Junie’s eyes went wide. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m also expanding the flower shop space in the gardens. There’s a greenhouse that’s been abandoned since Deia died—I’m restoring it. Going to sell star-blooming flowers to the public. Maybe teach classes on celestial gardening.” She took a breath. “And I’m planting wisteria along the cottage fence. Takes seven years to bloom properly.”
“Sevenyears.”
“That’s how you know it’s real.” She met her cousin’s gaze. “When you start planting things you won’t be around to see bloom. That means you’re planning to stick around.”
Junie tackled her in a hug so fierce, it nearly knocked them both off the bench. Chaos magic crackled where they touched, making Lunaria’s celestial energy spark in response.
“A decade,” Junie said into her shoulder. “A whole decade of you running, and it took a bureaucratic lion to make you stop.”
“He’s not that bureaucratic.”
“Luna.” Junie pulled back, her expression incredulous. “He made you fill out forms to access the garden shed.”
“That was—” She laughed, the sound surprising her with its ease. “Okay, he’s a little bureaucratic. He reorganizes his closet when he’s stressed. He has color-coded filing systems.”
“And you love him anyway.”
“Because of it, actually.” She touched the place on her chest where the bond hummed, warm and steady. “All that control, all that order—it’s how he copes. How he held himself steady when everything else was chaos. And he chose to let me disrupt all of it. Chose to want me anyway.”
She could feel him, across town. In his office, probably buried in the paperwork that had accumulated during the crisis. His presence in her awareness was constant—not intrusive, just there. Like a heartbeat she’d never noticed before but couldn’t imagine living without.
Right now, he was... content. A little tired. Focused on whatever document was in front of him. And beneath it all, a steady current of warmth that pulsed whenever he thought about her.
Which, based on the frequency, was approximately every few minutes.
“The others are waiting at the brewery,” Junie said. “Victory celebration. You’re required to attend.”
“Required?”
“Non-negotiable. Sue Tideswell’s orders. She said, and I quote, ‘The celestial witch who defeated the void entity will attend the celebration, or I will personally drag her there by her curls.’”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“From Sue? It’s definitely a threat. She’s been intolerable since the battle. Something about having ‘positioned the pieces correctly’ and ‘six successful matches.’” Junie stood, offering her hand. “Come on. Free drinks, good food, and you get to watch Delos panic every time someone mentions the word date.”
“What happened to Delos?”
“Sue has another date lined up for him. He’s been hiding behind Aero all week.”
Lunaria took her cousin’s hand, letting herself be pulled to her feet. “I’ll be there. Just... give me a minute.”
Junie’s expression softened. She squeezed Lunaria’s fingers once, then headed down the pavilion steps.
Alone, Lunaria looked up at the sky.
The stars were invisible in daylight, hidden behind the blue, but she could feel them. She always could. Her magic reached for them instinctively, tracing their positions, reading their movements.
She read her own chart. Not her fate—her present. Her position among the constellations.
The blank space was gone.
Her future stretched out in front of her, visible again, full of possibility. She saw the gardens thriving under her care. Saw the cottage becoming a home—pictures on walls, plants on sills, the accumulated mess of a life lived in one place. Saw herself teaching, nurturing, building something that would outlast her.
Saw Hux beside her in all of it. Constant. Chosen. Hers.
The stars had stopped showing her death. Maybe that meant she’d be here for a while. Maybe it meant something different entirely.
