Page 53 of Witches and Wine
A tingling sensation coiled in my chest.
Were you a moon witch?
“No. I was a solar witch. But it makes all the sense in the world for us to have harmony in that regard. That, and you never really were a morning person.”
A sobbing laugh pushed from my throat, and a single tear rolled down my cheek.
“My time is up, Chelsea. You know what you need to do.” A phantom wind brushed my cheek and I pretended it was my mother kissing me there. “Tell your sister and father I love them for me, will you?”
Of course.
When I could no longer feel her presence, I hesitantly opened my eyes to find Dion still swinging his staff as if no time had passed. Reaching out with my magic, I attempted to siphon Dion’s emotions as my mother instructed. It started as trickles atfirst, threads of feelings but nothing concrete, nothing that stuck to help propel my power. I wondered if it would happen more naturally once Dion and I were bonded. For now, I surmised I’d need to improvise.
“Hey, Chels, maybe we should—” Dion started, turning around to see me launching at him with my arms spread wide.
I threw them around his neck, planting a kiss on his lips. He mumbled against my mouth, a smile following, and his free arm snaked around my waist. Dion’s mouth moved in time with mine, and his emotions flooded into me, fueling me—lust, worry, hope. My magic swirled and ebbed, enveloping me until, suddenly, it allclickedinto place.
The High Priestess sat on the ground, leaning against a tree not even three feet from us. She’d been watching us this entire time with no way of communicating. I peeled away from the kiss and fluttered my fingers, a white glow emanating from my skin now, my magic flowing and glittering until it settled over the Crone, revealing her.
“How did you—” Dion pointed from me to the Priestess. “Was it the kiss?”
“Partially,” I replied with a smile. “I’ll explain later.”
Cressida stood, dusting dirt and twigs from her robes. “Finally. I thought you’d never figure yourself out,” she said to me.
A white owl flew past us, resting on the Priestess’ shoulder and nuzzling her with gleeful coos.
“I apologize. I only just found out I’m a witch days ago and hadn’t yet gotten a grasp on my magic.”
Dion turned to look at me with an incredulous expression. “Are you saying youdohave a grasp now?”
“Later, Dion. I promise.” Offering a reassuring smile, I squeezed his hand again.
The Crone stroked her owl’s crest. “It is surprising you’re so new. It has been a while since I’ve seen a lunar witch blessed with the moon’s glow.” She nudged her chin at me.
Glancing at my hands, there was that same radiance from when I’d used my magic to locate her. I thought it was connected to the use of my power, but it remained. “Is this permanent?”
The Priestess grinned and looked to the night sky. “Only at night. It’s to announce to all other witches, warlocks, and sorcerers that you are a lunar witch with the moon’s direct blessing.”
Dion cleared his throat. “Where do I fit in with all of this?”
Cressida put a hand on her hip. “You figured out you were her mate far before any assistance from me. I think you know the answer to that, Greek god.”
Dion and I exchanged glances, and heat built between my thighs.
“At any rate, thank you for finding me. No telling how long I would’ve been under that Mother’s forsaken spell if you wouldn’t have come seeking my guidance.” The Crone scrunched her nose and spit on the ground, cursing Rumpelstiltskin under her breath.
“Are you still willing to give me advice, then?” I asked, folding my hands behind my back.
The Priestess scanned me from head to toe and gave a curt nod. “One, always keep your familiar with you. They’ll give you insight into the world around you and heighten your power. Two, find yourself a coven.” She shuffled between us, Dion stepping aside to keep her shoulder from colliding with his ribs. She pushed open the cottage door and stepped aside as Riley sprinted past her, the blade still in his mouth. He climbed up my body.
“That’s it? How do Ifinda coven?” Disappointment laced my words despite any effort to mask it. I nuzzled Riley’s fur, watching warily as the moon glinted from the knife.
Cressida cackled and didn’t stop, moving past the threshold of her home when she called out, “Oh, they’ll find you, dearie. They’ll findyou.” Without another word, she slipped inside and slammed the door shut.
“I dare say Stilts posing as that old broad was far more delightful than the real deal,” Dion grumbled, scratching his head with the pine cone tip on his staff. “Now that the Priestess is good to go, I think we should tell the sheriff about Rumpelstiltskin being permanently in town. He’s not going to stop monkeying around.”
Dion’s words became an echo in my skull. I was too transfixed on my glowing hands and how satiated I’d felt using my magic without fear or restriction. And she said Dion, my mate, my fated mate, was the key to becoming my full lunar witch self.
