Page 23 of King of Moon and Claws

Elora breathed in deeply, finding it difficult to not focus hard. She looked at the back of the witch’s head as she had initially.

Then, thoughts, as clear as any voice spoke in a hollow space.

The walls in here are too boring. They need some color. Purple.

“You don’t like the walls,” Elora said boldly. “You believe purple is better.”

When the witch turned back, she was utterly elated.

“Astounding.”

Serife then picked up the mug before her and drank what remained. She placed it down overzealously, clinking against the saucer. She then pushed it toward the edge of the table and stood. She crouched at the end of the coffee table, speaking softly, her hands cupped together like a religious offering.

“Now, get me to push the mug off the table.”

A part of Elora was uncertain, more concerned about the cost of the dinnerware, but the king remained silent. It both impressed and irked her.

“Don’t wait, Elora. You are more powerful than you have ever imagined. Trust yourself.”

Elora believed her, the words chanted within the deepest wells of her soul.

She narrowed her eyes at the golden-rimmed mug, then at Serife's hands. She imagined it first, painting the image vividly in her mind, then breathed life into it like entwining atoms together in free form.

Serife's hand rose into the air like Elora was pulling the strings, then proceeded to knock the mug from the table. Elora then controlled the opposing hand to stay in the same cupped position and caught the mug before it descended to the hardwood flooring.

The witch shot her eyes back at Elora. That time, Elora was smiling and began to giggle with delirious joy.

“Extraordinary!” Serife said, fisting the mug in her hand and tossing it haphazardly onto the couch. “I could feel you strongly pushing me. It was aggressive, but you will learn to balance it. I can train you if the king sees fit.”

Elora finally gave Bastian a look. He seemed pleased in his subdued, imperial way.

“If Elora wishes it,” he responded.

Elora was over the moon with delight. She had found her people in the most unpredictable place, the Kingdom of the Wolf.

FOURTEEN

BASTIAN

Bastian sat marveling at the woman who was his mate. He stirred the entire time Serife encouraged her, the ambassador appearing rather taken by the blonde, inexperienced witch. A pang of envy struck him. The presence of his wolf was palpable, but he managed to work through it.

He thanked the witch ambassador for her council, and they made plans to start Elora’s training in the witch kingdom. He and his mate escorted the witch from the castle, then once the doors closed, he spun around to Elora.

“Would you like to walk through the gardens with me?"

She stood there, adorable in her emerald tunic, gray eyes shimmering with promise. She nodded but appeared somewhat hesitant.

“I would love to,” she said.

It was only noon when the witch came to visit, and a good two hours had floated by. The sun was bright and high in the glistening sky. Bastian led Elora out the back doors and into the gardens, which were vast and concealed behind an iron gate.

“We keep our most rare plants and vegetables in the kingdom here,” he said, pulling at the gate. “You’ll be privy to quite a few exceptional sights and revelations between these walls.”

Elora ducked under his arm as he held the gate open, which was grown over in wisteria, blooming in stunning vivid purple flowers that hung idly in long clusters. She appeared intrigued to him, but still not completely open.

He feared he may have done some damage by raising his voice to her and committing her to imprisonment. It wasn’t thoughtful on his behalf.

Plus, the way she had utterly beamed at the presence of the witch ambassador and her exhilaration at the extensions of her abilities made his heart feel like it was being pulled at the thread.

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