A Roar for Magic (Mystic Hollow #2)

Prologue

PROLOGUE

“ I spy with my little eye...” Banner’s deep voice filled the Tesla’s interior as they wound along the mountain road toward Mystic Hollow.

“We’re not playing I Spy again.” Rook shot his best friend an exasperated look. “What are you, twelve?”

“Someone’s grumpy.” Banner grinned, completely unfazed. “But seriously, how many times are you going to check your phone? The spa’s construction plans won’t magically change in the next five minutes.”

Rook slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket, ignoring both Banner’s knowing smirk and his own tiger’s restless pacing beneath his skin. The familiar scents of pine, mountain air, and magic grew stronger as they descended into the valley, stirring memories he’d spent years burying in boardrooms and business meetings.

His tiger rumbled at the thought of home, more animated than it had been in months. The beast had grown weary of their carefully structured city life - the endless meetings, the sterile office environments, the superficial dating scene where women were more interested in his bank account than any real connection.

“One week,” Rook muttered, more to convince himself than Banner. “We check on Grandmother, launch the spa project, then back to civilization.”

Banner snorted. “Right. Because your grandmother, sister, and that matchmaking tiger of yours will just let you slip away that easily.”

Rook’s tiger perked up at the mention of finding a mate, and he ruthlessly squashed the hopeful flutter. “The tiger can want what it wants. I have a business to run.”

“Keep telling yourself that, buddy.” Banner’s voice softened. “But maybe it’s not just the tiger that’s tired of being alone.”

Before Rook could respond to that uncomfortably accurate observation, his phone buzzed with a text from Sabine: Wait until you meet my new friend! She’s AMAZING - you two would be perfect together. No arguments about coming to dinner tonight.

“See?” Banner leaned over to read the message. “Your sister’s already plotting.”

“Sabine’s always plotting.” But Rook couldn’t quite suppress the tiny spark of curiosity. His sister might be overenthusiastic about matchmaking, but she also had an uncanny knack for reading people.

They pulled over at Fuller’s Ridge, the unofficial welcome point where the valley opened up to reveal Mystic Hollow below. The late afternoon sun painted the Victorian buildings in shades of amber and rose while enchanted lanterns began to bob along the cobblestone streets. The lake shimmered with its characteristic otherworldly glow, and wisps of magical energy danced through the air like the Aurora Borealis.

Rook’s tiger drank in the sight hungrily. Here, magic flowed freely through the streets instead of being carefully contained in corporate boardrooms. Here, shifters could run wild in the surrounding forests without fear of discovery. Here...here, they might actually find?—

Rook cut that thought off before it could fully form. He hadn’t come home to find a mate. No matter how much his tiger yearned for that deep connection, that sense of belonging he’d never quite found in his meticulously planned life.

“Still beautiful,” Banner murmured, his usual joking manner vanishing. “Remember when we used to race our bikes down this hill?”

“Remember when you crashed into Mrs. Peterson’s enchanted rosebushes and they chased you around town?”

“Those roses held a grudge for years.” Banner rubbed his arm reflexively. “Pretty sure they’d still snap at me if I walked past.”

The Tesla’s navigation system crackled with magical interference as they continued down into the valley. A Mystic Moment rippled through the air, temporarily turning their sleek black car a shocking shade of hot pink.

“Don’t.” Rook pointed at Banner without looking. “Not one word.”

Banner held up his hands in mock surrender, but his shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. By the time they reached the wrought-iron gates of the Katz estate, the car had returned to its proper color and Banner had mostly contained his delight.

The gates swung open at their approach, and they drove past gardens where enchanted roses turned to track their movement. Rook’s mother, Azella, waited on the front steps with Mrs. Fontain, both women beaming at their arrival.

“My baby!” Azella rushed forward as Rook emerged from the car, enveloping him in a hug that belied her elegant appearance. “You’re too thin. Are you eating? Banner, is he eating?”

“I try to force-feed him occasionally,” Banner replied solemnly. “But he’s very stubborn about everything - food, sleep, dating...”

“I’m a grown man running a multinational corporation,” Rook protested but hugged his mother back. A tiny part of him had missed this - the warmth, the casual affection so different from his carefully maintained corporate image.

“Clearly not grown enough to take care of yourself properly.” Azella pulled back to study his face. “Those circles under your eyes! All work and no play makes for a very lonely tiger, darling.”

His tiger rumbled in reluctant agreement. The beast had been pushing lately for more than their ordered, solitary existence - more connection, more passion, more...everything.

“Speaking of play,” a new voice called from the doorway. Sabine bounded down the steps, her honey-blonde hair flying. “Just wait until you hear about my new friend! She’s absolutely perfect?—”

“No.” Rook tried to step around his sister, but she was surprisingly quick for someone in four-inch heels.

“She’s brilliant and so down-to-earth. Has this amazing way with plants, and she makes these incredible magical remedies?—”

“Still no.”

“But she has the most gorgeous green eyes, and she’s completely genuine. No corporate fakery or social climbing, just pure?—”

“Wait.” Lane’s voice carried from the top of the steps where he lounged against a column with his usual casual grace. “Are you talking about who I think you’re talking about?” His eyes narrowed. “Because if you mean the enchanting proprietor of a certain herbal shop downtown, I already called dibs.”

“You can’t call dibs on a person,” Sabine retorted. “Besides, she’s perfect for Rook. They have this whole complementary magic thing going on?—”

“I saw her first!”

“You’re literally a child.”

“I’m twenty-three!”

“My point exactly.”

Rook’s tiger stirred with unexpected interest. Whoever this mystery woman was, she’d managed to spark a genuine argument between his nephew and sister - both of whom usually united in their efforts to meddle in his love life rather than opposing each other.

“Perhaps,” Mrs. Fontain interrupted smoothly, “Mr. Rook would like to settle in before the interrogation about his love life begins?”

“Bless you, Mrs. Fontain.” Rook seized the opportunity to escape inside, Banner’s laughter following him. But he couldn’t quite squash his curiosity about this woman who had both Sabine and Lane so invested.

His tiger, oddly enough, seemed intensely interested in finding out more.

The mansion’s interior remained exactly as he remembered: polished hardwood floors, ancestral portraits with eyes that followed visitors, and the ever-present scent of jasmine and sage from his grandmother’s meditation room. New magical plants had been added to the decor, including a miniature willow tree that played soft music when someone walked beneath its branches.

His tiger relaxed slightly in the familiar environment, even as Rook’s human side remained on guard. He’d learned the hard way that in Mystic Hollow, comfort often preceded chaos.

They found Grandmother Ilaria in the solarium, engaged in what appeared to be a heated game of magical chess with his uncle Justus. Lane had sprawled in a nearby armchair, his dark-blonde hair perpetually tousled, offering unnecessarily colorful commentary on each move.

“Ooh, that bishop’s going to need therapy after that takedown,” Lane quipped as one of Justus’s pieces captured Ilaria’s bishop with particular enthusiasm. The captured piece indeed looked rather traumatized as it was escorted off the board.

“Some of us are trying to concentrate,” Justus growled, his displeasure rippling through the air with a hint of tiger energy.

“Some of us are trying to enjoy life,” Lane shot back with a grin. “Besides, Grandmother’s winning, anyway.”

“Only because she cheats,” the knight on Justus’s side grumbled.

“I prefer to call it creative strategy,” Ilaria replied serenely. She looked up at their entrance, her face lighting with genuine joy. Despite her illness, she maintained the regal bearing that had intimidated generations of shifters. Her snow-white hair was styled in an elegant bun, secured with ornate pins that Rook knew could double as weapons if needed.

“There’s my wandering cub!” She rose with fluid grace, opening her arms. “And Banner! Still keeping my grandson out of trouble?”

“Trying my best, Mrs. K.” Banner accepted her hug with obvious affection. “But you know how he is.”

“Indeed, I do.” Ilaria’s sharp eyes assessed Rook. “Though I hear Sabine might have found a solution to his workaholic tendencies.”

Rook’s tiger perked up again at the reference to their mystery woman, and he silently cursed his own curiosity. “Grandmother?—”

“I’m just saying,” Sabine cut in, having followed them into the solarium. “She’s brilliant with herbs and healing magic. Think of the collaboration potential with your spa project.”

Now that was a tactical approach Rook hadn’t expected. His tiger rumbled with approval at the idea of a genuine business partnership rather than another shallow social connection. “The spa plans are already finalized.”

“Plans can be improved,” Ilaria observed. “Especially when the right person brings a fresh perspective.”

“The right person being this paragon of virtue Sabine won’t shut up about?” Lane stretched lazily in his chair. “Because I still think?—”

“You still think nothing,” Sabine interrupted. “You’re just mad because she completely shut down your terrible pickup lines last week.”

“I was building to my good material!”

“Whoever she is,” Justus cut in, his voice sharp with disapproval, “I hope she understands proper pride protocol. We can’t have outsiders disrupting established hierarchies.”

Something in Rook’s chest tightened at the implied threat. His tiger rose closer to the surface, suddenly protective of a woman they hadn’t even met.

“Sometimes disruption is exactly what a pride needs,” Ilaria said mildly, but her eyes held steel as she regarded Justus. “Fresh perspectives keep us from stagnating.”

Before Justus could respond, Mrs. Fontain appeared with tea service and an array of small cakes. “Perhaps refreshments before the family dinner?” she suggested, her tone making it less a question than a diplomatic intervention.

“Excellent idea.” Ilaria settled back into her chair. “Rook, tell me about this spa project of yours. I hear you’ve acquired quite a bit of land near Crystal Creek.”

Grateful for the subject change, Rook outlined his plans while they enjoyed tea and cakes. The spa would combine traditional healing methods with modern luxury, taking advantage of the ley line convergence to enhance their therapeutic treatments. His tiger, however, kept circling back to thoughts of herb magic and green eyes.

“Ambitious,” Justus commented, his tone making it unclear whether he meant it as a compliment or criticism. “Though perhaps too modern for our traditional clientele.”

“The pride needs to evolve,” Hudson’s smooth voice came from the doorway as he joined them. “Though some of us have different visions of what that evolution should look like.”

The temperature in the solarium seemed to drop several degrees. Even the chess pieces stopped their bickering. Rook’s tiger recognized the subtle challenge in his other uncle’s words, even as his human side maintained a calm facade.

“Speaking of evolution,” Sabine said brightly, clearly trying to diffuse the tension, “did I mention my friend also makes these amazing enchanted candles? They’re absolutely revolutionary?—”

“Sabine.” Rook pinched the bridge of his nose, but his protest lacked real heat.

“What? I’m just saying, she’s got this incredible talent for blending traditional magic with innovation. Sound familiar?” She gave him a pointed look. “And she’s completely gorgeous, but that’s just a bonus.”

“When was your last real date, anyway?” Lane chimed in. “And that disaster with the swan shifter doesn’t count.”

“That wasn’t?—”

“Dude, she sneezed herself into bird form because of your cologne. Pretty sure that counts as a disaster.”

“Are you finished?”

“Not even close.” Lane grinned. “Did you tell them how she?—”

A clock chimed somewhere in the mansion, its deep tones reverberating through the solarium. Ilaria set her teacup aside with a decisive click.

“Speaking of dinner,” she said, her tone shifting to something more serious, “we have important matters to discuss tonight. The entire pride’s inner circle will be here.”

The atmosphere tensed again. Hudson’s smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he studied Rook. “Indeed. Some announcements are worth getting worked up over, wouldn’t you say, Mother?”

“All in good time.” Ilaria rose, effectively dismissing everyone. “For now, I suggest we all prepare for dinner. Rook, do try to look presentable. First impressions matter... especially these days.”

Something in her tone made both Rook and his tiger pay attention. There was more happening here than just family dinner and matchmaking attempts.

Banner clapped him on the shoulder as they headed upstairs. “Look on the bright side. Between your grandmother’s mysterious announcements, your uncles’ politics, and this mystery woman of Sabine’s, at least the evening won’t be boring.”

“When did my life become a cosmic joke?”

“Buddy,” Banner grinned, “it’s Mystic Hollow. Everything’s a cosmic joke here.”

Looking at his once-again pink-tinged car through the window—apparently the Mystic Moment’s effects hadn’t completely worn off—Rook couldn’t argue with that. He’d returned to launch a spa and check on his grandmother, not navigate pride politics and mysterious women.

His tiger, oddly enough, seemed perfectly fine with all of it. More than fine, actually. The beast prowled restlessly beneath his skin, eager for dinner in a way that had nothing to do with food.

Something was shifting in Mystic Hollow; Rook could feel it in the air.

But for the first time in years, both his human and tiger sides were equally curious to find out.

The family dining room buzzed with barely contained energy as members of the pride’s inner circle arrived. Crystal chandeliers floated near the ceiling, their light catching on the enchanted wallpaper where golden tigers prowled between silk flowers. The massive oak table—brought over from the old country generations ago—had been expanded to accommodate nearly thirty people.

Rook adjusted his tie, hyper-aware of the assessing looks from various pride members. His tiger bristled at their scrutiny, recognizing the weight of unspoken expectations. He’d spent years avoiding exactly this—the politics, the power plays, the responsibility of pride leadership that had consumed his father’s life.

“Stop fidgeting,” Banner muttered beside him. “You look like you’re waiting for execution instead of dinner.”

“Depends on what Grandmother has planned.”

“Why do you assume I have anything planned?” Ilaria appeared between them, making Banner jump. “Can’t a grandmother simply enjoy having her family together?”

“No,” Rook and Banner replied in unison.

Ilaria’s laugh drew attention from around the table. She looked every inch the family matriarch in her silk dress and elegant jewelry, but Rook caught the slight tremor in her hands as she took her seat at the head of the table. His tiger growled softly, concerned. Whatever was happening, it was taking a toll.

Sabine directed everyone to their seats with practiced ease, though Rook noticed she’d arranged things to keep Hudson and Justus at opposite ends. Smart girl. The two alphas had been circling each other like rivals since Justus’s return from his mysterious absence.

“Quite the turnout,” Hudson observed smoothly, swirling his wine. “One might think there was a special occasion.”

“Every family gathering is special,” Azella replied, but her smile held an edge. “Though some more than others.”

The first course arrived—a traditional pride dish of rare venison with herbs that enhanced shifter senses. Rook’s tiger perked up at the familiar flavors, remembering countless family dinners where his father had presided over similar gatherings. The empty chair at the foot of the table seemed to mock him with its implications.

Conversation flowed around business ventures and pride politics. Lane kept the mood light with his running commentary, though even his jokes couldn’t completely dispel the underlying tension. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something.

“The spa project sounds ambitious,” Xavier Kane, one of the pride’s elder businessmen, commented. “Following in your father’s footsteps, expanding into new territories.”

“The spa will benefit the entire community,” Rook replied. “Not just the pride.”

“Careful,” Justus’s voice carried from down the table. “Too much focus on outsiders can weaken pride bonds. Your father understood the importance of maintaining our traditions.”

“My father understood the importance of evolution,” Rook countered, surprised by the heat in his own voice. His tiger stalked closer to the surface, responding to the challenge in Justus’s tone.

“Did he?” Justus leaned forward. “Or did his modernization weaken us? Leave us vulnerable to?—”

The crystal in Ilaria’s hand chimed sharply, cutting through the rising tension. All eyes turned to her as she rose, her presence commanding instant attention.

“Family,” she began, her voice carrying to every corner of the room, “we gather tonight in a time of transition. As you know, the pride has been without formal leadership since my brother-in-law Wallace’s passing.”

The silence grew heavy. Rook’s tiger went absolutely still, recognizing the gravity of the moment.

“The Council of Elders has deliberated,” Ilaria continued. “We are unanimous in our decision.” Her eyes found Rook’s. “It’s time for you to take your place as alpha of the Western Mountain Pride.”

The words hit like a physical blow. Around the table, reactions ranged from quiet approval to poorly concealed outrage. His own heartbeat thundered in his ears as his tiger surged forward, responding to the power in Ilaria’s proclamation.

“Grandmother—” he started, but she held up a hand.

“You’ve run from this long enough,” she said, her voice gentler but no less firm. “The pride needs a leader who understands both tradition and progress. Someone who can bridge the old ways with the new.”

“There are others with more experience,” Rook argued, even as his tiger rebelled against his protests. “I’ve been focused on the corporation, not pride politics.”

“Politics can be learned,” Hudson cut in smoothly. “But true leadership... that’s in the blood. Isn’t that right, Uncle Justus?”

Something dangerous flashed in Justus’s eyes. “Blood isn’t everything. The pride needs someone committed to our ways, not a corporate prince playing at tradition.”

“Careful, Uncle.” Lane’s usual humor had vanished. “You’re talking to your alpha.”

“He’s not alpha yet.” Justus pushed back from the table. “The old laws allow for challenges. Unless our corporate prince is afraid to prove himself the traditional way.”

Rook’s tiger roared to life, every instinct screaming to answer the challenge. He felt his teeth sharpen, claws threatening to emerge. The beast had been waiting for this moment, he realized. Waiting to claim what they’d both known was rightfully theirs.

“That’s enough.” Ilaria’s voice cracked like a whip. “Challenge protocols can wait. Tonight, we acknowledge the truth we’ve all known since William’s passing.” Her eyes met Rook’s again. “You are your father’s son. The pride’s magic runs in your veins. It’s time to stop pretending otherwise.”

The magic she spoke of stirred inside him in response, ancient and powerful. Rook felt it resonating deep inside where human and tiger merged into one. All his careful plans, his corporate strategies, his attempts to escape his heritage... they felt hollow in the face of this primal truth.

He was alpha. Had been since his father died, though he’d refused to acknowledge it. The pride’s magic recognized him even if he’d spent years running from that recognition.

“Well?” Banner murmured beside him. “What’s it going to be?”

Rook looked around the table at his family—at the hope in his mother’s eyes, the pride in Ilaria’s smile, the calculating assessment from Hudson and Justus. His tiger pushed against his consciousness with images of territory, pack, and protection. The beast understood what his human side had denied for too long.

They needed this. The corporate world, for all its challenges, had never fully satisfied their deeper instincts. But it had taught them valuable lessons about leadership, strategy, and the importance of evolution.

Perhaps that had been the point all along.

“I accept,” he said finally, his voice carrying the weight of both man and beast. “But we do this my way. The pride needs to evolve, not just survive.”

“The words of a true alpha,” Ilaria murmured, satisfaction evident in her tone.

Justus stood abruptly. “This isn’t over.”

“No,” Rook agreed, meeting his uncle’s challenging stare. “It’s just beginning.”

His tiger rumbled in agreement. They had returned to Mystic Hollow planning to launch a spa and avoid pride politics. Instead, they’d accepted their birthright and challenged decades of tradition.

And somewhere in this magical town, according to his sister, there was a woman with green eyes and herb magic who might just understand both worlds as well as he did.