Page 5 of A Roar for Magic

“That’s enough.” Ilaria’s voice cracked like a whip. “Challenge protocols can wait. Tonight, we acknowledge the truth we’ve all known since William’s passing.” Her eyes met Rook’s again. “You are your father’s son. The pride’s magic runs in your veins. It’s time to stop pretending otherwise.”

The magic she spoke of stirred inside him in response, ancient and powerful. Rook felt it resonating deep inside where human and tiger merged into one. All his careful plans, his corporate strategies, his attempts to escape his heritage... they felt hollow in the face of this primal truth.

He was alpha. Had been since his father died, though he’d refused to acknowledge it. The pride’s magic recognized him even if he’d spent years running from that recognition.

“Well?” Banner murmured beside him. “What’s it going to be?”

Rook looked around the table at his family—at the hope in his mother’s eyes, the pride in Ilaria’s smile, the calculating assessment from Hudson and Justus. His tiger pushed against his consciousness with images of territory, pack, and protection. The beast understood what his human side had denied for too long.

They needed this. The corporate world, for all its challenges, had never fully satisfied their deeper instincts. But it had taught them valuable lessons about leadership, strategy, and the importance of evolution.

Perhaps that had been the point all along.

“I accept,” he said finally, his voice carrying the weight of both man and beast. “But we do this my way. The pride needs to evolve, not just survive.”

“The words of a true alpha,” Ilaria murmured, satisfaction evident in her tone.

Justus stood abruptly. “This isn’t over.”

“No,” Rook agreed, meeting his uncle’s challenging stare. “It’s just beginning.”

His tiger rumbled in agreement. They had returned to Mystic Hollow planning to launch a spa and avoid pride politics. Instead, they’d accepted their birthright and challenged decades of tradition.

And somewhere in this magical town, according to his sister, there was a woman with green eyes and herb magic who might just understand both worlds as well as he did.

ONE

The morning sun streamed through Spellbound Lights’s enchanted windows, painting the polished wooden floors with dancing rainbow prisms. Clover Weaver breathed in the layered scents of her shop—beeswax and herbs, crystallized magic and possibilities. Each inhale centered her, a reminder of everything she’d built here.

“No, no, the energy’s all wrong.” She shifted a Moonlight Meditation candle a fraction of an inch in her signature “Mood Match” pyramid display. The subtle adjustment aligned the magical currents perfectly, creating a soft harmony with the other carefully placed candles. Lavender Dream for peaceful sleep, Mountain Storm for mental clarity, Summer Joy for lifting spirits—each one infused with specific magical properties and arranged to enhance their collective power.

“Clover!” Halle’s voice rang out from the storage room, followed by the sound of boxes being reorganized. “The new shipment of beeswax arrived, but these aren’t singing like the last batch. Not even humming. Should I test them? Please say yes. Last time I got to float for ten whole minutes!”

“Absolutely not.” Clover tucked a loose strand of black hair behind her ear, fighting a smile at her assistant’s boundlessenthusiasm. “No testing without supervision. Have you already forgotten the Valentine’s Day incident?”

Halle’s auburn curls appeared around the doorframe, followed by her bright, freckled face. “That couple needed a push anyway. Now they’re happily married with two kids.”

“They got stuck speaking in rhyming couplets for a week.”

“Romantic couplets!” Halle emerged fully from the storage room. “Besides, Mrs. Heatherbottom said it spiced up their marriage. Apparently, dirty limericks are very?—”

“I’m going to stop you right there.” But Clover couldn’t quite hide her amusement. At twenty-two, Halle brought an infectious joy to the shop that balanced Clover’s more methodical nature. Most days, she appreciated the contrast. Other days... well, at least there hadn’t been any accidental love spells recently.

“Fine, be a spoilsport.” Halle started arranging their new collection of enchanted oil diffusers. “But I still say we should market those romance candles more aggressively. ‘Guaranteed to make your love life more poetic or your money back!’“

“That’s not—” Clover broke off as Poe, her crow familiar, swooped down from his perch near the ceiling to land on her shoulder.

“Customer incoming,” he muttered in her ear, feathers ruffling. “Big one. Tiger energy. And...” he cocked his head, “something else. Power, old power.”

The shop’s brass bell chimed before Clover could respond. The door swung open, bringing a wave of raw energy that made every enchanted item in the shop vibrate. The force of it hit Clover like a physical entity, setting off every magical alarm she possessed. Her hands tightened on the display table as she glanced up.

Oh.

Oh no.

TWO

The man who entered moved like contained lightning, all coiled grace and barely restrained power. His tailored charcoal suit probably cost more than her monthly rent, but it did nothing to hide the powerful build beneath. Blonde hair caught the morning light like polished gold, and his striking features belonged on a magazine cover—if magazine covers featured models who radiated enough untamed magic to make her teeth ache.

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