27: And it All Comes Crashing Down

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I wake up in my bed, the night before feeling like a distant memory. The beach, the cottage and Calvin are gone, but I swear I can still feel the residual warmth of being wrapped in his arms.

I get up to get ready for the day and catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Once again, there are faint marks on my neck that look like hickeys from Calvin. Weirdly, I do not physically feel like I had sex last night but I did wake up very aroused. I guess it's not real, even if I could feel everything.

I didn't go into last night with the intention of having sex with Calvin, but I don't regret anything that we did. The chemistry between us has always been undeniable and this was a whole new level.


After washing up, I join Sienne in the living room. She takes one look at me and takes a break from scrolling on her phone.

"Are those more hickeys?" She teases.

I nervously tug at the collar of my crew neck, trying to pull it up to cover a little more skin. If I end up going out later, I'll definitely need makeup to hide these marks

"Yes" I admit shyly, my cheeks warming. "We hooked up last night."

"Oh my god, you had dream sex?!" Sienne's eyes widen as her jaw drops in pure shock. "Wellll, how was it?"

"It was... incredible." I feel my face flush even redder as I speak, images of last night flooding back. I can still feel the way Calvin pulled me into his arms, every touch as real as anything in this world. "You feel everything, just like you would in real life."

Sienne leans in, her curiosity piqued. "You must really like this guy. I can't even remember the last time you hooked up with someone. Do you feel like you trust him more now?"

Her question catches me off guard, and I hesitate, unsure of how to answer. Part of me does trust him more. Last night, he'd confessed that the last lie he told me was about burning down Madame Ziad's shop. Yet there's still this lingering doubt, a whisper in the back of my mind telling me he's hiding something. But I want so badly to bury that thought and just let myself fall for him. Everything about last night felt so right, so perfect.

"I feel a lot better about him than I did before," I tell her, trying to sound convincing. "Given everything that's happened, trust is hard." But Sienne gives me a skeptical look, one that says she's not fully buying it.

"I just want you to be careful, Ellie," she says, her voice softening with concern. "I know it's all very... intense, but you're still dealing with a wizard here."

"Warlock." I correct her.

"Same thing! A magical being!" She shakes her head. "I'm not saying don't enjoy yourself, just don't let your guard down until you've figured this whole wedding thing out. Are you really going to marry him?" she asks, a hint of doubt creeping into her tone.

"I-" I start, but a loud knock cuts me off.

The knock grows louder, more insistent, as I make my way to the door. I peer through the peephole and see a small, older woman draped in a dark hood. She raises her fist to knock again, and for a moment, her face becomes visible. It's Madame Ziad.


I quickly open the door. "Madame Ziad, what are you doing here?" I ask, surprised.

"I can't stay for long, dear.. Take off the necklace, I don't want him to hear this," she says in a low, urgent tone.

Without hesitation, I slip off the necklace and leave it in my room. Back in the kitchen, I pour her a cup of coffee, and Sienne and I sit with her at the dining table. Madame Ziad's hands are trembling slightly, but after a sip of coffee, she seems to relax.

"Did you come all the way here from Plato Beach? What's going on?" I ask, worry creeping into my voice.

Madame Ziad sets her coffee down, reaches into her cloak, and pulls out a piece of paper folded into neat quarters. Her gaze softens, and she lets out a deep sigh. "These past few days, I've had an unshakable feeling that you were in need of something. I keep having visions of you, but they're hazy, almost like dreams. Every time, it's the same: I see you running through a maze, lost, unable to escape. Something chases you, though I can never see what it is."

A chill runs down my spine. "I haven't been in a maze. Do you think these are visions of the future?" I ask, anxious.

"No, not exactly. They don't feel real, more like a warning of some kind. But Calvin... he's in them too. Each time, I see him brewing a potion and drinking it. Does that mean anything to you?""

"Calvin is working on a potion to lift a curse that another warlock placed on him. That's how this all began. He needed a tear of a spouse from his birth realm to complete it."

Madame Ziad's eyes widen as if pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle are finally falling into place.

"After my last vision, I wrote down every ingredient I saw him using. The recipe is for something called Vinculum's Cure. One of the ingredients was indeed a tear of a spouse. Does that sound familiar?"

My mind races as I try to recall the potion Calvin showed me. "Is that what's on this paper?" I ask, picking up the folded note she placed on the table.

"Yes, I wrote down the ingredients. Do any of them ring a bell?"

I unfold the paper and scan the list. A few of the ingredients look familiar, and there it is-tear of a spouse, listed as the sixth item. I read down to the final ingredient, and my heart drops, a sharp gasp escaping me. Calvin had crossed it out, but it's unmistakable: the last ingredient is a hair of an heir.

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