Page 128 of Craving Carla

“This is it,” Carla says with a shrug. “The kids really like the Academy, and frankly, I don’t blame them. I wish I had something like this growing up. It would have...”

I reach out, gently stroking her cheek, feeling the softness of her skin beneath my fingertips. “Given you structure,” I finish for her, “helped you be more sure of yourself.”

Carla gets lost in my eyes for a moment. “Yeah, something like that.”

I grin, but my focus shifts when I see two figures coming down the hallway. A woman walks in front, her steps steady and controlled, with a taller, broader man trailing just behind her.

“That’s Angie,” Carla says quietly, “and her fated mate, Jacob from House of Zorah.”

“I thought Jacob was House of Amos,” I say, confused by this information.

“It’s complicated,” Carla explains. “Since he lost his entire pack during the Great War, he’s not part of his cousin’s pack.”

I shrug. “Makes sense, I guess.”

As they draw closer, I take in their appearances. Jacob is a mountain of a man, standing nearly seven feet tall with the solid build of a bodybuilder. His skin is deep brown, his eyes an unnatural electric blue that marks him as a shifter. A neatly trimmed beard frames his severe jawline, and his head is crowned with short, tight curls. Despite being indoors, he’s barefoot, his toes gripping the stone floor with each step.

Angie is striking in her own right—petite yet commanding, with warm brown skin and eyes a deep shade of brown. Her hair falls in elaborate braids decorated with gold cuffs that shift gently as she moves. She wears a fitted blue sweater and dark jeans with simple flats, but holds herself with the authority of someone in full ceremonial robes. Her face is beautiful but stern, the look of someone who’s seen too much and let little slide.

I bow my head respectfully as she reaches us, but Angie merely folds her arms across her chest, giving me a critical once-over before turning her attention to Carla.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I say, offering my most charming smile.

“Cut the Casanova bullshit,” Angie snaps, her voice sharp as a blade.

I laugh—I’ve heard that before. I glance at Carla, who sighs and shrugs, clearly used to her cousin’s bluntness.

Angie looks back at Carla. “No wonder her children won’t lift the veil. This dude’s slept with more women than Satan himself.”

I hold up my hand, still chuckling. “Hold on. While I understand your apprehension, I can assure you my loyalty is to Carla, now and forever. My heart beats for her.”

Angie rolls her eyes. “Too bad your dick wasn’t loyal enough to wait for her.”

Carla groans, and Angie turns away, motioning for us to follow. “Come on to the Witching Library. It’s just down the hall. Damon, Kade, Queen Anora, and Selene are already inside waiting for us.”

I glance at Jacob, who’s looking at me with undisguised disgust. I laugh softly and adjust my suit. These holier-than-thou wolf shifters always think they’re better than everyone else. Please give me a fucking break. They’re more flawed than the rest of us.

I look down at Carla, smiling at the fact that she doesn’t seem ashamed of me. She looks up, meeting my gaze, and shrugs.

“I know your past,” she says quietly. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you.” She reaches for my hand, squeezing it gently. “Don’t worry about it, Amari. I’ll admit that it stings, but I can’t turn off my love for you. I won’t.”

I stop walking, cupping her face between my palms, staring into her eyes intently. “My loyalty is to you and only you.”

“I know that,” she says simply. “Now can we go figure out how to lift the veil so I can claim my man?”

I steal a kiss from her, deep and passionate, pouring all my love into it. When I pull back, her eyes are slightly glazed, her lips parted. I take her hand and pull her toward the library where Angie stands tapping her foot impatiently against the floor.

She isn’t the most welcoming, but I understand why. She doesn’t approve of me with Carla, and it’s a fair assessment. My track record doesn’t actually give me a good report.

We enter the library, a vast circular room with bookshelves stretching from floor to ceiling. Anora stands between Kade and Damon, regal in a flowing emerald gown that complements her golden-brown skin and emphasizes her status as queen. Selene sits at a massive oak table, carefully turning the brittle pages of what appears to be an ancient journal.

Angie walks past us, flicking her fingers in a casual gesture that reveals her deep connection to her magic. I marvel at the ease with which she commands her power—the subtle blue-green glow at her fingertips, the way the air seems to ripple around her hands.

Carla leans into me. “Angie is very in touch with her magic, more than all of us Blackwoods. It just seems to come to her naturally.”

I smile down at her, staying close as we watch Angie work. Blue-green hues of magic flow from her fingertips like ribbons of liquid light, wrapping around a large book on a distant shelf. The tome lifts into the air, surrounded by a soft glow, and floats toward us. As it approaches, the book opens on its own, pages flipping quickly until it settles on what must be the desired section.

Carla walks around me to look inside, and I follow, peering over her shoulder at the revealed pages.