Page 72 of Claws for Celebration
Lucien helped her to her feet with the careful attention of someone who'd spent five days fearing he might lose her forever. Her legs felt shaky, but they held her weight, and by the time they'd made it downstairs to the main floor of the shop, she was moving almost normally.
The Hollow Oak Book Nook looked exactly as she remembered, with its warm lighting and towering shelves and the comfortable reading chairs that had witnessed their first tentative conversations. But now it felt different too, charged with protective energy that responded to her presence like recognition.
"The wards integrated with the building's existing structure," Lucien explained, watching her examine the subtle magical reinforcements that now protected the space. "Your blood magic didn't just defend against external threats. It claimed this place as sanctuary."
"Home," she said simply, running her fingers along a bookshelf that hummed with contentment at her touch.
"Home," he agreed, wrapping his arms around her from behind in a gesture that felt like the most natural thing in the world.
Standing there in the bookstore that had brought them together, surrounded by books that contained centuries of accumulated wisdom and friends who'd become family, Moira finally understood what her grandmother had been trying to protect her from all those years ago.
Not the magic itself, but the weight of responsibility that came with it. The knowledge that being Guardian Witch meant choosing duty over personal desires when the stakes were high enough.
But looking around at the community that had welcomed her, feeling the steady strength of the man who'd anchored her through the impossible, Moira realized that sometimes duty and desire pointed in the same direction.
Sometimes coming home meant accepting a destiny that felt like choosing love over fear, belonging over isolation, and the courage to build something beautiful in a world that desperately needed protection.
"So," she said, leaning back against Lucien's chest while golden magic danced between her fingers like visible contentment, "what's next for Hollow Oak's newest Guardian Witch?"
"Whatever you want," he replied, kissing her cheek. "We've got all the time in the world to figure it out together."
43
LUCIEN
Three weeks had passed since Moira's awakening, and Lucien found himself marveling at how quickly their life had settled into a rhythm that felt both natural and extraordinary. Mornings began with coffee shared over plans for the bookstore's expansion, afternoons were spent helping Moira establish her Guardian Witch responsibilities, and evenings belonged to just the two of them, curled together in their apartment above the shop while she practiced controlled magic and he caught up on Council reports.
It was perfect. It was everything he'd never dared to hope for.
And it was time to make it permanent.
The ring had been his grandmother's, a family heirloom passed down through generations of panther shifters who understood the sacred nature of true mating bonds. The center stone was a deep green emerald surrounded by smaller diamonds that caught the light like captured starfire, set in silver that had been blessed by mountain spirits long before his family had immigrated to Appalachian territory.
"You're nervous," Moira observed from her position behind the bookstore counter, where she was cataloging new arrivalswith the methodical precision that had made her such an excellent researcher. "I can feel it. What's got you all wound up?"
Lucien looked up from the inventory sheets he'd been pretending to review, noting how the afternoon light caught the auburn highlights in her mahogany hair and the way her wire-rimmed glasses had slipped down her nose in the endearing manner that always made him want to kiss her senseless.
"Can't a man appreciate the view without being accused of having ulterior motives?" he asked, though his attempt at casual deflection was undermined by the way his heart hammered against his ribs.
"Not when that man is practically broadcasting anxiety through a mate bond," she replied with the kind of fond exasperation that had become one of his favorite sounds in the world. "Seriously, Lucien. What's wrong?"
This wasn't how he'd planned to do this. He'd imagined waiting until evening, maybe taking her for a walk through the garden where they'd first acknowledged their connection. Something romantic and memorable that would make for a good story to tell their children someday.
But looking at her now, surrounded by the books that had brought them together in the first place, her brown eyes warm with concern for his wellbeing, Lucien realized there would never be a more perfect moment.
"Nothing's wrong," he said, moving around the counter to where she stood. "Everything's exactly right. That's actually what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Oh?" She set down her pen and turned to face him fully, her scholarly instincts clearly engaged by whatever she was seeing in his expression.
"Moira," he began, then stopped, running his hands through his hair as he tried to remember the speech he'd been practicing for days. "We've been through hell together. Literally,in some cases. We've faced down ancient evil, survived magical exhaustion that should have killed you, and somehow managed to build something beautiful in the middle of all that chaos."
"We have," she agreed, though her voice carried a note of wariness that suggested she suspected where this conversation was heading.
"And I love you," he continued, his voice growing stronger as the words he'd been holding back for weeks finally found their way into the open. "Not just because of the mate bond, though that's part of it. I love your curiosity, your courage, the way you make terrible jokes when you're nervous. I love how you've embraced this community, how you've made yourself essential to people who barely knew you existed a few months ago."
"Lucien," she said softly, her eyes beginning to shimmer with tears.
"I love that you chose to save the world even when it meant risking everything you'd found here," he said, pulling the ring box from his pocket with hands that only trembled slightly. "And I love that you chose to come back to me when it would have been easier to drift away into whatever peace was waiting on the other side."
