Page 42 of Claws for Celebration (Hollow Oak Mates #3)

MOIRA

T he first thing Moira became aware of was warmth. Not the burning sensation of magic overwhelming her system, but the gentle, steady heat of sunlight streaming through familiar windows and the solid presence of someone holding her hand like a lifeline.

The second thing was the sound of Lucien's voice, rough with exhaustion.

"Mountain laurel blooms in late spring and requires well-drained acidic soil," he was saying, his thumb tracing absent patterns across her knuckles. "Native to the Appalachian region and beloved by local wildlife, though all parts of the plant are toxic to humans when ingested."

"Planning to poison someone?" she whispered, her voice coming out as barely more than a croak.

The botanical guide hit the floor with a satisfying thud as Lucien's head snapped up, his dark green eyes wide with disbelief and relief in equal measure. "Moira? Oh, thank God. You're awake."

"How long?" she asked, though part of her wasn't sure she wanted to know. The last clear memory she had was the dimensional breach closing behind Malphas's banished form, followed by pain beyond description and then... nothing.

"Five days," Lucien said, his free hand coming up to her face with reverent gentleness. "Five days of you scaring the hell out of everyone who cares about you."

Five days. No wonder he looked like he'd been through a war zone, with dark circles under his eyes and several days' worth of stubble shadowing his jaw. His usually perfect hair was disheveled, and his clothes looked like he'd been sleeping in them.

"You look terrible," she said fondly, managing to lift her hand enough to touch the stubble on his cheek.

His laugh was shaky with relief. "You should see yourself, beautiful. Though honestly, you're still the most gorgeous thing I've ever laid eyes on."

The bedroom door burst open without ceremony, admitting Twyla carrying a tea service that smelled like heaven mixed with healing herbs. She took one look at Moira's open eyes and promptly burst into tears.

"Oh, honey," Twyla sobbed, setting down the tray with trembling hands. "We were so worried. You've been floating somewhere between here and gone for days, and Lucien's been wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing."

"I wasn't pacing," Lucien protested mildly. "I was maintaining a vigil."

"Same difference," Twyla said with a watery laugh, pouring steaming tea into a delicate cup painted with protective symbols. "Here, sweetheart. This will help restore your strength."

The tea was incredible, warming her from the inside out while somehow making her feel more connected to her own body. With each sip, the floating sensation that had plagued her since awakening began to fade, replaced by the comfortable weight of existing fully in the physical world again.

"How do you feel?" Lucien asked, his intense scrutiny suggesting he was cataloging every nuance of her recovery.

"Different," Moira said honestly, taking inventory of her magical senses. "The power is still there, but it feels... settled. Like it's finally found its proper place."

She reached out experimentally with her blood magic, half-expecting the chaotic surges that had characterized her awakening period. Instead, golden energy flowed from her fingers in perfectly controlled streams, responding to her will with an obedience that felt natural rather than forced.

"It's not fighting me anymore," she marveled, watching as the magical threads wove themselves into intricate protective patterns around the room. "I can actually feel what it wants to do, and it's not destruction or domination. It's... guardianship."

"Because that's what you are," Twyla said with satisfaction. "A Guardian Witch, born and bred. Your magic knows its purpose now that the corruption's been cleared away."

"The grimoire," Moira said suddenly, looking around the room for the ancient tome that had been her constant companion and tormentor. "Where is it?"

"Downstairs," Lucien said. "And you'll be happy to know it's become exactly what it appears to be. Just an old book filled with historical information about your family. No more whispers, no more psychological manipulation. Malphas's influence died with him."

Relief flooded through her so powerfully that tears gathered in her eyes. "It's really over?"

"It's really over," he confirmed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "You saved everyone, love. The entire supernatural world owes you a debt that can never be repaid."

Before she could respond, Elena appeared in the doorway carrying what looked like official documents sealed with the Council's distinctive wax seal.

"Perfect timing," Elena said with a warm smile. "I was hoping you'd wake up before the formal ceremony."

"What ceremony?" Moira asked, though she suspected she already knew from the way Lucien's expression had turned pleased and proud.

"The Council's official recognition of your new position," Elena explained, settling into the chair Twyla vacated for her. "As of this morning, you are formally appointed as Hollow Oak's Guardian Witch, with all the rights and responsibilities that title entails."

The words should have felt overwhelming, but instead they rested on her like a comfortable cloak. This was what she'd been moving toward since the moment she'd stepped off the bus in Hollow Oak six weeks ago. Not just magical awakening, but true belonging.

"What exactly does that mean?" she asked, though she was already reaching for the documents with curiosity.

"It means you're officially part of the Council structure," Elena said.

"A voice in supernatural governance, access to resources and support networks, protection under supernatural law.

But mostly, it means acknowledgment of what everyone here already knows.

This is your home, and we're your people. "

"The paperwork also includes some very nice benefits," Twyla added with a grin. "Magical supply allowances, access to the Council's research libraries, and a stipend that should let you and Lucien fix up the bookstore properly."

"And," Elena continued with obvious delight, "formal recognition of your mate bond with our favorite panther shifter. The Council was quite impressed by how your connection anchored you through the banishment ritual."

Lucien's hand found hers again, their fingers intertwining with the easy intimacy of a couple who'd been through the impossible together and emerged stronger for it.

"So I'm officially a supernatural citizen now?" Moira asked, marveling at how right the idea felt.

"You always were," Lucien said softly. "The paperwork just makes it legal."

As afternoon light shifted through the windows and friends continued arriving to welcome her back to the land of the living, Moira felt something she'd never experienced before.

Complete and utter belonging. Not because of what she could do or what she'd accomplished, but because of who she was and how much these people valued her presence in their lives.

"I want to see the bookstore," she said suddenly, surprising herself with the urgency in her voice. "I want to make sure it's really real, that I'm really home."

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."