Page 24 of Autumn L.A.W

Joell raised a hand. “The house?”

Lioness slapped the table. “Spirit? You mean her Soul?”

Rayna crossed her arms. “As her supervisor⁠—”

Sahara groaned. “Please stop. I want to hear what the wise mage has to say.”

Ezra continued, unfazed. “The ritual must be done tonight.”

Sahara nodded. “What do we need?”

Ezra answered softly, “You. Awake. Present. And unwilling to be claimed.”

A spark passed between them. It was quiet, warm, but impossible to ignore.

Lioness mouthed, “Oh my gods.”

Rayna buried her face in her hands. “Every time. Every. Damn. Time.”

Preparation took two hours.

The mansion tried to help by dragging rugs into place, dimming lights, and nudging chairs, but it also tipped Ezra into a wall before Sahara scolded it.

“House,” she murmured, touching the wood, “he’s helping. Ignore the others.”

The vibration softened.

Ezra stared at her like he wasn’t used to anyone softening anything for him.

Lioness leaned in. “Girl, he is looking at you.”

“Stop,” Sahara whispered.

“I refuse.”

Magda threw herbs in the air, as if blessing the couple after a wedding.

Rayna rolled her eyes. “If anyone flirts during a magical crisis, I swear⁠—”

Ezra raised a brow. “Flirting?”

Sahara nearly died of embarrassment.

At midnight, the ritual circle thrummed. All eight witches were present. Candles flickered with Sahara’s heartbeat. A bowl of salt glowed faintly. A strand of Lioness’s hair floated at the center like a living anchor.

Ezra stepped in last.

The house trembled but permitted him.

“Stay behind me,” Lioness warned.

“I’m not the threat,” Ezra murmured.

“Prove it.”

Sahara lifted her chin. “Both of you. Focus.”

Ezra closed his eyes and began murmuring—not a spell, but something older. Something that sounded like he was coaxing the air into a Gregorian chant.