Page 50 of Enchanting the Alpha

Pain knifed through Romi’s chest with each breath. The dark magic had wounded her more deeply than physical blows,tainting her own power with its corruption. She tried to add her strength to Neve’s shield, but the attempt sent daggers of agony shooting through her nerves. Whiskers crooned softly, his magic joining with hers in an attempt to fight off the darkness.

“Don’t strain yourself,” Neve ordered sharply. “Focus on breathing. Let us handle this.”

The assault seemed endless, though it probably lasted only minutes. Finally, Madame Zephyrine’s counter-spell took hold. The dark energy dissipated with an otherworldly shriek, leaving behind the acrid smell of corrupted power.

In the sudden silence, the café door slammed open. Xabir filled the doorway, his powerful frame radiating barely contained fury. His eyes blazed wolf-gold, muscles coiled tightly as he took in her crumpled form. The tendons in his neck strained as his gaze swept over her injuries, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“Romi!” The raw edge in his voice made her heart clench. He crossed the room in three long strides, dropping to his knees beside her. His hands shook as they hovered over her injuries before gathering her carefully against his chest. She could feel the wild thunder of his heart, the slight tremor running through his muscles as he held her. Whiskers landed on his shoulder, crooning worriedly as he nuzzled both their faces.

“I’m okay,” she managed, though the words came out weak and shaky. Her fingers found his hand, drawing comfort from the familiar calluses and warmth. Even injured, she sought his touch instinctively. “The customers-”

“Are all safe, thanks to you.” His arms tightened around her as he buried his face in her hair. She felt the uneven catch in his breathing, the desperate press of his lips against her temple, her cheek, anywhere he could reach. “Stars and moon, I can’t... when I sensed...” His voice cracked. He drew a ragged breaththat seemed to shake his whole body. “I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“The dark magic targeted her specifically,” Neve said quietly. “This was no random attack.”

The growl that rumbled through Xabir’s chest vibrated against Romi’s side. His lips brushed her ear as he whispered fiercely, “I’ll tear apart anyone who tries to hurt you.”

“First, we need to get her home and treated.” Madame Zephyrine produced a small vial filled with swirling golden liquid. “This will help counteract the corruption, but she needs rest for her magic and body to heal.”

“I’ve got her.” Xabir stood in one fluid motion, cradling Romi like she weighed nothing. She curled into his warmth automatically, her head finding that perfect spot between his shoulder and neck where she fit just right. The brush of his lips against her forehead felt as natural as breathing. “Arlo’s already investigating. He’ll coordinate with the enforcers to secure the scene.”

FORTY-EIGHT

“My café-” Romi protested weakly.

“Will be fine,” Clover cut in firmly. “Thane’s on his way. We’ll handle cleanup and keep an eye on things. You focus on healing.”

The trip to her cottage passed in a blur of pain and exhaustion. Xabir’s arms remained steady around her, though she could still feel the slight tremor in his muscles. Whiskers ran ahead, darting back occasionally to check on them, leaving a trail of worried silver sparkles in his wake.

Xabir shouldered open her door without breaking stride, carrying her straight to the bathroom. There, he took all the bits of glass from her clothes and hair. Then he took her into their bedroom - and it was theirs now, had been for weeks, his clothes hanging next to hers in the closet, his books on the nightstand, the sheets carrying their mingled scents.

With infinite gentleness, he settled her on the bed. His eyes never left her face as he asked, “Do you want something from your closet or somewhere else? I still see some small bits of glass on your clothes.”

“Top drawer in my dresser.” She tried to sit up, but the room spun alarmingly. “I can- whoa!”

“Stay still, sweetheart.” The endearment softened his alpha tone, but the worry lines around his eyes deepened. He retrieved her favorite soft sleep clothes, then hesitated. “I can help you. Unless you can you manage?”

“I can manage.” Her cheeks warmed despite everything. “But... stay close?”

“Nothing could get me out of here. I’m just gonna get the potion the elders gave you. I put it on the bathroom counter.” He pressed a soft kiss to her temple before stepping into their adjoining bathroom, leaving the door cracked. “Call if you need help.”

Once she was settled back against their pillows, Xabir returned with the golden potion from Madame Zephyrine and a glass of water. He helped her drink both, his free hand smoothing her hair back from her face with such tender care that tears pricked her eyes. Whiskers settled on her pillow, his tiny form curled protectively near her head.

“Try to rest, my love.” Xabir’s voice roughened with emotion as he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. The gentleness of it, contrasted with the tension still visible in his shoulders, spoke volumes about his fear and relief. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. “I’ll be right here.”

True to his word, he settled onto the loveseat near their bed, pulling out his phone to work remotely. His jaw clenched as he coordinated with his team, voice pitched low to avoid disturbing her.

“What do you mean Bastian’s not in town?” The sharp question caught her attention. Xabir’s fingers tightened on his phone until his knuckles went white. “When did he leave? ...Are you certain? ...No, this changes things. The magic was too powerful for a long-distance attack. Keep digging. Someone targeted her specifically, and I want to know who.”

His gaze kept returning to her between calls, watching the rise and fall of her chest as if to reassure himself she was still breathing. Every few minutes, he’d reach across the space between them to brush her arm or straighten her blanket, small touches that seemed as necessary to him as air.

Romi drifted in and out of consciousness, lulled by the steady murmur of his voice and Whiskers’s soft crooning. When she fully woke hours later, the afternoon sun painted golden stripes across their quilt. Xabir sat exactly where she’d last seen him, though he’d shed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He worked one-handed on his laptop, his other hand stretched across the space between them to maintain contact with her arm.

The dark magic’s corruption had faded to a dull ache, thanks to Madame Zephyrine’s potion. More healing was the sight of Xabir’s quiet vigilance. He’d arranged water, more potions, and her favorite lemon cookies on the bedside table. A notebook near his feet contained what looked like defensive strategies sketched in his precise handwriting.

“Hey.” Her voice came out raspy.

His head snapped up instantly, laptop forgotten. Relief softened the tense lines around his mouth. “Hey, yourself. How do you feel?”

---