Page 14 of Love At First Roar
They stood there in the quiet, just the two of them and the rustle of wind through the trees.
“You don’t have to like me,” she said. “But don’t pretend this town isn’t already pulling me in. I feel it. I think you do too.”
Callum didn’t reply. He couldn’t. Not with the way his lion pushed toward her, scenting not just the magic but something steadier. Something real. Especially after he had just touched her wrist that way. His lion reacted much stronger than he should have.
He walked beside her as they made their way back toward town. No longer behind. Not quite ahead.
Beside.
7
CORA
The Veil shimmered like a wound. Cora knew that she caused the cracks and she needed to fix it.
Cora stood at the clearing near Moonmirror Lake, hands open, heart pounding, and magic stirring wild under her skin. From the outside, the spot looked like any other stretch of Hollow Oak—moss underfoot, branches swaying, soft hush of wind moving through pine. But she could feel the tear in the fabric of the town. The energy was thin here. Loose.
It crackled across her senses like glass about to break.
"Just breathe," she whispered to herself. She bent slowly, fingers brushing a tangle of mint growing along a root. Its sharp scent steadied her nerves a little.
The morning sun had barely climbed over the treetops, still painting everything in pale gold, but she hadn't slept. Not after what happened with the vines. Something was wrong with the town's magic. Something it wanted her to feel and Callum had been straightforward enough to point it out.
So she slipped out before breakfast, walked until the pull in her gut turned sharp, and stopped where the energy felt worst.
She set down a small satchel and pulled out three stones from her pocket. One smooth and black, one green with a crack like a lightning bolt, and the third, a chunk of raw rose quartz. She placed them in a loose triangle on the ground and stepped into the center.
"Alright, Hollow Oak," she said quietly. "I’m here to help. I don't know if you'll let me. But I’m trying."
Her palms hovered above the stones. She closed her eyes and drew on her enchantress training, letting her magic unfurl like silk. Light shimmered under her skin, soft and pale as dawn. She focused it downward, imagining threads repairing the fabric of the Veil—sewing torn seams, knotting loose edges.
At first, nothing happened.
Then a low hum built beneath her feet, like the town exhaled against her efforts. The stones began to glow, and her magic surged, stronger than she'd expected. The lake behind her trembled. A gust of wind pushed through the clearing.
“Okay,” she whispered, sweat beading at her temples. “That’s good. That’s working.”
But then it twisted.
Something snagged inside her spell, a sharp edge she hadn’t placed there. Her magic backfired, rushing up through her like lightning. The stones shattered.
A blast of energy knocked her back onto the ground, flat on her spine, air punched from her lungs. Her curse snapped awake like a live wire. A burst of black smoke hissed out from her chest, curling into shapes she didn’t recognize, then dissolved with a faint crackle.
Cora tried to sit up. Her limbs shook. The clearing spun. Her breath rasped.
“Not again,” she murmured. “Please.”
Boots thundered against the earth.
“What the hell were you thinking?”
Callum’s voice cracked through the ringing in her ears like thunder splitting a still sky.
She turned her head, blinking hard. He loomed above her, broad and furious, eyes flashing amber. His shirt clung to his chest from a run, biceps flexing as he crouched beside her. The scent filled her lungs, and for one dizzy second, she thought she might cry.
“What are you doing by yourself out here?”
“I was fixing it,” she whispered. “The Veil.”
