Half a Soul to Love Me Forever

I’ve had the Sight for as long as I can remember.

Born into a matrilineal line of Salem witches, I can pierce the veil of the dead. I see the wandering souls and the lingering traces of magic left behind in the mortal world.

I always assumed this gift was nothing more than my own harmless little secret.

Until the night of our fifth wedding anniversary.

I lit the final taper candle on the long dining table. As the flame flickered, my Sight instinctively slipped open, my gaze drifting toward the deep shadows by the fireplace.

A spirit was huddled there in the dark.

It was my husband—Silas Blackwood.

Ice flooded my veins. What the hell is going on? Is Silas... dead?!

My hands shook as I fumbled for my phone, stumbling back in a frantic rush to dial his number.

But before my thumb could hit the call button—before my lips could even form the words of a banishing spell—

Click.

The front door opened.

Silas strode in, bringing the damp, fresh scent of the rain with him.

"Sorry I'm late, Evie."

My breath caught. If Silas was dead... then who the hell was standing right in front of me, wearing his skin?

Silas shrugged off his overcoat as he strode toward me, opening his arms to pull me into a gentle embrace.

In that moment, I hugged him back on pure instinct.

I squeezed my eyes shut, screaming at myself in my head: He's still alive! My husband is holding me!

But when I opened my eyes... the remnant spirit radiating a faint grayish-blue glow was still huddled in the corner by the fireplace.

It crouched in the shadows, its hollow gaze locked dead onto me and the man holding me.

My heart sank, inch by inch, into a bottomless abyss.

If the soul cowering in the corner was the real Silas... then what the hell was the thing wearing his skin right now?! A shapeshifter? A mind flayer? Or some extremely high-tier dark magic disguise?

My throat felt like it was packed with crushed glass; I couldn't force out a single sound.

"Evie? What's wrong?" Sensing my stiffness, he pulled back slightly to look down at me. His warm hand instinctively moved to check my forehead. "Why are you covered in cold sweat? Did you forget to take your frost-warding potion again? Are you running a fever?"

His eyes brimmed with an overwhelming, genuine concern. I bit down hard on the tip of my tongue, using the sharp sting to force down the tidal wave of panic threatening to drown me.

I couldn't tip him off.

Taking a deep breath, I forced out my usual, everyday smile.

"I'm fine," I said, feigning casualness as I smoothed out my skirt. "Come on, let's eat. I've been slaving away all afternoon and the food's going to get cold."

With that, I pulled out my chair and sat down, cutting a piece of steak and popping it into my mouth. It tasted like ash.

He watched me for a moment, the suspicion in his eyes fading slightly. Walking over, he grabbed a fresh glass and poured me some wine.

"We had a bit of an emergency at the Magic Guild today, which is why I'm late. I'll penalize myself with three glasses to make it up to my beautiful wife." He laughed, raising his glass in a toast.

I kept my tone as casual as possible. "Speaking of drinking... do you remember that Christmas Eve in high school? When you stole a swig from that bottle your dad hid in the basement?"

I stared intently into his eyes.

The hand holding his wine glass paused. Then, he let out a soft chuckle.

"How could I forget?" He shook his head, his eyes soft with affection. "That was my dad's prized Blood Moon Mead. You absolutely insisted on having a taste that night, and nothing I said could stop you. And what happened? Two glasses in, and you were so wasted you couldn't even slur out a basic Shield Charm."

"And then?" The hand gripping my silver fork was trembling.

"And then you threw up!" He let out an exasperated sigh. "You puked all over the brand-new white button-down I'd just bought."

He walked over, reaching out to ruffle my hair out of pure habit.

"When I carried you home, your mom caught wind of that high-tier magical herb scent. She thought I was the one who got you drunk and nearly blasted me off the porch with a Fireball. I obviously wasn't going to throw you under the bus and tell her you were just being greedy, so I just stood there and took the chewing out."

My heart gave a violent lurch. That was a secret. Only the two of us knew about that night.

"What exactly were you wearing?" I pushed, refusing to let it go.