Page 43 of Moonveil and Magic

Honestly, the voice echoed in our minds, crisp and thoroughly unimpressed. Great-Grandmother settled onto the coffee table in her calico body, looking at the two men with a terrifying human intelligence. It appears two apex predators and a shard of a legendary relic were the secret recipe for your romantic life all along. If I’d realised you needed this much drama to stop overthinking, Ivy, I would have summoned them years ago. But I suppose the scenery is at least pleasant to look at, even if your manners are somewhat lacking.

Lucien offered a wry, elegant smile, though he did not look away from me. “She has a very direct way of communicating, Ivy.”

His amber eyes narrowed, a sense of deep, scratching déjà vu tugging at his features as he stared hard at the calico. “No... it couldn’t be possible, could it?”

Lucien muttered under his breath, “Violet... Violet. Kael, we knew a Violet fifty years ago.” His breath hitched as his eyes widened. “Oh, my God. You’re Violet Thornton the Third! You were the strongest witch of our time!”

“You knew Violet, my great-grandmother?” I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. A cold wave of dread washed over me at the realisation that the two men in my bed might share a complicated history with my own bloodline. It wasn't just the shock of a talking cat; it was the realisation that I was standing in front of a legend—and that Kael and Lucien knew the dangerous, unedited version of the woman who used to bake me biscuits.

Goddess help me, this might not end well.

“You know,” I said, teasing lightly to break the sudden, heavy tension. “Puma, wolf... you two could have dated women from each generation of my family.”

I gestured toward the kitchen island. “Now, can we at least have breakfast without you staring at me like I am a rare grimoire you’re about to study? My great-grandmother is judging your manners.”

I looked between them both, silently laughing on the outside, but inwardly praying my joke wasn't actually true.

Lucien’s amber eyes flicked to Kael, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Warlocks never tell what happens in Ebonvale.” He huffed a low, amused laugh. “Besides, we’re not staring, Ivy. We are observing. There’s a difference.”

Kael rolled his eyes, but a faint, indulgent smile touched his mouth. “Yes, what happens in Ebonvale stays in Ebonvale. But in truth, we only ever circled her in coven and Council situations, so you don’t have to worry about that, little red.”

He leaned in, his dark eyes softening as his voice dropped to a low rumble. “And as for the rest... you know we’re protective. And as your great-grandmother so pointedly noticed, we’re hungry in more ways than one.”

My breath caught, a shiver running down my spine. I let my fingers trace idle patterns on both of their hands, feeling the warmth and the unspoken promises. Great-Grandmother meandered around our feet, her silver mana trailing behind her like stardust as she reinforced the wards near the door. She was no longer my familiar. She was the silent architect of our safety, circling Kael and brushing against his legs in a way that finally felt like a matriarch’s approval.

Lucien placed a steaming mug of coffee in front of me, his amber eyes dark and intense. “Drink. You need your strength. We all do.” He leaned in just enough for his breath to brush my ear. “We are not done with you yet, little red.”

Kael’s dark gaze followed the movement, a low and rumbling growl escaping him. “No. We are very far from done. Every pulse, every shiver, they belong to us now.”

My chest rose and fell rapidly, excitement pooling low in my abdomen, but my mind raced with emotion as well. I closed my eyes briefly, letting myself feel the energy and the emotional trust flowing freely. I could feel Lucien’s controlled vibration and Kael’s protective heat, anchored by the silver spark of my great-grandmother’s presence.

“The shard responds to us,” Lucien whispered, his voice husky. “To all three of us. Every touch, every glance, every heartbeat.” His fingers brushed my arm, warm and firm, grounding me.

Kael’s hand followed, resting lightly atop mine with his fingers entwining. “You have given us something rare, Ivy. Magic, trust, and you. All of you.”

I felt a warmth spread through my chest, tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as the magnitude of the moment hit me. I leaned back into the space they held for me, a space I had never believed existed. For years, I had lived as a low-tier witch in the eyes of the world. I was the girl who had to make herself small to survive the Council's scrutiny and the city's indifference. I was used to being a ghost in my own life, providing herbs and charms but never truly being known.

Every relationship I had was a series of compromises where I suppressed my true High Witch authority, terrified that if I showed my unbound power, I would be too much or not enough. I had spent a lifetime hiding the fire in my veins, pretending I was merely a bystander in a world of giants. But here, caught between the wolf and the puma, I did not have to hide. I was the nexus. I was a High Witch in her prime, and my great-grandmother was watching from the eyes of a calico to make sure I did not forget it.

For the first time in my life, I felt seen, desired, and powerful all at once. It was not just the magic of the shard; it was the magic of being accepted in my rawest, most unbound form. I had spent a lifetime looking for a home, only to find it was not a place at all. It was them.

I looked at Lucien’s steady gaze and Kael’s fierce protection, and my breath hitched. “I love you both,” I whispered, the words finally finding air.

Lucien’s vibration deepened, and Kael’s low growl hummed through the sofa. The shard responded instantly, glowing brighter and thrumming with energy. The air itself seemed alive with our combined aura. Breakfast was forgotten for the moment as we sat in charged silence. My fingers lingered between both of theirs, and Great-Grandmother curled around my legs, her tail flicking in contentment.

This was exactly where I belonged. All of us together in a relationship. The shard, ours to protect, together.

Enough sentiment for one morning, Great-Grandmother’s voice cut through, sharp and focused. The Council thinks you are a frightened girl, Ivy. We are going to let them keep thinking that until the trap is set. Finish your coffee. We are going to Moonveil. We have work to do, and I am not spending another century in a body that requires me to eat kibble. The texture is offensive, and the lack of seasoning is a crime against my palate.

The morning stretched on, no longer just a state of tension, but a mission. With my wolf, my puma, and my great-grandmother’s silver light, the world outside did not stand a chance.

The Distraction

While I was tucked away in Lucien’s penthouse, wrapped in the golden haze of a new beginning, my inner circle was out in the cold, grey reality of Ebonvale, playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse. They were the invisible shield, the first line of defence I had not even asked for, but desperately needed.

Inside the glass-walled sanctuary, the air felt still, but Violet was anything but calm. She was pacing the perimeter of the balcony, her paws clicking softly against the marble. Her silver eyes were fixed on the horizon, toward the South District, where the light seemed to be curdling into a bruised, sickly purple. She stopped and let out a low, vibrating growl—not the sound of a cat, but the sound of an ancient sentinel sensing a breach.

They are moving, Ivy, Great-Grandmother’s voice echoed in my mind, sharp and insistent. Your friends are clever, but the Council is no longer playing by the rules of engagement. I can taste the suppression magic from here. It smells like rot and iron.