I have always been perfectly capable. I pay my bills, I have my life together, and I occasionally remember I have a gym membership. Just do not ask me to light a candle with magic, because when it comes to being a witch, I am a dud.

So when my grandmother leaves me a crumbling Victorian mansion and a dusty curiosity shop in Ruby Springs, I arrive with a plan: fix it, sell it, and go back to my very normal, very non-magical life.

Ruby Springs has other ideas.

The water runs red. The town is full of supernatural gossips. Even the cat in my shop has opinions. The longer I stay, the less my magic misfires and the more it feels like it is waking up.

As if my life needed a plot twist, three men step in and are hell-bent on convincing me to stay. A wolf who steadies me. A wizard who insists on helping me understand my magic. A fae historian who looks at me like he already knows the ending to our story. They do not see a failed witch. They see something inevitable.

I came to Ruby Springs believing I was the weakest in my family line. Now I am starting to suspect someone worked very hard to make sure I believed that.

Ruby Springs was supposed to be temporary, but it feels like home, and home is not something you walk away from. It is time to find out exactly what kind of witch I am. Not the worst, but the baddest.