Chapter 7 - Sera
Inside the cabin, the air feels too thick with him and his scent, and the invisible thread that now exists between us.
The only place I can somewhat manage to breathe is outside, so that’s where I spend most of my time.
When I slip through the patio doors just after sunrise, I feel the quiet but present pulse of the bond, letting me know he’s awake somewhere nearby, too. I don’t need to see him to know he’s already watching.
Ignoring the irritating feeling, I move across the deck, navigating the tiered levels before reaching the end of the dock. I sit in one of the chairs, placing the leather-bound book in my lap, and I watch as the waves move at a more languid pace, rather than the angry crashing from yesterday.
The low breeze is cool, but as the sun slowly moves higher, it helps warm my skin beneath the sweater Luke apparently had brought for me, along with several other articles. I can only assume someone from the pack had been here before us to set everything up.
As a few gulls fly overhead with their usual cries, I sit in the quiet and focus on how muted the bond feels from a distance. It’s not gone, of course, but it’s enough to seem like a semblance of a break.
Over the years, it never really bothered me having another sensation in my chest, like a living, breathing thing next to my heart. My magic always lived there, offering me a sense of companionship in a way.
But this is different. Luke’s heartbeat is tangled up with mine, and it feels more like an invasion than anything else.
I could see how something like this might be a beautiful, sacred thing, but I don’t want it. I never asked for it, and that’s what makes me furious.
I’m not only angry at Luke, but at my own body for even accepting this. No matter how much I rage or how badly I want to escape him, the bond responds to him anyway. It warms when he’s near, like a traitor, as if it belongs to him, just as it expects me to.
For a long while, I just sit and watch the open landscape ahead of me, wishing I could somehow break away from all of this without causing more problems for myself, but now that I’m mated to Luke, I don’t think I’ll ever get to truly escape him.
Some time goes by without me realizing it, lost in my thoughts and reading from the old book. It’s nice for a while, getting to pretend even for a moment that none of this is happening to me.
I found the book a month or two ago in Wraith Peak. It was tucked away in a run-down library, clearly meant to be kept out of plain sight, but not to such a severe degree like what might happen in other pack territories.
Magic is banned everywhere else, but in Wraith Peak, the lenience there allowed me to keep it on me without repercussion.
Of course, I kept it hidden away regardless, should anyone sniff it out.
Fortunately, the cover is worn and doesn’t have a title embossed on the front.
It’s intentionally plain and innocent, so I’ve managed to keep it in my possession for this long.
Really, it feels like the one thing that’s mine, and the only connection I have to magic outside of what exists in me.
From what I can tell, the writing belonged to a witch from some time ago, making it feel more personal and honest than anything that could be published on a bigger scale. That’s how I know it’s genuine.
I read through a section detailing containment spells, featuring a few diagrams and explanations about intention and balance.
It isn’t offensive or destructive; instead, it’s meant to be protective.
Though if anyone else were to read it, they’d likely see something they don’t understand.
Worse, they might dismiss it as something unnatural and demonic.
If only they knew it was so much deeper than that.
So absorbed in the words, I don’t sense Luke immediately this time. The bond registers him first, flaring as if in warning.
He’s already behind me when I find him standing there, stopping in place. His eyes drift down to the book, and his expression shifts instantly as his brows furrow. One look at the diagrams and his face hardens fractionally.
“What are you reading?”
The edge to his words is something new, almost like he’s catching me in the act.
I consider lying, but I already know there’s no point.
“A book on magic.”
His jaw clenches, allowing the words to sink in before he murmurs, “Where did you get that?”
“Wraith Peak.”
“And you brought it here?” he asks, voice tightening with more tension now.
“I did.”
Several thoughts pass through his eyes at once, as if he can’t settle on which one to address first. He runs a hand through his hair, clearly caught by this. “That’s dangerous.”
My eyes narrow slightly in return. “Dangerous for who?”
“For you, and anyone else who might see it.”
“I’ve managed so far,” I tell him flatly, unwilling to dim myself and my abilities to keep him comfortable.
Luke looks at me, then the book, then back to me again, like it’s something venomous just waiting to attack. “Magic is banned for a reason.”
And there it is…the usual statement. The shield that’s supposed to block anyone from asking questions or thinking twice.
Closing the book in my lap, I turn to face him a bit more. “And what reason is that?”
“It destabilizes packs and gives too much power to individuals who can’t be controlled,” he says without hesitation, sounding more like a script than a true, personal belief. “It’s unpredictable.”
“You’re unpredictable,” I counter. “So is every Alpha who thinks he knows what’s best for everyone else.”
He blinks back at me, not expecting it, as more tension pulls in him. “You’re being reckless.”
“And you’re being hypocritical.”
That gets his attention, making Luke stop. So, I take advantage of it.
“You want your people to accept magic, apparently. I heard your dad arguing with you over it,” I tell him, not wanting to pull my punches now. “If you expect your pack to unlearn decades of fear, then you should probably start by doing the same.”
His entire body goes still, and in his silence, I watch the internal battle playing out across his face.
Luke was raised on the same cautionary tales most shifters around here were, and that’s not hard to believe.
They’ve all heard about magic corrupting, seducing, and destroying, but they never hear about how it heals and protects, how it can be the one thing that turns the tides, if they ever allow it to.
Finally, he sighs and scrubs a hand down his face. Both of us know he’s caught now.
“You’re not wrong,” he admits, voice lowering. With another breath, he drops into the chair next to mine. “Those messages were drilled into my head growing up…and I used to believe it all. We were told magic was a kind of sickness, and anyone who touched it couldn’t be trusted.”
While it isn’t at all surprising to hear, the willingness to concede is.
“And now?”
Luke stares out at the ocean for a long beat, quietly contemplating. “And now I know I have more work to do myself. Seeing magic work with my own eyes wasn’t enough, it seems.”
I watch him in return for a moment, more curious than I intend to be. Even if I don’t want to lend him too much grace right now, I can tell he really has caught himself in this.
“Why do you care about your pack accepting magic use anyway?”
His fingers tap almost restlessly against the arm of his chair. “Because I saw something that didn’t fit the narrative I was used to hearing.”
Even if I should, I don’t drop it. “What did you see?”
Luke lets another bout of silence stretch between us before he begins.
“My friend and comrade, Caleb, bonded with a witch. Everyone was against it until she used her abilities to protect him and their little girl. I didn’t want to believe anyone could use it for good either, until I couldn’t ignore what was right in front of me. ”
The quiet reverence in his tone says it all, and I take in every word despite myself. I didn’t expect someone like him to be so moved by it, especially after how rigid with duty he had been during the ceremony.
“So now you want to change things.”
He nods. “I want to be the start of that change, even if it takes time.”
I catch myself loosening my grip on my resistance just enough to listen, and as I take him in, catching the sincerity in those blue eyes, my pulse flutters a little faster.
Looking away, I force my eyes back on the water, urging that annoying feeling to leave.
As easy as it might be to misconstrue his intentions, I know it has nothing to do with me. Those thoughts were put into motion before me, and if anything, he’s doing it for the pack, and maybe even to appease whatever guilt he might harbor.
“That doesn’t mean I trust you. And I’m not going to stop reading my book.”
Luke exhales, and the tension eases a bit. “I know. I don’t expect you to.”
I don’t want it to, but something softens in me enough to be aggravating.
When I study him again, I catch how tired he looks. Not in a lack of sleep sense, but worn in a way that suggests he’s carrying something heavy, and it has been that way for some time now.
A quiet urge in me wants to feel empathetic, and to maybe even form a bridge of some kind between us, like a truce. But the ceremony still burns in the back of my mind, along with the way my choice was erased by tradition.
For a moment, only the ocean moves around us, stretching toward the horizon while the bond hums quietly. Without being demanding or urgent, it’s just present.
I don’t want it, but I also know it isn’t just something I can shove aside.
Whether I trust him or not, and if I can even bring myself to forgive him, nothing about this arrangement is simple.
But either way, I’m not giving up who I am, and who I always have been.