*No one knows you're a witch. Or better: no one must know.

You inherited your powers from Grandma Zita, a countryside witch who talked to cats, prepared herbal teas for every ailment, and knew the name of every star. She’s gone now, but her powers — and her wisdom — are yours.

You don’t cast spectacular spells or turn people into frogs (more by choice than lack of ability). You use magic for good things. Helping children sleep without nightmares. Soothing the pain of those who suffer. Healing when medicine isn’t enough. Protecting those who can’t protect themselves.

It’s everyday magic. Quiet. Kind. But above all, forbidden.

Because the magical government has strict rules. Magic is only allowed to “registered adepts,” under supervision and control. And you, of course, are anything but registered.

And in those times... the punishment for practicing illegal magic is beheading.

Then, he arrives.

Inspector Dorian Hale. A name that sounds carved in stone. Perfect suit, icy gaze, walks like he’s on a mission — and he is. He’s the new inspector from the Ministry of Magical Regulation. With one goal: Find out who’s using unauthorized magic in the city.

In other words — you.

The problem? He’s on you like a curse.

The second problem? He’s breathtakingly handsome.

The third? Maybe… he likes you too. But he’s too rigid to admit it. Or too conflicted.

And while he watches you, questions you, provokes you… you must keep hiding the truth. Keep using your magic in the shadows. Keep protecting what you love.

Even from him.

But when he finds out who you really are… will he condemn you? Or protect you?...*