Page 48 of Enchanting the Alpha (Mystic Hollow #1)
FORTY-EIGHT
“ M y café-” Romi protested weakly.
“Will be fine,” Clover cut in firmly. “Thane’s on his way. We’ll handle cleanup and keep an eye on things. You focus on healing.”
The trip to her cottage passed in a blur of pain and exhaustion. Xabir’s arms remained steady around her, though she could still feel the slight tremor in his muscles. Whiskers ran ahead, darting back occasionally to check on them, leaving a trail of worried silver sparkles in his wake.
Xabir shouldered open her door without breaking stride, carrying her straight to the bathroom. There, he took all the bits of glass from her clothes and hair. Then he took her into their bedroom - and it was theirs now, had been for weeks, his clothes hanging next to hers in the closet, his books on the nightstand, the sheets carrying their mingled scents.
With infinite gentleness, he settled her on the bed. His eyes never left her face as he asked, “Do you want something from your closet or somewhere else? I still see some small bits of glass on your clothes.”
“Top drawer in my dresser.” She tried to sit up, but the room spun alarmingly. “I can- whoa!”
“Stay still, sweetheart.” The endearment softened his alpha tone, but the worry lines around his eyes deepened. He retrieved her favorite soft sleep clothes, then hesitated. “I can help you. Unless you can you manage?”
“I can manage.” Her cheeks warmed despite everything. “But... stay close?”
“Nothing could get me out of here. I’m just gonna get the potion the elders gave you. I put it on the bathroom counter.” He pressed a soft kiss to her temple before stepping into their adjoining bathroom, leaving the door cracked. “Call if you need help.”
Once she was settled back against their pillows, Xabir returned with the golden potion from Madame Zephyrine and a glass of water. He helped her drink both, his free hand smoothing her hair back from her face with such tender care that tears pricked her eyes. Whiskers settled on her pillow, his tiny form curled protectively near her head.
“Try to rest, my love.” Xabir’s voice roughened with emotion as he leaned down to capture her lips in a soft, sweet kiss. The gentleness of it, contrasted with the tension still visible in his shoulders, spoke volumes about his fear and relief. He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers. “I’ll be right here.”
True to his word, he settled onto the loveseat near their bed, pulling out his phone to work remotely. His jaw clenched as he coordinated with his team, voice pitched low to avoid disturbing her.
“What do you mean Bastian’s not in town?” The sharp question caught her attention. Xabir’s fingers tightened on his phone until his knuckles went white. “When did he leave? ...Are you certain? ...No, this changes things. The magic was too powerful for a long-distance attack. Keep digging. Someone targeted her specifically, and I want to know who.”
His gaze kept returning to her between calls, watching the rise and fall of her chest as if to reassure himself she was still breathing. Every few minutes, he’d reach across the space between them to brush her arm or straighten her blanket, small touches that seemed as necessary to him as air.
Romi drifted in and out of consciousness, lulled by the steady murmur of his voice and Whiskers’s soft crooning. When she fully woke hours later, the afternoon sun painted golden stripes across their quilt. Xabir sat exactly where she’d last seen him, though he’d shed his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He worked one-handed on his laptop, his other hand stretched across the space between them to maintain contact with her arm.
The dark magic’s corruption had faded to a dull ache, thanks to Madame Zephyrine’s potion. More healing was the sight of Xabir’s quiet vigilance. He’d arranged water, more potions, and her favorite lemon cookies on the bedside table. A notebook near his feet contained what looked like defensive strategies sketched in his precise handwriting.
“Hey.” Her voice came out raspy.
His head snapped up instantly, laptop forgotten. Relief softened the tense lines around his mouth. “Hey, yourself. How do you feel?”
“Like I picked a fight with a magical cement mixer.” She managed a weak smile. “But better.”
He moved to perch carefully on the edge of their bed, one warm hand cupping her cheek. The muscle in his jaw jumped as he struggled for words. “You scared me today. When I sensed that dark magic...” His thumb traced her cheekbone with infinite care. “If anything happened to you...”
“I’m okay.” She covered his hand with hers, noting how his fingers still trembled slightly against her skin. “Really.”
“You’re not leaving my sight until we figure out who did this.” He leaned down to press his lips to her forehead, lingering there as if drawing strength from the contact. “I can’t... I won’t risk losing you.”
Before she could respond, a knock sounded at her front door. Xabir straightened and left the room to return a minute later.
“It’s Neve and the others,” he said, helping her sit up against her pillows. His arm stayed wrapped around her shoulders, supporting and protective. “They want to discuss additional protective measures. Are you up for visitors?”
She nodded, grateful for his solid presence at her side. “We need to figure this out. Whoever did this... they won’t stop with one attack.”
His arms tightened around her as he pressed another kiss to her temple. Whiskers zipped to the doorway to escort their visitors.
“Ready?” Xabir’s voice carried a wealth of meaning - love, protection, partnership.
“Absolutely,” she agreed, leaning into his strength as voices approached their bedroom. Whatever darkness targeted her, she wasn’t facing it alone anymore. And judging by the fierce protectiveness radiating from every line of Xabir’s body, anyone who tried to hurt her again would deeply regret it.
Neve swept in first, her silver hair gleaming in the afternoon light. Madame Zephyrine followed, carrying an ornate wooden box that hummed with protective magic. Behind them came Bella, her arms full of ancient texts, and Felix. Whiskers darted between them all, ensuring everyone made it safely inside.
“How are you feeling, dear one?” Neve perched on the edge of the bed, her cool hand testing Romi’s forehead. “The corruption is fading, but not as quickly as I’d like.”