Union Bound

2. Adalyn

There’s a time in every student’s life when they despise being one.

And that time is exams. Midterm exams to be exact.

While they’re still months away, university waits for no one, and if I want to stay ahead of my work and not be studying last minute—which is a nightmare to even consider—then I need to begin now. Mom would have my head if I failed, especially on purpose, to avoid my impending future.

My life has already been mapped out for me. A coven’s leadership always passes to daughter or granddaughter, and I’m next up to the cauldron. Which is fine, but thanks to a deal I struck with Mom, I won’t have to rule until I’ve graduated and settled into a job. So, if I fail a class to avoid graduating on time… well, I don’t really want to find out what Mom would do.

But first, I need to get rid of my annoying best friend.

“Addyyy.” Maggie drags out the Y of my name, adding a level of whininess to her tone that compels me to look up from my business textbook and over to her. She’s sprawled on my bed, her phone poised above her head from where it’s draped upside down over the edge of the mattress. “We should go out. Have fun. Cruise for guys.”

Her words tempt me. The next couple of years before graduation is my time, and I did say I’d be doing whatever I want to while I can. I’m still young, and until I have to take charge, I’m going to lead a life free of responsibility.

Because along with impending leadership is an imminent marriage. How I see it is I currently do everything Mom asks of me, even when I don’t care for it, so before I’m sent off to whatever “suitable” witch she finds for me to wed, a girl’s gotta have her fun.

“It’s been a week since we’ve last been out,” Maggie continues, her tone still high-pitched. “I’m horny.”

“TMI, Mags. And it’s Wednesday,” I point out.

“Exactly.” She rolls onto her stomach, propping her chin on waiting hands. Strands from her short, black bob stick up from her movements. “Thursdays, we both don’t have class till the afternoon.”

“Why don’t we go on Friday? I should study for midterms.”

This time, it’s Maggie who rolls her eyes. “Girl, you’re always studying. According to you, midterms were a threat since day one of school.”

“Excuse me for not wanting to fail.”

“Isn’t it tempting to just cast a spell sometimes?” Maggie sighs, her eyes drifting to the side in a wistful expression.

“Sometimes,” I agree. While Maggie’s parents are a lot laxer than mine, even they would be livid to learn she got her degree through magic. It’s the downside of being a young witch. All this magic, and nothing to use it for.

Soon you’ll get more magic.

I swat the voice away, disliking the truth behind it. In a few more years, I’ll get everything Fortuna has. Which is a ton.

Witch covens are most often composed of families, but sometimes multiple bloodlines choose to band together. When covens began to die out, many of those that remained combined, creating Fortuna. Fortuna comprises every witch line known to us, linked together in one way or another—by blood or marriage. The Wildes never joined us, and the Sinclairs lost their magic before they could.

Recent claims say the only Sinclair still alive is back into magic, but who knows.

Which leaves the Wilde family. We know exactly where they are, and now it’s as simple as reaching out to them. My future nameless husband has no idea how lucky he’ll get in a few years when he obtains more magic than he ever likely thought possible.

I’ve often asked Mom why we need every witch line connected to us—why we need so much magic—but her responses are always vague and usually consist of telling me to wait until I take over to learn why, because she wants to keep magic alive as long as possible, or just “because.” In the end, I don’t care all that much. If it keeps the coven content, who am I to fight it?

Unfortunately, the husband is a required addition. Magic is like a living, breathing entity, and with as much as we have, it would easily take me over. I’d be tired and worn out without having someone to share the burden with. I’m not opposed to a union—just the when of it all. Being chained to one person for the rest of my life at my age is a tad limiting.

“Anyhoo,” Maggie’s voice breaks through my thoughts, “back to the topic at hand. You won’t fail. C’mon, Addy, let’s go. Besides, what happened to the whole, ‘Maggie, we’re going out all the time before I’m married off?’”

She’s not wrong, and I grin. “Fine.”

Maggie squeals and is instantly on her feet. She waves her hand and the room fills with glittering magic, before settling on the carpeted floor beneath my feet. Gone are my comfortable joggers and tank, and in its place is a short, black dress. It’s high on the thigh and low on the breasts. My normally straight blonde hair is curled into gentle waves falling down my back.

Maggie really does have good taste.

Across from me, she put herself in a dress similar to mine, only the front dips lower. Her bob is also curled, framing her flawless face. I’ve always been jealous of her smooth skin.

It’s definitely not like mine. I reach up, feeling a lack of spell in place, and with a quick twitch of my fingers, I ensure my magical mask is on. Not a literal mask; just a spell that’ll block humans from seeing the details of my face.

Maggie frowns, her red-painted lips folding downward. She disapproves of the spell because I use it to hide but has learned not to comment on it anymore.

“Ready?” I ask, forcing her attention away from my face.

“Yeah. Wanna tell your mother first?” Her wicked grin replaces the unease on her expression from moments ago.

If Mom knew I went out as often as I do, she’d lock me in a hole in the ground until I graduate. I think she feels the need to be both parents to me because she’s the only one around. But if she didn’t want me to have this freedom, she shouldn’t have agreed to the deal.

“Ha,” I bark, adding to her sarcasm. “Funny, Mags, let’s go.”

I stretch an arm out, waiting for her to take it. Once her fingers interlock into mine, I picture the dim service hallway of our favourite club. Given the time of night, staff are busy at the bar, serving, or standing security, so the hallway is hardly ever used. Keeping a tight grip on Maggie, I transport us there.

Instantly, she begins pulling me down the hallway, bringing us into the thick of the club. Most of the crowd is already jammed on the dance floor. Roving coloured lights dance over everyone and as I stand there for a beat, welcoming the fast-paced music into my body, I smile, my muscles instantly loosening.

Okay, so maybe Maggie is right. Because this is a much better way to spend a night than studying.

I let her lead me toward the bar, where she orders us two shots each. As I tip mine down my throat, feeling the welcome burn, I meet Maggie’s mischievous expression and curl my lips. It won’t be long before drunk Adalyn comes out to play and coursework will be far from my mind.

I scan the crowd, my eyes skipping between the bodies, looking for someone who’s bound to show me a good time.

Sex and me, we have a weird relationship. I know myself, am aware of how even my one-time interactions always result in me thinking about the guy for weeks to come. Not because he’s a pro at s*x or anything, but because my annoying mind tries to create a relationship from it, and there’s zero reason for me to be that attached so soon. For that reason, I’ll typically limit my fun, and tonight, I’m only aiming for some dancing.