Page 36 of Claws for Celebration
"Reshape it how?"
Through bonds freely given and received. Through love that amplifies power rather than demanding sacrifice. Through partnership that shares the burden rather than bearing it alone.
Moira thought about the mate bond concepts Lucien had explained, about the way her magic had responded to their physical and emotional intimacy, about the sense of completeness she felt when they were together.
"You're talking about Lucien," she said. "About what we could become together."
The panther shifter carries protective magic in his very bones. United with Shadowheart blood power, their combined abilities could not only maintain Seraphina's wards but strengthen them beyond anything previously achieved. The final battle could be won not through sacrifice, but through the joining of complementary souls.
"And if I choose not to accept this destiny? If I decide the cost is too high?"
The grimoire's response was immediate and chilling.
Then the wards fail within days rather than years. The ancient evil breaks free of its bindings. And Hollow Oak becomes ground zero for a supernatural catastrophe that will spread far beyond these mountains.
Moira closed the ancient tome carefully, her mind reeling with the weight of information that transformed her understanding of everything. Her quiet research assignment hadn't been academic curiosity or even cosmic coincidence. It had been destiny calling her home to face a responsibility that her family had been running from for generations.
She heard the door open in the front, and she looked up to see Lucien entering with the silent grace she'd grown to love. But something in his expression suggested he carried news that would complicate her morning revelations even further.
"You're back early," she said, noting the tension in his shoulders and the way his dark green eyes swept the bookstore as if checking for threats. "Everything all right with the Council business?"
"Not exactly." He moved toward her with purpose, settling into his usual chair with fluid efficiency. "Moira, we need to talk. About what's really happening in Hollow Oak, about the dangers that are growing stronger every day, and about choices you're going to need to make sooner than either of us anticipated."
"Choices about what?"
"About whether you're willing to become what this community needs you to be." His voice carried the weight of urgency barely held in check. "About whether you're prepared to accept a destiny that goes far beyond anything we've discussed so far."
Moira looked at the closed grimoire, its leather binding still warm from revealing secrets that had been hidden for generations, then back at Lucien's serious expression. "You mean about the Shadowheart obligation. About the fact that I'm apparently supposed to save Hollow Oak from some ancient evil that's been bound for over a century."
Surprise flickered across his features. "You already know?"
"The grimoire decided it was time for the complete truth." She gestured toward the ancient tome with hands that had finally stopped trembling. "All of it. The family curse, my grandmother's exile, the reason my presence here isn't coincidence but destiny calling me home to finish what my ancestor started."
"And how do you feel about that?"
Moira considered the question carefully, noting that her first instinct wasn't panic or denial but rather a deep sense of pieces finally clicking into place. "Terrified," she said honestly. "But also relieved. Like I finally understand why I never felt like I belonged anywhere else."
"There's more," Lucien said gently. "Things the grimoire might not have explained about the immediate situation."
"Such as?"
"Such as the fact that we have maybe two weeks before the protective wards fail completely. Such as the supernatural entities that are actively probing our defenses, looking for ways to break through. Such as the probability that you're going to have to attempt large-scale magical workings that could either save this community or destroy it."
The weight of his words were heavy. "Two weeks."
"At most. Possibly less if the attacks escalate." Lucien leaned forward, his hands reaching across the small table to cover hers. "Moira, I need you to understand what we're asking of you. What I'm asking of you."
"What are you asking?"
"Everything," he said simply. "Your magic, your commitment to staying in Hollow Oak permanently, your willingness to risk everything on magical techniques you've never attempted before." His voice grew soft with an emotion she was learning to recognize as carefully restrained love. "And possibly your willingness to accept a mate bond that would amplify yourabilities but also tie you to this place and to me for the rest of our lives."
The conversation she'd been expecting, the full revelation she'd known was coming, had finally arrived. But instead of feeling overwhelmed, Moira found herself thinking about the golden magic that had danced around them in the moonlit garden, about the sense of rightness she felt when Lucien's arms were around her, about the protective instincts that had been driving her unconscious spellwork since the day she'd arrived.
"Before I answer," she said, squeezing his hands gently, "I need to know something."
"Anything."
"Are you asking because it's what the Council needs, or because it's what you want?"
