Pumpkin Spice & Poltergeist (Maple Hollow #1)

Jordyn and I rose and slid the engagement rings onto each other’s fingers.

“I love you,” I said, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I love you too.” She brushed a kiss on my lips. “Fiancée.”

“I like the sound of that.” I smiled against her mouth, my laughter interrupting our kisses. “Are you sure you didn’t put a love spell on me? Because I love you more than I ever thought was possible. I love you like it’s magic.”

Jordyn shook her head and kissed me again. “You’re more stubborn than my magic.”

I tugged her close to my side, where she would always belong.

36

JORDYN

TEN MONTHS LATER

Tonight was Halloween. Our town’s most important traditions would be celebrated in the square for all eyes to see. But in the small temple at the edge of the haunted woods, I was marrying the woman of my dreams.

“It’s almost time,” Iris announced, her face tilted up to the glass ceiling. Her red locks had been whisked up into a nest of braids and curls, and the sigils of our coven stretched across her forehead in gold paint that looked like a crown.

We’d talked so many times as girls about officiating each other’s weddings, but I’d never thought this day would come. Now that it was really happening, I knew my best friend would tie my and Harlow’s bond extra tight.

“You look beautiful.” My mother gripped my hand in hers, a quick squeeze before my grandmother pulled me in for a hug.

“Harlow is lovely,” Grandma whispered. “You’ve found someone just as special as you, my darling. I think some magic runs in her veins. There’s a perfect spark of mischief to her.”

I smiled through welling eyes. That was one of the highest compliments a coven elder could give.

All day, all I’d been able to think about were the beautiful little moments that Harlow had made into memories. Our first trip outside of Maple Hollow, or getting caught in a downpour when we’d been scavenging for mushrooms in the forest, or that time we’d gotten locked in this very moon temple all night long. Each time had ended with us making love in a new, forbidden place that had made us giggle every time we’d reminisced about it. With anyone else, these were passing incidents, but with Harlow, they were sacred adventures, the things we’d explored both within the world and within each other.

The moon was smiling down on us, not full yet but still heavy with light and energy. Our coven respected the moon and drew power from its blessings each month, but on All Hallows’ Eve, the veil between the planes of the living and the dead was thinner than ever. The ancestors of our coven could bear witness to our union, which would solidify Harlow’s place in my world. She was one of ours now.

Merging human and witch traditions wasn’t difficult. Harlow embraced each practice and never questioned our superstitions—even when it meant blessing every doorway with cinnamon each month or placing stones in the garden to help the plants grow. And since Harlow would now be my wife, the townspeople could never question her residence in Maple Hollow again.

“Places, everyone.” My mother guided us through the door of the blessing room and into the large, open ritual space.

Every member of our coven had gathered with their hands clasped to create a large circle of blessing around the room. They rhythmically hummed in unison as we approached the small break of hands that led to a candle-lined aisle. Crystals and even more candles dotted the middle of the sacred space. My mother and grandmother each kissed my cheek before stepping back to join hands and complete the circle behind me.

Waiting just inside the line of salt was Iris. With misty eyes and a bright smile on her face, she took my hand and led me down the walk to our positions at the center. I took a deep breath and wrung my hands, the nerves finally catching up to me.

The glass doors on the other side of the room opened and Willow stepped through. Her pretty, knee-length purple dress hugged her hips and dipped low on her chest. I couldn’t help my smile at seeing my soon-to-be sister-in-law dressed up in anything but her work clothes. She beamed at me then looked over her shoulder.

My heart pounded louder and louder as Harlow stepped into the candlelight. Her eyes locked on mine, and a hoard of butterflies took flight in my gut. She was perfect. Her linen pants and shirt gave her a soft, ethereal silhouette. She’d wanted to grow her hair so we could braid flowers at the crown of her head, and each one made her look like an otherworldly beauty—part god, part goddess, and entirely perfect.

Willow waited until a new round of humming from the coven started before she led Harlow up the aisle. Like before, members of the coven filled in the ring so it was complete. A thin veil of white energy flowed overhead, and I felt the familiar essence of those who had passed on come to witness our souls bonding.

I took Harlow’s hands in mine. The warmth of her fingers anchored me in place.

“Dilectus, junctus, ligatus,” Iris said, and the coven repeated after her. “Pro arca, pro sanguine, pro magicis.”

A burst of tiny firefly-like lights danced in the air above us, a sign that our love was being blessed by those who had come before us.

“Harlow.” Iris turned her attention to her. “Do you accept this bond and love from now until your spirit joins the ever after?”

“And so much longer,” Harlow answered. My chest tightened with emotion.

“Good answer,” Iris whispered. “Jordyn, do you accept this bond and love from now until your spirit joins the ever after?”