Rowan Hale did not believe in magic.
He didn't believe in destiny.
He didn't believe in miracles.
And he definitely didn't believe in Christmas.
He believed in cold, quiet nights.
He believed in keeping people at arm's length.
And he believed that the universe had a sick sense of humor—especially now.
A charm that glowed in a stranger's hands?
That pulsed when he touched her?
That pointed down a street like some enchanted GPS?
No. Absolutely not. He refused to participate.
Unfortunately, fate did not care what Rowan Hale refused.
Because the charm tugged again, pulling Maya forward with a soft golden glow, and Rowan found himself stepping in front of her without thinking.
"Careful," he said.
Maya blinked up at him, cheeks red from the cold. "It's pulling again."
"I see that," Rowan muttered, glaring at the charm as if intimidation worked on magical objects. It did not.
"If this thing drags me into traffic, promise you'll tell the police I didn't jump," Maya sighed.
A tiny puff of laughter escaped Rowan before he could stop it.
He froze.
He hadn't laughed—actually laughed—in months.
Maya blinked at him. "Did you just—?"
"No," Rowan snapped too quickly.
"O-kay," she said slowly, "you totally did."
"Did not."
"Did too."
"I don't laugh," Rowan said firmly.
"You just did."
He scowled at her, and she smiled right back—bright, warm, and unbearably hopeful.
Dangerous girl.
He turned away. "Let's just follow this thing before it burns a hole through your hand."
Maya shoved her free hand into her coat pocket and walked beside him as the charm glowed a warm gold, leading them down Main Street. Holiday lights twinkled along storefronts, children ran around with candy canes, and a group of carolers began singing Silent Night.
Rowan's jaw tightened.
Of all nights… why did magic pick this one?
Maya noticed his discomfort. "You really hate Christmas, huh?"
"That obvious?"
"You look like someone force-fed you a gingerbread house."
He didn't respond.
Maya bit her lip. "Is it… personal?"
Rowan stopped walking.
The charm pulsed again, but he ignored it.
"Christmas isn't… good for everyone," he said quietly.
"Oh." Maya's voice softened. "I get that."
"You do?"
She nodded. "My Christmases are always a disaster. Like, every year something horrible happens."
Rowan studied her—really looked at her—for the first time.
Messy hair from the wind.
Cocoa stains on her coat.
Snowflakes melted on her lashes.
She looked like a person who'd been fighting the universe her whole life and still tried to smile anyway.
"Maybe," Rowan said slowly, "your luck isn't bad. Maybe the universe is just… confused."
Maya blinked. "Is that supposed to be encouraging?"
"No," he muttered. "I'm not good at encouragement."
"Well… thanks anyway."
The charm tugged harder this time.
Rowan groaned. "Where is this thing taking us?"
Maya squinted at it. "Um… somewhere to the left… maybe?"
The charm pulsed again, brighter and warmer.
Rowan stiffened. "Why does it do that every time I get close to you?"
"Maybe it's broken," Maya offered.
"Or cursed."
"Or magical."
Rowan shot her a look. "I told you—I don't do magic."
"And I don't do glowing charms, but here we are."
The charm suddenly jerked out of Maya's hand.
"Hey!" she yelped.
Rowan grabbed her wrist again on instinct—
The charm glowed bright gold—
And the ground beneath them shimmered faintly as if responding to their combined touch.
Rowan pulled his hand away fast.
"Stop touching me," he muttered.
"You're the one who keeps grabbing me!"
"You keep almost falling!"
"Well, that's not my fault—my feet don't listen to me!"
Rowan huffed, annoyed but… amused. Why? Why was he amused?
The charm pulsed again, impatient.
"Fine," Rowan sighed. "Let's get this over with."
They followed the glowing trail through winding streets until they reached a small, quiet part of town—an area Rowan knew well.
Too well.
The charm dimmed as they approached an old wooden bridge covered in snow.
Maya shivered. "Why did it bring us here?"
Rowan's throat tightened.
He knew why.
He knew exactly why.
"This place…" Maya whispered. "Does it mean something to you?"
Rowan didn't answer.
But his silence was enough.
The air around them grew heavy, as if the snow itself held its breath.
Maya stepped closer—not touching him, just near enough for him to feel her warmth.
"I'm sorry," she said softly. "I didn't know."
"It's fine." His voice sounded strained. Rough. "It was a long time ago."
The charm glowed faintly in Maya's hand—
Soft. Gentle.
Not pulling anymore.
Almost… comforting.
Rowan swallowed hard.
"This bridge," he said quietly, "is where everything changed for me."
Maya waited. Patient. Calm. Not pushing him. Just… being there.
Rowan exhaled slowly.
"It happened on Christmas Eve."
Maya's breath caught.
Rowan continued, voice barely above a whisper:
"I lost someone here."
Silence.
Snowflakes drifted down like fragile ghosts.
Maya's heart squeezed painfully. "Rowan…"
He shook his head. "Don't. It's not—" His voice cracked for a second. He shut it down violently. "It doesn't matter now."
"It does," Maya said gently. "It matters because it hurt you."
Rowan felt something in his chest shift—dangerously.
He wasn't used to people being soft with him.
He wasn't used to kindness that didn't demand anything in return.
He wasn't used to someone seeing his pain without flinching.
The charm warmed again—stronger.
Rowan stepped back immediately. "Don't."
"Don't what?"
"Don't look at me like that."
"I'm just—"
"Don't."
Maya's eyes softened. "I'm not judging you."
"You should."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want this," Rowan snapped, motioning at the glowing charm. "I don't want fate or magic or destiny. I don't want—"
He stopped.
Maya waited.
Rowan clenched his fists. "I don't want to care."
Maya's breath hitched softly.
The charm glowed brighter.
"Maya," Rowan said tightly, "if this thing reacts to emotion, then we need to… stop interacting."
"But it chose us," Maya protested. "Can we really ignore that?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"By pretending none of this ever happened."
Maya blinked. "…But we're literally standing on a glowing trail of magic."
"Ignore it," Rowan said stubbornly.
"You can't ignore glowing magic!"
"I'm doing it right now."
Maya threw up her hands. "You are impossible!"
"And you talk too much."
"And you don't talk enough!"
"And you're clumsy."
"And you're rude!"
The charm pulsed again—hard enough to make both of them jump.
Rowan stared at it in disbelief. "Is it… reacting to us arguing?"
The charm glowed brighter—almost excited.
Maya gasped. "It likes drama."
"Great," Rowan muttered. "Just what I needed. A magical object with terrible taste."
Then, suddenly—
The charm shot upward, bursting into a shower of golden sparks.
Maya and Rowan shielded their eyes.
When the light faded, the charm hovered between them, glowing steadily.
A single word appeared as glowing letters in the air:
FOLLOW
Maya gulped. "We're not done."
Rowan closed his eyes in frustration. "I was afraid of that."
The charm drifted ahead, waiting.
Maya looked at Rowan.
Rowan looked at the charm.
Snow fell around them, silent and heavy.
Maya whispered, "Are you coming?"
Rowan hesitated—
Longer than he ever had in his life.
Then, quietly, painfully, reluctantly:
"…Yes."
And the charm glowed warm gold—
As if fate itself smiled.