Page 41 of The Bookseller and the Alpha
“This morning ma’am.” What was I supposed to call her? I’d never studied the etiquette rules for how to speak to a former President.
She took in my deer-in-the-headlights look and gave me a sly wink. “Call me Marguerite. And I hope he’s showing you that he will be a good mate.” I gawked, embarrassed, as I remembered the orgasm Luc had given me this morning. Marguerite laughed. Her laugh was throaty and earthy. Genuine. “Looks like he’s off to a good start, at least.”
Luc pulled me gently back to his chest, one arm going protectively around my waist. “Stop mum. You’re embarrassing her. She’s not a Shifter and humans are more private about intimate relationships.”
Marguerite’s eyes dropped to Luc’s arm around my waist. Her smile was smug. With only a few well-placed words she demonstrated that Luc would protect me even against her. Point made, she turned and walked back into the house. “Food won’t be ready for a while. You can tell your dad about your magical problem. We’ll eat after you’ve done the ritual.”
I only got a brief glimpse of the house as Luc and I followed Simon down a light-filled corridor. It was as unpretentious inside as it was on the outside. The living room held a well-worn couch, comfortable rather than fancy. The room was lived in, with the clutter of everyday comfort. A coffee cup on a side table. A hoodie draped over the back of the couch. It wasn’t the sterile, designer-styled interior that I had expected. It was a home for two people who appeared to live an ordinary life.
Simon ushered me into a room at the end of the corridor. It held a desk and a couch with bookshelves on the far wall. One side of the room was full-length windows which looked onto the garden. Luc prowled at my heels.
I pulled the journal from my purse, handing it over, before Luc pulled me down to the couch beside him, tucking my body next to his and trapping both of my hands between his larger ones. My burgeoning anxiety faded away.
Simon sat behind the desk, his expression sharpening as he flipped through the pages. I let Luc explain the information he’d collected so far. Then I told Simon the idea I’d come up with to undo the spell: a way to combine two rituals.
Simon smiled at me, looking genuinely pleased with my suggestion. He leaned back in his chair, thinking. “I agree. It could work. But it will take power. I’ll need to get some things together to enhance my power.”
“About that,” Luc said. He removed one hand from mine, gently lifting my chin until I met his eyes. They were chocolate brown. Steady and reassuring. “Are you willing to tell my dad what’s been happening with your powers?”
Um. Was I ready? Luc squeezed my hands, letting me know that he was giving me the choice. But he wanted me to do it. He was right. I had been denying the signs that had been obvious since the moment I pulled the water jug across the tray in the hospital. At thirty years old, I was finally coming into my power as a Witch and I had no control over it. If I continued to pretend that nothing was happening, I could hurt myself. Or someone else. And I’d only been denying it because I’d spent my entire life since I’d failed the Magic Tests telling myself that I could be happy without magic. But I’d been lying to myself all along. I had pushed the hurt down, locked it away. I wanted magic so much. So now, the possibility that I really did have the power I’d always thought I should have? I wanted it too much. And things I wanted that much didn’t have a way of happening to me. What if the things that had been happening were just some sort of aberration? What if my power didn’t stay? If I didn’tacknowledge that I had power, it couldn’t hurt me when it went away. But maybe, just maybe, it could be real.
“All right,” I said. Luc rewarded me with a smile so brilliant that it took my breath away. I turned to Simon, thinking about the best way to summarise a large chunk of my life. “I’m from a Witch family but I failed the Magic Tests when I was twelve even though I’d been showing the usual signs: tingling fingers, buzzing ears. We always thought it was because my twin sister got the magic for both of us. When my apartment was broken into, I hit my head. Since then, I’ve been showing signs of telekinetic power.”
“It could be explained by the knock on your head,” Simon said. He looked thoughtful, but not surprised. “There are rare cases where the channels where magic should flow are blocked and a small procedure can open them. Were you ever taken for scans after your Magic Tests?”
I shook my head, momentarily unable to speak as fresh pain speared my chest and I blinked back tears. I hadn’t been aware that investigations had been possible, but my mother must have known. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that she hadn’t done anything. But apparently, she still had the capacity to hurt me when I least expected it.
Strong arms lifted me. Placed me on wide thighs. Arms caged me against a hard chest. “It’s alright, darling,” Luc whispered in my ear. “I’m here.” My breath hitched. Now for a different reason. The hurt faded away. How could I feel sad when Luc held me like I was precious and special? When he whispered the perfect words. Making me feel safe. Wanted.
In that moment I knew that I was lost. If he wanted me, I was his.
When I finally remembered that Simon was in the room with us, he was waiting patiently, an indulgent smile bringingout a dimple on one side. I cleared my throat. “No, I didn’t have any investigations done.”
“Well, I’d say that the knock on your head did what the procedure could have done, and it unlocked your power. I can feel it.” He smiled again.
I sat up straight on Luc’s lap. “You can? Really?” My heart was fluttering against my ribs like a trapped hummingbird.
“Breathe, baby.” Luc’s whisper was hot against my ear.
Who needed to breathe? My power had come in. My heart was giddy. Light. “Can you draw on my power to increase yours? For the ritual?”
The papers on Simon’s desk fluttered in a breeze. “I think that would be a good idea,” he said, putting one hand on the stack before it reached the edge of the desk. The dimple disappeared. “You’re overflowing with it.”
Overflowing! I didn’t know whether to smile because I had power or panic because the dimple had gone. “Is that bad?” It must be bad. Breakfast sat like lead in my stomach. Acid churned. Oh. Of course it was bad. I was an untrained Witch with no control over her power. I was dangerous. I could have hurt someone. Shoving my hands between my thighs, I tried to stop them shaking. I could have hurt Luc. I didn’t wait for Simon’s answer. Shifting on Luc’s lap, I turned to look at him. His eyes were so blue. I could lose myself in the heat of his gaze. “I’m so sorry,” I gasped.
His forehead creased in confusion. “Sweetheart, you’re overflowing with magic. Why are you apologising?”
“I could have hurt you.” During the car trip he’d told me how I’d had another… incident… shall we call it.
His forehead cleared, his eyes becoming blue flames. It was the blue of a blowtorch. Burning past my defences. “I’m hard to hurt but I appreciate that you were worried about me.” His smile was dark, full of promises.
I swear my panties combusted. The big bad Alpha really liked that I had worried about him.
***
Luc was not happy when Simon said that he had to leave the room for the ritual. He actuallysnarledat his father, who wasn’t remotely intimidated. In fact, he smirked. It seemed that he was enjoying his son’s loss of control.
“The quicker you go, the faster we’ll be done. Go help your mother. Shoo.”
