Page 31 of A Roar for Magic

“Good point.” She stepped back reluctantly, immediately missing his warmth. “Though I have to warn you – Madame Zephyrine can be a bit...”

“Eccentric?”

“I was going to say meddlesome, but that works too.”

His laugh wrapped around her like sunshine. “Lead the way, little witch.”

Madame Zephyrine’s shop occupied a corner of Mystical Grove, its windows filled with swirling mists and dancing lights. Even from outside, Clover’s magic picked up the powerful wards layered through the building’s foundations. No one got past those barriers without the seer’s knowledge.

“Last chance to run,” she murmured to Rook as they approached the door.

The door swung open before she could finish the warning. Madame Zephyrine stood in the entrance, resplendent in flowing purple robes embroidered with shifting constellations. Her silver hair caught the ethereal light from the shop’s enchanted lanterns, and her amethyst eyes sparkled with barely contained glee.

“Finally!” She clapped her hands together. “Neve, dear, put on the special tea. Our newest fated pair has arrived.”

Clover groaned. “Does everyone know about this?”

“Oh, darling.” Madame Zephyrine ushered them inside where her twin sister Neve already had cups of something shimmering arranged on a table draped in starlight-infused silk. “We’ve known since the moment you two met. The magical surge nearly knocked over my crystal ball.”

“It did knock over your crystal ball,” Neve corrected mildly, gesturing for them to sit. “Along with three tarot decks and that enchanted wind chime you imported from the fairy realm.”

“Details, details.” Madame Zephyrine waved a bejeweled hand. “The point is your bond practically sang through the ley lines. Even the town’s magical foundations responded. Why do you think the streetlamps outside Spellbound Lights always shine brighter when you’re together?”

Clover sank into a plush armchair, heat creeping up her neck. “I thought that was a power surge.”

“A surge of something, certainly.” Neve’s eyes danced with quiet mischief. “Though not the electrical kind.”

Rook sat beside Clover, close enough that their shoulders brushed. His tiger energy curled protectively around her, and she found herself leaning into his warmth despite her embarrassment.

“The bond between you pulses like a living entity,” Madame Zephyrine observed, sliding teacups across the table. The liquid inside shifted colors. “But someone seeks to destroy it before it fully forms. Drink – this will help clarify things.”

Clover sniffed the tea cautiously. It smelled of starlight and possibilities with undertones of... “Is this my grandmother’s secret recipe?”

“With a few modifications.” Neve smiled. “She always said it helped steady the heart when magic ran high.”

The first sip flooded Clover with warmth, memories of childhood summers spent learning potion-craft in her grandmother’s kitchen. Her magic settled, and she sensed Rook relaxing beside her as the tea worked its calming influence.

“Now then,” Madame Zephyrine leaned forward, her expression turning serious, “the ritual they attempt requires dark magic – corrupted tiger energy twisted against its natural purpose. But such magic can only succeed if the bond remains weak.”

“How do we strengthen it?” Rook’s voice carried that protective rumble that made Clover’s magic hum.

“Time together,” Neve replied. “Allow your magics to intertwine naturally. Work on joint projects. Share meals. Learn each other’s stories.”

“We’ve already got the medicinals for the spa we’re going to work on,” Clover said. “Let’s spend some time and work together on the signature scents at Weaver’s Botanicals. Blend your scientific approach with my magical one.”

“That’s a good start,” Madame Zephyrine beamed. “Especially since you’ll need a secure place to work.”

“Is there anything else we should be doing?” Rook asked.

“Communicate. Talk. Share your histories with each other and deepen that natural link between you. The one trying to break your bond will likely escalate their attacks now that you’re aware of them.”

“Hudson. I’m sure of it,” Rook growled, his hands clenching around his teacup.

“Among others.” Madame Zephyrine’s gaze turned distant. “Dark forces gather, drawn by the power of your potential mating. But remember – together, your magics are far stronger than apart.”

“What she means,” Neve translated with fond exasperation, “is don’t let fear keep you from exploring this connection. The strongest defense against dark magic is genuine emotion freely given.”

Clover caught Rook watching her, his expression soft in a way that made her heart flutter. “I suppose we should get started then,” she managed. “The sooner we create those protection formulas...”

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