Page 49 of Impawssible Magic

“I’m not—” I start, but Zeph cuts me off with a look.

“Please. You’re both terrified. The only question is whether you’re more scared of being hurt again or missing out on something real.”

I stare at her. When did Zeph get insightful?

“I’m deep.” She waves a hand. “Also, I’ve had a lot of wine. Want some more?”

The conversation shifts after that. Lighter. Easier. Sakura talks about Torin—how he brought her a potted plant when she mentioned missing her garden, how he sits outside her studio during storms like he’s guarding against the weather itself.

“He’s... confusing.” She twists a strand of hair around her finger. “He’s so gentle. But then I remember he’s a bear and could probably knock down a building with one paw, and I don’t know what to do with that.”

“The gentle ones are the worst.” Zeph waves her wine glass. “At least when they’re assholes you know where you stand. The sweet ones sneak up on you.”

“Speaking of which—” I grab the opportunity. “What about Rhodes?”

Zeph rolls her eyes so hard, I’m worried they’ll get stuck. “Rhodes Blackthorn has been inspecting my brewery three times this week. Three times! Apparently there have been ‘complaints’ about ‘magical incidents.’”

“Haven’t there been magical incidents?” Sakura’s innocence is almost convincing.

“That’s beside the point!” Zeph throws her hands up. “He’s insufferable. All ‘proper protocols’ and ‘documentation’ and ‘Miss Grimwood, are you aware that your latest batch caused three customers to speak in rhyme for four hours?’”

“Did it?” I can’t help but grin.

“They thought it was hilarious! They ordered another round!” Zeph grabs her wine. “But does Mr. I-Have-A-Stick-Up-My-Ass care? No. He just writes things in his little notebook and looks at me like I’m a problem to be solved.”

We dissolve into laughter. The sound fills the apothecary, bright and warm against the dark windows.

Anouk returns from the front with a dusty bottle and four small glasses of something clear and faintly glowing. Sakura teaches us a drinking game involving guessing magical ingredients by smell. Zeph wins every round. Anouk identifies seventeen herbs in a row without missing once, then denies being competitive.

“What about you, Anouk?” I don’t entirely mean to ask it. “Any shifter drama in your life?”

The silence that follows is different. Loaded. Anouk’s face goes very still.

“No.” Her voice is quiet. “Nothing to report.”

Zeph catches my eye. Her expression says Caius as clearly as if she’d spoken it aloud. The wolf alpha. The one who leads the Protection Network. The one who, according to brewery gossip, has been quietly watching Anouk for years.

I let it go. Some secrets aren’t mine to push.

Late—very late—Sakura asks the question I’ve been avoiding.

“Are you scared?”

I stare into my glass. The answer rises up, unstoppable.

“Terrified. What if I trust him and he betrays me too? What if I let myself—” I can’t say love. The word sticks in my throat. “What if I let myself care about him and lose him anyway?”

No one has a good answer. I didn’t expect them to.

But Zeph leans over and squeezes my hand. Sakura shifts her chair closer until her shoulder touches mine. Anouk refills my glass with quiet understanding.

They hold space for the fear. For now, that’s enough.

The walk home is cold, the mist thick around my ankles. I’m not drunk—the glowing stuff wore off faster than wine—but I’m loose-limbed, pleasantly fuzzy. Happy, maybe. Or something close to it.

I didn’t text Aslan. Somewhere between the third glass and Sakura’s story about accidentally flooding the brewery bathroom, I forgot.

The shape materializes from the mist before I reach my door.