All Chapters of Born of Moon and Magic: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

Armida's POV I lost track of how many times I refolded the same shirt. Cornelia had cleared me for light activity two days after the attack — no strenuous work, no long walks, and absolutely no arguing about it, in her exact words. What I could do, apparently, was fuss over which room my parents would stay in, whether Florence's cooking would sit well with Cleo after months of her own pack's meals, and let myself get a little dizzy thinking about seeing Leo and Cleo again after so long. Lilith found me mid-fold on the third day, arms full of towels she didn't need to be carrying, and took it from me without asking. "You've refolded that shirt four times," she said. "I've been counting." "I want everything to look right." "It's your parents, not a pack inspection." She set the towels down and studied me with the patience she reserved for moments I clearly wasn't going to admit what I actually meant. "This isn't about the towels or shirts." I sat on the edge of the bed, the

Armida's POVFlorence had outdone herself.The table was set with more food than six people could reasonably eat — the plainer soup Demetrius had asked for, yes, but also roasted vegetables, a spread of bread, something with rosemary that made the whole kitchen smell like it belonged in a different, more expensive kind of restaurant — and my mother's eyebrows went up the second she saw it."This is lunch?""Florence doesn't really do small," I said."I like her already."We settled around the table with an ease that surprised me — Cleo wedged herself between me and Leo like she used to at every family dinner growing up, my father at one end assessing the room the way he assessed everything, quietly, and Demetrius at the other, close enough to me that his knee brushed mine once under the table and stayed there.Lilith joined partway through, waved off Demetrius's offer to make introductions with a breezy "I can do this myself," and dropped into the empty chair beside my mother like the

Armida's POVCleo did not, as promised, accept "no" as an option.Cleo had us all loaded into two vehicles by nine the next morning — my mother delighted, my father resigned, Leo still nursing his coffee — insisting she wasn't about to come this far without seeing at least one non-pack-owned storefront before she left.That keeps the same beat (Cleo's pushy energy, the family reactions listed in passing) but makes clear from the start who's driving the scene and what she actually wants."There's an actual town twenty minutes out," Lilith explained, climbing in beside me, one hand resting on the curve she still wasn't quite used to yet. "Small, mixed — some pack families, some humans who've lived alongside us long enough not to ask questions. Jackson and I go for the bakery.""You're coming?""I'm pregnant, not dying. And someone needs to make sure Cleo doesn't buy out the entire candle shop again.""Again implies there was a first time.""It was absolutely the first time."Demetrius d

Armida's POVI spent the morning sitting on the end of my mother's bed while she packed, handing her folded shirts she didn't need handed to her, mostly because it gave my hands something to do besides feel the minutes slipping."You'll call," she said. Not a question."Every week. Demetrius already told Alexander to make sure the line works out here — apparently that's not a given, with the wards.""Good." She zipped the last bag closed, then sat beside me instead of standing, the way she used to when I was small and upset about something she couldn't fix. "I like him, you know. I wasn't sure I would.""Because of what he is?""Because of what he did to you, at first. Before I understood the rest of it." She took my hand, turned it over like she was checking it for damage. "But I've watched him all week. He doesn't perform for us. He's not trying to convince me of anything." She looked up. "He's just trying to be someone you'd be proud to have chosen. That's different."I didn't trus

Armida's POVI didn't plan on drinking that night. It just sort of happened, glass by glass, until I'd lost count somewhere after the fourth.The wine had been sitting in the pantry since my parents' visit — Cleo, if I remembered right, had shown up with three bottles "for the table" and then spent the whole week too busy crying and shopping to actually open any of them. Nobody had touched it since. I told myself that made it fair game.The first glass was for the rogues. The second was for the way Demetrius's face had gone careful-blank when Jackson said the word, like he was deciding in real time how much of it I was allowed to carry. By the third, I wasn't really keeping track of what each glass was for anymore, just that the couch had gotten softer and the world had gone a little warm and loose at the edges, and that felt like an improvement.I was still there, half-curled into the cushions with the bottle dangerously close to empty, when Demetrius came down from wherever he'd dis