Page 54 of Love At First Roar
She settled back, head on his chest, fingers drawing lazy patterns along his ribs. “Does this mean I’m allowed to stay?”
“As long as you want.” His voice came out low and rough with honesty. “But I need to patrol in a bit. Dawn report.”
“I know. Ranger duties.” She stretched like a cat, blanket sliding to her waist. “Let me make breakfast.”
“You’ll burn the cabin down,” he teased, already sliding from the bed.
She tossed a pillow at him. “One toast incident and I’m branded for life. I can’t believe Miriam told you that.”
He caught the pillow, laughing softly. “Stay. I’ll handle food.”
He tugged on worn jeans and a faded shirt, then padded to the stove. While coffee brewed, he scrambled eggs, added wild mushrooms he’d foraged yesterday. Cora wrapped herself in the blanket and joined him, leaning against the counter, hair a golden halo in the morning light. They ate standing close, stealing bites, bumping shoulders. Domesticity felt strange and perfect.
After dishes were rinsed, he tugged on boots, strapped his ranger blade to his hip. “I’ll sweep the northern ridge, check ward stones. Be back before midday.”
Cora frowned, foot tapping. “The northern ridge is close to the Forgotten Cut.”
“Exactly why I’m going.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Stay here. Rest.”
She opened her mouth to protest.
He narrowed his eyes. “Promise me.”
She sighed. “Fine.”
He lingered at the doorway, gaze tracing her in the glow of the cabin. Something inside whispered that leaving was a mistake, but duty called louder. “Lock the door.”
“Go, Captain Cross,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be here when you get back.”
The trail felt wrong the moment he stepped under the pines. Birds stayed silent. Squirrel chatter went still. The Veil hummed off-key, a vibration beneath the soil that rattled his teeth. He pushed faster, boots pounding the mossy path. At the first ward stone, the runes flickered red instead of silver.
“Damn.”
A second stone further on glowed the same sick color, thin cracks spidering over its surface. His gut twisted. Blood magic. Fresh.
He broke into a run.
At the rise overlooking Hollow Oak’s northern barrier, he saw it: a tear in the Veil, jagged and pulsing crimson, like someone had clawed reality open. And in front of it stood a figure cloaked in black, arms outstretched, hands coated in swirling red sigils.
Callum’s heart pounded. He knew without ever seeing him before. Elric.
The warlock’s head turned, as if he sensed the lion’s presence. Pale hair spilled over a sharp face. Black eyes glinted like oil on water. A slow smile curved his lips.
“Easy, beast,” Elric called, voice carrying on a wind that smelled of ash. “I’m only here for what’s mine.”
The Veil hissed, sparks of red lightning spitting from the tear, singeing the ground. Callum felt the forest recoil.
His lion surged, claws itching to rip. He stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his blade. “Back off this land, warlock. Last warning.”
Elric laughed. “You think you can stop me? I forged the chain tying your little fae to my will long before this town tucked her under your paw.”
Callum’s pulse thundered. He opened his mouth but a soft gasp behind him froze the words.
Cora.
She stood halfway down the slope, green dress from last night fluttering in the sinister wind, cheeks paled with horror. She must’ve followed minutes after he’d left. Her eyes locked on Elric, then on the glowing wound in the Veil. Fear warred with anger on her face.
Callum’s blood chilled. “I told you to stay at the cabin.”
