The Enchanted Five

Book 1 Chapter 6

Ari closed her bedroom door behind her and leaned against it, exhaling slowly. Dinner had been… a lot. Beautiful, intimidating, awkward, and strangely warm all at once. She kicked off her shoes, crossed the room, and sat on the edge of the bed. The wooden box still sat where she’d left it, the carved patterns catching the firelight. Before she could reach for it, her phone buzzed.

Dad calling.

Ari smiled and answered. “Hey, Dad.”

“Hey, sweetheart. You settled in?”

“Yeah. The castle is… huge. And old. And amazing.” She hesitated. “Dinner was interesting.”

Thomas chuckled softly. “Interesting, good or interesting bad?”

“A mix,” she admitted. “But I’m okay.”

There was a pause, the kind where he was deciding whether to push. He didn’t.

Instead, he said gently, “Did you find the box?”

Ari’s eyes drifted to it. “Yeah. I did. What is it?”

His voice softened. “Things your mother left for you. She told me you’d need them when you returned to Scotland.”

Ari’s breath caught. “Returned?”

“She always believed you’d go back someday,” he said quietly. “Said Scotland would call you home when it was time.”

Ari swallowed hard. “There’s a letter too?”

“Yes. She wrote it before… before she passed. She wanted you to have it when you were ready.”

Ari blinked back the sudden sting in her eyes. “I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“That’s okay,” he said. “There’s no rush. Just know she loved you more than anything.”

“I know,” Ari whispered. They talked a little longer about her flight, the weather, the girls, and the internship until her dad finally said, “Get some rest. Call me tomorrow night.”

“I will. Goodnight, Dad.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

The call ended. Ari sat in silence for a moment, then reached for her phone again.

Group Chat — The Cove Coven

Ari: Made it through dinner. No one died. I’m going to bed. Love you, guys.

Cora: Proud of you

El: Sleep well

Wynter: Dream of Scottish clouds

Cina: If the castle haunts you, text us

Ari smiled, set the phone aside, and crawled under the covers. The room was warm, the fire crackling softly. But the castle…the castle felt awake. Like it was listening, Ari closed her eyes anyway, hoping sleep would come. It didn’t. Not easily. But eventually, exhaustion won, and she drifted off unaware that the wards shimmered faintly around her, reacting to her presence even in sleep.

Bram couldn’t sleep. He’d tried, Gods, he’d tried. He’d paced his room until the floorboards creaked. He’d stared into the fire until the flames blurred. He’d even attempted the breathing exercises Torin insisted “helped regulate the beast.” Nothing worked. His bear was restless, pacing, pushing, and clawing at the inside of his ribs.

Go.

Find her.

Close.

Bram pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “No.” But the castle disagreed. The wards pulsed again, stronger this time, a low, rhythmic thrum that vibrated through the stones. The torches in the hallway flickered. A draft curled under his door like a beckoning hand. It wasn’t calling him. It was calling her. And he hated how instinctively he responded. Before he realized he’d moved, Bram was in the corridor, boots silent on the ancient stone. The castle guided him with subtle shifts of air, faint glimmers of ward‑light, the soft hum of magic he’d spent years trying to ignore. He stopped outside her door. His chest tightened. He shouldn’t be here. He knew that. But the bear inside him settled for the first time all night, pressing forward with a low, content rumble.

Bram exhaled shakily and pushed the door open a crack. Ari slept curled beneath the blankets, her hair spilled across the pillow, the fire casting soft gold across her face. She looked peaceful. Unaware. Entirely human. And those eyes, Eilidh’s eyes, were finally closed, giving him a moment of quiet he didn’t deserve. The bear eased. The wards quieted. The castle sighed. Bram stepped inside before he could stop himself. He didn’t touch her. Didn’t go near the bed. He lowered himself into the chair by the window, muscles unwinding for the first time in hours.

Just being near her calmed him. He hated that. He meant to stay only a moment. But exhaustion crept in, heavy and warm, and before he knew it, his eyes drifted shut.

A soft voice pulled him from sleep. “My lord.” Bram jerked awake, heart slamming against his ribs. Moira stood beside him, hands folded, expression gentle but knowing. “You’ll wake the lass if you startle,” she whispered.

Bram straightened, mortified. “I didn’t mean...”

“I know,” Moira said softly. “The castle brought you. It does that when it chooses.”

He stiffened. “It hasn’t chosen anything.”

Moira’s eyes flicked to Ari, still sleeping peacefully. “If you say so.”

She stepped back, giving him space to leave without waking the girl. Bram rose silently, every instinct torn between retreating and staying. Moira touched his arm lightly. “Go, lad. Before she wakes and asks questions you’re not ready to answer.” Bram hesitated one last moment, looking at Ari at the girl who shouldn’t matter, who couldn’t matter. Then he slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him. The wards hummed again. And Bram knew sleep would never come easily again.