Page 71 of Claws for Celebration
"You look terrible," she said fondly, managing to lift her hand enough to touch the stubble on his cheek.
His laugh was shaky with relief. "You should see yourself, beautiful. Though honestly, you're still the most gorgeous thing I've ever laid eyes on."
The bedroom door burst open without ceremony, admitting Twyla carrying a tea service that smelled like heaven mixed with healing herbs. She took one look at Moira's open eyes and promptly burst into tears.
"Oh, honey," Twyla sobbed, setting down the tray with trembling hands. "We were so worried. You've been floating somewhere between here and gone for days, and Lucien's been wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing."
"I wasn't pacing," Lucien protested mildly. "I was maintaining a vigil."
"Same difference," Twyla said with a watery laugh, pouring steaming tea into a delicate cup painted with protective symbols. "Here, sweetheart. This will help restore your strength."
The tea was incredible, warming her from the inside out while somehow making her feel more connected to her own body. With each sip, the floating sensation that had plagued her since awakening began to fade, replaced by the comfortable weight of existing fully in the physical world again.
"How do you feel?" Lucien asked, his intense scrutiny suggesting he was cataloging every nuance of her recovery.
"Different," Moira said honestly, taking inventory of her magical senses. "The power is still there, but it feels... settled. Like it's finally found its proper place."
She reached out experimentally with her blood magic, half-expecting the chaotic surges that had characterized her awakening period. Instead, golden energy flowed from her fingers in perfectly controlled streams, responding to her will with an obedience that felt natural rather than forced.
"It's not fighting me anymore," she marveled, watching as the magical threads wove themselves into intricate protective patterns around the room. "I can actually feel what it wants to do, and it's not destruction or domination. It's... guardianship."
"Because that's what you are," Twyla said with satisfaction. "A Guardian Witch, born and bred. Your magic knows its purpose now that the corruption's been cleared away."
"The grimoire," Moira said suddenly, looking around the room for the ancient tome that had been her constant companion and tormentor. "Where is it?"
"Downstairs," Lucien said. "And you'll be happy to know it's become exactly what it appears to be. Just an old book filled with historical information about your family. No more whispers, no more psychological manipulation. Malphas's influence died with him."
Relief flooded through her so powerfully that tears gathered in her eyes. "It's really over?"
"It's really over," he confirmed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You saved everyone, love. The entire supernatural world owes you a debt that can never be repaid."
Before she could respond, Elena appeared in the doorway carrying what looked like official documents sealed with the Council's distinctive wax seal.
"Perfect timing," Elena said with a warm smile. "I was hoping you'd wake up before the formal ceremony."
"What ceremony?" Moira asked, though she suspected she already knew from the way Lucien's expression had turned pleased and proud.
"The Council's official recognition of your new position," Elena explained, settling into the chair Twyla vacated for her. "As of this morning, you are formally appointed as Hollow Oak's Guardian Witch, with all the rights and responsibilities that title entails."
The words should have felt overwhelming, but instead they rested on her like a comfortable cloak. This was what she'd been moving toward since the moment she'd stepped off the bus in Hollow Oak six weeks ago. Not just magical awakening, but true belonging.
"What exactly does that mean?" she asked, though she was already reaching for the documents with curiosity.
"It means you're officially part of the Council structure," Elena said. "A voice in supernatural governance, access to resources and support networks, protection under supernatural law. But mostly, it means acknowledgment of what everyone here already knows. This is your home, and we're your people."
"The paperwork also includes some very nice benefits," Twyla added with a grin. "Magical supply allowances, access to the Council's research libraries, and a stipend that should let you and Lucien fix up the bookstore properly."
"And," Elena continued with obvious delight, "formal recognition of your mate bond with our favorite panther shifter. The Council was quite impressed by how your connection anchored you through the banishment ritual."
Lucien's hand found hers again, their fingers intertwining with the easy intimacy of a couple who'd been through the impossible together and emerged stronger for it.
"So I'm officially a supernatural citizen now?" Moira asked, marveling at how right the idea felt.
"You always were," Lucien said softly. "The paperwork just makes it legal."
As afternoon light shifted through the windows and friends continued arriving to welcome her back to the land of the living, Moira felt something she'd never experienced before. Complete and utter belonging. Not because of what she could do or what she'd accomplished, but because of who she was and how much these people valued her presence in their lives.
"I want to see the bookstore," she said suddenly, surprising herself with the urgency in her voice. "I want to make sure it's really real, that I'm really home."
