“Yeah.”Landon’s grin grew, the first true one in days.“Something that ties us to her.A symbol of what we’re fighting for.We’ll ask her to design it.Ursula, she won’t be able to resist making it perfect.”
Braydon laughed softly.“That’s sneaky, even for you.”
“Not sneaky,” Landon said, standing to refill his mug.“Strategic.It’s an excuse to see her, talk to her, get under her skin until she can’t push us away anymore.”
Colt arched a brow, the corner of his mouth curving.“So, the plan is emotional manipulation with art and charm?”
“Exactly.”
They shared a look, the kind that spoke of shared purpose and brotherly solidarity.The kind that had gotten them through too many battles to count.Landon knew they were all thinking the same thing—Ursula wasn’t easy to win.She was fire and ice, independence wrapped in a spell and a glare that could level a room.But she was also theirs, whether she admitted it yet or not.
“She’s going to fight us,” Braydon said after a moment.
“She’ll try,” Colt agreed.“But I believe that she’s tired of fighting alone.We’ll remind her she doesn’t have to anymore.”
Landon smiled at that, warmth spreading through his chest.“Good.Because I’m done waiting for fate to decide.We’re writing our own story from here.”
The brothers sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping their coffee, listening to the quiet hum of morning life outside the window.The world felt different today—calmer, hopeful.The shadows that had loomed over them for months seemed lighter somehow.
“Do you think she’ll say yes?”Colt asked eventually.
Landon shrugged, though his eyes glinted with certainty.“Eventually.But I’m not asking for a yes today.Today we just show up.We start small—help her clean, bring her food, be there.Then we tell her about the tattoo.”
Braydon grinned.“And then we convince her she belongs with us.”
Landon’s voice softened.“She already does.She just doesn’t know it yet.”
He stood, setting his mug on the counter and looking toward the window where the sun climbed higher.The light hit the faint scar on his arm—the mark of his bond with his brothers, the one that had carried them through hell and back.It wasn’t glowing yet, not like the others’ had, but he knew that when Ursula finally joined them, it would burn gold.Just like Brielle’s.
“Come on,” he said finally.“We’ve got plans to make.And maybe find a decent breakfast before we do.”
Colt chuckled.“Coffee isn’t breakfast?”
“Not when we’re trying to impress a witch who can read our blood pressure from across the room.”
Landon grabbed his jacket, the others following suit.As they stepped into the hallway, the air seemed lighter, the world brighter than it had been in days.For the first time in a long time, hope didn’t feel like a lie.
They were going to fight for her.Not with fists or magic, but with persistence, laughter, and ink.
And when the time came, they’d wear her design on their skin as proof that they were hers.
All three of them.
Together.
****
Sleep had finally claimedher after what felt like an endless night of pain and magic burnout.The apartment was quiet except for the faint hum of protective wards that still glowed faintly along the walls.For the first time in days, Ursula’s body stopped aching—and then the dream came.
She was standing in a vast field of silver light, the air thick with moonfire and mist.The Moon Goddess appeared before her, radiant and calm, her long hair flowing like liquid starlight.The power rolling off her made Ursula’s knees tremble.
“Child,”the Goddess said softly, her voice both distant and intimate, like a whisper inside Ursula’s bones.“It’s almost over.”
Ursula frowned.“Over?What is?”
The Goddess’s silver eyes met hers.“Everything.The war, the balance, the line between what is light and what is shadow.You have always been the strongest of them all, Ursula.Strong enough to heal the world ...or destroy it.”
A chill slid down Ursula’s spine.“Destroy it?I don’t want that.I’m not—”