Chapter 7

Too Much to Drink

I didn’t know exactly what I was thinking when I agreed to head downstairs and have a drink with the group. I don’t know why exactly I didn’t tell them I had sworn off alcohol. One drink shouldn’t hurt, right? I had a sip of wine at the Fable two weeks ago, and the taste lingered without the urge to drown myself in it again.

“Shall we start with shots? Lisa? Preference?”

“Oh, sorry. I’m a recovering alcoholic. I really shouldn’t…” I trailed off, the words feeling awkward in the air. My hands fidgeted nervously on the table, like they could escape the weight of the conversation.

“Right, right. No worries. We’ll get you something else,” Wyatt said, ever the smooth talker. “A rum and coke, hold the rum, then. But you’ve got to try the gin we’ve got here. It’s Bluehaven’s finest. I’ll get us a bottle.”

“If you feel uncomfortable at all with the alcohol, you can leave at any time,” Kira added gently. His eyes softened for a moment, the usual hardness in them melting away just a little.

“Thank you.” I gave him a quick smile, one that I could feel was more for reassurance than anything genuine. I hadn’t let myself really relax in front of these people in a long time.

I found myself unconsciously placing a hand on Kira’s lower back when I rose to join them. The touch, though casual, sent a spike of electricity through my veins—magic thrumming beneath my skin, a twinge of something ancient that I couldn't quite place. He looked up at me, the corners of his lips pulling into a signature lopsided grin, before he sat down next to me.

The room seemed to hum around us as I took my seat. It wasn’t just the familiar faces and the chatter of old friends catching up. There was something else in the air, something tangibly different tonight. I didn’t know if it was the magic of Bluehaven itself or something else entirely. But I felt it, deep in my chest, like a pulse beneath the skin.

I looked around the room as the group began talking. With every passing second, they became more carefree, the alcohol loosening their tongues and the tension in their bodies melting away. But for me, the words seemed too sharp, too loud. The nerves lingered like a storm building in my chest.

Kira left earlier than I expected, his goodbyes quick and curt, his eyes flickering to Saxon as he departed. He was trying to keep it together, but I could see the tightness in his jaw, the stiff set of his shoulders. It was as if he was ready to bolt the moment the door closed behind him.

Wyatt eventually slid a glass of gin in front of me, refusing to take no for an answer. I eyed the drink with hesitation.

“Bluehaven gin,” Wyatt said with a grin, “of course, you know. It’s practically a rite of passage here.”

The words were playful, but there was something deep, almost ancient, in the way he said it. The gin was local, yes. But there was more to it than that. This wasn’t just any alcohol. It was imbued with something that felt both comforting and dangerous. A signature of Bluehaven, as elusive as the forest that cradled the town itself.

I hesitated for only a moment before I dunked back the drink. The burn of it wasn’t entirely unpleasant, but it was more than just alcohol—it was like a taste of Bluehaven's magic itself, fiery and foreign, yet strangely familiar.

The group cheered, but something in the air shifted. The magic flared again—stronger, more insistent this time. The room seemed to slow, the space between us thickening. The music faded into a distant hum, and all I could focus on was the pull between us.

"You know, you look familiar," Wyatt mused, breaking the silence.

"I should. We shared a room in uni," I replied, my voice distant. "Though, you were never there fully. Spent most of your time with that green-haired boy."

"Sean. We got married last year," Wyatt said, flashing a gold band on his finger.

I nodded, smiling softly. It seemed like so long ago now. We were the closest during college, before everything unraveled. I wasn’t entirely sure why we had drifted apart. It wasn’t as if we had anything to fight about—sometimes, it was just the way things were.

“I’m going to head back upstairs. Will you be alright?” Saxon offered concern, clouding his gaze. “There’s a room here for you to stay in.”

I nodded, waving to Erin and Wyatt as they made their way out. “I’ll head up as well,” I said, almost automatically.

“I’ll take you to your room if you like,” Saxon suggested, his voice warm, like an old habit I had forgotten. His eyes lingered on me for a moment before he seemed to snap back into the present. “Follow me.”

The hallway seemed longer than I remembered, the walls almost breathing, whispering secrets I couldn’t quite understand. The entire house, the entire casino, felt alive—its magic swirled around us like a cloak, wrapping tighter with each step. I could hear my pulse in my ears, as if it was in rhythm with the house’s heartbeat.

Saxon opened the door to the VIP room, letting me in first. He stood in the doorway for a moment, as if catching his breath, the energy between us crackling with unspoken tension.

“Do you want to come in?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

He hesitated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I took a step closer, my pulse quickening, the space between us narrowing. Then his eyes met mine, and the magic that had been simmering suddenly burst to life. It rushed through my veins like wildfire, electric and raw, filling every inch of me until I couldn’t breathe. His gaze was intense, locked onto mine, and I couldn’t pull away.

Before I even knew what was happening, Saxon’s lips were on mine. His kiss was familiar, like a memory I’d forgotten until now. My hands reached for him, pulling him closer, and for a moment, I thought I might drown in this rush of magic. It was like we had done this before, like our bodies knew the rhythm of each other.

He pressed me back toward the bed, his lips never leaving mine, and when I hit the soft fabric, I gave in, letting the magic take over. His skin—warm, firm, alive—slipped against mine, and I felt every inch of it like a spark lighting the darkest corners of my soul. The world outside the room faded completely. There was only him.

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The tension in the room was palpable as Saxon and I stood there, our gazes locked, the magic swirling between us, thick and undeniable. It felt like something long overdue, like we were both tethered to a past neither of us had fully embraced. The kiss that followed was so familiar, so consuming, like the universe had folded itself around us and all that existed was the pull between us. I couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol, the magic, or something deeper that had triggered it, but it didn’t matter. For the first time in years, it felt right.

But as the moment stretched, I began to feel a pull—a subtle but sharp reminder of who we were, of what had happened. The magic, which had felt like an old friend, now felt more like a force too powerful to be controlled. It was wild, untamed, and it was seeping into every part of me. Saxon, too, seemed to sense the shift in the air. His hands faltered on my skin, and for a moment, his eyes lost their intensity, his expression unreadable.

I pulled back just enough to catch my breath, my pulse still racing, but now there was a question in the air. Something unspoken, something I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer to.

“What’s happening?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Saxon’s eyes flickered, guilt and something else passing through them. “I don’t know, Louise. I really don’t know anymore.” His words were strained, like he was fighting something, fighting me, or maybe himself. He stepped back, breaking the connection between us, and the air in the room seemed to shift—less charged, more distant.

My mind was spinning. The magic that had felt like a comfort now felt like a chain, pulling me deeper into something I wasn’t prepared for. And Saxon—he was always a mystery, a person who had been there and then wasn’t, a presence that seemed to fade in and out of my life like a dream I couldn’t quite remember.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair as if to shake off the moment. “It was a mistake.”

I felt a pang in my chest. “Was it?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, and as soon as I said it, I regretted it. But there it was, hanging between us. Was it a mistake? Or was it something else? Something deeper that neither of us could put into words.

Saxon didn’t answer. Instead, he stepped toward the door, his back turned to me. “I should go,” he said quietly, and I could hear the finality in his voice. The tension in the air was gone, replaced by an uncomfortable silence that felt like a wall between us.

“Okay,” I whispered, though I wasn’t sure what I was agreeing to. I wasn’t ready for him to leave. But I wasn’t ready for any of this. Not the kiss, not the magic, not the past that was dragging me back into Bluehaven.

When the door clicked shut behind him, I collapsed onto the bed, my mind racing. What had just happened? I could still feel the heat of his lips on mine, still taste the lingering remnants of the magic in the air. And yet, the question loomed larger than ever—was I really ready to return to this world, to face the people and the magic I had abandoned so long ago?

I didn’t have the answers. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know them.

____________________________________________________________________________________

I lay there in the dim room, the weight of the silence pressing down on me. My heart was still racing, but now it was a confused mess of emotions. What had happened between Saxon and me? The kiss—the magic—it had felt so familiar, yet so charged with an energy I couldn’t understand. I buried my face in my hands, trying to make sense of it all.

Minutes passed, stretching into eternity. The stillness was deafening, but my thoughts raced. My pulse was still heavy in my ears, the sensation of his touch lingering like an electric current under my skin. I couldn’t shake it off. It was like a dream I couldn’t wake up from, the kind where the lines between what was real and what wasn’t blurred beyond recognition.

Just as I was about to get up and pace the room, the door creaked open again. I froze, my breath catching in my throat. I didn’t need to look to know it was him. Saxon. The air shifted with his presence, thick with an unspoken apology.

“I made a mistake,” his voice was low, heavy with regret, like he was fighting the words as he spoke them. He stood in the doorway, his eyes searching mine for some kind of confirmation, a sign that I hadn’t completely closed off from him.

I didn’t say anything at first. Part of me wanted to be angry, to call him out for leaving, for making everything feel so complicated. But there was a part of me—one I couldn’t deny—that was relieved he’d come back. The air between us felt charged again, like a spark on the verge of becoming a flame.

Saxon stepped into the room, the door clicking softly behind him as he moved closer. He didn’t seem to care about the distance between us now. He was back, and there was something in his gaze that told me this wasn’t just about a kiss anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, the words sincere, but tinged with the same uncertainty that had filled the air when he first kissed me. He came to a stop in front of me, his hand hesitating by his side before he reached out to touch my arm. The contact was gentle, tentative, like he wasn’t sure if I would pull away or if I’d let him in again.

“I didn’t mean to make things… complicated,” he continued, his voice rough, his usual confidence faltering in the quiet. “But the moment I walked out, I knew it was wrong. I shouldn't have left.”

I stared at him, trying to make sense of everything. The magic, the kiss, the way he looked at me—it was all too much to process in one breath. My chest tightened as I considered the choices we had, the paths laid out before us, neither of them easy.

“Why did you leave in the first place?” The question slipped out before I could stop it. I couldn’t help myself. There was something I needed to know, something deeper than the magic or the kiss.

Saxon’s eyes dropped for a moment, and when they met mine again, there was a vulnerability in them I hadn’t seen before. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought it was better to leave it at that—to leave you at that.” His voice cracked slightly, but he quickly regained composure, his hand still resting lightly on my arm. “I didn’t think I could give you what you needed. I didn’t want to drag you back into all of this”—he gestured vaguely, as if to encompass the magic, the town, the people that had always been a part of our shared history. “But walking away from you—leaving you alone in this mess—it doesn’t feel like the right choice anymore.”

I swallowed hard. His words, his honesty, seemed to unlock something in me. There was a part of me, deep down, that had been hoping for this moment—for him to come back and say exactly what he just had. That he hadn’t just disappeared, like so many things in Bluehaven had. That he still cared, still remembered what we had.

But I couldn’t ignore the other side—the part of me that still felt the sting of being left behind, of the years that had passed since we had last been close.

“You don’t get to just come back like nothing happened,” I said, my voice more steady than I felt. “I need to know why I should believe you. Why should I let you back in?”

Saxon’s gaze softened, his hand gently squeezing my arm. “I can’t undo what’s happened. But I can be here now. And if you’ll have me, I’ll be here when you need me. I’m not walking away again.”

The sincerity in his words caught me off guard, and for a moment, I could almost forget about everything else—the magic, the chaos, the unanswered questions that had been hanging between us for years.

But then, as quickly as the warmth of his words wrapped around me, I felt that familiar weight of uncertainty. Could I trust him again? Was it even possible to return to what we had? Or were we both caught in some sort of magic we couldn’t control, unable to escape the pull of a past neither of us was ready to let go of?

“You don’t have to do anything right now,” Saxon continued, sensing my hesitation. “We don’t have to fix everything in one night. But I want to try, if you do.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting his words sink in. The magic around us was still there, thrumming under my skin, and the pull between us was stronger than ever. The decision wasn’t an easy one. It never was.

But something inside me—the part of me that had been waiting for this moment—whispered that maybe, just maybe, I should take the leap.