Page 29 of Love At First Roar
He took out chalk, drawing a temporary ward circle around the stone while murmuring an old lion-shifter chant. Golden light flared along the lines, locking the malicious rune in place.
“That will hold a day,” he said, rising. “Long enough for Edgar to brew stronger seals.”
Cora reached out, fingertips brushing his wrist. “Thank you.”
Simple words, soft and genuine. They sank deeper than they should have. He covered her hand with his, letting the warmth anchor him. The forest hushed, leaves stilling as if listening.
Mate.
The lion’s voice thundered behind his heartbeat. He stepped back, breaking contact, and picked up the trail toward Moonmirror Lake.
She walked at his side. Silence settled, gentle but charged. He caught her humming again, quieter now. The tune slipped pasthis guard, loosening knots tied tight since Tessa’s death. His lips curved before he could stop them.
Her head tilted. “Did you just smile?”
“Hardly,” he scoffed.
“Looked like a smile.”
“It was a grimace.”
She laughed, eyes bright with triumph. Something inside him cracked, and a low chuckle escaped.
They reached the lake as sunset spilled rose gold across the water. Fireflies blinked in the reeds; damp earth carried a hint of rain.
Cora sighed, stretching her arms. “I love this spot.”
He watched her silhouette against the glowing water, gravity pulling him closer. “Lake likes you back,” he muttered before sense returned.
She turned, smile soft. “Maybe because its guardian finally stopped scowling.”
He snorted, but warmth soaked through him. Twilight brushed long shadows across the trees. He faced the path home.
“Time to head back,” he said.
She fell into step. The forest parted for her again, branches bowing gently in their wake. Awe blended with wariness until he could not tell one from the other. Her lilac scent carved the word deeper with every breath.
Mate.
He clenched his fists, focusing on the steady rhythm of boots on soil. Duty first, heart second. Yet as Cora hummed the lake’s melody beside him, he wondered how long he could ignore the song rising in his chest.
They reached the cottage clearing. Fireflies spun lazy spirals around her flowers. She paused at the gate, turning toward him.
“Thank you, Callum, for walking with me.”
He nodded. “Stay inside tonight. Lock the door.”
“Yes, Captain Cross.” She gave a mock salute, smile bright.
He should have left, but lingered, eyes tracing the curve of her cheek. The lion pressed hard, urging him nearer.
“Good night, Cora,” he managed.
“Good night.”
He forced his feet to move. Behind him, the door clicked shut and her humming faded. Owl song and his pounding pulse kept him company while he walked the dark trail.
Mate, the forest whispered, leaves rustling the syllables overhead.
