Page 19 of Fetch Me A Mate (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #1)

DIANA

T he Hearth & Hollow glowed like a lantern against the autumn night. Every window blazed with warm light, and the sound of laughter spilled from the open doors onto the square. Diana stood in the parlor doorway, watching her first official gathering unfold with a mixture of pride and disbelief.

It was working. All of it.

"This is perfect," said Mrs. Simonson, balancing a bowl of her famous dumplings. "Just like the old days, but better."

"The paint smell's finally gone," added Tom Brewster, setting up his camera to capture the evening. "Place feels alive again."

Couches had been pulled into intimate circles around the fireplace.

The long dining table groaned under covered dishes that kept arriving despite Diana's protests that she had enough food.

Freya's herb bundles hung from the mantel, filling the air with sage and rosemary.

Edgar Tansley had brought something that sparkled suspiciously in unmarked bottles.

"You've outdone yourself," Miriam said, appearing at Diana's elbow with a cup of mulled cider. "Look at them. When's the last time you saw this many people genuinely happy to be in the same room?"

Diana accepted the cider, its warmth seeping through the ceramic into her palms. "They're celebrating the inn, not me."

"They're celebrating both. Whether you admit it or not." Miriam's eyes twinkled behind her spectacles. "How does it feel, being the heart of something?"

"Terrifying. Wonderful. Like I might wake up any minute."

"You won't. This is real, child. You've earned it."

Across the room, Diana caught sight of Rowan near the front windows. He'd positioned himself with his usual tactical awareness, back to the wall, eyes on the entrances. But something was different about his watchfulness tonight. Less protective surveillance, more quiet observation of her success.

"He's proud of you," Miriam said, following her gaze.

"He's making sure nobody causes trouble."

"Same thing, in wolf language." Miriam patted Diana's arm. "Go mingle, dear. Let people tell you how wonderful you are."

The next two hours passed in a blur of conversations and compliments. Diana moved through the crowd, making sure everyone had drinks, that the elderly had comfortable seats, that the children weren't getting underfoot in the kitchen.

"The renovation is beautiful," said Emmett, cornering Diana by the dessert table. "You've exceeded our expectations."

"Thank you. That means everything."

"The Council's impressed. This gathering was exactly what Hollow Oak needed to see." He lowered her voice. "Varric's talking about making your position permanent. No more trial period."

Diana's hand found the locket at her throat. "Really?"

"Really. Congratulations, innkeeper. You've found your place."

As the evening turned exceptionally late, people began to drift toward their coats and goodbyes. Diana stood by the fireplace, accepting thanks and promises to return soon.

"Best meal I've had in months," declared Rufus Tansley, shaking her hand with enthusiasm. "That stew recipe's a keeper."

"It was Twyla's contribution. I just stirred the pot."

"Modesty doesn't suit you," Freya said, embracing Diana warmly. "Own your success. This place is magical because of what you've brought to it."

"She's right," added Kieran, appearing with Diana's abandoned clipboard. "Found this in the kitchen. Your notes from tonight."

Diana glanced at the pages covered in her handwriting. Seating arrangements, food allergies, conversation topics to avoid. The careful orchestration that had made everything look effortless.

"You thought of everything," Kieran said. "That's not luck. That's skill."

One by one, the guests filtered out into the crisp night air, their voices carrying across the square as they made their way home. Diana stood in the doorway, watching the last car disappear around the corner.

"Success," declared Twyla, coming from the kitchen with an armload of serving dishes. "Unqualified, undeniable success."

"It was good, wasn't it?" Diana allowed herself a smile. "People seemed to enjoy themselves."

"People seemed to remember why they love this place. And why they're going to love having you run it." Twyla handed over the dishes. "I'll help you clean up tomorrow. Tonight, you should celebrate."

"I should clean up tonight while I have energy."

"You should rest tonight because you've earned it." Twyla pulled on her coat. "Take the advice of someone who's thrown a few gatherings in her time. The dishes will wait. The satisfaction won't."

After Twyla left, Diana found herself alone in the glowing parlor. The fire had burned down to embers, casting dancing shadows on walls that still held the laughter of the evening. Empty plates and glasses dotted every surface, evidence of a community that had gathered, shared, and belonged.

"That was something special."

Diana turned to find Rowan standing in the parlor entrance, hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He'd been so quiet during the evening that she'd almost forgotten he was there. Almost.

"You think so?"

"I know so." He stepped into the room, his presence filling the space in a way that made her suddenly aware of how alone they were. "You did good, Diana. Really good."

"Thank you." She began collecting empty glasses, needing something to do with her hands. "For everything. The renovation, the help, staying tonight to make sure everything went smoothly."

"That's not why I stayed."

The words stopped her mid-reach for a coffee cup. "No?"

"No." Rowan moved closer, close enough that she could see the way the firelight reflected in his pale eyes. "I stayed because watching you tonight... it was like watching someone finally find where they belong."

"And where's that?"

"Here. With these people. In this place." His voice dropped lower. "Being exactly who you were meant to be."

The compliment hit deeper than all the others combined. Diana set down the glasses and really looked at him. The careful distance he usually maintained had dissolved, replaced by something warmer, more present.

"What about you?" she asked quietly. "Where do you belong?"

For a moment, she thought he wouldn't answer. Then his mouth curved in the smallest of smiles.

"Starting to think I might belong wherever you are."

Her face flushed at his honesty and sudden vulnerability, loaded with possibility and promise. Diana felt her pulse quicken, her empathic gift picking up waves of want and uncertainty from him in equal measure.

"Rowan."

"I should go." But he didn't move. "Let you get some sleep. Big day tomorrow, probably."

"Probably." Diana stepped closer, emboldened by the evening's success and the way he was looking at her. "But not yet."

"Diana."

"Stay." The word came out softer than she intended, but no less certain. "Please. Just for a while."

"That's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

His jaw tightened. "Because if I stay, I'm not going to want to leave. And leaving might not be my choice to make."

The cryptic response frustrated her, but something in his tone suggested bigger forces at work than simple attraction.

"Then don't leave," she said simply. Diana reached up and touched his face, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "Stay, Rowan. Help me put out the lanterns. Have a drink by the fire. Let's be uncomplicated for once."

He leaned into her touch, his eyes drifting closed. "Diana."

"Please."

When he opened his eyes, they'd gone silver in the firelight. The careful control he always maintained had cracked, revealing something wild and hungry and utterly focused on her.

"One drink," he said roughly. "Then I go."

"One drink," she agreed, knowing they were both lying.

But as she moved to collect the wine bottle Edgar had left behind, Diana found herself hoping that whatever forces threatened to take Rowan away would give them at least this one night to be uncomplicated.

The last lantern could wait a little longer.