boyfriend.
Ex-boyfriend,I remind myself. One who, in the heat of all that passion and need, I had let mark me. Now everyone in town thinks I’m a bonded Omega when the truth is, I haven’t even seen my ex in a really long time.
I’m all alone.
Correction: I have Thistle.
Amara bursts out laughing so loud that half the tavern looks over. “TrueBond is a scam, and you know it. They’ve matched people with abusers, Caroline. Last month, a witch from Rosehill ended up in a pack where her Alphas literally controlled her life. She couldn’t even see her family when she wanted to.”
I wince. “Right. I read about that.”
“Besides, you don’t need an algorithm to tell you who belongs in your orbit. I can always put a pheromone charm on you. It would have all the men in here drooling for you in seconds.”
I blush. “Great. At least with you around, I know I will never die a spinster.”
“I would never let that happen,” she says with a mock gasp.
Outside, thunder rolls across the sky, deep and echoing. The windows shudder.
I glance toward the glass, uneasy. “That doesn’t sound good. You think it’s a Rift flare?”
She waves a hand dismissively. “Probably just some moody weather witch practicing cloud work. Stop worrying.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I’m charming,” she corrects with a smirk.
Our food arrives then—golden fries and ribs steaming, two mugs of ale frothy and cold. The scent makes my stomach rumble.
Amara flicks her fingers over her mug, whispering something under her breath. A faint shimmer of rose-gold light trails from her nails to the drink.
“What did you just do?”
“A little cheer charm.” She grins. “You’ve been working too many hours, sweetheart. You need it.”
I roll my eyes but take a sip anyway. Warmth blooms through me immediately, like sunlight under my ribs. My shoulders unclench.
“See?” she says. “I know how to fix you.”
“You’re intolerable.”
“And yet here you are, still my best friend.”
We fall into easy laughter, dipping fries in mustard and talking about everything—her law classes, my failed experiments, my bosses’ latest feud over cauldron maintenance. She tells me one of her professors, a stoic Beta from the Council, uses pheromone-dampening charms in class so the students don’t distract each other. I nearly choke on my ale at the thought.
When Benny comes back to check on us, the tavern has grown louder, voices raised in laughter and the occasional burst of music from someone’s enchanted fiddle. He leans his elbows on our table. “You two heading to the quarry tonight?”
Amara perks up. “There’s a party?”
“Yeah. Big one. Full moon. Drinks, dancing, the works. You should come.”
I glance toward the rain streaking down the window. “In this weather?”
He shrugs, grinning. “Little rain never hurt anyone. Besides, when the quarry glows under the storm clouds—it’s something else.”
“That’s what worries me,” I mutter. “Isn’t glowing under storm clouds one of the signs of a Rift flare?”
