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“Is she jealous?” Dad asks, completely serious, even though we’re talking about a house.

I shake my head. “Gods, how am I supposed to know? It’s not like I can talk to her.”

I’m a death witch—a reaper—but not the useful sort. I can’t talk to the dead. I can, supposedly, control the energy of death—delay it, speed it up, tell when someone is about to croak. Useless. There’s a reason I’d rather focus on mundane magic than the specialty that haunts me.

Most witches get to choose their magic. Mine chose me, even when I begged it not to.

“We can set up an appointment with a medium,” Dad says.

I shake my head. There are some wounds that shouldn’t be opened again, and if that means I have to avoid the cottage, so be it.

Maybe she would understand if I told her, but I can’t. Last time…

“Then you need to talk to her,” Pops says as if he’s reading my mind. Knowing his intuitive senses, he probably is.

“I know,” I whisper.

I don’t have to ask whether he’s talking about Aurora or Wendy. The answer is probably both.

But I can’t. Not yet. I can’t lose her yet.

I clear my throat. “I’m going to invite her to family dinner, if that’s all right with you.”

Pops claps his hands together. “Splendid!”

“Does she have any allergies?” Dad asks.

“I’ll let you know.”

I had to turn down the invitation to her family dinner, but hopefully, this will make up for it. Aurora needs to know I’m serious about her. Nothing—bar for my magic threatening her life—could change that.

Chapter 36

Aurora

This would be a good sign—Sterling inviting me to his family dinner—but his rejecting my invitation is the least of my worries now. I know something about him. Something I shouldn’t know. And at the same time, I have no clue what’s going on.

We’re still together, and I want to do this right. So, when he asks me over, I accept. It’s about time I get to know his dads a little better, anyway.

I wear my most family-friendly outfit—the skirt a little longer than usual, the top a little higher—and meet them right on time. As on edge as I may be, I want to make the best first impression possible.

The moment Sterling answers the door, laughter and jazz music spill out, and my heart tugs. That’s the sound of a happy family, something my family is still remembering how to be.

I wet my lips, bouncing up and down as I force on a smile. “Well? Are you going to let me in?”

An adorable pink flush roams from his cheeks all the way to the tips of his ears. Maybe he’s nervous, or maybe he’s helping his fathers cook. I already have evidence that he’s a decent at-home cook.

“Please,” he whispers. “Come in. And if anyone tries to embarrass me…”

“Impossible. You already embarrassed yourself the day we met, remember?” I squeeze his fingers, giggling. “You weren’t exactly the most charming man back then.”

“I was having a bad day.”

Suddenly, I want to know more about that bad day. Is it related to the house? He framed it as a breakup, but what if it was something else? This isn’t the time to ask.

“How did you get here?” Sterling squints at the door. “I would have driven with you, but my dads asked for my help.” He lowers his voice. “And I had to lecture them⁠—”

“It’s fine. Seriously. Leo dropped me off.”