Updated Apr 13, 2026 • ~7 min read
Chapter 29: Six Months Later
Sage
Six months after defeating the Collector, Sage wakes up to find Oliver gone from bed and faint sounds of movement from the shop below, and she lies there for a moment just feeling content—an emotion she’s gotten significantly better at experiencing without waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Her phone shows it’s barely seven AM, which means Oliver is down there reorganizing his curse-breaking supplies again because apparently that’s his version of meditation, and Sage takes a moment to appreciate how thoroughly her life has changed since a cheerful human walked into her shop and refused to leave.
The bond thrums with Oliver’s contentment—he’s found whatever he was looking for and is now probably making coffee—and Sage finally drags herself out of bed to join him.
The shop looks different than it did six months ago. There’s still the occult section Sage maintains, but now there’s also Oliver’s workspace—professional, organized in ways Sage’s chaos never quite manages—and somehow the combination works, their different approaches complementing each other.
“Thornwood & Reyes” the sign says outside, and Sage still gets a little thrill seeing it every time.
“Morning,” Oliver says when Sage descends the stairs, already offering her coffee prepared exactly how she likes it.
“You’re up early,” Sage observes, accepting the mug and kissing him in greeting.
“Couldn’t sleep,” Oliver admits. “Nervous about tonight.”
Tonight. The joint business celebration slash unofficial engagement party that Rowan insisted on throwing despite both Sage and Oliver protesting that they didn’t need a party.
“It’s just dinner with friends,” Sage says. “Nothing to be nervous about.”
“Your definition of ‘just dinner’ includes three covens, the magical authorities, Detective Rivera, Daniel, and Morgan flying in from New York,” Oliver points out. “That’s more than dinner.”
“Okay, it’s a small gathering,” Sage amends.
“Sage, there are fifty people confirmed,” Oliver says, laughing.
“Fine, it’s a medium gathering,” Sage concedes. “But still nothing to be nervous about.”
Through the bond, she feels Oliver’s actual concern—not about the party itself, but about whether he belongs in these magical spaces, whether the community accepts him as Sage’s partner.
“Hey,” Sage says, setting down her coffee to take his hands. “You belong there. You’re part of this community now. You helped save it. People respect you.”
“I’m human,” Oliver points out.
“And I’m a witch who hated humans until one walked into my shop and charmed me despite my best efforts,” Sage says. “Oliver, you belong because I say you belong. Because we’re partners. Because I love you.”
Through the bond, she feels his worry ease, replaced by warmth and affection.
“I love you too,” Oliver says. “Even when you’re organizing parties I specifically said I didn’t want.”
“That was Rowan,” Sage protests.
“You approved it,” Oliver counters.
“Because she had a point about celebrating milestones,” Sage admits.
The six months have been full of milestones worth celebrating—the shop thriving, their joint business becoming respected in the magical community, Oliver’s curse-breaking gaining recognition, Sage finally working through her trauma with an actual therapist instead of just magical wards, both of them learning to be domestic together without the urgency of life-threatening danger.
And, quietly, Sage’s growing certainty that she wants to marry Oliver—not because of pressure or tradition, but because binding herself to him legally feels like the next natural step after being bonded magically and emotionally.
She hasn’t proposed yet. Neither has he. But they both know it’s coming, can feel it through the bond, are just waiting for the right moment.
Maybe tonight, Sage thinks. Maybe at the party where all their friends and chosen family will be gathered.
“What are you thinking about?” Oliver asks, always able to tell when Sage is contemplating something significant.
“The future,” Sage admits. “Our future.”
“Good future or scary future?” Oliver asks.
“Good future,” Sage says, and she means it. “Really good.”
Through the bond, she feels Oliver’s hope, his love, his own certainty that they’re building something worth celebrating.
They spend the morning working—Sage helping a customer find protective herbs, Oliver breaking a minor curse for a walk-in client—and it’s comfortable, familiar, the rhythm they’ve developed over months of partnership.
Rowan shows up mid-afternoon with decorations for the party, which apparently is happening at the shop because “it’s your space, it should be celebrated in your space,” and Sage watches her apprentice transform the main room with magical lights and flowers and general cheerful energy.
“You’re doing too much,” Sage protests.
“It’s not enough,” Rowan retorts. “You two saved the magical world and then quietly started a business together like it was no big deal. Let me make it a big deal.”
“We didn’t save the magical world,” Sage argues.
“You absolutely did,” Oliver and Rowan say simultaneously.
Sage gives up arguing, because apparently this is happening whether she wants it to or not, and instead focuses on not panicking about being social with fifty people.
“You’ll be fine,” Oliver assures her, reading her anxiety through the bond. “I’ll be right there with you.”
“We’re in this together,” Sage agrees.
“Always,” Oliver confirms.
The party is actually lovely, despite Sage’s reservations—the magical community shows up in force, bringing gifts and congratulations and genuine warmth, and Sage finds herself actually enjoying the celebration instead of just enduring it.
Morgan arrives with flowers and a knowing smile, immediately pulling Sage aside.
“You’re going to propose tonight, aren’t you?” Morgan asks.
“How did you—” Sage starts.
“Please. The bond is practically glowing with intent,” Morgan says. “Also, Oliver’s been looking at you all night like you’re about to give him the best gift ever.”
“Is it too fast?” Sage asks, old insecurity surfacing.
“Six months after almost dying together fighting an immortal entity?” Morgan says. “Sage, you could get married tomorrow and it wouldn’t be too fast. When you know, you know.”
“I know,” Sage admits. “I want to marry him.”
“Then ask him,” Morgan says simply.
Sage doesn’t propose at the party—too many people, too public—but after everyone leaves and it’s just her and Oliver cleaning up, surrounded by evidence of community and celebration, she finds her moment.
“Oliver,” Sage says, and through the bond he feels the importance of what’s coming.
“Yeah?”
“I want to marry you,” Sage says, not quite a proposal but close. “Not someday. Soon. I want to bind myself to you legally like we’re already bound magically and emotionally. I want—”
Oliver kisses her, cutting off her rambling, and when they break apart he’s grinning.
“Is that a yes?” Sage asks.
“That’s a ‘I was going to propose next week but you beat me to it,'” Oliver says, pulling a small box from his pocket.
Sage stares at the box, then at Oliver, then back at the box.
“You were going to propose?” she asks.
“I’ve been carrying this around for two weeks,” Oliver admits, opening it to reveal a ring—simple, elegant, with a stone that glows faintly with protective magic. “I had it enchanted. The magic will alert me if you’re ever in danger.”
“That’s very practical,” Sage says, and her voice cracks because Oliver got her a ring that’s both romantic and functional.
“So, Sage Thornwood,” Oliver says, grinning. “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” Sage says, and through the bond she feels his joy explode like fireworks. “Obviously yes.”
He slides the ring onto her finger, and Sage looks at it—tangible proof that someone wants to bind themselves to her forever—and feels tears threaten.
“I love you,” she says.
“I love you too,” Oliver responds. “My grumpy witch wife-to-be.”
“We’re not married yet,” Sage points out.
“Details,” Oliver says, pulling her into his arms.
They stand there in the aftermath of celebration, surrounded by their shop and their business and their life, and Sage lets herself feel completely, unreservedly happy.
Six months ago, she thought she’d spend the rest of her life alone, isolated, too damaged for love.
Now she’s engaged to a ridiculous optimistic human who sees all her sharp edges and loves her anyway.
Life, Sage decides, is full of surprises.
And for once, she’s okay with that.
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