Page 35 of Love At First Roar
He moved back to the table, reclaimed his coffee, took a long sip, then leaned against the counter. “You wanna tell me why you're here before dawn lookin’ like the forest spat you out?”
Cora pulled a folded page from her coat pocket. Not parchment—her sketchbook. She walked it over, laid it gently on the table beside his mug, and stepped back.
Callum stared at the page.
A stone altar. Carved in clawed runes. A jagged crack in the center, glowing red like embers had burrowed deep inside. It was drawn with a kind of painful precision that made his skin itch.
“That’s the Binding Stone,” he muttered.
“No.” Her voice barely came above a whisper. “It’s worse. I saw it. Not just dream-seeing, Callum. I dreamwalked. I was there. I felt it.”
He didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just watched her as she spoke, voice shaking but determined.
“I’ve been hiding something,” she said. “Because I didn’t know how to explain it. Because I wasn’t sure if it was still following me. But last night… it found me again.”
She looked up. Her eyes shone in the firelight, rimmed red. “His name’s Elric Durant. A warlock. Older, powerful, smart as hell. I trusted him once. He bound me with blood magic. Told me I belonged to him. I broke free, or I thought I had. I ran for years. I didn’t even know Hollow Oak existed until the Veil dragged me through. I think… I think he did too.”
Callum gripped the edge of the table. His nails bit into the wood.
“You were bound.” He kept his voice low, steady, even though his lion snarled under the surface. “With blood magic.”
She nodded, flinching like she expected him to raise his voice.
“And you didn’t think that was important enough to say?”
Her shoulders hunched. “I didn’t know what it meant here. If it would follow me. If it’d taint the Veil. If you’d throw me out before I had a chance to figure it out.”
He slammed his mug down. It cracked on the rim but didn’t break. The silence that followed stretched thick and heavy.
“Damn it, Cora.”
“I know.”
“No. You don’t. You brought a predator to my doorstep.”
“I didn’t mean to,” she snapped, lifting her chin. “You think I wanted any of this? I’ve been looking over my shoulder for years. And now he’s using something ancient and twisted, and I’m trying to help, but I don’t know how.”
He stared at her. At the tear slipping down her cheek. At the way she didn’t brush it away.
“You should’ve told me,” he said, voice raw. “You should’ve trusted me.”
Her eyes met his. “You barely trust yourself.”
He stiffened, heat flaring up his neck.
“I shared something with you,” she said, softer now. “Your words. Your pain. I held them close and didn’t ask for more. I’m not asking for a miracle, Callum. Just help.”
His breath caught.
He saw her now. Not just the chaos she carried, or the wild magic that followed her like a tide. But the girl who ran, not because she was reckless, but because she had survived something no one should have had to. She’d clawed her way to freedom and still looked for light in people. That kind of hope gutted him.
He reached slowly for the drawing, running his thumb along the jagged lines.
“We need to train you,” he said after a beat.
Cora blinked. “What?”
“You wanna help Hollow Oak? You need to be able to navigate the Veil without triggering every wild pulse in the forest. And you need to ground yourself before that magic decides it wants a taste of you again.”
