Page 13 of Owl’s Cherished Mate

By the next day, I was running on two hours of sleep and a level of anxiety that made my hands unsteady enough for Mila to notice. I’d nearly dropped a plate of scallops during the rush, and when I fumbled a sweet tea refill at table four, she pulled me aside.

“Take your break early,” she said. It wasn’t a suggestion. When I opened my mouth to argue, she cut me off. “You’ve been running on fumes, and I need you in one piece. Go get some air. Eat something. The Grill will survive without you for an hour.”

So I did. I stepped out and walked down Main Street. The cool salt breeze off the ocean helped a little. The sound of the waves in the distance helped even more. Even so, nothing could fully quiet the tornado of chaos swirling through my mind.

The Crystal Cove Shop caught my eye. I’d walked past it a hundred times but never gone in. It was a small place with sea glass and crystal wind chimes hung out front. I didn’t believe in crystals or good luck charms, but at this point, I was willing to try anything.

A bell jingled softly when I pushed open the door.

Inside, it smelled like herbs and something floral I couldn’t name. Shelves lined with candles, crystals, and little trinkets filled the cozy space. A woman stood behind the counter—tall and willowy, with silver-streaked dark hair in a loose braid, and pale gray eyes that crinkled when she smiled.

“Welcome,” she said. “I’m Eleanor. Looking for anything in particular?”

“Just browsing.” I ran my fingers over a display of sea glass. “Thanks.”

Before Eleanor could say anything more, a voice came from the seating area near the front window.

“The wind has been restless about you for days, child.”

I turned. An elderly woman sat at a small table with a steaming teacup and a worn deck of Tarot cards in front of her. She had wild gray hair and wore a purple shawl draped over her shoulders.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Sit.” She gestured to the empty chair across from her. “The cards have been waiting.”

“I don’t really...” I glanced at Eleanor, who smiled encouragingly.

“Maribel’s readings are always insightful,” she said. “Go on. Sit. You won’t regret it.”

I should have politely declined and gone back to work. I had twenty minutes left on my break and a mountain of problems to deal with, none of which would be solved by a Tarot reading from a stranger in a crystal shop. Even so, something about the old woman’s eyes pulled me in.

Before I knew what I was doing, I sat down in the chair across from her.

“I’m Maribel,” she said, shuffling the worn cards. “And you’ve been fighting alone for too long.”

My pulse quickened. “How did you⁠—”

“Cut the deck into three, and then stack them back together,” she instructed, holding it out to me.

My hands moved before I’d decided to cooperate. The cards felt warm beneath my fingertips. Goose bumps prickled across my skin as I touched them.

Maribel took the deck back and flipped the first card onto the table between us. A woman knelt beside a pool of water beneath a sky full of stars, pouring water from two pitchers.

“The Star,” she said, tracing the edge of the card with one finger. “Hope after devastation.” She looked up at me. “You’ve had everything stripped away—family, trust, stability. But you’re still here. Still fighting. This card says healing has already begun, even if you can’t feel it yet.”

My throat tightened.

She flipped the second card, and I leaned forward to see it better. The image made my stomach drop. There was a figure facedown on the ground with swords buried deep in their back.

“The Ten of Swords,” she said, her expression sobering. Her head tilted as though listening to something I couldn’t hear. “You’ve hit the bottom, child. You know it. You feel it. But this card isn’t the curse people think it is.” She tapped the image. “See the sky? The darkness is lifting. The Ten of Swords means the worst is already here. You’re living in it right now. Which means the only direction left is up.”

I stared at the card, not sure how to feel about that.

How was the worst almost over? What did that mean? What did it even look like at this point?

She flipped the third card. It revealed two figures facing each other, each holding a golden cup. Between them, a winged lion’s head hovered. There was something charged about the image—two people seeing each other clearly, choosing each other.

“The Two of Cups. Partnership. Trust. A connection between two people who see each other for who they truly are,” the woman said.