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“That she doesn’t know?” He makes it sound like a question, but it’s clear it isn’t one.

“Yes, I do.” I say it with finality, and he looks as if he’s going to argue with me but then simply nods. He watches me, and I gather up the rest of my courage to ask the question I’ve needed to ask since the moment we met.

“Will you tell me the truth?” The words are quiet, my voice shaking. I am painfully aware that things will change after this. But not all change is bad, and that’s what I tell myself as I wait for Wolfe’s reply.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

I hesitate for one, two, three beats of my heart, and then I answer. “I’m sure.”

“Come to the water with me.”

I follow him into the shallows and kneel down next to him. The water laps over my knees, and I shiver. “What are we doing?”

“Do you remember the spell you used to pull in the tide?”

“Yes,” I say slowly, not understanding. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Try it now,” he says.

“What? Why?”

“Just trust me. Do the spell.”

I sigh and shake my head. I close my eyes and focus on the water around me, on the way it feels on my skin, and I call to my magic.

“Gentle tide, waters low, rise to us now, send us below.” I speak the words over and over, the same ones I used last time, but nothing happens. My magic doesn’t rise within me, and the water doesn’t change. It’s as if the sea has forgotten me.

“I don’t understand,” I say, opening my eyes, looking at Wolfe.

He takes off his silver ring and gently slips it onto my thumb. It’s heavy, with intricate carvings of waves and moonflowers adorning the metal. I let my fingers brush over it. “Try again,” he says.

I give him a questioning look but follow his instructions. I close my eyes and try to form a connection between the magic inside me and the water around me, and this time, my magic surges. I repeat the spell once more, and the tide rushes toward us, slamming into my chest and pushing me backward.

I cough as salt water enters my lungs, and I scramble to my feet. Wolfe is at my side, offering me his hand, and I take it, letting him lead me up the shore. We sit back down, and Wolfe dries our clothing.

“What just happened?”

“Do you remember the story I told you? About the first witch being born in a field of moonflowers?”

I nod.

“It’s true. We are all descended from her, and that flower is the source of our power. More specifically, all magic flows from that flower’s relationship to the moon. It’s what sustains our connection to the Earth and enables us to manipulate the world around us. In the absence of it, magic is not possible.” Wolfe reaches out and takes my hand. He keeps his eyes on mine as he slowly removes his ring from my finger and places it back on his own.

“This ring is filled with moonflower petals that I replenish every few days. This is the first time I can remember taking it off.” He says the words quietly, as if they’re special. Important, somehow.

“So your ring is what enabled me to pull in the tide?”

“The moonflower in my ring, yes.”

“But that doesn’t make sense. I use my magic every day to make the perfumes in my shop.”

Wolfe puts his head in his hands and lets out a heavy breath. “I really wish your mother had told you the truth.”

“I told you; she doesn’t know.”

He looks at me with an expression I can’t read—pity or sadness, maybe. He shakes his head. “It’s in the water supply.” He says the words plainly, void of emotion.

A shiver runs down my spine, and I hug my arms to my chest. “That can’t possibly be true.”

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