Chapter 60
Ellie's POV
"This is going to be so cool," Lily said, leaning forward eagerly. "Megan's readings are literally scary accurate sometimes."
"They're just for fun," Megan said, but something in her tone suggested she didn't entirely believe that. "A way to clear our heads, you know? Let the universe speak or whatever." She began spreading a deep purple silk cloth across the table. "Especially on a night like this."
I watched, fascinated despite myself, as she pulled a small lavender candle from her bag and lit it. The flame cast dancing shadows across the ancient cards as she laid them out.
"Halloween is when the veil between worlds is thinnest," Megan said, her voice taking on an almost ritualistic quality. "If there was ever a night for the cards to tell truth instead of possibility, it's tonight."
"Come on, it's just for fun," Ryan said, though he looked intrigued. "Who wants to go first?"
"I'll do it." Jake grinned, already reaching for the deck. "Let me show you amateurs how it's done."
He shuffled with exaggerated flair, then dramatically closed his eyes before drawing a card. The Knight of Cups smiled up at us, a young man on a white horse offering a golden chalice.
Megan studied the card in the candlelight, her expression thoughtful. "Knight of Cups, upright. That's interesting, Jake. This is about romantic opportunities—someone might be about to make their feelings known to you. But be careful." She tapped the card. "This knight can be impulsive. Make sure you really know someone before you dive in headfirst."
Jake laughed, but I noticed a faint flush creeping up his neck. "Please tell me it won't be as awkward as last time. I still have nightmares about that rejection."
The table erupted in good-natured laughter, and some of the tension from earlier dissolved. Even Jackson's rigid posture relaxed slightly.
"My turn," Ryan said, shuffling the cards with surprising care. When he drew, the Ace of Wands appeared, a hand emerging from clouds to grasp a flowering staff.
"Oh wow." Megan's eyes widened. "This is a really powerful card, Ryan. Ace of Wands is about new beginnings, breakthrough opportunities. Something big is coming your way—could be related to competitions, leadership positions, maybe a project that could change your trajectory."
"Actually, my medical school advisor just approached me about an exchange program," Ryan said, his tone casual but his expression thoughtful. "Six months at Johns Hopkins—incredible research opportunity, working with some of the top physicians in the country. But it would mean leaving campus for the entire spring semester."
He said it casually, but I caught the quick glance he threw at Lily. Something flickered in his eyes—guilt? Anticipation? Both?
"That sounds amazing," Lily said, forcing a smile. But I noticed her smile didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Who's next?" Megan asked, already reshuffling the deck.
Lily raised her hand tentatively. "I guess I'll go."
She shuffled carefully, closing her eyes for a moment before drawing. When she flipped the card over, I heard Grace's sharp intake of breath.
The Three of Swords. Three blades piercing a red heart against storm clouds.
The temperature at the table seemed to drop. Megan's smile vanished, and for at least five seconds, nobody spoke.
"Oh," Megan said softly.
"That's... not good, is it?" Lily's voice was barely a whisper, her fingers white-knuckled around her coffee cup.
Megan chose her words carefully. "The Three of Swords represents heartbreak, separation, or a relationship facing a major test. But—" she added quickly, seeing Lily's face go pale, "—it can also mean necessary pain for growth. Sometimes we have to go through difficult periods to come out stronger. And separation doesn't have to be permanent."
"Right," Lily said, forcing a laugh that sounded brittle. "It's probably just, like, stress from finals or something. Maybe we'll have to study separately. That's separation, right?"
But her hands were shaking as she set down her cup, and I noticed Ryan staring at his own card—that Ace of Wands, opportunity and ambition—with a complicated expression.
Megan's gaze flicked to Ryan and lingered there for two, three seconds. Something passed between them, some understanding I couldn't quite grasp. Ryan noticed the look and his jaw tightened, his face clouding with what looked like guilt.
"It's just cards," I said quickly. "I mean, they're for entertainment, right Megan?"
"Right," Megan agreed. "The future isn't set in stone. The cards show possibilities, not certainties."
"My turn," I said, as some perverse curiosity drove me forward. After everything tonight—Lucas's jealousy, Samantha's attack, the constant ache in my arm—I wanted to know what the universe thought my future held.
The cards felt warm, almost alive beneath my touch. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and drew.
The Lovers stared back at me, rendered in bold medieval strokes—a man and woman beneath an angel's benediction, the Tree of Life and Knowledge rising behind them. The card sat at a slight tilt, catching the candlelight at an odd angle.
Megan went completely still.
I watched her stare at the card for what felt like an eternity, her fingers tracing the gilded edges. "This angle," she murmured. "It's rare. Very specific."
She looked up at me, then her gaze slid past me to Jackson, so quickly I almost missed it. But I felt the weight of that glance, the assessment in her eyes.
"Ellie." Her voice took on that serious, almost otherworldly quality again. "This is an incredibly positive card. The Lovers, upright, means a significant romantic connection is developing or about to fully manifest. But this angle—" She leaned closer, studying the card intently. "This suggests something deeper than surface compatibility."
My heart started pounding, loud enough that I worried everyone could hear it.
"Your person," Megan continued, choosing each word with deliberate care, "shares something fundamental with you. Not just common interests or values—I'm talking about essential similarity. Soul-level resonance." She paused, her dark eyes boring into mine. "Like you're two of the same kind, recognizing each other instinctively."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
Two of the same kind.
My heart kicked into overdrive, the rhythm so violent I could feel it in my throat. The café sounds—clinking cups, murmured conversations, soft jazz from the speakers—faded to white noise. A ringing started in my ears.
And I turned—God help me, I couldn't stop myself—I turned and looked directly at Jackson.
What if we're both—
The thought crystallized with terrifying clarity: What if Jackson is a werewolf too?