Page 77 of Alpha Charmed

“How does she know we’re here?”

“She knows everything. It’s unsettling.” I swing my legs out of bed, reaching for discarded clothing. “We should probably answer before she invites herself in.”

“She would do that.”

“Without hesitation. She did it to Torin and Sakura three times during their first week. Sakura’s weather nearly caused a flood.”

We dress quickly—Anouk’s elegant clothing from yesterday slightly wrinkled, my own practical attire assembled in seconds. By the time we reach the front door, Grandmother Peach is already settling herself at my kitchen table, a covered dish in front of her and a stack of ancient-looking documents beside it.

“Congratulations on your claiming,” she says without preamble. “I brought cobbler. And information.”

“In that order of importance?” Anouk takes a seat across from her, and I settle beside my mate, close enough that our shoulders brush.

“Cobbler is always important. Information is merely urgent.” Peach uncovers the dish, releasing the scent of fresh peaches and brown sugar. “Eat first. Then we talk about the fate of magical society.”

“That escalated quickly.”

“It’s been escalating for centuries. You’re just now catching up.”

“How long have you been the Guardian?” Anouk asks between bites. “Of the ritual site, I mean.”

“Since before the Registry was built on top of it. Since before most of the current magical families existed.” Peach’s smile is enigmatic. “I was there when the Severing happened, dear. I’ve been waiting—well, that’s not quite accurate. I’ve been preparing ever since for someone to undo it.”

I set down my fork. “You were there.”

“I was young. Foolish. I believed the people who said the pairings were dangerous, that witch-shifter claimings created imbalance.” Her expression shifts—regret, old and deep. “I helped perform the original ritual. And I’ve spent centuries trying to atone.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Anouk reaches for my hand beneath the table, and I grip her fingers, grateful for the anchor.

“You helped perform it.” Anouk’s voice is careful. “You were one of the thirteen.”

“I was the youngest. Barely more than a child, convinced by elders who seemed so certain.” Peach stares at the cobbler, but I don’t think she sees it. “When the ritual completed, when I felt what we’d done—the severing of ties, the breaking of paths that should have led so many to happiness—I knew immediately we’d made a terrible mistake.”

“But you couldn’t undo it.”

“Not alone. The magic required what it required. Multiple pairs, working in concert, at the original site.” She looks up, meeting our eyes. “The other twelve died, over the centuries. Some of guilt. Some of age. A few at the hands of the very Preservers they helped create. I alone survived, bound to the site I helped corrupt.”

“That’s a long time to carry guilt.”

“That’s a long time to plan redemption.” Her smile is sad but genuine. “You can’t imagine how it felt, watching the first pairings form in Mistvale. Leire and her tiger. Sakura and her bear. Seeing the magic struggle back to life after centuries of suppression.”

“And now us.”

“And now you. Three pairs. The beginning of what I’ve been preparing for.” She pushes the documents toward us. “The Severing is cracking. Each new claiming weakens it further.”

“But to break it completely…” Anouk trails off.

“We need to undo the original ritual. At the original site.” Peach taps the documents. “Beneath the Registry. Where I’ve been standing guard.”

I flip through the papers. Ancient diagrams. Ritual specifications. Notes in languages I don’t recognize and some I do.

“The dragon mentioned thirteen pairs to undo the ritual,” I say. “Do we have to wait for them to form?”

She meets my gaze. “As close to that number as we can find. The magic isn’t precise. It responds to intent, to commitment, to the strength of the claim. Three pairs might be enough to crack it further. Seven might break it open. Thirteen would guarantee success.”

“Guarantee.” Anouk’s voice is skeptical. “Nothing in magic is guaranteed.”

“Where do we find ten more pairs?” I think about the logistics. “It took years for the three we have to form.”