The scent of cinnamon and baked apples clung to everything.
Lucia's bakery stand was already swarmed by the time the sun rose fully over Thornhollow's town square. Laughter echoed through the crisp autumn air as townsfolk shuffled through hay-baled aisles with cider in one hand and caramel apples in the other.
I stood behind the table, sleeves rolled up, flour on my jeans, and my hair twisted into a lazy braid. Ana worked beside me, tying lavender ribbons around bags of honey cakes like she was trying to win an aesthetic award.
Abuela, stationed at the cashbox with her usual no-nonsense grace, oversaw the booth like a queen behind a wall of pastries.
"Your grandmother is the pastry whisperer," Ana muttered as she boxed up another dozen pumpkin rolls.
Abuela didn't even look up. "I heard that."
We were surrounded by her work-rows of cinnamon rolls, spice cookies, cider muffins, and pies still warm from the oven. I'd lost count of how many people told us it "smelled like heaven."
Even surrounded by sweetness and sunshine, my chest still felt tight.
"You okay?" Ana asked quietly.
"Fine," I lied, brushing powdered sugar off my fingers. "Just festival nerves."
She gave me a look. "Festival nerves, or Alec-related whiplash?"
I didn't answer. Not out loud.
Abuela slid a bag of apple tarts across the table and glanced at me briefly. "The nerves mean it matters," she said softly, her tone just for me. "Don't let them dull your flame, mi estrella."
That got me.
Right in the chest.
------
By noon, the line at the bakery booth had finally thinned. Our fingers were sticky with sugar and the edges of our sleeves dusted in flour, but the morning rush was officially over.
Abuela waved a towel at us like a flag of victory. "Go. Eat something. You both look like half-baked ghosts."
Ana laughed. "That's the nicest insult I've heard all day."
"I mean it," Abuela added, handing her apron to a younger volunteer. "Enjoy yourselves. You only get one fall festival a year."
We were just stepping away from the booth when I felt it.
The shift in the air.
Magic moved through me like a ripple-subtle, but familiar. That same gravity I'd felt every time Alec was near.
I turned, and there he was.
Alec walked up to the stand, dressed in dark jeans and a forest green shirt that clung just enough to remind me how close we'd been. His hair was a little tousled, face shadowed by something unspoken.
He looked... calm.
Too calm.
"Hello, Lucia," he said softly, nodding at my grandmother with that careful, respectful tone he always used around her.
Abuela's smile was small but warm. "Alec. It's been a while."
"Too long," he said, eyes flicking briefly in my direction-but only briefly. "Thought I'd stop by before the real chaos begins. Smells incredible."
"You're in luck. The last honey-crumble tart is still warm."
"Sold," he said, already reaching for his wallet.
He didn't look at me again, not directly. But I felt the heat of his presence along my skin like a whisper. The memory of his name-Alecai-still clung to my thoughts like smoke.
Ana gently nudged me. "C'mon. Food."
I nodded and walked away, heart a little heavier than before.
------
We made our way toward the central food court area-tents and booths offering everything from roasted corn to cider-brined sausages. A band was setting up on a smaller stage nearby, and kids ran between hay bales squealing with sugar-fueled glee.
I ordered a cup of spiced chili and Ana got a pretzel as big as her face.
"Okay," she said, mouth full. "Tell me we're winning that Battle of the Bands."
"We are. Unless I burst into flames first."
Ana smirked. "Then we go out in style."
"Scarlet!"
I turned just as Brett jogged up, Zack and Reenie trailing behind him with slushies and way too much energy.
"There you are," he said, flashing that grin. "You ditched me."
"I was working," I replied, flicking a piece of chili at him. "We have jobs."
"Yeah, yeah. Being hot and heroic is a full-time gig."
Zack groaned. "Can someone please humble him?"
Reenie snorted. "I'd pay money for that."
We found a picnic table under a cluster of lantern-lit trees. The mood was easy, light. Brett sat beside me, close but casual, and Ana and Reenie had a back-and-forth pun battle that made Zack nearly choke on his cider.
For a moment, everything felt normal.
No glowing eyes. No fading memories. No tension thick enough to cut through.
Just friends. Music. Autumn sun. And a moment of peace before the night.
------
The sun had begun to dip low in the sky, casting everything in a warm orange glow. Strings of lights flickered to life along the festival walkways, and the scent of roasted nuts and melted caramel lingered in the air.
Somewhere behind us, a band was warming up with loud, chaotic energy, and a fire-dancer performance was starting in the square.
But I needed air.
"I'm gonna check out the maze," I said, stepping away from the group.
Ana raised a brow. "The one with the mirrors?"
I nodded. "Just a minute."
Brett caught the look in my eye. "Want company?"
I hesitated. Then nodded. "If you think you can find me."
He grinned. "Challenge accepted."
The mirror maze was tucked between two cider booths and wrapped in dark green canvas. Lanterns hung overhead, casting strange, flickering shadows inside. The moment I stepped in, the sound of the festival dulled.
It was quiet. Cool. Strange.
Glass reflected my image from every direction-warped, split, too many versions of myself staring back.
I moved deeper, heels clicking softly on the path as I passed reflections that didn't feel quite like me. One looked too sad. Another, too sure.
By the time I reached the center, I stopped-lost in the echo of my own breathing.
And then I heard footsteps.
"Scarlet?"
His voice bounced around the walls.
"Over here," I said softly.
He turned the corner and froze when he saw me, surrounded by glass and golden light. I could tell he was affected-his eyes took their time.
"Damn," he said, stepping closer. "You look like something out of a dream."
"You're getting sappy," I teased.
"I mean it."
He stopped a foot in front of me, our reflections stacked around us like fragments of something real and broken.
"I've been thinking about what I said yesterday," Brett murmured. "About falling for you."
"Brett..."
"I'm not trying to rush you. I just... need you to know that it's real for me. What I feel. And I don't need all of you-not right now. Just whatever part you're willing to give."
The sincerity in his eyes knocked something loose inside me.
"I'm still figuring out who I am," I said quietly. "What I want. It's not fair to ask you to wait."
"I'm not waiting," he said. "I'm choosing. There's a difference."
And then, slowly, he reached for my waist, pulling me closer until my hands rested against his chest.
The kiss was soft.
No fire. No chaos.
Just warmth.
Like autumn sunlight.
When we pulled apart, his forehead rested against mine.
"I'll find you again. Even when it's not a maze."
------
The stage lights glowed brighter as the sky deepened to violet.
Crowds pressed closer toward the front lawn where the festival's largest stage had been set up, and music pulsed from giant speakers strung with glowing leaves and festival banners. The band before us was wrapping up, and Ana was already doing a final tune on her keyboard.
I made my way back toward the group, still tasting Brett's kiss and unsure what to do with it.
But Brett was nowhere in sight.
Ana caught my eye and walked up to me as we waited in the shadows behind the stage.
"Where'd lover boy go?" she whispered.
"I thought he'd be here," I muttered. "He was with me at the maze but-"
"Scarlet." Ana's voice dropped. "Who was he just talking to?"
I followed her gaze past the festival lights.
In the distance, half-shrouded in darkness near the edge of the cider booth crowd, stood a man in a long, dark coat. His presence was wrong-too still, too sharp. I couldn't make out his face, but the air around him made my skin crawl.
Brett stood near him-tense. Like they'd just argued. And the second we looked, the man turned and disappeared into the shadows.
Brett jogged back to us, brushing off his jacket like nothing happened. "Sorry," he said quickly. "Had to take care of something."
Ana raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.
I didn't press.
The stage lights flared. A volunteer waved us forward.
It was time.
We stepped into the glow as the announcer called our name:
Moonlight Mayhem.
The crowd roared. I scanned the sea of faces, heart pounding.
And then I saw him.
Alec.
He stood near the back edge of the crowd, arms folded, eyes fixed on me like I was the only one on that stage. His expression unreadable-until Brett stepped beside me, close, guitar slung low.
Then I saw it.
A flash of something dangerous in Alec's crimson eyes.
Jealousy.
Our set started, and the first notes rolled into the crisp night air. Zack's drums pounded behind me like a second heartbeat, and Ana's keys lifted the melody. Reenie's voice wove through the harmony like smoke.
And I sang.
I sang like the weight of the last few weeks was trapped in my ribs and this was the only way out. Brett stood close-too close-his voice joining mine in the second verse, his hand brushing my back as he leaned into the mic beside me.
The crowd ate it up.
But I only saw one face.
Alec's.
Unmoving. Unblinking.
And full of something that made my chest tighten.
The last chord hit like thunder, and the crowd erupted.
Applause. Cheers. Lights flashing. The glow of lanterns and bonfires flaring in the distance.
I stood there under it all, breathless, heart pounding, sweat cooling along my skin-and something else.
Something wrong.
I smiled, waved. Played the part. Brett leaned in, whispered "We killed it," and draped an arm casually around my shoulders as we stepped down from the stage.
But inside me?
Pressure.
Like magic coiling too tight in my veins, begging to be released.
Each step I took away from the spotlight, the louder the noise inside me got. My fingers tingled. My jaw clenched.
I barely heard the compliments. Barely saw the volunteers offering us cider.
I needed to move.
Now.
------
I slipped away behind the tent, where the crowd thinned and the light barely reached. My chest rose and fell too fast. My hands were glowing-subtly, faintly-but glowing.
"Shit," I whispered, trying to shake it off. "Not now. Not here."
The air behind me shifted.
"Scarlet?"
I turned just as Ana and Reenie appeared from the side of the stage.
Ana's face immediately dropped. "Oh no-hey, hey, look at me. Breathe."
I backed into the wall of the tent, fingers gripping the fabric. "I don't know what's happening. It's like I can't hold it in."
Reenie's eyes were sharp, her voice low. "I felt something too. Just before we went on. It was like a flare. Right when he showed up."
I froze. "You mean the man Brett was talking to?"
Reenie nodded. "He wasn't human. Whatever he was... it made my wolf go quiet. That never happens."
Ana gently placed a hand on my arm. "Scar, your magic's reacting. This wasn't just nerves. It's a warning."
My throat tightened. "I can't lose control here. Not in front of everyone."
"You won't," Ana said firmly. "We've got you."
I closed my eyes, focusing on her voice. On Reenie's quiet strength beside me. On the cool night air slipping under the tent flap.
It took everything in me, but the flare finally dimmed.
The glow faded.
My pulse steadied.
I took one breath, then another.
And then I plastered on a smile.
"I'm fine," I said softly. "Let's go back."
Neither of them believed me.
But they nodded anyway.
Because pretending was safer. For now.