Shadow's Reflection, page 16
part #1 of Stonebridge Witches - Book Two Series
June meandered through the throng of revellers, her eyes scanning the stalls adorned with twinkling lights and festive decorations. She paused briefly to admire a stall selling hand-crafted ornaments, the delicate designs seemingly imbued with their own inner light.
She looked up, searching for her next target, and that’s when she saw him.
“Lucas,” she heard herself say, surprised by her own voice as it cut through the chatter of the crowd.
He stood a few feet away, and had been wandering the market stalls aimlessly, his brow heavy with unspoken thoughts. His gaze met hers, his eyes clouded with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.
June’s heart skipped—not from clichéd nerves, but from the uncertainty of what he’d say.
“June,” Lucas muttered, his voice indifferent, a stark contrast to the cheerful bustle around them.
“Lucas, I—” She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “Thank you. For pulling me out of the lake. You saved my life.”
“Sure,” he replied, the word falling flat between them. “But…” He trailed off as if he was having second thoughts about starting something with her. But then he shook his head and scowled. “What I don’t get is all the secrecy, June. The running off, the weird occurrences. It’s like I don’t even know who you are.” He sighed. “Did I ever?”
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, feeling the weight of his frustration. “I really am. There’s so much going on, things that are…complicated.”
“Complicated doesn’t cut it,” Lucas retorted, his tone sharpening. “I was trying to help you, June. And you lied to me. Over and over again.”
“I didn’t lie,” she protested weakly, feeling the sting of his words. “I just… I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why?” he demanded, his eyes boring into hers, seeking answers she wasn’t able to share. “Is it because you don’t trust me? Or is it because you think I can’t handle it?”
June’s heart clenched at his words. She could see the hurt in his eyes. The confusion. The anger. It was all too much.
“It’s not that,” she began to explain, her voice a mere whisper against the loud laughter surrounding them. “Sometimes keeping you out is the only way to help.” She knew her words were cryptic, but the truth was a luxury she couldn’t afford to share. “Lucas, I really am grateful for what you did for me at the lake.”
“Fine.” Lucas’s jaw tightened, and she could see the decision settle over him like a winter frost. “Then maybe it’s better if we go back to being strangers. No complications.”
“Strangers,” June echoed, the word hollow in her mouth. She nodded slowly, resigned to his judgement. “If that’s what you want.”
“Maybe it’s for the best.”
As he turned and walked away, melding into the sea of people, June felt a curious blend of relief and sorrow. Relief that he might now be safe from the shadows that clung to her existence, and sorrow because in another life, she believed they could’ve been something more.
“Goodbye, Lucas,” she murmured, knowing he couldn’t hear her. The farewell was hers alone. A goodbye to a normal life.
June wrapped her coat tighter around herself, as if it could shield her from the cold finality, and looked around for Alistair. But he’d vanished into the crowd, probably the moment he saw her approach Lucas.
Sighing, she moved through the market, her eyes glossing over the vendors and the glistening decorations, the sombre cheer she’d felt earlier all but gone.
Ahead, she saw the stage for the pantomime—a splash of colour and movement against the winter backdrop, sheltered underneath an enormous open tent. Workers bustled around, hanging emerald curtains and adjusting spotlights, their breaths visible puffs in the crisp air. A painted backdrop depicted the iconic yellow brick road of Oz winding its way through an enchanted forest, promising adventure and a way home.
She lingered there, watching the excitement that buzzed through the actors and organisers as they prepared for their first curtain call. But it was these moments that reminded her why she fought to keep the darkness at bay.
“Looks like it’s going to be a great show,” Alistair’s voice came from behind her, warm and comforting.
June turned, offering him a small, genuine smile. “It does.”
“Let’s hope our little enchantments help make it even more magical.” He winked, a conspiratorial glint in his eye.
“You didn’t…? The pantomime?”
“It was Elaine’s idea,” he told her. “Just some subtle special effects to enhance the production quality.”
June’s smile broadened at the thought of Elaine’s meddling—always with the best intentions, but never without a hint of mischief. “I’m sure the audience will love it.”
“Come on,” Alistair nudged her gently, “the tree re-lighting is about to start.”
They made their way to the centre of the square, where families and friends huddled together beneath the towering Christmas tree, its branches heavy with snow and unlit decorations. Mayor Hayes stood at the base, microphone in hand, waiting for the cue to commence the ceremony.
As June settled into the crowd, her gaze drifted and locked with Mayor Hayes’. His glare was icy, but she met his disapproval with a serene composure, an internal chuckle rippling through her. She’d faced things far colder than bureaucracy and lived to tell the tale—the Mayor’s wounded ego was no match.
She gave him a small nod, acknowledging the silent battle between them, before he sharply turned away, his attention moving back to the awaiting townsfolk.
“That man is insufferable,” Alistair muttered.
June snorted, wondering if the moment he wasn’t reelected, his memories would be altered. “He’s a politician,” she said. “Most of them like to think they’re right.”
“Three,” the countdown began, the crowd joining in, “Two, One!”
With a flick of a switch, the tree lit up in a blaze of colourful lights that chased away the shadows with a sparkling glow. Ribbons of colour weaved between the branches, and the star atop the tree sparkled like crystal.
June felt the magic of the moment wash over her. It wasn’t just the luminescence of the bulbs or the excitement of the town—it was deeper than that. In the reflection of each tiny light, she saw fragments of magic that reminded her that the coven was always there, even if they couldn’t be seen.
Her thoughts wandered to her next lessons, the third of five schools of magic she was to master.
“You’re ready for more than just elemental studies, June,” Elaine had said on the shores of the frozen lake. “There’s power in your bloodline that we’ve barely skimmed the surface of.”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Alistair murmured beside her.
“Yeah,” June agreed, her voice tinged with newfound hope. “And it’s only the beginning.”
Chapter 20
Under the watchful gaze of a thousand stars, June stepped into the sacred circle of standing stones, her heart echoing the ancient rhythm of the monoliths. The night air, heavy with the scent of damp moss and anticipation, clung to her skin like a distant memory that was both hers and not. It was the echo of a thousand rituals past, present, and future.
She positioned herself at the centre of the circle, feeling the magic of countless centuries pressing down on her shoulders. Every rustle of wind through bare branches, every hushed breath from the coven, echoed with an unspoken pact made long ago.
Tonight was more than a Yule ritual; it was a dance with destiny amid the deep and mysterious forest. A forest that embodied both light and dark, the opposing forces of the balance they sought to protect.
The forest seemed to bow before the weight of the moment, its shadows stretching toward the standing stones. She could almost feel the whispers of the earth, an undercurrent of energy that beckoned for release.
“Steady your thoughts,” Elaine murmured beside her. “Your magic is a river. Let it flow.”
June nodded, closing her eyes to better see the unseen tapestry of power that lay draped across the world. With each breath, she drew in the crisp scent of oak, pine, and damp earth, letting it fill her lungs, cleanse her thoughts, and settle her spirit. The energy of the elements surrounded her, whispering. She extended her senses, reaching for the threads of magic that wove through all things, feeling them thrum against her fingertips.
“Trust the balance.” Elaine’s words were soft but firm. “Trust yourself.”
June exhaled, her breath mingling with the frigid air, as she opened herself to the currents of power that ebbed and flowed around her. The pulse of the earth matched her heartbeat, steady and sure.
As the Yule rituals commenced, the coven moved in unison, their chants intertwining with the night. June, beside Elaine, found her place within the pattern, her soul ignited by the connection to something beyond herself—a timeless lineage and an eternal dance with the elements.
Then June’s moment arrived. She stepped forward, her hands raised toward the canopy of stars above. The golden essence of her magic, honed through countless hours of practice and study under Alistair and Elaine’s instruction, shimmered around her.
June traced sigils of protection and light in the air, each one glimmering before fading into the unseen fabric of the wards woven by the other witches. Her movements were smooth, each thread of her individual spell attaching seamlessly into the collective enchantment of the coven.
The assembled witches fixed their gaze upon her. They watched as the strands of June’s power intertwined with the ritual, casting a luminous glow that bathed the clearing in a dreamlike glow. The standing stones caught the brilliance, their surfaces reflecting shadows and radiance.
As she whispered the last word of her incantation, the light surged, then settled, leaving a warm afterglow that hummed with the promise of Yule’s renewal.
Elaine approached, her eyes gleaming with pride under the icy moonlight. “June, you’ve outdone yourself,” she said. “Your dedication to the craft, your skill—it’s evident in every thread of magic you weave.”
June’s cheeks heated, but she accepted the compliment with a nod. “Thanks. I couldn’t have figured it out without you.”
Elaine tilted her head, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps,” she mused. “But the magic is yours, June. You’ve just learned how to use it.”
The surrounding forest seemed to acknowledge the renewed wards, the trees whispering their approval in a rustle of leaves, the earth vibrating with gratitude beneath their feet. In the distance, an owl hooted and unseen critters scurried in the snow, searching for food.
With the close of the rituals, the coven began to disperse, chattering happily amongst themselves, each witch carrying with them the success of the night and the bright promise of the year to come.
June’s heart thrummed with an unfamiliar rhythm as her magic flowed freely, and calmly, for the first time. The ritual had woven her closer to her gift, and the belonging she’d find one day within the coven as a full member.
“Let’s join the others,” Elaine suggested, her bracelets clinking softly as she gestured toward the group. “Everyone brought a bottle of something to celebrate. And Fran brought cupcakes!”
Walking side by side, June and Elaine moved toward the flickering bonfire where the coven had gathered. Laughter bubbled around the flames, as bright as the fire itself. Someone handed June a paper cup filled with something potent and she sniffed it—whisky.
“Here’s to June!” someone called out, raising a cup in her direction. “The elemental unraveller!” A chorus of cheers followed, and June couldn’t help but smile, her nerves giving way to warmth.
She took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill her lungs as she looked at the faces illuminated by the firelight—faces of those who had seen her at her weakest and now celebrated her strength.
Despite the weight of her past, here in this moment, surrounded by the laughter of the coven, June felt a surge of hope. She was part of something ancient, something greater than herself—a legacy of witches who had guarded Stonebridge for centuries.
“May the future be kinder than the past,” Elaine whispered beside her, her gaze lost in the dance of the flames.
“And may we be kinder to others…and ourselves,” June murmured, feeling the truth of the witch’s words resonate within her. Shadows of memory might linger at the edges of her thoughts, but tonight, they weren’t going to touch her.
Elaine turned to her, recognition sparking in her eyes. “That’s wisdom, June,” she said. “It’s the first rule of magic and life.”
June smiled at Elaine, who clasped her hand warmly.
Elaine raised her cup. “Here’s to the next adventure.”
June felt a twinge of excitement and nodded, raising her cup to tap against the older witch’s. “To the next adventure,” she echoed, her voice filled with determination. “And hopefully it doesn’t involve getting sucked into elemental goop again.” She shivered. “Because that was kind of gross.”
Alistair watched the bonfire from the edge of the grove, his eyes tracing the flickering light that danced across June’s face. She was the spitting image of her mother, and the more magic she accepted into herself only seemed to amplify it.
A bittersweet feeling gripped his heart. He remembered June as a child, all twinkling eyes and eager questions, a brightness that had been dimmed by tragedy. Now he saw the same curious spark reigniting in her gaze.
His fingers twitched, the urge to reach out and perhaps offer some semblance of comfort lingering in his weathered hands. But he held himself back, allowing June her moment of joy, her moment of triumph. He turned his gaze toward the stars, momentarily losing himself in the constellations that winked down on them. There would be a bitter frost come morning…
Beside him, Mirabel stood silent, her silver hair catching stray glimmers from the distant fire.
“June is becoming formidable,” she said at length, breaking the quiet between them.
“She is her mother’s daughter.” He could feel the earth beneath his feet, rich with the residue of spells cast and the timeless rhythm of Yule rituals.
“Indeed,” Mirabel replied. “But with strength comes curiosity—a double-edged sword.”
Alistair nodded as he adjusted his glasses, which had begun to slip down the bridge of his nose. The cold air caused them to fog slightly, obscuring his vision. “She wants answers about her parents, though she hasn’t yet asked outright. It’s natural, but…”
“Dangerous,” Mirabel finished for him. “The truth about her lineage is a darkness too profound for a fledgling, even one of her age. It must be kept secret.”
“Even from her?” Alistair asked, knowing the answer, but needing to hear it spoken aloud.
“Especially from her. The knowledge would consume her, just as it did them.”
Alistair fell silent, a long sigh escaping his lips. He watched as the bonfire’s embers rose toward the heavens, scattering like supernatural fireflies against the inky night. “She has a right to know about them, about the sacrifice they made.”
“Duty demands that we protect her,” Mirabel countered. “Darkness has its own pull, and curiosity might just be the doorway it seeks.”
Alistair looked away, concealing his conflict in the play of shadows on his face. Mirabel, too, fell silent. The night stretched on, punctuated by the distant laughter and faint strains of singing from their coven, oblivious to the heavy conversation that passed between their leaders.
“Then we stand united in this,” Alistair declared, though the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. “We protect her from the past, even if it means keeping that chapter of history closed.”
Mirabel’s eyes softened, but her resolve didn’t waver. “For her sake, for the coven’s, for Stonebridge itself,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of an unbreakable oath.
The shadows stirred, restless with secrets and silent screams. Alistair turned his gaze back to the celebration, watching over June like a father, all the while feeling the pull of a future clouded with uncertainty.
The flickering light of the distant bonfire caught in Mirabel’s silver hair, casting her in an otherworldly glow. For a fleeting second, it was as though the years had peeled back, revealing not just the matriarch but the young visionary that once stood beside Alistair when they were nothing more but fledglings themselves.
“Whatever comes,” she murmured, “we face it for her, and for all our sakes. What came to pass then will never happen again.”
Alistair nodded, the lines on his face deepening with the gravity of their pact. “Then let us hope the fates are kind, and our efforts suffice to keep the darkness at bay.”
Their eyes met and an unspoken memory passed between them, a mutual understanding that went beyond words.
“Come,” Alistair said. “Let’s get a drink.”
Mirabel gave a wry smile, the flicker of a time long past briefly visible in her eyes. “A drink it is.” She offered her arm to Alistair, who accepted it gratefully.
And so they left their secrets in the shadows, moving toward the light of the Yule fire…and whatever may come.
Continue the story in
SHADOW’S EMBRACE
Stonebridge Witches - Book Three
* * *
As spring blossoms in Stonebridge, and the memory of the harsh winter fades, June finds herself embarking on a new chapter of her magical journey.
Under the guidance of her new teacher Lydia, she delves into the intricate world of herbalism and potions, seeking solace amidst the turmoil of loss. With both Lucas and Harriet’s friendship gone, June grapples with the void left in their absence, finding refuge in her studies as she navigates the complexities of life as a witch.
Yet, as she immerses herself in her magical education, trouble looms on the horizon, threatening to disrupt the fragile peace she's fought so hard to find…and maintain.
In "Shadow's Embrace," June must confront new challenges and uncover the mysteries that lie ahead, lest darkness once again descend upon her beloved Stonebridge.
She looked up, searching for her next target, and that’s when she saw him.
“Lucas,” she heard herself say, surprised by her own voice as it cut through the chatter of the crowd.
He stood a few feet away, and had been wandering the market stalls aimlessly, his brow heavy with unspoken thoughts. His gaze met hers, his eyes clouded with an emotion she couldn’t quite decipher.
June’s heart skipped—not from clichéd nerves, but from the uncertainty of what he’d say.
“June,” Lucas muttered, his voice indifferent, a stark contrast to the cheerful bustle around them.
“Lucas, I—” She hesitated, the words catching in her throat. “Thank you. For pulling me out of the lake. You saved my life.”
“Sure,” he replied, the word falling flat between them. “But…” He trailed off as if he was having second thoughts about starting something with her. But then he shook his head and scowled. “What I don’t get is all the secrecy, June. The running off, the weird occurrences. It’s like I don’t even know who you are.” He sighed. “Did I ever?”
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely, feeling the weight of his frustration. “I really am. There’s so much going on, things that are…complicated.”
“Complicated doesn’t cut it,” Lucas retorted, his tone sharpening. “I was trying to help you, June. And you lied to me. Over and over again.”
“I didn’t lie,” she protested weakly, feeling the sting of his words. “I just… I couldn’t tell you.”
“Why?” he demanded, his eyes boring into hers, seeking answers she wasn’t able to share. “Is it because you don’t trust me? Or is it because you think I can’t handle it?”
June’s heart clenched at his words. She could see the hurt in his eyes. The confusion. The anger. It was all too much.
“It’s not that,” she began to explain, her voice a mere whisper against the loud laughter surrounding them. “Sometimes keeping you out is the only way to help.” She knew her words were cryptic, but the truth was a luxury she couldn’t afford to share. “Lucas, I really am grateful for what you did for me at the lake.”
“Fine.” Lucas’s jaw tightened, and she could see the decision settle over him like a winter frost. “Then maybe it’s better if we go back to being strangers. No complications.”
“Strangers,” June echoed, the word hollow in her mouth. She nodded slowly, resigned to his judgement. “If that’s what you want.”
“Maybe it’s for the best.”
As he turned and walked away, melding into the sea of people, June felt a curious blend of relief and sorrow. Relief that he might now be safe from the shadows that clung to her existence, and sorrow because in another life, she believed they could’ve been something more.
“Goodbye, Lucas,” she murmured, knowing he couldn’t hear her. The farewell was hers alone. A goodbye to a normal life.
June wrapped her coat tighter around herself, as if it could shield her from the cold finality, and looked around for Alistair. But he’d vanished into the crowd, probably the moment he saw her approach Lucas.
Sighing, she moved through the market, her eyes glossing over the vendors and the glistening decorations, the sombre cheer she’d felt earlier all but gone.
Ahead, she saw the stage for the pantomime—a splash of colour and movement against the winter backdrop, sheltered underneath an enormous open tent. Workers bustled around, hanging emerald curtains and adjusting spotlights, their breaths visible puffs in the crisp air. A painted backdrop depicted the iconic yellow brick road of Oz winding its way through an enchanted forest, promising adventure and a way home.
She lingered there, watching the excitement that buzzed through the actors and organisers as they prepared for their first curtain call. But it was these moments that reminded her why she fought to keep the darkness at bay.
“Looks like it’s going to be a great show,” Alistair’s voice came from behind her, warm and comforting.
June turned, offering him a small, genuine smile. “It does.”
“Let’s hope our little enchantments help make it even more magical.” He winked, a conspiratorial glint in his eye.
“You didn’t…? The pantomime?”
“It was Elaine’s idea,” he told her. “Just some subtle special effects to enhance the production quality.”
June’s smile broadened at the thought of Elaine’s meddling—always with the best intentions, but never without a hint of mischief. “I’m sure the audience will love it.”
“Come on,” Alistair nudged her gently, “the tree re-lighting is about to start.”
They made their way to the centre of the square, where families and friends huddled together beneath the towering Christmas tree, its branches heavy with snow and unlit decorations. Mayor Hayes stood at the base, microphone in hand, waiting for the cue to commence the ceremony.
As June settled into the crowd, her gaze drifted and locked with Mayor Hayes’. His glare was icy, but she met his disapproval with a serene composure, an internal chuckle rippling through her. She’d faced things far colder than bureaucracy and lived to tell the tale—the Mayor’s wounded ego was no match.
She gave him a small nod, acknowledging the silent battle between them, before he sharply turned away, his attention moving back to the awaiting townsfolk.
“That man is insufferable,” Alistair muttered.
June snorted, wondering if the moment he wasn’t reelected, his memories would be altered. “He’s a politician,” she said. “Most of them like to think they’re right.”
“Three,” the countdown began, the crowd joining in, “Two, One!”
With a flick of a switch, the tree lit up in a blaze of colourful lights that chased away the shadows with a sparkling glow. Ribbons of colour weaved between the branches, and the star atop the tree sparkled like crystal.
June felt the magic of the moment wash over her. It wasn’t just the luminescence of the bulbs or the excitement of the town—it was deeper than that. In the reflection of each tiny light, she saw fragments of magic that reminded her that the coven was always there, even if they couldn’t be seen.
Her thoughts wandered to her next lessons, the third of five schools of magic she was to master.
“You’re ready for more than just elemental studies, June,” Elaine had said on the shores of the frozen lake. “There’s power in your bloodline that we’ve barely skimmed the surface of.”
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Alistair murmured beside her.
“Yeah,” June agreed, her voice tinged with newfound hope. “And it’s only the beginning.”
Chapter 20
Under the watchful gaze of a thousand stars, June stepped into the sacred circle of standing stones, her heart echoing the ancient rhythm of the monoliths. The night air, heavy with the scent of damp moss and anticipation, clung to her skin like a distant memory that was both hers and not. It was the echo of a thousand rituals past, present, and future.
She positioned herself at the centre of the circle, feeling the magic of countless centuries pressing down on her shoulders. Every rustle of wind through bare branches, every hushed breath from the coven, echoed with an unspoken pact made long ago.
Tonight was more than a Yule ritual; it was a dance with destiny amid the deep and mysterious forest. A forest that embodied both light and dark, the opposing forces of the balance they sought to protect.
The forest seemed to bow before the weight of the moment, its shadows stretching toward the standing stones. She could almost feel the whispers of the earth, an undercurrent of energy that beckoned for release.
“Steady your thoughts,” Elaine murmured beside her. “Your magic is a river. Let it flow.”
June nodded, closing her eyes to better see the unseen tapestry of power that lay draped across the world. With each breath, she drew in the crisp scent of oak, pine, and damp earth, letting it fill her lungs, cleanse her thoughts, and settle her spirit. The energy of the elements surrounded her, whispering. She extended her senses, reaching for the threads of magic that wove through all things, feeling them thrum against her fingertips.
“Trust the balance.” Elaine’s words were soft but firm. “Trust yourself.”
June exhaled, her breath mingling with the frigid air, as she opened herself to the currents of power that ebbed and flowed around her. The pulse of the earth matched her heartbeat, steady and sure.
As the Yule rituals commenced, the coven moved in unison, their chants intertwining with the night. June, beside Elaine, found her place within the pattern, her soul ignited by the connection to something beyond herself—a timeless lineage and an eternal dance with the elements.
Then June’s moment arrived. She stepped forward, her hands raised toward the canopy of stars above. The golden essence of her magic, honed through countless hours of practice and study under Alistair and Elaine’s instruction, shimmered around her.
June traced sigils of protection and light in the air, each one glimmering before fading into the unseen fabric of the wards woven by the other witches. Her movements were smooth, each thread of her individual spell attaching seamlessly into the collective enchantment of the coven.
The assembled witches fixed their gaze upon her. They watched as the strands of June’s power intertwined with the ritual, casting a luminous glow that bathed the clearing in a dreamlike glow. The standing stones caught the brilliance, their surfaces reflecting shadows and radiance.
As she whispered the last word of her incantation, the light surged, then settled, leaving a warm afterglow that hummed with the promise of Yule’s renewal.
Elaine approached, her eyes gleaming with pride under the icy moonlight. “June, you’ve outdone yourself,” she said. “Your dedication to the craft, your skill—it’s evident in every thread of magic you weave.”
June’s cheeks heated, but she accepted the compliment with a nod. “Thanks. I couldn’t have figured it out without you.”
Elaine tilted her head, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Perhaps,” she mused. “But the magic is yours, June. You’ve just learned how to use it.”
The surrounding forest seemed to acknowledge the renewed wards, the trees whispering their approval in a rustle of leaves, the earth vibrating with gratitude beneath their feet. In the distance, an owl hooted and unseen critters scurried in the snow, searching for food.
With the close of the rituals, the coven began to disperse, chattering happily amongst themselves, each witch carrying with them the success of the night and the bright promise of the year to come.
June’s heart thrummed with an unfamiliar rhythm as her magic flowed freely, and calmly, for the first time. The ritual had woven her closer to her gift, and the belonging she’d find one day within the coven as a full member.
“Let’s join the others,” Elaine suggested, her bracelets clinking softly as she gestured toward the group. “Everyone brought a bottle of something to celebrate. And Fran brought cupcakes!”
Walking side by side, June and Elaine moved toward the flickering bonfire where the coven had gathered. Laughter bubbled around the flames, as bright as the fire itself. Someone handed June a paper cup filled with something potent and she sniffed it—whisky.
“Here’s to June!” someone called out, raising a cup in her direction. “The elemental unraveller!” A chorus of cheers followed, and June couldn’t help but smile, her nerves giving way to warmth.
She took a deep breath, letting the cool air fill her lungs as she looked at the faces illuminated by the firelight—faces of those who had seen her at her weakest and now celebrated her strength.
Despite the weight of her past, here in this moment, surrounded by the laughter of the coven, June felt a surge of hope. She was part of something ancient, something greater than herself—a legacy of witches who had guarded Stonebridge for centuries.
“May the future be kinder than the past,” Elaine whispered beside her, her gaze lost in the dance of the flames.
“And may we be kinder to others…and ourselves,” June murmured, feeling the truth of the witch’s words resonate within her. Shadows of memory might linger at the edges of her thoughts, but tonight, they weren’t going to touch her.
Elaine turned to her, recognition sparking in her eyes. “That’s wisdom, June,” she said. “It’s the first rule of magic and life.”
June smiled at Elaine, who clasped her hand warmly.
Elaine raised her cup. “Here’s to the next adventure.”
June felt a twinge of excitement and nodded, raising her cup to tap against the older witch’s. “To the next adventure,” she echoed, her voice filled with determination. “And hopefully it doesn’t involve getting sucked into elemental goop again.” She shivered. “Because that was kind of gross.”
Alistair watched the bonfire from the edge of the grove, his eyes tracing the flickering light that danced across June’s face. She was the spitting image of her mother, and the more magic she accepted into herself only seemed to amplify it.
A bittersweet feeling gripped his heart. He remembered June as a child, all twinkling eyes and eager questions, a brightness that had been dimmed by tragedy. Now he saw the same curious spark reigniting in her gaze.
His fingers twitched, the urge to reach out and perhaps offer some semblance of comfort lingering in his weathered hands. But he held himself back, allowing June her moment of joy, her moment of triumph. He turned his gaze toward the stars, momentarily losing himself in the constellations that winked down on them. There would be a bitter frost come morning…
Beside him, Mirabel stood silent, her silver hair catching stray glimmers from the distant fire.
“June is becoming formidable,” she said at length, breaking the quiet between them.
“She is her mother’s daughter.” He could feel the earth beneath his feet, rich with the residue of spells cast and the timeless rhythm of Yule rituals.
“Indeed,” Mirabel replied. “But with strength comes curiosity—a double-edged sword.”
Alistair nodded as he adjusted his glasses, which had begun to slip down the bridge of his nose. The cold air caused them to fog slightly, obscuring his vision. “She wants answers about her parents, though she hasn’t yet asked outright. It’s natural, but…”
“Dangerous,” Mirabel finished for him. “The truth about her lineage is a darkness too profound for a fledgling, even one of her age. It must be kept secret.”
“Even from her?” Alistair asked, knowing the answer, but needing to hear it spoken aloud.
“Especially from her. The knowledge would consume her, just as it did them.”
Alistair fell silent, a long sigh escaping his lips. He watched as the bonfire’s embers rose toward the heavens, scattering like supernatural fireflies against the inky night. “She has a right to know about them, about the sacrifice they made.”
“Duty demands that we protect her,” Mirabel countered. “Darkness has its own pull, and curiosity might just be the doorway it seeks.”
Alistair looked away, concealing his conflict in the play of shadows on his face. Mirabel, too, fell silent. The night stretched on, punctuated by the distant laughter and faint strains of singing from their coven, oblivious to the heavy conversation that passed between their leaders.
“Then we stand united in this,” Alistair declared, though the words left a bitter taste in his mouth. “We protect her from the past, even if it means keeping that chapter of history closed.”
Mirabel’s eyes softened, but her resolve didn’t waver. “For her sake, for the coven’s, for Stonebridge itself,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of an unbreakable oath.
The shadows stirred, restless with secrets and silent screams. Alistair turned his gaze back to the celebration, watching over June like a father, all the while feeling the pull of a future clouded with uncertainty.
The flickering light of the distant bonfire caught in Mirabel’s silver hair, casting her in an otherworldly glow. For a fleeting second, it was as though the years had peeled back, revealing not just the matriarch but the young visionary that once stood beside Alistair when they were nothing more but fledglings themselves.
“Whatever comes,” she murmured, “we face it for her, and for all our sakes. What came to pass then will never happen again.”
Alistair nodded, the lines on his face deepening with the gravity of their pact. “Then let us hope the fates are kind, and our efforts suffice to keep the darkness at bay.”
Their eyes met and an unspoken memory passed between them, a mutual understanding that went beyond words.
“Come,” Alistair said. “Let’s get a drink.”
Mirabel gave a wry smile, the flicker of a time long past briefly visible in her eyes. “A drink it is.” She offered her arm to Alistair, who accepted it gratefully.
And so they left their secrets in the shadows, moving toward the light of the Yule fire…and whatever may come.
Continue the story in
SHADOW’S EMBRACE
Stonebridge Witches - Book Three
* * *
As spring blossoms in Stonebridge, and the memory of the harsh winter fades, June finds herself embarking on a new chapter of her magical journey.
Under the guidance of her new teacher Lydia, she delves into the intricate world of herbalism and potions, seeking solace amidst the turmoil of loss. With both Lucas and Harriet’s friendship gone, June grapples with the void left in their absence, finding refuge in her studies as she navigates the complexities of life as a witch.
Yet, as she immerses herself in her magical education, trouble looms on the horizon, threatening to disrupt the fragile peace she's fought so hard to find…and maintain.
In "Shadow's Embrace," June must confront new challenges and uncover the mysteries that lie ahead, lest darkness once again descend upon her beloved Stonebridge.
