*Isla*

Poppy clutches the back of the couch, her freshly manicured fingernails gleaming in the light of the antique chandelier hanging over our heads. I wait to say anything until I hear Ben and Maddox’s footsteps recede down the hallway and out of earshot. Then, I turn to her, sighing as I meet her eyes and ask, “Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” she replies with finality, giving me a soft smile. “I love him, Isla. He loves me. And based on what happened today–” she sighs heavily, her eyes glassy with sudden emotion. “The Goddess has been looking out for us, hasn’t she? She let Mystica give you a...