Page 9 of Mane Squeeze
Not just by magic.
By something much more dangerous.
A reason.
4
LILLITH
The sun filtered through the pine trees like spilled honey, golden beams cutting through the morning chill as Lillith stalked down the cobblestone path with Dominic at her heels.
Not beside her.
Behind her.
Because if she looked at him right now, she might commit an actual felony. Or set his hair on fire. Possibly both.
Thirty feet. Thirty feet was the limit. Not a single inch more before the curse tightened its grip like a vise around their lungs and hearts. It was like being bound to a magical elastic cord—one she could feel tightening every time he lingered near a tree or paused to flirt with a butterfly.
And today?
Today she was already at atwoon the murder scale before they even reached the diner.
“We really walking to the diner like this?” Dominic asked from behind her, voice low and amused. “Couldn’t we portal?”
“I don’t trust my portals when I’m cranky,” Lillith snapped. “Unless you want to end up in the realm of petty revenge spirits, you’ll keep walking.”
He chuckled.Chuckled.Like this was some kind of joke. Like her entire life hadn’t been flipped upside down by a rogue prince, a botched summoning, and the walking temptation currently making too much noise with his boots.
The Griddle & Glimmer appeared ahead, nestled between two oversized oaks and bathed in morning haze. The café’s windows were fogged with warmth and cinnamon, fairy lights blinking lazily under the awning. A carved wooden sign swung above the door, its lettering freshly polished:BREAKFAST & BINDINGS – COME FOR THE PANCAKES, STAY FOR THE MAGIC.
“Twyla better be here,” Lillith muttered, shoving the door open.
A soft chime echoed through the space as the scent of maple syrup and brewing stormroot coffee hit her like a nostalgic punch.
And there she was.
Twyla Duskroot stood behind the counter, apron dusted in flour, opal eyes gleaming like she kneweverything. Her rose-gold curls were piled high in a mess that was somehow chic, and her wings flickered briefly into visibility before fading again.
“Ohhhh my stars,” she gasped dramatically, flinging her arms wide. “The doomed lovers arrive!”
“Twyla,” Lillith hissed.
Dominic grinned. “Doomed, huh? That’s dramatic. I like it.”
Twyla rounded the counter, flour-streaked and barefoot, like chaos incarnate. “I leave foroneweekend to visit my cousin’s hedge coven and y’all get soul-bound? You couldn’t wait?”
“How do you know already? Is it that obvious?” Dominic asked, cocky as ever, leaning against the breakfast counter likehe owned the place. That smirk, all slow confidence and golden-lion arrogance, made Lillith want to hex the wood right out from under his boots.
Twyla’s smile gleamed with wicked joy. “No, yourbetrothedsent me a message through firelight last night.”
“Don’t. Call. Me. That,” Lillith hissed, dragging out each word like a warning. Her voice was low but sharp enough to slice aether.
“And it was an accident,” she added through gritted teeth, shooting a mortified glance toward the trio of old witches sipping their rose-charm tea by the window, leaning in like a coven of enchanted pigeons.
“Lillith summoned a fae prince,” Dominic added like he was telling someone’s embarrassing middle school story. “He cursed us for fun.”
“Oh,sweetie,” Twyla drawled, sauntering from behind the counter and looping her arm through Lillith’s. “You’ve got to stop collecting enemies like they’re enchanted baseball cards.”
