Black Moon (The Moonlight Trilogy) (22 page)

“Thank you, Mom.”

Sarah smiled, her own eyes wet. “Come on. I’ll help you pack.”

Simon hadn’t moved from the
bed since he stormed into the house after bailing from the car.
Coward!
he thought for the fiftieth time—not only for running away from Willa and Rowan’s shocked faces but also for choosing not to use his magic. It may be a logical course of action, but it felt wrong. It felt like running away. And, as he’d already decided today, running away never worked.

He exhaled forcibly as he rolled to his side. The storm final broke. Sunlight reflected through the raindrops on the window casting tiny rainbow prisms across the dark wood floor. Dazed from over-thinking, Simon watched the colors play against each other, a small headache pulsing in the back of his head.

The door creaked open, and he jerked toward the sound.
Willa!
She stepped in quietly, a loaded duffle bag on her shoulder and box in her hands. He’d never been so happy to see a duffle bag in all his life. He leaped off the bed and pulled her into his arms.

“Welcome home,” he whispered. She laughed and then pulled back. A cocktail of emotions stirred in her eyes. “How did they take it?”

“Really well,” she said quietly. “I guess.” A frown pulled at her lips. “Simon, you can’t give up your magic. I think that’s more dangerous than using it.”

Simon shook his head. “But what if—”

“Listen,” she said sternly, and he pressed his lips together. “I know you’re scared of hurting someone, but I had a thought. The cave, the clock, and today—they all involved your Mind gift, right?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Then you just have to stay away from anything that could aggravate
that
part of your magic. You can still use regular magic, train and do the Elemental Challenge. Right?” She dropped her bag, and it hit the floor with a loud thud. “That’s the easy stuff. You can do that in your sleep.”

Simon nodded, slowly, considering.
Can it work?
“It’s still a risk . . .”

“Maybe, but probably less of a risk than suppressing everything.” She grabbed his upper arms. “Do you really want to give up on the challenge? Give up the title of True Witch?” She gave him a small smile.

“I guess not,” he pretended to debate. He’d been waiting months to see how well he could do in the Elemental Challenge.

Willa scoffed. “Just admit that I’m right.”

He smiled. “Fine. We’ll give it a try, but . . .” All joking and smiles drained from him. “But if anyone else gets hurt, even if it’s just a scrape, I’m done, Willa.”

Her face grew as solemn as his. “I know,” she said quietly. “I know this is all kinds of messed up right now, and I’m sorry.”

He hugged her. “For now, I’m trying to have faith that Amelia will save me once again.”

“Me, too.”

Simon thought of Willa going back to the cave, his trepidation increasing. A sudden thought formed in his mind, an urge he never expected to feel. The idea had been vague, awakened by something Willa said at the cliff, but now it expanded into an insatiable desire. “Marry me?” he blurted out.

Willa jerked back and blinked up at him. “What?”

He swallowed; the words shocked him more than her. All his life he’d expected to be alone, never daring to dream of such normal things as love and marriage. But suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be tied to Willa in every way possible, legally as well as magically. He took her face in his hands. Of course, he knew he didn’t deserve her after all he’d put her through the last months. He still hadn’t fully opened up about the cave, but if he couldn’t do that, he could do this. “I want to marry you. No one has ever loved me like you do, and I want to love you as completely as I can in return.”

Willa stared for a moment, her face awash in shock. “Simon, I don’t want you to feel obligated . . .” she exhaled slowly, “I know I brought it up on the cliff, but . . .”

“No, no, that’s not it.” He took her hands. “I
want
to. What did your grandma say? ‘A perfect magical circle?’” He squeezed her hands.

She scoffed lightly. “But now? With everything turned upside down? It doesn’t make sense.”

“It does. Let’s do something normal, something solid, something just for us; not for the Covenant, not for your parents—although I’m sure they’ll be happy—but just because it’s what we want.” His heart raced, sweeping him away in his excitement. “Tonight! We’ll do it tonight. Here, in the backyard. Do you think Rowan counts as a minister or whatever?” His mind tumbled over the ideas, the images that followed.
Willa in a white dress.
His breath caught.

“What?!” Willa shook her head and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. But behind her confusion he saw it: a glimmer of happiness.

He latched onto it. “Marry me, Willa. Be my best friend, my soul mate, my partner, my
wife
.”

Willa shook her head again, more slowly this time. She put a hand over her mouth. When she lowered it, her face transformed. A smile spread her lips, the kind he hadn’t seen since the trouble with Archard first began—carefree, unrestrained happiness.

A laugh bubbled out of her, and the space behind his heart grew comfortably hot. Simon pulled her to him and kissed her until the candles on the mantel melted.

Archard sat in the same
place he’d been sitting for the last twenty-four hours, the kitchen table spread with Bartholomew’s and the Dreamer’s grimoires and all his notes about the two most important spells of his life. He was so close to perfecting them. Now they only had to wait for the full moon in three days.

The front door slammed shut, and he looked up to see Rachel hurrying in out of the rain. She shook off her raincoat and dropped it lazily to the floor. He turned back to his work. “Anything?” he said.

She scoffed. “How long are you going to make me follow them around like some grimy P.I.?” She dropped dramatically into a chair.

Archard ignored her complaint. “Anything today?” he repeated.

She exhaled sharply and then said, “The girl Dreamer has officially moved into Plate’s Place. I assume her big boyfriend will also. They spent the morning up in the mountains, doing some kind of spell. The Mind boy can’t seem to control his powers.” She laughed. “He threw his girl and Rowan thirty feet through the air.”

“Any indication that they suspect us?” he said while scribbling another note on his papers.

“Of course, not. They are so clueless. So much for all-
powerful Covenant magic.”

Archard finally looked up again. “I’ve been thinking about that. I was sure they’d have been onto us by now, even with all the protection and blocking spells. I’m beginning to think that something is wrong with their Binding.”

“What do you mean? How could the Binding work at all if it was flawed?” Rachel picked up the mug at his elbow and threw back the cold coffee.

Archard shook his head. “I’m not sure. It was just a thought. I have much more important things to worry about.”

Rachel hummed an acknowledgment. “Well, at the very least, it will make it much easier for us to break the Binding.”

“Exactly,” Archard nodded, flipping a page in one of the grimoires.

Chapter 27

Waxing Gibbous

July—Present Day

W
illa stood in the kitchen of Plate
’
s Place, her chest tight with delicious anticipation. Wynter, Sarah, and Charlotte fluttered around her, fixing this and adjusting that. Willa waited to feel nervous, for her pulse to quicken or her stomach to twist; but instead, effulgent peace filled her from head to toe. She had never felt so calm, so content. None of the worries of the last weeks and months existed at this moment. All their problems pushed aside, saved for another day. Whatever might happen, now they faced it not only as soul mates, but husband and wife.

Dressed in her great-grandma Mabel
’
s wedding dress, Willa had also never felt as
beautiful
. The satin dress, once white, but now turned winsome cream with age, gleamed in the lamp light. The
glossy
fabric was cool against her flushed skin, and the dress was nearly a perfect fit. There hadn
’
t been time to properly clean it, so it smelled of dust and age, but Willa didn
’
t mind; she adored that smell. The dress had a shallow, sweetheart
neckline
and cap sleeves made of delicate, flower-
patterned lace—also yellowed with age, and paper-thin. The lace continued down from the sleeves to the high waist line, draping over the satin skirt in two A-line layers. Tiny silver beads lined the lace like droplets of dew. The skirt fell to Willa
’
s bare feet, a small train
flaring out
in the back.

Wynter handed Sarah a simple, elegant crown she
’
d woven from willow branches and small white roses. Sarah took it with an emotional smile and stepped in front of her daughter. The mother of the bride wore a simple baby blue summer dress and sandals, her shoulder-length hair curled around her face. Willa answered her mom
’
s smile with her own and dipped her head. Sarah nestled the crown i
nto
place and fluffed her daughter
’
s long chestnut waves. She took Willa
’
s hands and opened her mouth to speak but said nothing, her eyes brimming with motherly tears. Willa laughed and leaned forward to kiss her mom
’
s cheek.

Charlotte lifted Sarah
’
s camera from the counter and snapped a picture. Willa said, “It
’
s not as grand as we imagined, but it feels perfect, right?”

Sarah nodded, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. “Absolutely.”

Charlotte opened the backdoor. “Ready?” she said, beaming.

Willa took a slow breath
, sparkling excitement in her blood
. “Yes.”

The women moved out into the backyard where the rest of the covens, Ethan, and Simon waited under the willow. Willa gasped. Rowan had transformed the yard into a gorgeous
wonderland
. Garlands of roses and sunflowers were fastened to the porch and strung across the length of the grass to the willow, the smell blissfully intoxicating. Lanterns swung from the flower garlands, tea lights ablaze, throwing soft, glamorous light through the yard. Sprigs of rosemary and thyme lay out in lines, making a path from her to Simon. Along the path several ceramic urns
stood proudly
, overflowing with creamy peonies
and lavender
. The sun hung low in the sky, just about to slip behind the mountains. Nearly full, the snow-white moon rose opposite, adding its glistening light to the atmosphere. The willow shivered with joy, its leaves glistening in the candlelight.

Willa padded down the stairs, feeling suspended in a fantasy, a rare, mystical moment. Hazel handed her a bouquet of small sunflowers, mixed with rosemary and
lavender
sprigs. Tied to the stems of the flowers and herbs was a length of twine; from the end swung a
rose quartz
crystal. Willa caught her father
’
s misty eyes and smiled warmly. The tension that had existed between them for so long melted away. Looking at him, she felt like she had as a kid, when he would take her into his arms.

Simon stood near the trunk of the tree, next to Rowan, dressed in the same fine black suit with its handsome frock coat that he
’
d worn for the Covenant Binding. He didn
’
t wear a tie, leaving his crisp white shirt open at the neck. His blond curls glowed. His smile quickened the beat of her heart, and the look in his eyes made her stomach flutter in the best way.

Walking forward, the lush grass cool on her feet, Willa held Simon
’
s eyes, aware only of him. He eagerly stepped forward to meet her, taking her hand and tucking it into the bend of his arm. The air hovered at the perfect temperature, that pleasant spot between hot and warm. The owl that lived in the willow hooted loudly.

Reluctantly, Willa pulled her eyes from Simon to look at Rowan, who smiled broadly. Also dressed in his black suit, shirt open, beard neatly trimmed, the Luminary looked very much his part as leader. He nodded and began the ceremony. “The poet David Whyte wrote, ‘We are literally sparks struck from the creation of life itself.
’
If we are fortunate to find our soul mate, we instantly recognize that spark. It is not only magical, but essential. Mr. Whyte also wrote it is ‘
a human necessity to have an experience of the
timeless
in order to invigorate everything we must do in time.’ The joining of two soul mates, a timeless, eternal ritual, allows us to go through our time, our lives, with the person who most perfectly helps us rise to the happiness and challenges that come.” He paused to smile and give directions. “Simon and Willa, please join right hands.”

Willa handed Charlotte her flowers and t
hen
held
out
her hand
; Simon gripped it strongly. She smiled, feeling not only light and dizzy with happiness but also aware of a deep connection to the man in front of her. There had always been that powerful sense of joining, of being linked; but tonight it grew, matured.

Rowan stepped closer, four long silk ribbons in his hand: green, blue, red, yellow. He lifted the green ribbon first. “Will you stand together on a solid foundation of love, kindness, and forgiveness, as strong as the earth beneath your feet?”

First, Willa said, “Yes,” and then Simon.

Rowan draped the green ribbon over their joined hands. He lifted the blue. “Will you honor and respect one another, vowing to never break that honor, to be as faithful as the sea to the shore?”

Willa and Simon gave their yes, and Rowan draped the ribbon. Willa’
s pulse quickened
as she continued to hold Simon’s eyes. Marvelous warmth radiated from behind her heart.

With the red ribbon, Rowan said, “Will you share each other’s pain and seek to erase it?”

“Yes.”

“Finally, will you share each other’s laughter and look for the brightness in life, to keep each other’s spirits as light as air, carefree and unburdened?”

“Yes.”

Rowan draped the final ribbon and then gently gathered the
ends, tying all four ribbons together in a large knot on top of Willa and Simon’s hands. “As your hands are bound together, so too are your hearts, your lives, your souls joined in a union of love and trust. Above you is the great moon
. . .
” Rowan lifted his head to the sky. A shimmering ribbon of moonlight serpentined down from the sky to wrap around the couple’s hand, hot and electric. Willa gasped as the energy entered her body, filled her soul, and connected her to Simon.

Rowan continued, “Below you is the earth, around you, the air.” A breeze shuffled through the weeping willow branches. “Inside you, the fire of your bond. This bond is yours forever to tend, to cherish, to savor. Cultivate it carefully, and your love will grow into the sturdiest tree, the most beautiful flower, the most enduring star in the firmament.”

Rowan stepped back. The moonlight circling Willa and Simon’s hands retreated quietly, leaving behind a glowing trail of
opalescent
white. “Simon, you may give Willa her ring now,” Rowan instructed.

Simon reached into his pocket. Willa lifted her left
hand. As Simon’s hand came out to meet hers, it trembled, and his face shone with joy. “This ring belonged to Rowan’s great-grandmother,” he began. “It was passed down through several generations. When I saw it, I knew it would be perfect for you.” He opened his hand, and Willa gasped.

An oval moonstone, not only milky white but also with
flecks of blue and
green
, sat in a bed of silver, the setting
designed with small loops along the base of the stone. The band, an intricate weaving of silver Celtic knots, was wide at the top to support the stone but thinned near the bottom. The metal had a beautiful patina, obviously old, but well cared for. The ring as a whole was poetic and lovely.

Simon slipped it onto Willa’
s finger
, the metal warm from the magic. She beamed at Simon and then smiled her thanks at Rowan, who nodded proudly.

Willa also had a ring for Simon, this
one
a gift from her father. Charlotte reached forward and handed it to her. “This ring,” Willa said, “comes from my family.” She moved her eyes to her parents, standing together, holding hands. “This is my father’s father, Grandpa William’s, wedding band. Dad inherited it when William passed away a few years ago.”

Willa slid the simple white-gold band onto Simon’
s finger.
In the center of the band, a square of deep blue, beautifully
veined turquoise sat regally. Simon gazed at the ring for a
moment and then pulled Willa close for the softest, most tender of kisses he had ever given her.

When he pulled back, in his eyes she saw reflected all her emotions and sentiments. Something inside her settled, as if it took a deep sigh and eased into a more
comfortable
position. She felt like she should say something to voice her joy, but words fell short, inadequate. Simon smiled knowingly, sensing her thoughts. He lifted her hand and kissed the knuckle above the ring he’
d given her.

Rowan stepped forward to wave his hand over the knot of ribbons. Slowly, the slips of silk untied themselves and then floated through the air to Sarah. Her eyes wide, Willa’s mother reached out to take the ribbons, a precious keepsake.

The group, their family, erupted in cheers and applause.