Page 88 of Impawssible Magic

Zeph snorts. Sakura hides a smile behind her hand. Even Anouk smiles.

Rhodes blinks at me, slow and disbelieving, like the universe just rearranged itself in front of him. “Did you just... make a joke?”

“Occasionally.”

“In public?”

“The claiming changed him,” Leire offers, threading her fingers through mine. “He’s practically soft now. Told me he loved me three times this morning.”

“Twice.” I can feel heat climbing my neck. “Two times.”

“Three. One of them was very quiet, but I have excellent hearing.”

“She doesn’t have excellent hearing.”

“I have tiger-mate hearing now. It’s a thing.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure I read about it somewhere.”

The look Rhodes gives me is part horror, part fascination. “I need to leave. I need to file a report. Several reports. This entire situation is⁠—”

“Unprecedented?” Anouk suggests.

“Irregular.” He seizes on the word. “This entire situation is highly irregular, and the Protection Network needs to establish protocols⁠—”

“Later.” Caius appears in the doorway, steel-gray eyes assessing the room with his usual efficiency. The alpha wolf carries authority like a second skin. “Right now, we acknowledge what’s happened. A witch-shifter claiming—successful, stable, unprecedented. Whether we like it or not, Mistvale just changed.”

Silence.

Caius looks at me. At Leire.

“Congratulations. To both of you.”

“Thank you.” Leire squeezes my hand. “Does this mean you’re not going to try to separate us?”

“We couldn’t if we tried. The claiming is permanent.” He pauses. “Also, Aslan would kill anyone who attempted it, and frankly, he’s terrifying.”

“I prefer ‘effective.’”

“The Warding Line.” I remember Caius’s opening report from what feels like a different lifetime. “The thin spots—the eastern perimeter—are they⁠—”

“Stable.” Something shifts in his expression. Almost surprised. “The patrol reported this morning. The three thin spots that have been degrading for months have all sealed overnight. Whatever the Preservers were doing near the Line to maintain the Severing, they’re no longer doing it.” He looks from me to Leire and back. “It seems the claiming had effects beyond the two of you.”

“On a related note—Iskra is talking.” Caius’s voice is careful. Measured. “She’s named the infiltrators placed in the Thornwick Coven—three of them, including two elders who sat on the tribunal that exiled you. That information is already with the regional council.” Caius’s jaw tightens. “She’s also confirmed this cell answered to a larger network. Elio’s cross-referencing her testimony with the full Preserver documents now—the originals your Grandmother Peach was kind enough to return.” His expression is perfectly flat. “Eventually.”

“Your exile, for what it’s worth, is being formally challenged as of this morning.” He says it the way he says everything—flatly, like it’s routine. It isn’t. “Shadow’s confirmed coercion, combined with Iskra’s testimony, should be sufficient to overturn the tribunal’s record. You’ll want to engage the regional council directly once this has settled.” A pause that might, on anyone else, be called gentle. “You shouldn’t have carried that for two years.”

“Good.” Right now isn’t the time.

Torin is grinning, that broad warm smile that transforms his massive frame from intimidating to approachable. “This is good. This is really, really good.” He claps me on the shoulder hard enough to stagger a normal man. “I’m happy for you, brother.”

“Are you going to cry?”

“Maybe. Shut up. Let me have my feelings.”

“His feelings are very abundant,” Sakura observes. “It’s endearing.”