Page 98 of Spell Ya Later

No more lies.

“Did Laura tell you what you are to me?”

“I don’t think so? What are you talking about?”

Now or never. I steel myself, pulling myself out of his chest to meet his gaze. “The Pruitt women are blessed by an ancestorfrom Salem. She gave us the power to recognize our soulmates. And you are mine.”

“Soulmates? Like in romance novels?”

He wasn’t kidding when he said he read romance. “I guess. It’s the buzz. The electric shock I used to give you when we first met? That’s the sign I’ve found my person.”

“I asked if you shuffled your feet on the ground and zapped me,” he chuckles. “Did you know then?”

“No, I had no idea until we had been dating for a little bit. I just thought it was a weird witchy thing, which it kind of was, but...” I trail off with a shrug of my shoulders.

“Hmm.” His mouth quirks in a little half smile. “I’m your soulmate, huh?”

“Yep. I’m never going to love anyone else for the rest of my life.” I smile to soften the seriousness behind those words. Because it’s true. Noah Rogers is it for me.

He’s quiet for a moment, thumb trailing along my cheek before it slips to trace my bottom lip. “I can think of no better fate.”

He presses the gentlest kiss to my lips, a sweet caress. My hand lifts to his stubbly cheek as we press against each other. His hands hold my hips just a little too tight, as if to reassure him that yes, I’m here. I’m real.

I nip his lower lip and the kiss deepens. I inhale his scent and feel his body underneath my fingertips and lose myself in the love we share.

With panting breaths, we part.

“I love you, Noah. I will love you until this world stops spinning and beyond. You are mine, and I am yours.”

“I love you, Hazel. You are mine, and I am yours.”

“Sexiest octopus I know.”

He blinks. “Wait. What?”

This is going to be fun.

Chapter 38

Epilogue

LAURA

Afew weeks earlier . . .

The fire whispers to me.

It has for as long I can remember, but I’ve never been able to make out what it is saying. Only soft murmurs and unintelligible sounds. But I knew it was communicating with me. Somewhere inside, I knew.

And I got damn good at ignoring it.

Unit now.

Until Hazel—my own fucking sister—suggested we have a funeral for our mother and the fire said no.

The candles sitting on the coffee table flicker and snap and I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.

“No.”