Page 1 of Magic Unrestrained

Prologue

New Orleans was a city steeped in secrets, and the Duvall sisters were among its most dangerous.

Savannah’s fingers traced the edges of the journal she’d received on her sixteenth birthday. The leather cover, worn and weathered from years of use, held memories she could never escape. Inside, its yellowed pages brimmed with intricate sketches of demons, dark symbols, and descriptions of forbidden rituals—silent reminders of the fate she could never outrun. Each of her sisters—Geneva, Phoenix, and Catalina—had their own Grimm File, just like Savannah, along with the weapons tied to them. These tools, both gifts and curses, had been passed down through their bloodline, bound by ancient magic and shadowed by death.

The night she was given the journal, Savannah’s life changed forever.

Their mother and aunt had been exiled from the fae realm, seeking refuge in the Crescent City after their mother’s wings had been stripped as punishment for love and betrayal. Her mother’s choice to fall for a mortal had cost her everything. But out of that forbidden love came something the Fae Council had never foreseen—four daughters, each destined to face unimaginable creatures of darkness, destruction, and death.

The city pulsed with life beneath Savannah’s feet, but it was the shadows that called to her and her sisters, whispering their names. They had spent their entire lives preparing for this, trained to wield magic with lethal precision. Their bodies had become weapons, their powers simmering just beneath the surface, ready to strike. Yet despite all their training, there was one thing they’d never been prepared for—finding their fated mates.

Her aunt’s warning echoed in her mind, chilling her with its gravity. “You won’t unlock your full power until you find him. And when you do… everything will change.”

Each of the Duvall sisters had grown stronger, their magic surging just out of reach, waiting to be fully unrestrained. But without their mates, they were incomplete, only fragments of the true power that lay within. The journals had predicted it all. The hunt was inevitable—not just for the demons they were destined to vanquish, but for the one soul that could unlock their ultimate potential.

The Grimm Files were more than just a family burden. They were a prophecy. One that would either save the world—or plunge it into eternal darkness.

Chapter

One

SAVANNAH

The dim glow of Savannah's laptop screen was the only light in the attic office as she sat hunched over her desk, her stylus tapping absently against the tablet. The ceiling beams of the old mansion creaked occasionally, as if even the house was restless. The air was thick with the smell of jasmine drifting up from the garden below, but the peaceful scent did little to calm her growing frustration.

She stared at the screen before her, where the half-finished logo design for a new natural peanut butter company blinked back at her. The assignment wasn’t particularly difficult—organic, wholesome, simple. But every time she tried to sketch out the sleek, modern logo the client had requested, something else appeared on the screen.

Not a logo.

A face.

A man’s face.

He was gorgeous—impossibly so. His strong jawline, the curve of his full lips, the sharp intensity of his dark, unreadable eyes. Savannah’s hand had been tracing his features almost unconsciously for days now, and the fact that she didn’t even know this man, had never seen him in real life, only made itworse. Every time she closed her eyes, he was there, haunting her dreams. Standing just out of reach, watching her with that piercing gaze that sent shivers down her spine.

She leaned back in her chair, blowing a frustrated breath up toward the loose pieces of her blue fringed bangs that needed a trim. Her fingers itched to draw him again, but she forced herself to refocus on the task at hand. The peanut butter company had given her a deadline. Two days. She had to stop letting her imagination run away with her.

But no matter how hard she tried, every attempt at clean, geometric lines turned into soft curves, high cheekbones, and dark, sensual eyes. Savannah clenched her fist around the stylus, staring at the image that had once again replaced her work. The man’s face stared back at her as if mocking her inability to concentrate.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, setting the stylus down with a frustrated thud.

Her fingers brushed the screen, and with one quick swipe, the image of the mysterious man disappeared into the digital void. But he wouldn’t stay gone for long. She knew that. He never did.

Savannah shoved away from her desk, standing up with a restless energy that buzzed under her skin. Sitting here wasn’t helping. Staring at the screen wasn’t helping. She needed a break—no, she needed a release. And there was only one thing that ever managed to burn off this kind of energy.

Demon hunting.

Her sisters, Geneva, Phoenix, and Catalina, would have told her to sleep it off, work out in their home gym, or meditate. Her aunt Maeve would have given her some ancient fae wisdom about balance and peace. But Savannah didn’t want balance or peace. She wanted the adrenaline of the hunt, the thrill ofchasing down the darkness that slithered through the streets of New Orleans.

She didn’t need to tell them she was going out. Not tonight. It wasn’t like she couldn’t handle herself. She’d been doing this long enough, and sometimes, hunting was the only thing that cleared her mind.

Decision made, Savannah grabbed the black leather jacket slung over the back of her chair and slipped it on, the worn material a comforting weight on her shoulders. She headed down the narrow staircase, making her way through the silent house. The mansion was quiet, as it always was at night. Geneva was either at work or in her room. Phoenix would be with Griff and Catalina with Zane. Her Aunt Maeve would be doing whatever it was she did nowadays. Her sisters might have forgiven her for her betrayal, but Savannah hadn’t. Her sisters were far more philosophical, more full of grace, but every time she looked at their aunt, all she could see was what her treachery had cost them. The familiar creak of the floorboards echoed as she moved, the old house responding to her every step.

Once she reached the rooftop access, she climbed the narrow iron staircase leading to the rooftop garden, the night breeze greeting her as she pushed open the door. The soft glow of the city lights bathed the space in a warm, muted light. From here, the Garden District stretched out below her, with its grand houses and ancient oaks, but beyond that lay the city proper, a shimmering sea of neon and shadows.

Savannah paused only for a moment, listening to the steady hum of the city below. New Orleans pulsed with life, even this late. The streets were never truly empty. There was always someone or something lurking in the shadows. She took a deep breath, feeling the tension in her muscles ease slightly. Up here, the air was clearer, the noise of the world below softer, distant.But it wasn’t enough to calm the restless energy inside her. She needed to move.

With a single thought, she summoned her fae magic, feeling the familiar rush of power surge through her veins. Her wings—gossamer-thin, glowing faintly with the energy of the fae realm—unfurled from her back, shimmering in the moonlight. The fae blood that coursed through her veins responded eagerly to the call of the night, her power intertwining with the mist rising from the ground, amplifying the strength in her limbs.

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