Page 32 of Season's Greetings
Claudia’s form collapsed mid-ritual.
Silence followed—shocking. Cold.
Her magic had backfired.
The Hollow Moon Rite, forged in love and silence, had protected itself—refusing to be broken by the vengeance of a nonbeliever.
Matthew shook beside him, pale and wide-eyed.
Daniel pulled him into his arms, heart thundering.
Time, which had seemed suspended just moments ago, suddenly sped up.
Grady and Aunt Rhona appeared out of nowhere, followed by a swarm of others checking them over before hurrying to where Claudia lay.
Council healers arrived minutes later—high-vis jackets, flashing lights—drawn to the site by the ether flare.
Claudia was gone.
Body intact.
Soul dissolved.
Cast out by her own ritual.
As the healer lifted Claudia’s body onto a stretcher, Aunt Rhona stepped forward, placed her gloved hand over Claudia’s heart, and declared quietly:
“Ancestral law defends what is true. And punishes what is twisted.”
There was no grieving her passing.
Just a deep sense of peace.
Long overdue.
Daniel stood in the grove, arms wrapped around Matthew, the bond mark still glowing faintly between them.
The snow fell softly now, quiet and unbothered.
And for the first time in years, Daniel felt the future open wide before him.
Not as a battlefield.
But as a home.
Epilogue
Daniel
Stepping into the offices of Sanders & Sanders—or as Daniel had come to think of it,Santa’s grotto—the day before Christmas Eve was mayhem.
But for the first time in a long time, he was fine with it.
No growls. Just glitter.
The scent hit him first—clove, pine, and the faint trace of peppermint.
Someone had attacked his office with festivity.
