Chapter One
As the first snow of the year began falling on the golden city of Gellingham, Kieran Pelumbra was hours away from unintentionally upending the entire course of his life.
He, of course, wouldn’t have guessed that at the time. For him, it was like any other Friday since his move to Celdwyn’s capital city. He’d woken to the piercing ring of his alarm clock just before the sun rose, thrown on his wrinkled uniform, and shuffled off through the frigid air on his way to the Witch’s Brew Café. The morning rush had seemed endless; due to the café’s proximity to the Library of Curses, most of their clients were, predictably, witches.
None of them, however, was the witch Kieran was not-so-patiently waiting for.
As each new customer walked through the door, a silver bell rang overhead. Kieran couldn’t help but tear his attention away from the customer ordering to see if maybe, just maybe, a familiar face would appear. As the minutes ticked by, though, only the regulars and a few tourists stopped in. He examined the clock on the wall as the hands moved far too quickly toward nine a.m. That was the start time of said familiar face’s shift at the library, which meant that after nine hit, it was pretty much a guarantee he wasn’t stopping in.
When the clock’s arms landed on twelve and nine, Kieran let out a long, strained sigh.
“Is making a mocha really that much of a hassle?” the customer in front of him asked, incredulous.
Kieran jumped at the sound of the voice. “What? Oh—no, I’m sorry. Just distracted. I’ll have that for you at the bar in just a moment.”
As Kieran turned to the espresso machine, his coworker, a blond woman in her early twenties named Sylvia, shot him a sideways look.
“Hoping Ash will come in?” she guessed.
Blood rushed to Kieran’s cheeks. It had been six months since Kieran started dating Ash Bartelle, an apprentice librarian at Gellingham’s famed Library of Curses. Their relationship hadn’t started in earnest until just after Kieran’s deadly family curse broke last spring, thanks to his best friend, Delilah Bea. After a brief period of travel around the country, Kieran, along with his twin sister, Briar, and Delilah, her girlfriend, had decided to move to Gellingham. For Delilah, it had meant the opportunity to become a professional cursebreaker. For Kieran, it had meant a chance at pursuing the handsome librarian he’d fallen for on their first trip to the city.
Everything had clicked into place. The first few months of dating Ash had been some of the most exciting of Kieran’s life. The boys had explored the city together, trying all kinds of new foods and checking out the historic sites Ash had such an intense love for. The relationship had been fun, and easy, and Kieran had looked forward to seeing it grow every day.
Until the summer ended, anyway. As soon as autumn arrived, Ash’s apprenticeship kicked back into full gear, taking up most of his free time. At first, they’d managed to still see each other. Their meetings were brief but enjoyable. But as the city grew colder, the stretches between meetings got longer and longer until . . .
Kieran loaded a scoop of ground coffee beans into the espresso machine, cranking it until it clicked into place. “He’s probably just trying to save money—you know how it is. Apprentices don’t make much, and rent’s expensive.”
Sylvia’s lips pressed into a line. “Doesn’t stop all the other apprentices from stopping in every morning.”
Kieran opened his mouth to shoot some comment back at her, but then Sylvia turned on the frother, which let out a loud hiss as she dipped it into the milk. That, paired with the rumble of the espresso machine, made it too loud to do anything but watch the machines work. Espresso slowly began to spit into a small white cup, and the milk began to bubble and steam, giving off a warm aroma.
When the machines finished and the noise quieted, Sylvia asked, “When did Ash last come in?”
Kieran had to hold back a wince. “Oh, well . . . Lauren said he’s been coming in in the afternoons pretty frequently. He’s less busy then, I think.”
“In the afternoons . . . when you’re not working?”
Kieran turned even redder. “Maybe we could talk about something else? The closers haven’t cleaned the floors since Wednesday—”
“Kieran, come on. While you stare at the door like a war widow waiting for a soldier who’ll never come home, I’m picking up the slack. I think I deserve a little honesty.”
“Honesty about what?”
“Face it, Kieran: He’s avoiding you, and it’s messing with your head. A
lot.”
Kieran tensed. His stomach twisted, and bile crept up his throat. “No, he’s not. He’s just . . . got a lot on his plate.”
Sylvia cocked an eyebrow. “How long has it been since you last saw each other?”
Kieran flinched. The answer wouldn’t have been so hard to wrap his head around if he hadn’t been literally counting the days. Especially since one day had turned into three, then five, then a week, and then . . .
“A month,” Kieran admitted, forcing himself to focus on mixing thin curls of chocolate into the espresso and milk, melting them down the moment they hit the steaming liquid. “Give or take.”
“A
month?” Sylvia repeated in horror. She shook her head. “Kieran, if someone you’re in a relationship with doesn’t talk to you for that long, it’s not a good sign.”
“So?” he shot back, tone more venomous than he’d intended. “Some couples just—you know—talk less than others. How often do you talk to Raya?”
“Every day,” Sylvia replied without missing a beat.
Kieran blinked. “Seriously?”
Sylvia nodded. “Sometimes it’s just a five-minute call to check in, but yeah. If they didn’t talk to me for a month, I’d assume they were dead or . . .”
Kieran asked the question before the growing anxiety tightened his throat too much: “Or what?”
“Or they were breaking up with me.”
Kieran recoiled as if he’d been slapped. He quickly righted himself, clearing his throat. “Well—that’s just your relationship, right? It’s not like that for everyone. Plus, for the record, Ash called me yesterday
and we’re getting dinner tonight, so maybe you’re overthinking it.”
“
I’m overthinking it?” Sylvia repeated, trying not to laugh. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Kieran, come on. You gotta be realistic about this. A relationship where you don’t communicate isn’t much of a relationship at all. You deserve to feel like a priority in your partner’s life.”
Kieran’s eyes went to the floor. “He’s just . . . busy, okay? I can’t blame him for that.”
“We’re all busy, Kieran. What matters is who we make time for.”
Sylvia took the finished mocha from Kieran as he stood in silence, staring out at the door again. While she called the customer’s name and set the mug on the bar, Kieran exhaled through his nose.
She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.She doesn’t know us.
That afternoon, Kieran returned home to the shoddy little apartment he shared with Briar and Delilah. He was tired enough that he passed out face-first on the couch and slept for nearly an hour before the sound of Delilah rifling through the kitchen cabinets stirred him from his post-work nap haze. He moaned, just faintly, and Delilah stifled a chuckle.
“Sorry to wake you,” she said as she pulled down a mixing bowl from one of the higher cabinets. Now that his eyes were open, Kieran spotted tins of flour and sugar lined up neatly on the counter. Delilah continued: “I’m meeting some potential clients this evening, and I wanted to make them some enchanted biscuits as a sort of . . . preview of my magic. Might help sell them when it comes to hiring me to break their curse.”
Kieran sat up, rubbing his bleary eyes with the inside of his forearm. “Oh, it’s okay. I should have gone to my room.”
“But it’s too cold in there?” Delilah guessed, shooting him a wry smile over her shoulder as she pulled her brown curls into a ponytail.
In response to her repeating his frequent grievance, Kieran muttered, “Maybe.”
Delilah laughed, then turned back to her baking. Ever since they’d moved in together, near the end of summer, she’d made an effort to fill the run-down apartment with things that made it feel more like a home and less like a refuge for wayward mice (which they had seemingly evicted, though Kieran wasn’t holding his breath).
Copyright © 2025 by Kayla Cottingham. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
