Panthering After You (Shifter Mates of Hollow Oak #2)
Chapter 1 Ivy
IVY
The fog parted like curtains drawn by invisible hands, welcoming Ivy into a world that shouldn't exist.
She stood at the edge of what the road signs had called Hollow Oak, her scuffed guitar case heavy in her aching grip. The mist swirled around her ankles, warm despite the October chill, and her fae instincts recognized the magic before her mind caught up.
The Veil. She'd heard whispers of such places in the hidden corners of the supernatural world, sanctuaries where those like her could exist without pretense.
"Well," she whispered, shifting the guitar case to her other hand. "Sebastian always said I'd end up somewhere impossible."
Music drifted through the mist ahead, fiddle and laughter and voices that carried undertones no human ear would catch. Ivy followed the sound down a winding path toward a small town square lit by strings of lanterns that bobbed in the evening breeze.
The square bustled with festival preparations. A woman with flour-dusted hands hung a banner reading "Lanternfall Festival" while children darted between adults, their laughter bright as wind chimes. And everywhere was the feeling of otherness she'd spent years learning to hide.
"You look like you've been walking for days, honey."
Ivy turned to find a woman approaching with a steaming mug. Wheat-colored hair, soft brown eyes with flecks of brightness, and the unmistakable shimmer of fae magic beneath her skin. Late twenties in appearance, but Ivy could sense the age beneath.
"I have been," Ivy admitted, accepting the mug. Apple cider with spices that warmed her from the inside out. "Thank you."
"I'm Twyla. I run the café here." The woman's smile held knowing depths. "And you are exactly where you need to be."
"I'm sorry?"
"Hollow Oak has a way of letting in those who need it most. The Veil doesn't part for just anyone." Twyla's eyes sparkled with ancient mischief. "Fellow traveler, I'd guess."
The recognition hung between them, unspoken but understood. Fae to fae, without the need for human pretenses.
"Something like that," Ivy said carefully.
Twyla pointed toward a bulletin board. "Festival starts tomorrow, runs through the weekend. Open mic sign-up right there. No names required, just show up and sing."
Ivy's heart stuttered. Anonymous stage time. When was the last time she'd performed without Sebastian watching, without contracts binding her voice to his will?
"I don't know."
"Think about it, dear. The stage could use some fresh magic." Twyla was already walking away, but she called over her shoulder, "Real magic, not the manufactured kind."
Ivy sipped her cider and studied the preparations. A man tuned a fiddle near a makeshift stage. Two women argued over hay bale placement. Teenagers strung lights between trees, their voices carrying supernatural undertones that would be lost on human ears.
"First time in Hollow Oak?"
A young woman approached, honey-blonde curls framing a kind face dotted with freckles. Her amber eyes held warmth and something deeper, an empathic awareness that made Ivy's defenses prickle. She wore a cozy cream sweater and a vintage skirt that gave her an old-fashioned charm.
"Yes, ma'am. Just passing through."
"Musicians don't usually just pass through here. They tend to stick around once they realize what this place offers." The woman's gaze lingered on Ivy's guitar case. "I'm Diana. I run the inn."
"What does this place offer?"
"Freedom. Safety. A chance to be exactly who you are." Diana's voice was matter-of-fact. "We have a special rate for festival performers. Room and board in exchange for two sets during the weekend."
Two sets of her choosing. Her songs, her voice, her magic unleashed the way she wanted.
"I haven't decided yet."
"Of course not. You just got here." Diana's smile was warm but calculating. "But if you do decide to stay, you should know that Hollow Oak protects its own. Whatever brought you here, it can't follow you behind the Veil."
The words hit home. "I'm not running from anything."
"Of course not, dear. Why don't you walk around, get a feel for the place?"
As if summoned, the fiddle player struck up a reel that had half the square clapping along. Someone produced a guitar, another a small drum, and suddenly the evening filled with music that called to Ivy's fae nature.
Her fingers itched for her own guitar, but she'd learned to be careful. Sebastian had taught her that control was everything, that her magic was too dangerous to let loose.
"Go on," Diana said gently. "Music is meant to be shared."
But Ivy stepped back into the shadows at the square's edge. She found a bench beneath an old oak tree where she could watch without participating.
The musicians played until full dark, their music weaving through the lantern light like something alive. Ivy hummed along, her voice barely a whisper, adding harmonies no one could hear.
The innkeeper appeared beside the tree as the music wound down.
"Ready for that room?" Diana asked, as if she'd been waiting.
"The festival rate?"
"Yup. No contracts, no obligations beyond what you agree to."
No contracts. The words were like a benediction.
"And if I decide to leave before the weekend ends?"
"Then you leave. No one will stop you." Diana's expression was gentle but firm. "That's what sanctuary means."
Ivy looked back at the square where lanterns still bobbed in the evening breeze, where the lingering magic in the air felt like home in a way Sebastian's world never had.
"Yes," she said, surprised by the steadiness in her own voice. "I think I'd like that room."
"Excellent. The inn's just up the hill. I'll show you the way."
As they walked through the settling dusk, Diana asked, "What should I call you?"
"Ivy. Ivy Lane."
"Well, Ivy Lane, welcome to Hollow Oak. I have a feeling you're going to like it here."