Page 23 of Fetch Me A Mate (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #1)

DIANA

D iana woke with purpose burning in her chest. Whatever was hunting Rowan, whatever had driven him to push her away yesterday morning, she wouldn't face it defenseless. The inn was more than her home now. It was Hollow Oak's heart, and she'd protect it the only way she knew how.

With community. With belonging. With love made manifest in signatures and promises.

The Hollow Oak Book Nook opened at nine. Diana was waiting on the doorstep when Lucien unlocked the front door, his dark hair falling across his forehead as he studied her with sharp green eyes.

"You look like someone with a mission," he said.

"I need help protecting something I love."

"Come in."

The bookstore wrapped around her like a cathedral, all dark wood and leather spines and the hushed reverence of accumulated wisdom. Moira emerged from the back room with tea and the kind of smile that suggested she'd been expecting this conversation.

"Good morning, Diana. How can we help?"

"Yesterday, some dangerous people came to the inn. They threatened Rowan, and by extension, they threatened my ability to keep this place safe." Diana accepted the tea gratefully. "I need to know how to ward something with more love than magic."

Lucien and Moira exchanged one of their wordless conversations, entire discussions happening in glances and subtle expressions.

"What kind of dangerous people?" Lucien asked.

"The shifter kind. The kind that make territorial claims and don't accept no for answers."

"Pack politics," Moira said quietly. "The worst kind."

"Can you help me or not?"

"We can." Lucien disappeared into the stacks, returning with an ancient leather-bound volume. "But it's not simple magic. What you're talking about requires community investment. Real investment, not just good intentions."

He opened the book to a page covered in spidery handwriting and detailed diagrams. "A protection ward anchored in belonging. It needs signatures from people who genuinely care about the place, who consider it part of their lives."

"How many signatures?"

"As many as you can get," Moira said. "But they have to be willing participants. People who understand what they're contributing to."

Diana studied the page, noting the careful instructions for gathering consent and channeling collective intention. "What do I tell them?"

"The truth," Lucien said simply. "That you're asking them to help protect something they value. That their signature represents a promise to stand by the inn and its purpose."

"And it'll work? Against pack threats?"

"It won't stop determined wolves," Moira admitted. "But it'll make them think twice about causing trouble on protected ground. Pack law respects certain boundaries, even when individual wolves don't."

Diana closed the book and held it against her chest. "Thank you."

"Diana." Lucien's voice stopped her at the door. "Be careful who you trust with this. Ward magic leaves traces. The wrong people will be able to sense what you're doing."

The square was coming alive with morning business as Diana began her canvas. First stop: Griddle & Grind, where Twyla was arranging fresh scones in the display case.

"I need signatures for a protection ward," Diana said without preamble. "People who care about the inn's future."

"How many people?"

"As many as I can get. Will you sign?"

Twyla didn't hesitate. "Course I will. What kind of protection are we talking about?"

"The kind that makes it difficult for unwelcome visitors to cause trouble."

"Those men from yesterday morning?"

"Among others."

Twyla pulled out a pen and signed her name with a flourish. "There. What else do you need?"

"Help spreading the word. Discreetly. I don't want to cause panic, just... gather support."

"Leave it to me."

Diana's next stop was the mercantile, where Edgar Tansley was arranging bottles of questionable contents on high shelves.

"Protection ward?" He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Haven't seen one of those in decades. You expecting trouble?"

"I'm preventing it."

"Smart. Rufus and I will sign, naturally. Place wouldn't be the same without the inn."

"Thank you."

"Course, you know what you're really doing, don't you?" Edgar's eyes twinkled with knowledge Diana wasn't sure she wanted. "You're claiming territory. Marking this place as yours in the oldest way possible."

"Is that bad?"

"Depends on who's watching. Some folks respect clear boundaries. Others see them as challenges."

Diana moved through the square methodically, gathering signatures from shopkeepers and residents who'd attended the Autumn Hearth Gathering.

Freya signed while arranging autumn flowers.

Cora signed as well after making sure she took some protection vials along with her.

Emmett signed with official gravity that suggested he understood exactly what Diana was attempting.

Each signature felt like a small victory, a thread in a web of protection she was weaving around the inn. People asked few questions but offered abundant support, as if they'd been waiting for someone to take this kind of stand.

By afternoon, Diana had two dozen signatures and a growing sense of confidence. The ward would work because the community wanted it to work. Because Hollow Oak had decided the inn was worth protecting.

She saved one line for last.

Rowan's truck sat empty in its usual spot behind the inn. Diana found her note still tucked under the windshield wiper, unread and unchanged. He hadn't been back since yesterday morning's confrontation.

But his tools were still scattered around the work sites, his project lists still taped to walls, his careful repairs still holding the building together. He might have pushed her away, but he hadn't abandoned his work. Yet.

Diana climbed to the second floor landing where he'd been installing new electrical outlets. The wire nuts were organized by color, the junction boxes mounted with precise spacing. Everything ready for final connections that required his expertise to complete.

She pulled out the ward paper and laid it flat on his workbench, adding his name to the bottom of the list in careful script. Not his signature, which she couldn't forge, but his name in her handwriting. A placeholder for the choice she hoped he'd make.

"This is your space too," she said aloud to the empty room. "If you want it."

Back in the lobby, Diana spread the signed ward paper on the reception desk and followed Moira's instructions for activation. Words of intention spoken over names freely given, collective will focused through individual consent.

The paper warmed under her hands as the magic took hold, subtle but unmistakable. The inn's protective boundaries solidified, not as walls but as welcome mats with very specific criteria for who qualified as welcome.

Diana tucked the ward paper into the inn's safe, next to the deed and insurance papers and other documents that proved ownership. Legal protection and magical protection, side by side.

Now she waited. For Rowan to return, for his dangerous visitors to make their next move, for whatever crisis was brewing to finally break the surface.

But she wouldn't wait passively. She'd claimed her territory, gathered her community, prepared her defenses. Whatever came next, the inn would be ready.