Page 81 of Hex and the Kitty

None of the witches looked surprised. “Of course, you are,” Celeste said as if anything else would be incomprehensible. “Kade’s bringing you an overnight bag. Toothbrush, change of clothes, the essentials.”

Warrick blinked. “How did he know I’d?—“

“Because it’s what he would do,” Celeste explained simply with a knowing smile. “What any of our mates would do. Lark wouldn’t leave Sera’s side when she found out about the triplets. And Reed practically moved into the clinic when Ellie twisted her ankle last month.”

Mates. The word resonated through him, settling into place like a key finding its lock. These women understood—accepted without question—that Molly was his mate, his responsibility, his heart.

“We should go,” Fia suggested, glancing at her watch. “Those nurses won’t stay away much longer, and we shouldn’t all be here when Molly wakes. Too overwhelming.”

The witches gathered their supplies, each pausing to touch Molly’s hand or smooth her hair before heading toward the door. Mari lingered longest, brushing a kiss against her sister’s forehead.

“Call me the moment she wakes,” she instructed Warrick. “And let her know we’ll be bringing breakfast tomorrow. Nothing from the hospital cafeteria for my sister.”

“I will,” he promised. “And...thank you. All of you.”

“That’s what friends do in Whispering Pines,” Briar said simply.

As the door closed behind them, Warrick remained standing beside Molly’s bed, her hand clasped in his. The quiet that fell felt different now—expectant rather than heavy with dread.

Friends. Community. Support without question or condition.

Warrick had wandered for centuries, observing human connections but rarely forming his own. His long lifespan made attachments complicated. Painful, eventually. Better to remain detached, to fulfill his responsibilities without entangling his heart.

Until Molly. Until Whispering Pines.

A single town with its cobblestone streets and small shops had somehow accomplished what three hundred years of existence hadn’t – somewhere to belong. People who understood him—his nature, his responsibilities, his protective instincts. People who didn’t merely tolerate his presence but actively included him in their circle.

This is home, he realized with startling clarity. Not the physical buildings or geography, but this—these connections, these people, this woman.

Movement drew his attention back to the bed. Molly’s eyelids fluttered, her fingers twitching within his grasp.

“Molly?” he whispered, hope clenching his chest.

Her eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light. Those beautiful green eyes, clear now and free from pain, focused on his face. Recognition dawned, followed by relief, followed by—impossibly, wonderfully—a smile that transformed her entire face.

“Warrick,” she murmured, her voice slightly hoarse but unmistakably hers. “You’re here.”

“Always,” he promised, bringing her hand to his cheek. “Always and forever.”

Her smile widened. “Forever is a long time for a tiger-shifter.”

“Not nearly long enough,” he countered, “when it’s with you.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but these were different from the ones at the ball—no confusion or pain shadowed them. Only joy remained, pure and unfiltered.

“The others?” she asked.

“Just left. They healed you.” Warrick’s voice caught. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Nine witches working in perfect harmony.”

“Sounds like quite a show.” Her thumb caressed his cheekbone. “Sorry I missed it.”

A laugh escaped him—half disbelief, half wonder. “You were unconscious from a serious head injury, and you’re apologizing for missing the magical spectacle?”

“Well, when you put it like that...” Her smile turned impish, so quintessentiallyMollythat his heart stuttered.

The weight that had crushed his chest since seeing her crumpled on the community center floor finally lifted. Warrick leaned down, pressing his forehead gently against hers, breathing in her scent, her presence, her life.

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin. “When I saw you hurt, I thought?—“

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