Page 17 of Claws for Celebration
"That must be overwhelming."
"Overwhelming doesn't begin to cover it." Moira set down her mug with trembling hands. "Lucien, I think I might be losing my mind. Either that, or I'm discovering that magic is real and I'm apparently supposed to be some kind of witch."
The words hung between them in the quiet bookstore, weighted with implications that made her stomach churn with anxiety. She'd never spoken those fears aloud before, never admitted to another person that she was questioning the fundamental nature of reality itself.
"What if neither of those things is true?" Lucien asked gently.
"What do you mean?"
"What if you're not losing your mind, and you're not discovering magic for the first time?" His voice carried careful neutrality. "What if you're simply remembering something you've always known on some level?"
"That's a poetic way to describe a psychological break."
"Is it? Or is it a poetic way to describe coming home to yourself?" Lucien reached across the table and covered her hand with his, the contact sending familiar warmth spreading up her arm. "You said yourself that Hollow Oak feels different from other places. That the mountain air seems to whisper secrets, that certain books respond to your touch in unusual ways."
"Environmental factors and confirmation bias."
"Maybe. Or maybe your rational mind is trying to protect you from accepting truths that your heart already recognizes." His thumb traced gentle circles across her knuckles, grounding her to the moment even as her thoughts spun in chaotic directions. "What does your instinct tell you about the stories in that book?"
Moira looked down at their joined hands, noting how right the contact felt despite her general discomfort with casual touch."My instinct says they're true. That my family really did practice magic, that they really were guardians of some kind, and that leaving Hollow Oak was a sacrifice my grandmother made to protect future generations from something dangerous."
"And what does your instinct say about your own abilities?"
"That they're real. That I can feel them waking up inside me like something that's been sleeping for a very long time." She met his eyes, surprised by the understanding she found there instead of skepticism. "That's what scares me most. Not the impossibility of magic, but the possibility that I'm supposed to embrace it."
"Why does that frighten you?"
"Because embracing it means giving up everything I thought I knew about myself. My career, my life goals, my entire sense of identity is built on rational analysis and empirical evidence. If magic is real, if I'm some kind of hereditary witch, then what does that make me?"
"It makes you Moira Marsh," Lucien said simply. "Brilliant researcher, careful scholar, and someone brave enough to seek truth even when it challenges anything we thought was for certain about the world."
The sincerity in his voice made tears gather in her eyes. "You make it sound so simple."
"Simple doesn't mean easy. But some discoveries are worth the disruption they cause, especially when they help us understand who we're meant to be."
As Moira sat in the quiet bookstore, her hand warm beneath Lucien's touch and the Shadowheart Codex pulsing gently beside her elbow, she realized that her fear wasn't really about losing her mind or discovering impossible abilities. Her fear was about what accepting those abilities might mean for the careful, controlled life she'd built for herself.
But looking into Lucien's patient green eyes, feeling the steady strength of his presence beside her during the most confusing time of her life, she wondered if maybe some changes were worth the risk of uncertainty.
"Lucien," she said softly, "what would you do if you discovered you weren't entirely human?"
His hand tightened almost imperceptibly on hers, and for a moment, something wild and dangerous flickered in his expression. "I'd hope that the people who cared about me would accept whatever I turned out to be."
The weight of unspoken meaning in his words made her pulse quicken. "Even if it meant they had to reconsider everything they thought they knew about the world?"
"Especially then," he said, his voice rough with emotion she couldn't quite identify. "The best kind of love grows stronger when tested by truth."
As the clock chimed midnight and cast them deeper into the intimate shadows of the sleeping bookstore, Moira found herself wondering if Lucien's words carried promises that went far beyond philosophical discussions about accepting the impossible.
11
LUCIEN
The shadow creatures had been waiting at the forest's edge, drawn by magical currents that pulsed through Hollow Oak like a beacon calling to things that should never have noticed their hidden community. Lucien's panther had scented them before his human mind registered the threat, primitive instincts screaming warnings about predators that existed in the spaces between worlds.
He'd left Moira at the bookstore with promises to return soon, claiming he needed to check on a delivery at the loading dock behind the municipal building. The lie had tasted bitter on his tongue, but some truths were too dangerous to share until she was ready to understand what accepting them meant.
Now, crouched in the undergrowth that bordered Hollow Oak's protective wards, Lucien watched three shadow creatures test the boundaries of their sanctuary. They moved like liquid darkness given malevolent purpose, their forms shifting between recognizable shapes and nightmare amalgamations that hurt to look at directly. Ancient magic clung to them like smoke, speaking of realms where different laws governed existence.
