Page 21 of Love At First Roar
Cora waited at the trail entrance, eyes glinting in filtered sunlight. “Ready?”
Callum forced a calm nod. They walked side by side down the sloping path. Every few steps her elbow brushed his. Each light contact sent sparks racing down to his fingertips, and the lion hummed with agitated longing.
Halfway to town she stumbled on a root. He caught her waist, steadying her against his chest. Her laugh fluttered warm against his collar. “Thanks, ranger. Graceful as ever.”
He eased her upright yet kept one hand on her back a moment longer than necessary. “Watch the ground.” His voice sounded husky even to his own ears.
“I was distracted,” she teased. “Too many trees flirting.”
Trees, broom, the whole darn town, he thought. With effort he dropped his arm and resumed stride. The path widened; rooftops peeked through pines ahead. Hollow Oak awaited, unaware of the buried threat in its woods.
Cora exhaled softly. “Callum… thank you. For believing me.”
He huffed. “Believe your stubbornness, maybe. You would come back alone if I said no.”
She grinned. “True.”
“I’ll report to the Council. Meet you at the inn later.”
She nodded slowly, disappointment flickering briefly before she masked it with a faint smile. “Okay. Later, then.”
Callum watched her walk toward the square, heart thudding unevenly. His lion was growing agitated beneath his skin, growling softly, more insistent now.
Mate. Mate. Mate.
He turned back toward the woods, jaw tight, muscles tense. He wasn’t ready to listen to that word, to acknowledge the way his soul reached toward her every time she smiled or touched him. He’d gone on long enough perfectly fine alone and already had it set in his mind that that’s how it would always be.
But the forest around him whispered it louder, echoing in his bones, relentless and undeniable.
Mate.
11
CORA
“You’re sure about this? I only offered because I thought it would make life easier, but you don’t have to say yes,” Miriam asked, hands on her hips as she gazed around the little cottage. It was nestled near the edge of the woods along the same winding trail Callum walked every day. Miriam’s silver hair caught the sunlight pouring in through the open shutters, her gentle face concerned but warm as always.
Cora spun around slowly, taking in the small space with delighted eyes. Wooden beams arched gently overhead, sturdy and welcoming, while worn floorboards creaked companionably beneath her sandals. The scent of cedar hung faintly in the air, blending sweetly with the lilacs drifting from outside. She inhaled deeply, heart lifting in a way it hadn’t for so long. Gods, it felt good to breathe again.
“It’s perfect,” she declared, grinning wide. Her fingers traced the intricate carvings framing the front window—tiny oak leaves intertwined with vines, so detailed they might burst into bloom if she whispered just the right words.
“I wouldn’t exactly call it perfect,” a familiar deep voice rumbled from the doorway.
Cora turned sharply, pulse jumping. Callum leaned against the doorframe, broad shoulders blocking most of the view outside. His arms were folded, biceps straining against the fabric of his worn work shirt, and his intense blue eyes narrowed in clear disapproval. She ignored the sudden flutter in her chest, tilting her chin defiantly instead.
“Luckily, it’s not your opinion that matters right now,” she quipped lightly.
He grunted softly, eyebrows knitting closer. “You’re gonna be out here alone, right on the trail?”
Miriam stepped forward, lightly patting his arm. “She won’t be alone. You pass here multiple times every day, Callum. I figured if she’s gotta be supervised, this makes it easier for everyone.”
Callum’s gaze shifted sharply to Miriam. “I don’t need easy. I need safe.”
Cora rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, please. The worst thing that could happen is me tripping over a flowerbed. I’m pretty sure the flowers like me here.”
His jaw tightened, and he shook his head, stepping back from Miriam’s touch. “This isn’t a joke, Cora.”
“I never said it was.” She softened slightly, voice gentle. “But I need space, Callum. And I think maybe you do too. Miriam’s right—this is practical.”
