Page 25 of Claws for Celebration
As they moved toward the bookstore's back exit, Moira felt her newly awakened magical senses prickling with anticipation. Whatever Lucien was about to reveal, her blood magic recognized it as significant. The protective spells she'd unconsciously woven around the building seemed to hum with approval, as if they too were eager to witness whatever truth lay hidden behind his careful explanations and gentle guidance.
Behind them, the candles continued burning with steady golden light, while her notebook's glowing symbols pulsed in rhythm with her accelerating heartbeat. Magic had become as natural as breathing in the space of a single afternoon, but the mystery of Lucien Vale remained tantalizingly unsolved.
Soon, she hoped, that would change too.
15
LUCIEN
The garden behind The Hollow Oak Book Nook had been designed with privacy in mind, surrounded by tall hedges and ancient oak trees that created a natural sanctuary from prying eyes. Moonlight filtered through the canopy overhead, casting silver patterns across the small space that Lucien had claimed as his own refuge during the more difficult days of running a business while maintaining his shifter duties.
Tonight, it would serve a different purpose entirely.
"The wards here are stronger," Moira observed as they stepped onto the stone pathway that wound between carefully tended herb beds. "I can feel them. Like a protective bubble wrapped around this entire area."
"I reinforced them for privacy," Lucien said, noting how naturally she'd begun recognizing magical signatures. Her awakening abilities were developing at an unprecedented rate. "Some conversations require absolute discretion."
"And some revelations require space to run if things go badly?"
The perceptiveness of her question caused him to be filled with affection and apprehension in equal measure. "Something like that."
Lucien moved toward a small grove of trees at the garden's far end, where a wooden bench sat beneath spreading branches that had shielded him during countless transformations over the years. His panther paced restlessly beneath his skin, eager to finally show their mate the truth of what they were.
"Lucien," Moira said softly, "whatever you're about to show me, I want you to know that I trust you. After everything you've done to help me understand what's happening to me, I trust you completely."
Her words carried weight that went far beyond simple faith in his character. She was offering him something precious and fragile, the kind of trust that could either bind them closer together or shatter irreparably depending on how she reacted to his true nature.
"I hope you still feel that way in a few minutes," he said, pausing beside the bench. "Moira, what I'm about to show you isn't just a magical gift. It's what I am, fundamentally. Part of my essential nature."
"Are you trying to scare me?"
"I'm trying to prepare you." Lucien studied her face in the moonlight, memorizing the curious intelligence in her brown eyes, the determined set of her jaw, the way she'd unconsciously moved closer to him despite his warnings. "Shape-shifting isn't like casting spells or weaving ward-work. It's a complete transformation of physical form."
"Shape-shifting," she repeated, and he heard the moment when theoretical knowledge became personal reality. "You're a shifter."
"Yes."
"What kind?"
"Panther."
Moira was quiet while processing this information. "That explains so much about how you move. The way you seem to appear and disappear without making sound. The predatory grace that should be alarming but somehow feels protective instead."
"And how do you feel about that? About what I am?"
"Curious," she said honestly. "And maybe a little nervous, but not because I'm afraid of you. Because I'm afraid of what this means for everything I thought I understood about the world."
Relief flooded through him at her measured response. No horror, no revulsion, just scholarly curiosity mixed with understandable apprehension.
"Wait here," he said, moving toward the cluster of bushes that provided adequate cover for transformation. "And Moira? Don't run. Please. No matter what you see, remember that it's still me."
"I won't run," she promised, settling onto the bench with her hands folded in her lap like someone preparing to witness something momentous.
Behind the natural screen of foliage, Lucien stripped quickly, folding his clothes and setting them safely aside. The cool mountain air felt good against his skin, and his panther practically purred with anticipation of finally being seen and accepted by their mate.
The transformation took him like a familiar embrace, human consciousness merging with predatory instincts as his body shifted into the sleek, powerful form of a black panther. Enhanced senses flooded his awareness: the night sounds of small creatures in the underbrush, the scent of Moira's lavender soap mixed with the fear-tinged excitement that spoke of adrenaline rather than terror, the way her magical signature had grown stronger and more complex since her awakening began.
When he emerged from the bushes, padding silently across the moonlit garden on velvet paws, Moira's sharp gasp was the only sound that broke the evening quiet.
