Page 65 of Love At First Roar
He touched the barrier with his burning palm and reached deeper inside himself, into a place he had sealed off since the night Tessa fell. He found the shard of grief there, still sharp, still ready to cut. He lifted it, not to bleed, but to show.
“I loved someone once and lost her.” His voice cracked on the confession. “I let that loss build a wall, but you, Cora, you walk through walls like they are curtains. You show me every ache can bloom into new life.”
Gold light burst from her chest in answer. The red chain Elric claimed to own wavered, humming disharmony. Cora’s fingers twitched.
Callum’s pulse throbbed with hope. He pressed on.
“If you choose to open your eyes, I promise I will not look away from whatever shadows follow. I will stand beside you in every circle old magic draws, and I will never let silence eat us alive again.”
For a tense second nothing else moved. Callum’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. Then Cora’s lips parted, a tremblingbreath pulling in. Her eyelids fluttered once, twice, lifting to reveal green irises awash in molten gold.
She focused on him, confused at first, then clear, as a slow recognition dawned. The gold light around her surged, forcing the barrier to retreat a foot, then another. The warlock staggered, eyes widening.
“No…” Elric whispered, panic fracturing the smooth veneer. He lifted his hands to weave fresh sigils, but red runes sputtered like wet tinder in a gale of sunrise.
Cora pushed unsteadily to her feet, glow spilling from her palms and dancing across her skin like living dawn. The wound at her throat closed in a shimmer of light, leaving only a pale scar. She looked down at her hands, wonder and fierce resolve blazing together.
Callum’s heart nearly burst. Relief drowned every shard of fear, but the fight was not over. He braced to step forward, ready to meet whatever came.
Across from him, Elric’s face twisted as the red runes flickered dead. He took one backward step, eyes darting toward the dark wood.
“No…” he repeated, voice cracking, the single word an omen of a desperate move yet unseen.
The glade held its breath.
35
CORA
Gold hummed under Cora’s skin like a living heartbeat.
She had never felt power move through her so cleanly. No snags of fear, no drag of old curses. When she inhaled, the glade inhaled with her; when she exhaled, the altar’s red glow flickered as if her breath stole its fuel.
Across the ruined barrier, Callum caught her gaze. Moongray ash streaked his cheek, but his blue eyes blazed steady pride. He didn’t look surprised she’d risen from the brink. He looked relieved, as though his faith had always included this moment.
“Ready, enchantress?” he asked, voice rough but steady.
“More than.”
Elric’s panicked whisper ofNostill trembled in the air, but he rallied fast, swiping the back of his bloody hand across his mouth. “You don’t understand what you’ve touched,” he hissed. “The chain lives in your marrow. Break the relic and your soul will tear with it.”
Cora steadied, fingertips bright with gold. “Maybe. Maybe not. But Hollow Oak does not belong to you.Ido not belong to you.”
She lifted her palms. Golden light arced outward, meeting the relic’s red hum like sunrise hitting storm clouds. The two colors collided, spitting sparks that scorched the mossy ground. The rune-scarred stone groaned under the stress.
Elric lunged forward, knife raised. Callum’s roar cut through the clearing. The ranger shifted mid-charge, golden fur rippling, muscles surging. He slammed into Elric’s side before the dagger could descend on her. They rolled across the ground, man against lion, claws clashing with warlock sigils. Red bursts flared each time Elric’s palms landed against golden pelt, but Callum’s weight and fury drove him back.
Cora forced herself not to watch. Trust him. Focus.
She planted both hands on the altar. It vibrated violently, trying to shove her back, but she dug her fingers into the carvings. The runes burned her skin, yet the gold inside her answered with a roar. She closed her eyes, reaching, not for the chain, but for the lifeline Callum had given her—memories of the town that had claimed her heart.
Miriam humming in the inn kitchen. Twyla’s laughter clinking like spoon on porcelain. Maeve’s protective scowl that hid certainty. The children at the lake skipping stones. Callum’s voice reading poetry under moonlight.
Every image bloomed inside her like dandelion seeds on wind, each one carried by gold toward the relic’s heart. She felt it tremble, confused by love it could not digest.
Elric screamed as Callum’s claws raked his shoulder. With a snarl, he slammed a fist into the ground. Crimson sigils erupted beneath the lion, knocking Callum back into the white trunks. Bark splintered. The warlock staggered to his feet, blood seeping through torn cloak.
“You would destroy yourself for them?” Elric shouted at Cora, voice cracked with rage and disbelief.
