Chapter 18
ALDRIC
“Waverly!” I touched her shoulders—she was rigid, her eyes fixed on the case. “What is it?”
She slowly lifted one hand and pressed her fingertips to the glass in front of the tarnished silver talisman. “Touch me,” she said in a lifeless voice.
“What is going on here?” Beatrice snapped from behind me.
“Nothing—Waverly’s just showing me that talisman.”
“That’s not on the tour. Now, we’re heading to the next room.”
“Touch me.” Waverly pressed her fingers harder against the glass.
“Absolutely not!” Beatrice barked. “You read the rules.”
“She’s—” I tried to tell Beatrice that Waverly was simply acting out a character from her upcoming book, but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth.
“Touch me,” Waverly said again.
I took her arm and turned her toward me, but she simply swiveled her head, keeping her eyes locked on the talisman.
“What’s wrong with her?” Beatrice said.
“Nothing,” I said quietly. “Could you excuse us, Beatrice?”
“No. I’m sorry, Mr. Wrest, but no. I will not risk damage to a historical object because a visitor wants to touch it.”
Just then, an enormous metallic crash rang out from somewhere in the front of the museum, followed immediately by a woman screaming.
“HELP! CAT!” the woman yelled.
Beatrice spun. “What was that? Dorothy?” She rushed from the room. “What is going on?”
I waited, watching—and then a familiar black blur shot past the far doorway.
I blinked.
“Mr. McFluffinstuff?”
Another loud crash. The cat streaked past again, this time doubling back, and ran straight for me.
“It is you. What the hell did you do?”
Mr. McFluffinstuff ran directly to Waverly, where he stopped and rose up on his hind legs against her leg.
“Meow.”
“Touch me,” Waverly spoke, paying no attention to the cat whatsoever.
Mr. McFluffinstuff dropped back down, went to the glass case, and began rapidly pawing at it.
“I get it,” I told him.
Running my hand along the top of the case, I found the emergency button—the one for when you don’t have the key. I pressed it and heard a click as the lock released.
“Where is it?” Beatrice shrieked from the front room. “WHERE IS IT?”
I locked eyes with Mr. McFluffinstuff. “Go. I’ve got this. Don’t get caught.”
“Meow.” He bolted from the room.
I turned back to Waverly and slid the glass open. The moment I reached for the talisman, she automatically lifted her arm, pointer finger extended.
“Touch me.”
She stretched forward and pressed her whole hand flat against the metal.
The instant she made contact, her eyes flew wide open.
Waverly’s entire body shook as though she were being electrocuted.
I contemplated pulling her away—but before I could, she collapsed and slid down against me.
I caught her just as her head was about to meet the floor.
“Waverly.” I cupped her face in my hand. “Waverly!”
I gathered her up easily. Using my closest hand, I eased the glass case shut, then maneuvered Waverly against my chest and got my hand free to click the lock back into place. I put my arm around her.
And that’s when two things crashed into me like blows from a prize fighter.
The first was magic. Not a flash or a whisper—this was rolling off her in waves. Ancient and familiar, as if it had always been there. As if it had always been a part of her.
Then a second force slammed into me so hard, my knees nearly buckled. My pulse thundered. The bond wrapped around me with the force of a tidal wave.
Mate.
Waverly Anderson was my mate.
I lowered my head close to her mouth and felt the faint warmth of her breath.
“Stay with me, Waverly. Please.” My voice dropped to something I barely recognized. “Please, my mate—stay with me.”
I scooped her up and rushed out of the museum through the employees-only side door and ran the short distance to my office. I needed to contact Elara. She was the only one who would know what to do.