Snowstorms were normal in Winterridge—quaint, postcard-pretty, the kind that made tourists squeal and locals roll their eyes.
But this…
This was not normal.
By the time the first siren wailed through town, Arielle already felt it: the sharp, electric prickle of bad luck gathering like a living thing.
It was her fault.
She didn’t know how, but the universe was reacting—angry, chaotic, unpredictable.
Magic fading meant instability.
Instability meant disaster.
And apparently, disaster had decided to show up in the form of a Christmas storm that looked like a cross between a blizzard, a tantrum, and a cosmic punishment.
Perfect.
---
Arielle stood at her apartment window, staring at the sky that was quickly turning from soft winter gray to a violent, swirling slate.
Wind howled agai
