Page 37 of A Roar for Magic

“Naturally.” She caught Romi’s knowing smirk and changed the subject. “So, about these enchanted fortune cookies...”

The conversation shifted to lighter topics, but Clover remained aware of Rook’s warmth beside her, the casual way he’d lean close to murmur commentary in her ear, how their magic wound together so naturally, she could hardly tell where hers ended and his began.

Later, after plans were made to create both real and decoy formulas, after Romi extracted promises to help test her “totally safe and definitely not chaos-inducing” fortune cookie idea, after Xabir paid the bill (dodging Romi’s attempts to sneak magical enhancement charms into the tip), Rook walked Clover back to her car.

The night air carried the scent of moon-blooming jasmine, and fairy lights strung between buildings cast a soft glow overthe parking lot. Their fingers tangled together naturally, and Clover found herself reluctant to let go.

“So,” he murmured, turning to face her. “Still scared of being my mate?”

She considered the question, thinking of how easily they’d worked together, how their magic harmonized, how he could match her snark for snark while still making her feel precious and protected.

“Terrified,” she admitted. “But...” She rose on her tiptoes, pressing a soft kiss to his jaw. “Maybe being scared with you isn’t so bad.”

His free hand cupped her cheek, and the heat in his eyes made her breath catch. “I’ll take it.” He bent to capture her lips in a proper kiss, one that had her magic surging to meet his tiger energy in a display that made nearby streetlamps flare brighter.

A whistle from the restaurant door broke them apart. “Get a room!” Romi called. “Preferably one without magical lighting that responds to make out sessions!”

“Ignore her,” Clover muttered against Rook’s chest.

“Already am.” He pressed another quick kiss to her temple. “Have dinner with me tomorrow. You promised you’d let me cook for you.”

She sighed. “You drive a hard bargain. Okay.”

“It’s not a working dinner, little witch.”

She licked her lips and nodded. “I know.”

“Good. We should probably head back to Weaver’s Botanicals. Those protection formulas won’t make themselves.”

“Right. Formulas. Very important.”

“Crucial, even.”

“Nothing to do with Madame Zephyrine’s advice about spending time together.”

“Pure coincidence.”

Their laughter mingled in the night air as they separated reluctantly. For now, Clover let herself believe that maybe some things really were written in the stars.

TWENTY-TWO

Once again, a rainbow explosion of dresses littered Clover’s bedroom floor, each one rejected. Her magic sparked with increasing frustration, causing several garments to float aimlessly through the air like lost spirits seeking redemption.

“No.” She glared at a flowing green sundress. “Too casual.” A burgundy wrap dress floated past. “Too business lunch.” A sparkly silver number twirled hopefully. “Definitely not. I’d blind him before dessert.”

“Oh, honey.” Romi’s voice carried through the cottage, followed by the distinct sound of her cousin dropping what appeared to be an entire boutique’s worth of shopping bags. “This is worse than I thought.”

“I’m fine,” Clover called back, frantically trying to wrangle her magic into behaving. Three dresses had started an impromptu dance routine near the ceiling. “Everything’s under control.”

“Really?” Romi appeared in the doorway, one eyebrow raised as she surveyed the chaos. “Because your magic has that blue dress doing the cha-cha, and I distinctly remember someone elsehaving a similar crisis before her first date with a certain wolf shifter.”

“That’s different. You and Xabir were clearly meant for each other.”

“And you think you and Rook aren’t?” Romi navigated through the fashion disaster zone to perch on the edge of Clover’s bed. “Miss ‘My Magic Literally Purrs When He Walks Into The Room’?”

Heat crept up Clover’s neck. “It does not purr.”

“Your protection wards get all swoony every time he visits the shop.”

---