CHAPTER 7

CASSIE

I flip through a few of the ancient spell-books I managed to sneak into my room. From what I can gather, the real trick to casting a good spell relies entirely on confidence and learning how to properly tune into your elemental chakra. Every witch has a distinct specialty, just like werewolves do.

A gentle, sudden knock on the wood startles me. I scramble, quickly hiding the heavy book underneath my bed frame before sitting up straight and smoothing out my clothes. “Come in,” I call out, trying to sound as composed as possible.

Nikolai pokes his head through the opening, offering a brief wave before stepping fully into the room. He stops just at the foot of my bed, a relaxed smile on his face.

“I heard today is your first proper lesson. Let us take a walk,” he suggests, gesturing out toward the hallway. “It helps clear the mind. You humans call it a stroll, right?”

I tilt my head, a small smirk playing on my lips. “Oh, so you know human terminology now?”

“You’d be surprised by just how much I know, Cassie.”

“Like what?”

“You will find out more during our stroll.” He stretches his hand out toward me.

I place my palm in his, and he effortlessly pulls me up from the mattress. As I stand, his arm smoothly slides around my waist, pulling me a fraction closer. It feels like an incredibly deliberate, calculated move.

Two can play that game.

Instead of pulling away, I shift even closer to him, entirely closing the physical gap between us. I loop both of my hands around his neck. His eyes widen in brief surprise before a knowing smile breaks across his face, and he shakes his head. Satisfied with his reaction, I let go of him and take a playful step backward.

“You seem to be moving awfully fast,” I tease, holding his gaze. “Now look who’s touching whom.”

He lets out a low, melodic chuckle. “What can I say? It is a primordial thing.”

“Primordial?” I furrow my eyebrows, the unusual word catching me off guard. The bright smile on his face suddenly drops, turning into something soft and slightly sad.

“We have a lot to talk about on our walk,” he says quietly, gesturing toward the open door. I nod, paving the way by walking out ahead of him.

We navigate the winding hallways and descend the grand stone stairs until we are stepping out into the sprawling courtyard garden. Looking closely at the flora, I can instantly tell that many of these plants could be used as potent medicine—or deadly weapons. Did the witches plant these intentionally, or are they completely oblivious to the arsenal growing in their own backyard?

“You are a plant person, I must say.” Nikolai catches me staring intently at a bush, breaking the quiet.

I nod, stepping closer to a cluster of vibrant hibiscus flowers. I point at a particularly bright bloom. “Can I pluck it?”

“Yeah.” He nods, watching me closely.

I pinch the stem, plucking the flower before bringing it up to sniff the petals. The moment the scent hits me, a massive wave of intense nostalgia strikes so hard that the world tilts, making me momentarily dizzy. Images from my childhood rush to the surface. I remember Uncle Daz plucking an identical flower for my mother. He had bowed to her like a proper English butler, stretching his hand out with the blossom. Mom had taken it, giving it a playful little flick of her wrist, and the petals had evaporated, turning into a cloud of glowing fireflies.

Knowing what I know now, I realize it wasn't a magic trick at all. It was witchery.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Nikolai’s voice gently pulls me back to the present. I look up, clearing the fog from my eyes.

“Well... my uncle used to pluck these for my mom,” I share, a soft, melancholy chuckle escaping me as I stand back up to my feet. “She would turn them into fireflies. Beautiful, colorful ones that lit up the entire courtyard. Then he would hold her hand, and they would dance. I used to watch them from the window, wondering if they were secretly in love. They always acted more like lovers than in-laws.”

I hold the flower out to him, and he takes it from my fingers.

“I can’t cast spells like the rest of you do,” Nikolai says, his eyes softening as he looks at the bloom. “But we can dance, if you want.”

Before I can answer, he places the stem of the flower between his teeth and bends at the waist, extending his hands forward in a posture of perfect, dramatic chivalry.

Is he actually serious? I chuckle, my chest fluttering. It is incredibly sweet.

I place my hand firmly in his, and he stands up straight, taking the lead.

“Next time, I will plan a proper ballroom,” he promises around the stem of the flower, his hands settling onto my waist to guide my movements.

He pushes his legs forward, and I instinctively step backward, matching his rhythm. He moves to the left, and I follow without hesitation. He swirls me briefly, guiding us in slow circles around the stone path. His eyes never once leave mine. He looks so much better, so much more present than he did on that chaotic plane ride, and I realize in that moment that I never want to see him look that broken again. It makes me feel fiercely protective of whatever my fate here turns out to be.

He spins me around again, and this time, I close my eyes, completely giving into the safety and nostalgia of the moment. In the darkness behind my eyelids, I can almost picture Mom and Uncle Daz dancing right beside us. Uncle Daz—a huge, well-built man with the meanest face but the absolute sweetest heart, his wavy hair always pushed straight back. And Mom—a tall, effortlessly confident woman.

When I finally open my eyes, I am resting securely in Nikolai's arms. Our chests rise and fall in perfect synchronization, as if our heartbeats are keeping time with the childhood memories we just relived.

“Your Highness—” Trish’s voice cuts through the quiet air, causing us to instantly pull away from each other. Neither of us looks directly at the other, a sudden, heavy awkwardness settling between us.

“Your council meeting starts now, Your Highness.” Trish’s eyes dart curiously back and forth between me and Nikolai.

Nikolai clears his throat, his deep voice causing me to look back up at him. “Later?”

“Later sounds nice,” I nod, offering a faint smile.

I step away, instantly forcing the warm nostalgia down. I pull my defensive walls right back up, locking away my emotions. Survival requires focus, and it is time to put on my game face.