All Chapters of Temptations of The Coven: Chapter 21 - Chapter 30

By sunset, the grove had been scraped clean of soot and embarrassment—mostly. Thea still smelled faintly of burnt mint, Dylan’s hair still held an accusing streak of ash, and Cleopatra lurked at the edge of the gathering like a feathered omen of further disaster.Rows of candles ringed the clearing, each perched on runed stones forming the wide spiral of the Greed Ritual. The air hummed with a faint golden tension: power disguised as serenity. Witches, wolves, and vampires sat shoulder to shoulder, eyes lowered, pretending centuries of distrust could be erased by synchronized breathing.Darcy’s voice carried through the dusk. “Greed is the hunger to possess what cannot be kept. Tonight, we surrender to the balance of the leyline. Light your flame and release your hold.”Thea tried not to snort. Release my hold, she thought. Sure—on sanity, probably. She struck a match, touched it to her candle, and the wick flared with green fire that steadied into calm gold.Dylan settled beside her,

The grove didn’t sleep. It hummed.Low and constant, like a sound too ancient to fade. The wards around me pulsed in rhythm with the ground, faint blue veins of light crawling over my skin. Every few seconds, they throbbed — taking, tightening, reminding me I wasn’t going anywhere but my cottage.I’d been staring at the ceiling for… gods, I’d lost count. Maybe an hour. Maybe a lifetime. The first few minutes after the Council left were filled with adrenaline, swearing, and several failed attempts to break the wards by sheer force of attitude. When that failed, I sat down, crossed my legs, and muttered to myself like an old woman arguing with her ghost collection.“Right,” I told the empty room. “Imprisoned by my mother. Again. Love that for me. Totally normal Thursday, and the complete opposite of soul-crushing.”Silence answered — at least, until the whisper came.You could open the door for me.My spine went rigid. The voice wasn’t loud. It brushed the back of my thoughts like the g

Morning sunlight spilled through the trees like someone had forgotten to dim reality. I woke this time to warmth on my face, the smell of damp earth, and the sound of someone softly cursing across the grove.“Dylan?”He was leaning against the barrier, forehead pressed to the glassy shimmer, muttering under his breath. His hair was a disaster. His shirt was wrinkled. He looked like every bad decision I’d ever wanted to make twice.“You’re going to bruise that pretty face,” I said.He startled, then relaxed a fraction. “G'morning.”“Define ‘morning.’”“Too early,” he said, voice rough with sleep.“Agreed.”We lay there a moment — separated by inches and a magical headache. The barrier still glowed faintly gold where his hand brushed it. Neither of us said what we were both thinking: that it had almost given way last night. That we’d come a heartbeat away.“So,” I said, clearing my throat, “how’s your side of imprisonment?”“Damp.”“Charming.”He gave me a look that said, 'If I had cof

 Mating Moon Revelation was a masterclass in denial. Or at least, my masterclass.If there had been awards for pretending nothing was brewing in the air — the hum under the floorboards, the heat in my palms, the slow burn of awareness every time Dylan so much as breathed — I would’ve accepted mine in a tasteful gown and thanked absolutely no one.We’d finished breakfast with only minor flirting and a few near-catastrophic stares. Now he was by the window, fixing a hinge that didn’t need fixing, while I attempted to reorganize my bookshelf by alphabetical trauma. Every so often, our eyes met. And every time, the Grove pulsed — just faintly, like it approved.“Stop that,” I muttered a

For a moment, there was only breath. Dylan’s hand still rested against my neck, steady and warm, and the world was too quiet. The Grove had gone still again — no hum, no pulse, only the faint trembling of the air that followed a storm. He exhaled shakily, forehead pressed to mine. “It’s done,” he whispered, voice low, almost unbelieving. I didn’t trust the quiet. Not here. He smiled — just barely — the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he dragged his thumb along my jawline, then tilted up my chin. And then, of course, the world answered.The door exploded. Magic tore it off its hinges, splintering wood and shattering light in one breath. The shattered wards screamed as the spell hit them — a clean, white-hot surge of High Council energy that had no patience for subtlety.Dylan moved before I could think. He turned his back to the door, arm slithering behind my back, and forced my head to the ceiling as his sharp canines broke through my skin. The merged light inside him flared