Page 21 of Furever Bound (Hollow Oak Mates #7)
SERA
T he afternoon light slanted through Maddox's study windows with the golden quality that only came with late October, casting warm shadows across the floor where Sera sat surrounded by folklore texts and trying to process the reality of her new life.
The temperature had dropped another ten degrees since morning, and she could smell woodsmoke from chimneys throughout Hollow Oak as residents prepared for what promised to be an unusually cold Halloween.
"Find anything interesting?" Maddox asked, returning from his Council meeting with the kind of tension in his shoulders that suggested the news hadn't been entirely positive.
"Disturbing might be a better word," she replied, gesturing to the historical accounts spread around her. "I've been reading about previous manifestation incidents, and the pattern is... not encouraging."
She'd spent the past three hours diving into records that painted a picture of folklore manifestations growing progressively stronger and more dangerous until they either consumed their catalysts entirely or were contained through methods that usually involved significant community casualties.
"The 1847 incident ended with the death of the woman whose grief triggered the manifestation," she continued, studying his face for reactions. "The 1923 case required the combined efforts of six trained witches and still resulted in two permanent disappearances. And 1956..."
"1956 was resolved through narrative restructuring," Maddox said, sitting down across from her. "Successfully, with minimal casualties."
"After the catalyst voluntarily merged with the manifestation to redirect its purpose from destruction to protection," she finished, having read that particular account three times to make sure she understood correctly. "She didn't die, but she didn't remain human either."
The implications hung between them like a challenge, and she watched his jaw tighten as he processed what she'd discovered in his absence.
"Sera," he began with the careful tone he used when he was about to say something she wouldn't want to hear.
"You're going to tell me not to consider it," she interrupted, closing the book with deliberate finality. "You're going to explain why transformation methods that require catalyst involvement are too dangerous to attempt."
"Because they are too dangerous," he said, his shifter instincts leaking into his voice despite obvious efforts to remain diplomatically neutral. "Because the failure rate is catastrophic, and because losing you isn't an acceptable solution to any problem."
"Even if losing me saves an entire community?" she asked, testing his reaction to scenarios she'd been contemplating all afternoon.
"Especially then," he replied without hesitation. "Sera, you've been part of this community for barely a week. You don't owe us your life or your humanity to fix a crisis that existed long before you arrived."
"But I do owe you honesty about my abilities," she said, studying his face for signs of the reaction she was about to provoke. "And the truth is, I can feel Grimjaw when night falls. Not just awareness that it's hunting—actual connection to its energy, its purpose, its growing strength."
His sharp intake of breath suggested this was new information that confirmed his worst fears about her level of connection to the manifestation.
"Since when?" he asked, his scholarly instincts warring with protective panic.
"Since last night," she admitted. "When it was stalking around the inn, when I used the LED light to drive it back—I could sense what it was thinking, what it wanted. It wasn't just hunting randomly. It was specifically looking for me."
"Because you're its catalyst," Maddox said grimly. "The connection between manifestation and originator always strengthens as the entity becomes more substantial."
"Which means I might be the only person who can actually communicate with it," she pointed out with the kind of logical problem-solving reserved for business. "The only one who could potentially guide transformation rather than just hoping containment methods work."
"Or the only person it can absorb most efficiently," he countered, his protective instincts clearly warring with intellectual honesty about their tactical situation.
They sat in silence for several moments, both processing implications. Through the windows, Sera could see residents preparing for Halloween with the kind of serious attention that suggested holiday preparations had evolved into community defense strategies.
"Tell me about the mating process," she said, deliberately changing the subject before they could spiral deeper into discussions of sacrifice and transformation. "Not the supernatural law aspects or the community protection benefits. Tell me what it means for us, personally."
The shift from crisis planning to relationship development caught him off guard, and she watched his expression soften as he focused on possibilities rather than threats.
"It means choosing each other consciously and completely," he said, his voice losing its tense edge as he described something that clearly mattered deeply to him. "Physical intimacy, yes, but also emotional vulnerability that goes beyond anything either of us has experienced before."
"Emotional vulnerability how?"
"Sharing fears, dreams, the parts of ourselves we usually keep hidden," he explained, reaching across the space between them to trace patterns on her palm with fingertips that made her skin tingle with awareness.
"For shapeshifters, it also means sharing our animal nature—not just the enhanced senses and protective instincts, but the primal parts of our personalities that we usually keep controlled. "
"Your wolf," she said, remembering the intensity she'd glimpsed in his eyes during moments of stress or anger.
"My wolf," he confirmed. "The part of me that recognized you as mate before my rational mind caught up, that wants to claim and protect and possess in ways that might seem overwhelming."
"And for me?" she asked, studying the way his thumb traced across her knuckles with reverent attention.
"For you, it means accepting that connection, letting yourself be claimed while also claiming in return," he said, his voice dropping to the rough register. "It means trusting me with parts of yourself you've never shared with anyone."
The careful hope mixed with desire in his blue eyes, made her aware that this involved the kind of complete intimacy she'd spent years avoiding in favor of relationships that protected her professional image. But now, it didn’t seem like anything she wanted to stray away from.
"I want that," she said, surprised by how certain she sounded. "Not because of community politics or crisis management, but because you make me feel more authentic than anything I've experienced in years."
"Even knowing what accepting the mate bond could mean for your safety?" he asked, his protective instincts clearly warring with desire for the connection she was offering.
"Especially knowing that," she replied, leaning forward until they were close enough that she could see the silver flecks in his eyes.
"Because if something's going to threaten my safety anyway, I'd rather face it as someone who belongs somewhere, with someone who sees me as more than just a useful ability or an interesting research subject. "
The last barrier between them seemed to dissolve as he recognized the depth of commitment in her words, and when he reached up to cup her face with hands that trembled slightly from controlled desire, the electric connection between them intensified until it felt like coming alive.
"Sera," he said, her name rough with want and something deeper that made her heart race with anticipation.
"Yes," she whispered, understanding the question he hadn't yet asked.
When he kissed her, it felt like everything she'd been unconsciously waiting for—desperate and tender and absolutely right.
Outside, the October wind rattled the windows with promises of winter, but inside, souls were recognizing what they'd been missing, of two people choosing to build something together despite the uncertainty of what tomorrow might bring.