Page 25 of Moonveil and Magic

The room erupted into a fit of giggles that made my stomach hurt. I buried my face in my hands but was unable to stop the laughter. "He is a gentleman! Mostly. And yes, the... library... was very impressive. Perfectly curated."

"I knew it!" Aggy cheered, accidentally spilling a slice of pepperoni onto the rug. "The puma has pedigree. But what about tomorrow? The wolf is taking you out to the woods, right?"

"Kael is taking me on the bike," I said, trying to regain some semblance of dignity as I sipped my margarita. "Just a picnic."

"A picnic in the forest with a man who has shoulders that wide?" Mia shook her head, reaching for another piece of pizza. "You are going to be doing more than eating sandwiches, honey. I give it twenty minutes before you are checking out his... motorcycle engine. So, same question for tomorrow night. How big are we talking for the wolf?"

"Mia!" I shrieked, though I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.

We spent the rest of the night in that warm, fuzzy haze of true friendship. We talked about the boys, yes, but we also talked about our own dreams for Ebonvale and the spells we wanted to master once the Council was off our backs. We laughed until our ribs ached, cleaning up the spilled diamond dots with a simple flick of a broom-charm and finishing the last of the margaritas.

As I watched them eventually pile into a taxi at midnight, their laughter still echoing down the street, a profound sense of peace settled over me. Tomorrow would be wild, and the days after that would be dangerous, but tonight, I was just a girl with her friends. I was loved, I was safe, and for the first time in a long time, I was genuinely happy.

I locked the door, looked at the stray silver diamond dot still stuck in a floorboard crack, and smiled. I had a date with a wolf in the morning, and I had a feeling the 'library' would be just as impressive.

Pine Needles and Petrol

Kael did not do charcoal suits or quiet sedans. When he arrived on Saturday morning, the roar of his Harley vibrated through the shop’s floorboards long before he killed the engine. He was leaning against the bike when I stepped out, dressed in worn denim and a leather jacket that looked like it had seen its fair share of asphalt.

I had taken the hint, opting for my own heavy boots and a thick jumper. Kael stepped into my space, his expression uncharacteristically soft as he took the spare helmet from the seat. His large, calloused hands were incredibly tender as he slid the shell over my hair, his fingers brushing my cheeks before he snapped the buckle shut under my chin with a decisive click.

"Don't want that pretty head of yours rattling around," he murmured, his thumb lingering on the strap for a second too long.

The tenderness lasted exactly until I turned to mount the bike. As I swung my leg over the leather seat, Kael let out a sharp, booming laugh and smacked me firmly on the backside. I let out a startled squeak, my face flushing a deep crimson as I glared at him through the visor.

"Kael!"

"Move it, little red. We’re burning daylight," he chuckled, mounting the bike in front of me and kicking the engine into a growl.

He had a picnic basket strapped precariously to the back, and once I was settled behind him, we flew toward the outskirts of the city. We left the smog of Ebonvale behind, trading it for the scent of eucalyptus and damp earth as he steered the bike deep into the forest. He parked in a hidden grove, slinging the basket over one broad shoulder as he led the way up a narrow, winding trail.

The hike was a challenge, but the destination was worth every laboured breath. We reached a secluded ledge overlooking a sprawling valley, the air so clear it felt like breathing for the first time in weeks. As we ate, the conversation drifted away from the shard and toward the chaos of his daily life.

"You should have seen Spud and Tommy last week," Kael said, chuckling as he leaned back against the trunk of a massive oak. "They decided to have a competition to see who could service our customer’s vintage Ducati the fastest: pure ego, both of them. Tommy was ahead by a mile until he accidentally snapped the throttle cable. They spent the next four hours trying to rig a replacement before the owner showed up, sweating through their shirts and swearing like sailors. I just sat in the corner and watched them suffer."

I laughed, the sound bright and genuine. "Did they fix it?"

"Eventually. But I made them scrub the oil off the floor for a week as penance."

He reached out, his large hand wrapping around my wrist and pulling me toward him until I was settled firmly on his lap. The playful banter died away, replaced by a heavy, magnetic silence.

"Little red," he whispered, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that made my toes curl. "You torture me with those luscious lips. I need to taste them."

He claimed my mouth with a slow, deliberate heat, our lips meeting like we were sipping at each other, tasting and testing the boundaries of our restraint. I reached up, my fingers digging into the tough leather of his jacket as I pulled myself higher, desperate to be closer to the furnace of his body. Kael’s arms circled me, his large palms beginning to rub and massage my back with a steady, grounding pressure that made a low groan escape my throat.

The sound ignited something primal in him. Kael answered my groan with a sexy, vibrating growl that I felt deep in my chest. He pulled my jumper over my head in one fluid motion, and his breath hitched when he realised I had worn nothing underneath. Sunlight hit my skin, but it was the heat of his gaze that truly burned.

He didn't rush. He leaned down, his mouth tracing a path of fire over my skin as he began to worship my breasts like a long-awaited feast. His touch was raw, his hands possessive as he explored every curve of my body against the backdrop of the wild, ancient forest. In the quiet of the grove, away from the coven and the politics of the city, the wolf showed me exactly how a hunter claimed what was his. Every touch was an anchor, pinning me to the earth and to him, until the world outside Ebonvale felt like nothing more than a fading dream.

Fire and Aftermath

By evening, the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the shop. I was settling into my nighttime routine in the flat above Moonveil, the quiet scratch of a pen against paper the only sound in the room after a long bookbinding class. I reached for the kettle when I heard it: a faint, scraping sound on the roof directly above me. I froze, my ears straining.

“Not again,” I muttered under my breath, my heart quickening. I checked the remote ward links I kept in the flat, but something felt wrong. The air felt stripped, thin and brittle.

A sudden, earth-shaking crash from downstairs shattered the peace. There was no time to hesitate. I bolted for the door, my boots thundering down the narrow wooden stairs that led into the shop. Halfway down, the smell of acrid smoke hit me along with the metallic tang of violated magic.

I reached the bottom step just as a purple fire ignited near the shattered front display, the violet flames licking up the drapes and sending sparks into the air. My mind raced. This was not a random intruder. This was someone with the power to unravel magic at a molecular level.