Page 10 of Unbearable Attraction (Hollow Oak Mates #4)

LEENAH

T he afternoon had melted into evening without Leenah noticing, the bookstore's warm lighting replacing natural sunlight so gradually that she'd lost track of time entirely.

Her notes covered three pages now, cross-referencing the historical map locations with her grandmother's journals and the pattern of supernatural disturbances throughout town.

But despite the important work spread before her, she found herself increasingly distracted by the man sitting beside her.

Luka handled the ancient books with a reverence that spoke to someone who understood the value of old things.

His large hands, scarred from years of woodworking, turned pages with surprising gentleness, as if he knew these texts contained more than just words—they held the accumulated wisdom and pain of generations.

She'd expected a bear shifter to be all brute strength and protective instincts, but watching him work revealed a careful precision that made her all too aware of his hands, among other things.

"According to this genealogy," he said, his deep voice carrying that now-familiar rumble that seemed to vibrate through her bones, "your family line goes back to some of the original settlers. Salem refugees who helped negotiate the first agreements with the Cherokee spirits."

"Makes sense," Leenah replied, trying to focus on his words rather than the way his amber eyes caught the lamplight when he looked up from the text.

"My grandmother always said we had obligations to the land that went deeper than property deeds. And I knew we had family from Salem, just didn’t know they had come here then too. "

"Obligations she taught you to honor?"

"Obligations she taught me to fear. My family has a long history of magical contracts that demanded too much from the people who signed them."

Luka's expression darkened, and when he spoke again, his voice carried that protective rumble that made her chest feel warm. "No one's going to demand anything from you that you're not willing to give. Whatever these spirits want, we'll find a way to handle it that doesn't put you at risk."

The casual promise, delivered with such quiet certainty, was still catching her off guard.

She was used to handling supernatural complications alone, used to making difficult decisions based on incomplete information and hoping for the best. Having someone else consider her wellbeing as part of the equation felt foreign and unsettling and surprisingly comforting all at once.

"You don't know what they might ask for," she pointed out, though her protest lacked its usual sharpness.

"Doesn't matter." Luka's amber eyes met hers with steady determination. "Whatever it is, we'll figure it out."

Leenah had built her entire adult life around the principle of self-reliance, around never depending on anyone else for support or protection.

But the way Luka acted as if they were in this together, like he'd already made the decision to stand beside her regardless of consequences, made her feel less alone than she had in years.

"You might regret saying that," she said, aiming for levity but hearing the vulnerability that crept into her voice despite her best efforts.

"I doubt it."

The conversation had shifted into territory that felt too personal, too loaded with possibilities she wasn't ready to examine. Leenah turned back to her grandmother's journals, searching for safer ground in the familiar comfort of research and documentation.

"Look at this," she said, pointing to a passage dated 1954. "Grandmother mentions dreams about ceremony grounds deep in the forest, and a spirit named Aiyana who kept trying to show her the location."

"Aiyana?" Luka leaned closer to read over her shoulder, his warmth radiating against her side in a way that made concentrating on the text nearly impossible. "That's the name you heard in the cemetery."

"The same one." Leenah turned the page, acutely aware of how his proximity was affecting her ability to think clearly. "She's been trying to make contact for decades, waiting for someone with enough necromantic ability to bridge the gap between worlds."

"And that someone is you."

"Apparently." She glanced up to find his face much closer than she'd expected, close enough to see the flecks of gold in his amber eyes and the way his gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to meet her eyes.

The air between them felt charged again, heavy with the same tension that had nearly overwhelmed them earlier.

This time, it was Leenah who pulled back, busying herself with organizing papers that didn't need organizing. "We should probably call it a night. I've got enough information to start looking for these ceremony grounds, and you've probably got actual work to do tomorrow."

"Probably," Luka agreed, though he made no immediate move to gather his things. "It's getting late. I should walk you home."

"I can handle the three blocks between here and my cottage," she said automatically, even as part of her whispered that having his solid presence beside her might not be unwelcome.

"I know you can." Luka's tone carried no condescension, just simple acknowledgment of her capabilities. "But I'd feel better knowing you made it safely, especially after everything that's been happening."

"Fine," she said, surprising herself with how easily the agreement came. "But only because I don't want you worrying and doing something stupid like patrolling my neighborhood all night."

"I wasn't planning to patrol," Luka said, though something in his expression suggested he'd definitely considered it. "Much."

"You're terrible at lying."

"Good thing I don't make a habit of it."

They gathered their research materials in comfortable silence, the evening's work creating a sense of partnership that felt both natural and slightly dangerous.

Working with Luka was easier than she'd expected.

He asked intelligent questions, offered useful insights, and managed to be protective without being overbearing.

All qualities that made him far too appealing for her peace of mind.

The air bit through her jacket as they stepped outside, carrying the promise of winter's first snow.

Their breath misted in the cold, and Leenah pulled her scarf tighter as they walked the familiar path toward her cottage.

Luka matched his pace to hers, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not so close as to crowd her.

Another small consideration that suggested he was paying attention to her comfort levels.

"Thank you," she said as they approached her garden gate. "For today, I mean. Having a research partner made the work go faster than usual."

"Thank you for letting me help," Luka replied. "I know working with others isn't exactly your preference."

"No, it's not." She stopped at the gate, turning to face him in the pale light from her porch. "But this was... nice. Having someone who understands and doesn't think I'm crazy for talking to the dead."

Something warm flickered in his amber eyes. "You're not crazy. You're gifted, and brave, and probably the only person in Hollow Oak who can solve this mess."

The sincere compliment made heat rise in her cheeks, and she was grateful for the darkness that hid her blush. "Well, we'll see about that tomorrow when I start looking for mysterious ceremony grounds in the middle of the forest."

"We'll see," Luka corrected gently. "You're not doing this alone, remember?"

Before she could respond to that reminder, movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention.

Translucent figures were materializing around her cottage.

Dozens of them, their ethereal forms becoming more solid with each passing moment.

Native American spirits, their faces marked by centuries of accumulated sorrow and growing anger, stood in silent vigil around her home.

"Oh," she breathed, her hand instinctively reaching for Luka's arm. "That's new."

The spirits weren't threatening, exactly, but their presence carried a weight of expectation that made the air itself feel heavy.

Ancient eyes tracked her movement as she stood frozen at her garden gate, and she could feel the accumulated force of their desperate hope pressing against her consciousness.

"Aiyana," she called softly, addressing the elderly Cherokee woman whose spirit seemed to be leading the others. "I hear you. I'm trying to understand what you need."

The spirit leader stepped forward, her form solidifying until she looked almost completely human. When she spoke, her voice carried the weight of centuries and the pain of broken promises.

"Time grows short, daughter of Salem's blood," Aiyana said, her words echoing strangely in the cold air. "The barriers weaken. Soon, what was hidden will be hidden no more."

"What barriers?" Leenah asked, though she was beginning to suspect she already knew.

"The agreements that keep your sanctuary safe from those who would destroy it," Aiyana replied. "The pact must be renewed, or all will be lost."

The spirit's gaze shifted to Luka, and something like approval flickered in her ancient eyes. "The bear stands with you. Good. You will need his strength for what comes."

Before either of them could ask what she meant, the spirits began to fade, their translucent forms dissolving into the November mist. Aiyana was the last to disappear, her final words hanging in the air like a warning.

"The ceremony grounds remember, even when the living forget. Find them, child of between. Before the next dark moon rises."

And then they were gone, leaving Leenah and Luka alone in the sudden quiet of her garden with the weight of supernatural expectations settling around them like a shroud.