Page 18 of Love At First Roar
They walked side by side down the narrow path, the air rich with pine and damp leaves. Her fingers brushed his once, light as a moth wing. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t lean in either. But he noticed.
His lion noticed too. That was the part that unsettled him most.
Back in town, the lanterns hadn’t yet been lit, but dusk was coming quick. She paused at the bottom of the inn steps, turning toward him.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For not leaving me alone in there.”
He didn’t say anything, but he stood there until she went inside. Then he turned back toward the woods.
Callum didn’t know what came next. And that, more than her magic,, was the thing that kept him pacing.
9
CORA
Cora stood by the window of her room at the Hearth & Hollow Inn, arms wrapped tight around her middle, staring out into the velvet night. Hollow Oak slumbered peacefully beneath a scattering of stars; cottages puffed smoke from their chimneys like gentle snores, and lanterns glowed softly along cobblestone streets. Moonmirror Lake shimmered faintly through the trees, calm and serene as though nothing strange had happened earlier.
But inside, she couldn’t shake the chill that had seeped bone-deep, whispering reminders she wanted desperately to ignore. She pressed her forehead to the cool glass and closed her eyes.
Elric.
His name rose from memory like a shadow crawling up her spine. Cora hadn’t spoken it aloud in months, hadn’t dared to let it slip through her thoughts, but tonight she couldn’t shove it away.
He’d been her mistake—the kind that changed the shape of your life forever. At first, he'd been everything she'd thought she wanted: handsome, charismatic, powerful. But beneath that charm had lain something dark and hungry. He was a warlockwho wielded magic like a knife, precise and ruthless. She’d been young, naive enough to think she’d found a mentor. A guide. Someone who understood her tangled fae magic.
And gods, had he understood it. Too well.
She still remembered the night he'd bound her. They’d stood in his private chamber, the air thick with incense and the scent of burnt herbs, candles flickering as he drew symbols on her palms. She’d trusted him. Thought he would help anchor her unpredictable powers.
But the moment her blood hit the sigil, the pain had flared sharp and hot. The spell had sunk into her veins, twisted around her heart like barbed wire. His voice had whispered in her ear, velvet-lined poison, “Now you belong to me, Cora Thorne. Always.”
She shivered, feeling the phantom trace of his fingertip along her jaw. Even after she’d run, after she'd cut and burned and counter-spelled her skin raw, his claim still lingered. She could feel it sometimes, an ache, subtle but ever-present, a reminder that magic once tied could never be truly undone.
That’s why things kept going wrong. It had to be. Why her spells misfired. Why enchantments cracked and wards turned chaotic. Her blood remembered the binding, rejected freedom as if it were poison. Maybe she wasn’t cursed—maybe she was the curse.
A gentle knock at the door startled her upright, heart kicking hard.
“Cora, dear? I brought tea.”
Miriam. The human innkeeper's voice was soft as worn wool and warm as fresh bread. Cora forced herself to steady her breathing before answering. “Come in.”
Miriam stepped inside carrying a tray, steam drifting from two ceramic mugs. Her silver hair caught the dim lamplight, framing her kind, lined face in a soft glow.
“You looked troubled earlier,” Miriam said gently. She set the tray on a small table beside the bed, poured tea that smelled like lavender and honey, and handed a mug to Cora. “Thought you might want company.”
Cora wrapped her fingers around the mug, warmth sinking into her palms. “Thank you. It's just been a long day.”
Miriam sat at the end of the bed, smoothing her skirt over her knees. Her eyes were sharp, though her voice remained gentle. “Did the Council unsettle you?”
“A little,” Cora admitted softly. “But not as much as my own memories.”
Miriam nodded slowly, sipping her tea. “The past has sharp edges. Especially when it keeps whispering.”
Cora looked up, startled. “How did you?—?”
