Page 24 of Enchanting the Alpha (Mystic Hollow #1)

TWENTY-FOUR

X abir paced his office at Lupo Hotel, the scent of witch magic still clinging to his clothes from helping Romi repair the garden. His alpha instincts bristled at the thought of someone deliberately causing trouble in his territory. Worse, they’d used shifter tracks to cast suspicion on his kind.

“The magical signature doesn’t match any of our pack,” Arlo said from his position by the window. His second-in-command’s usual playful demeanor had given way to focused intensity. “I checked myself.”

Wesley leaned against the desk, his tactical mind clearly working through scenarios. “Could be someone trying to drive a wedge between communities. The timing’s suspicious, right after you and Romi started seeing each other.”

Xabir’s jaw clenched. He and Romi had managed to repair the garden’s damage, but the incident had already sparked whispers of distrust again between witches and shifters. “We need to know if this is personal or political. Are we dealing with someone who wants all-out war, or just someone desperate to maintain separation?”

“Not many shifters still hold those old prejudices,” Wesley said, then paused. “Though Monroe Presley has been vocal about ‘maintaining traditional boundaries’ lately.”

Arlo snorted. “That old wolf? He barely has enough power to shift properly anymore.”

“His grandson Bastian’s shown some of the same attitudes,” Wesley added. “Made some disparaging comments about witches at the last pack gathering.”

The memory of Bastian’s sneer when discussing witch magic made Xabir’s alpha energy surge protectively. “Neither has caused trouble before. They’ve kept to themselves, only voicing opinions but nothing more.”

“Want us to look into them?” Arlo asked. “Discreetly?”

Xabir nodded. “Watch, but don’t engage. If they’re behind this, I want proof before making accusations.”

“Speaking of watching...” A familiar mischievous glint entered Arlo’s eyes. “How was your date with our lovely local witch?”

The sudden topic shift didn’t fool Xabir - he caught the knowing looks his friends exchanged. Still, thinking about Romi eased some of the tension in his shoulders. “It went well.”

“Just well?” Wesley pressed, grinning. “Because I heard the lanterns at the market turned into hearts. Somehow I doubt that was Romi’s doing, Mr. Perfect Control.”

Heat crept up Xabir’s neck. “Did you two have actual business to discuss, or did you just come to gossip?”

“We’re looking out for you,” Arlo said, his tone shifting to something more serious. “Romi’s special. And you’re not the only one who’s noticed.”

A low growl rumbled in Xabir’s chest before he could stop it. “Meaning?”

“Meaning I overheard three shifters and a warlock discussing whether she was seeing anyone,” Wesley said carefully. “And Felix’s nephew was asking about her at the last council meeting.”

Xabir’s alpha energy crackled, making the lights flicker. The thought of other men pursuing Romi made his wolf want to stake a very public claim.

“She’s not interested in them,” he said, but his claws had partially extended, leaving tiny scratches on his desk.

“Of course not,” Arlo agreed far too innocently. “She only loses magical control around certain alphas. But if you’re taking things slow...”

“I’m not taking anything slow,” Xabir growled. The kiss they’d shared at the market still burned in his memory. “I know what - who - I want.”

“Good.” Wesley clapped him on the shoulder. “Because that witch looks at you like you hung the moon. Don’t waste time overthinking it.”

“Now, about those scratch marks on your desk...” Arlo dodged the pen Xabir threw at his head, laughing. “I’m just saying, jealousy is very unbecoming of an alpha.”

“Get out,” Xabir ordered, but his lips twitched. “Both of you. Go investigate Monroe and Bastian. And stop gossiping about my love life.”

“Never,” they said in unison, heading for the door.

Alone, Xabir found himself staring at a coffee cup. His friends were right. He wasn’t about to let anyone else have a chance with her. Now he just had to catch whoever was trying to drive their communities apart.

His phone buzzed - his mother’s special ringtone. Xabir smiled despite his brooding thoughts. India Lupo had never quite mastered texting, preferring to call even for the smallest matters.

“Yes, Mother?”

“Don’t ‘yes, Mother’ me in that tone,” India said warmly. “You’re coming to dinner tonight. No excuses about work or pack business.”

Xabir glanced at his schedule, though he already knew he’d end up at the family estate regardless of what it said. No one said no to India Lupo. “Any particular occasion?”

“Does a mother need an occasion to feed her son? Though if you happened to bring a certain witch...”

“Mother.”

“I’m just saying, Romi loves my apple tart. Petra mentioned she was practically purring over it at the picnic.”