Page 24 of Mane Squeeze
Still.
She didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Instead, she stood, taking their now-empty plates to the sink. Her hands were shaking. Just a little. Just enough.
Dominic followed her, of course. Because he couldn’t not. That damned tether tugged like a leash every time he drifted more than a few strides away. But this time, she didn’t mind the closeness.
She felt his warmth at her back, not invasive, but steady. Present.
“You’re good at this,” he said, watching her rinse the plates. “Caring about things. Even when they hurt.”
She paused. “I don’t care about everything.”
“But you care about this.”
She turned slowly, water dripping from her fingers. “What ‘this’ are you talking about?”
He shrugged, eyes meeting hers. “All of it. The curse. The town. Me.”
Her breath caught.
For a second, neither of them moved. Then he reached up, brushing a damp curl from her cheek. The touch was barely there—light, reverent. Like he was scared to press too hard.
“Dominic…”
“I know,” he murmured. “I’m not asking for anything. Just…”
His hand dropped.
“…just don’t look at me like I’m the enemy.”
She exhaled. The air between them shifted. Thickened.
“I don’t,” she whispered.
Their eyes met, and maybe they were starting to see each other clearly.
11
DOMINIC
The storm hit just after dusk.
One second, Dominic was tossing another log onto the fire while Lillith rummaged through her bookshelf for something calledMoonbound Mystics, Volume Three, and the next, the sky cracked wide open with a roar that sent every bird in the trees screaming.
It wasn’t a normal storm. He could feel it.
Magic clung to the air like static, thick and buzzing, pressing against his skin like too-tight armor. The sky outside had turned a surreal, violent green, pulsing with arcs of lightning that didn’t strike so much as coil like serpents above the treetops.
He stood at the window, muscles tense, the hair on the back of his neck standing at attention.
Behind him, Lillith’s voice was tight. “That’s not natural.”
“Nope,” he agreed, jaw clenched. “That’s spell-born. Someone pissed off the wrong witch.”
A pulse of heat rolled through the cottage—the wards reacting to the shift outside. He turned to her. “You’ve got a storm ward, right?”
She nodded, but there was doubt in her eyes. “It’s not meant for this level.”
Another boom shook the ground, more like an explosion than thunder. The lights flickered once, twice—and then went out.
