Page 9 of A Roar for Magic

Poe landed beside the mark, pecking at it curiously. “Smells like tiger,” he observed. “But not quite right. Something... off about it.”

“Could be residual energy from all that alpha power floating around,” Halle suggested, finally serious. “Or...”

“Or something else entirely.” Clover made a mental note to investigate later when her heart stopped doing backflips every time she recalled a certain pair of gold-flecked eyes. For now, she had a shop to run and order to restore.

But she couldn’t quite shake the feeling that order, in all its forms, had just become much harder to maintain in Mystic Hollow.

Especially with a certain tiger shifter prowling around, breaking displays, and unleashing chaos with nothing more than a smile.

Stars help me, she thought.I am in so much trouble.

FOUR

Rook stood in his office overlooking the town square, staring out over Mystic Hollow’s enchanted village without really seeing it. His tiger paced restlessly beneath his skin, still vibrating from this morning’s encounter at Spellbound Lights. The beast had recognized something in Clover Weaver the moment they’d locked eyes—something that made every instinct roar to life with a primal certainty.

Mate.

“No,” Rook muttered, pressing his forehead against the cool glass. He didn’t have time for mate bonds, not with everything else demanding his attention. But his tiger refused to let the memory fade: Clover’s emerald eyes sparking with irritation as she’d fixed his clumsy mess, that subtle lavender-and-lightning scent that clung to her skin, the way her magic had reached for him despite her obvious wariness...

A knock interrupted his brooding. Banner entered without waiting for a response because best friends apparently didn’t need permission. “You’re thinking about her again.”

“I’m thinking about the pride meeting.”

“Right. And I’m secretly a unicorn shifter.” Banner dropped into one of the leather chairs, propping his feet on Rook’simmaculate desk. “Come on, man. I saw your face when you came back from that shop. Your tiger practically had hearts in his eyes.”

“My tiger needs to focus on more important things.” But even as he said it, the beast rebelled, pushing images of Clover to the forefront of his mind. The graceful way she’d moved between the shelves. The hint of a smile she’d tried to hide when her assistant made a ridiculous comment. The flash of power in her eyes when she’d contained the magical chaos he’d caused...

“Earth to Rook.” Banner’s voice carried equal parts amusement and concern. “The pride meeting starts in twenty minutes. You might want to stop daydreaming about your witch and prepare to face the wolves. Metaphorically speaking.”

Rook straightened his tie, forcing his mind back to business. “Who’s confirmed for attendance?”

“The usual suspects are all assembling,” Banner reported. “The majority of the elders arrived early—they’ve always been loyal to your father. Even elders living at a distance came down from the mountains. Your mother and grandmother are already inside, working the room.” He paused, expression darkening slightly. “And Justus’s old crowd is gathering in the corners, looking shifty. Pun intended.”

“Fantastic.” Rook’s tiger growled at the mention of his uncle’s former allies. “Any word from Hudson?”

“He’ll be there. Looking smug, I’m sure.” Banner’s casual tone hardened slightly. “Lane’s got eyes on him. If he tries anything during the meeting...”

“He won’t. Not openly.” Rook gathered the paperwork for the medical spa project, trying to ignore how the scent of corrupted formulas still clung to the pages from Hudson’s “gift” the day before. “He prefers to work from the shadows.”

“Like a proper villain.” Banner stood, stretching. “Speaking of Lane, he wanted me to ask about the witch?—”

A warning growl escaped before Rook could stop it. His tiger surged forward, bristling at the mere thought of Lane anywhere near Clover.

“Whoa.” Banner held up his hands, grinning. “Down, boy. I’ll tell him to back off. Though you might want to do something about those possessive instincts before the meeting. Hard to look dignified when you’re snarling at anyone who mentions a certain candle shop owner.”

Rook forced his tiger back under control, but the beast’s agitation lingered. Ever since that moment in Spellbound Lights when Clover’s magic had brushed against his, something fundamental had shifted inside him. The same power that made him the pride’s true alpha—the legacy passed down through generations of Katz leaders—now pushed him toward her with equal insistence.

Mine, his tiger insisted.Mine.

“Let’s go.” Rook strode toward the door, his friend falling into step beside him. “Before I do something stupid like go back to that shop.”

The Western Mountain Pride’s grand lodge rose from the heart of Mystic Hollow like a testament to shifter architecture—ancient stone and enchanted wood blending seamlessly with modern elements. Magic hummed through its very foundations, responding to the power of so many shifters gathered in one place. All supernatural groups had their own meeting places, but the pride’s was by far the largest with them being part of the original group who settled Mystic Hollow.

Ilaria waited at the entrance, elegant as ever in a silk suit that somehow managed to look both regal and battle-ready. “There’s my alpha grandson.” She kissed his cheek, then fixed him with that penetrating stare that had terrorized five generations of shifters. “I trust you’re ready to remind everyone why the Katz family has led this pride for centuries?”

“I’m ready to get this over with.”

“Mm.” Her knowing smile suggested she saw right through him. “And how was your visit to Spellbound Lights this morning?”

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