Page 15

NICHOLAS

N icholas stared at the ancient relic nestled in the palm of his hand, its weathered surface cool against his skin despite having been in his pocket all day. In the three days since he'd agreed to spend more time with Sylvie, this damned piece of carved stone had developed a disturbing new habit.

He traced the etched symbols with his thumb, remembering the first time it had happened.

They'd been in her shop after hours, discussing containment spells for problematic shifter energy.

The conversation had veered into an argument about boundary magic—something about her insistence that his tiger needed tighter constraints.

The moment her voice had risen and his jaw had clenched, a faint amber glow had emanated from his pocket.

It happened again yesterday when they disagreed about dinner plans at The Gilded Fang. And just now, barely twenty minutes ago, as they'd bickered over proper handling of her ceremonial herbs at the counter of Moonshadow Apothecary.

"You're looking mighty suspicious there, tiger boy."

Nicholas closed his fist around the relic and whipped around to find Rollo leaning against the fence post at Shifter's Rest. The older bear shifter's streaked beard couldn't hide his knowing smile.

"Just checking the time." Nicholas slipped the stone back into his pocket.

"On a rock?" Rollo arched a bushy eyebrow. "That why you've been walking around like you've got fire ants in your drawers?"

Nicholas shouldered past him toward the red wolf enclosure. "Don't you have a sanctuary to manage?"

"Already did my rounds." Rollo fell into step beside him. "So, how's that mate bond treating you? Still pretending it doesn't exist?"

The mention of the bond made Nicholas's tiger stir beneath his skin. Ever since that painful shift in Sylvie's presence, his animal had been more insistent, more volatile.

"We're... working on it." Nicholas checked the feeding schedule on the clipboard hanging outside the enclosure.

"Working on it?" Rollo snorted. "That why I saw you two arguing on Main Street yesterday like an old married couple? The witch looked ready to set your pants on fire—and not in the fun way."

Nicholas's lips quirked despite himself. "She doesn't pull punches."

"And you like that about her."

It wasn't a question. Nicholas didn't answer, but the warmth spreading through his chest was answer enough.

He'd spent the past few days discovering layers to Sylvie Sage that he'd never anticipated.

Her biting sarcasm masked a fierce loyalty to her customers.

Behind her practicality lay a reverence for old traditions that surprised him.

And beneath her prickly exterior was a woman who sang softly to her plants when she thought no one was listening.

"She's..." Nicholas searched for words that wouldn't give too much away.

"Your mate," Rollo finished for him. "No matter how much you try to deny it."

"It's complicated."

"Only because you're making it that way." Rollo nodded toward Nicholas's pocket. "That thing you're carrying around—it affecting the bond?"

Nicholas's head snapped up. "How did you?—"

"Been around a long time, boy. I recognize trouble when I smell it." The older shifter's eyes narrowed. "You planning on telling her about it?"

The relic seemed to grow heavier in Nicholas's pocket. "When the time is right. Plus I have no idea if it's this thing or not. We may just like to argue."

Rollo shook his head. "Secrets and mates don't mix well. Take it from someone who learned the hard way."

The advice hung in the air as Nicholas completed his evening rounds. By the time he finished, dusk had fallen, and he found himself driving not toward his cabin but to the outskirts of town, where a small cottage stood amid a riot of wildflowers and herb gardens.

Hazel Fairweather answered his knock before his hand left the door, as if she'd been expecting him. The elderly dryad's silver hair was pulled into a messy bun, and her bright blue eyes twinkled with mischief.

"Well now, the tiger comes calling." She ushered him inside. "I was wondering when you'd show up."

Nicholas ducked under the doorframe of the cottage. "Sylvie mentioned she talked to you about the..." He gestured to the violet band on his wrist.

"The mate bond?" Hazel chuckled. "Yes, your little witch was quite distressed about it. Tea?"

Before he could answer, she placed a steaming mug in his hands. The scent of chamomile and something earthy filled his nostrils.

"I need your help with something else." Nicholas reached into his pocket and placed the relic on her cluttered kitchen table.

Hazel's expression sobered immediately. She didn't touch the stone, merely leaned over to examine it, her wrinkled face illuminated by the kitchen's warm light.

"Where did you find this?" Her voice had lost its earlier warmth. He was beginning to notice a pattern.

"Buried near an old mating circle in Echo Woods."

"And you thought it wise to dig it up and carry it around?" She clicked her tongue. "You shifters and your impulsivity."

Nicholas bristled. "I didn't know what it was."

"And now?"

"Now it glows whenever Sylvie and I argue." He leaned forward. "What is it, Hazel?"

The witch's fingers hovered over the stone, not quite touching it. "It's a bond stone. Ancient magic, from before the separation of the clans. They were used in mating rituals gone sour."

"Sour how?"

"When fated mates rejected their bond, these stones were sometimes used to... encourage the connection." Her expression grew grim. "Not always with the happiest results."

Nicholas felt his tiger growl beneath his skin. "It's feeding off our arguments, isn't it? The tension between us."

Hazel nodded slowly. "Emotional energy is powerful magic, Nicholas.

Especially between mates." She finally touched the stone with one finger, and it pulsed with amber light.

"This relic wants what all bond stones want—completion.

It wants a bond to adhere to. And if it was corrupted by a broken one before, then this is nothing but bad news because whatever plagued that bond will plague yours and possibly… be your demise."

Nicholas swallowed hard. "It will take any bond?"

Hazel's penetrating gaze fixed on him, seeing far more than he was comfortable with.

"No, tiger. It wants yours." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And it will keep glowing brighter until it gets what it wants—or destroys what's in its way."