Page 46 of Alpha Charmed

“I’m done being sure about everything.” I trace the line of his jaw with trembling fingers. “I want to make a decision with my heart instead of my head.”

“Anouk.” He cups my face in his hands. “I’ve wanted this. If we do this⁠—”

“If we do this, everything changes.” I finish the thought for him. “I know. I want it to change.”

His smile is slow, transforming his serious features. “Then I’m staying.”

We don’t make it to the bedroom that night. The shop is closed, the wards are up, and the world outside can wait until morning. We stay on that small sofa, wrapped around each other, talking and kissing and learning all the things we’ve denied ourselves for too long.

He tells me about his grandmother’s reaction when he returned to pack territory last night—how Sylvana simply looked at the claiming mark and said, “About time. I was beginning to think I’d have to orchestrate an intervention myself.” I tell him about the council meeting, about Cordelia’s barely contained fury, about the vote that almost ended my tenure as coven leader.

“She’ll try again.” His voice is quiet, his hand tracing patterns on my back.

“She will. But not tonight.” I press closer, savoring the feel of him. “Tonight, she doesn’t matter. None of them do.”

His hands never stop moving—tracing my face, smoothing my hair, mapping the claiming mark on my shoulder with reverent attention. I learn the texture of his skin, the sound of his laugh, the way his whole body relaxes when I touch him.

The herbs arrange themselves into increasingly elaborate displays. The potions brew themselves to perfection. My magic hums with stability and contentment and the fierce satisfaction of finally, finally having what I want.

TWELVE

CAIUS

Bram has the good sense not to comment on my mood this morning, though the look he gives me over the patrol schedule suggests it takes real effort.

I don’t care. Let him look.

Anouk is still asleep when I finally force myself out of her bed—apothecary needs opening, pack needs a alpha who occasionally does alpha things—and I stand in her doorway longer than strictly necessary just watching her breathe. Steady. Unguarded. The claiming mark on her shoulder catching the early light.

Mine. In every sense that matters, now.

The council will know by noon. Cordelia will know before that—she has ears everywhere, always has—and I spend the walk to Stoneheart running through every version of the conversation I’m about to have with the other alphas, all of whom will have opinions about a wolf claiming a coven leader in the middle of an active conspiracy investigation.

Let them have opinions.

Elio catches me before I reach my office, already reading my expression with the particular accuracy that makes him useful and occasionally insufferable in equal measure.

“Well,” he says. “That explains the smell.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Sure you don’t.” He falls into step beside me, entirely unbothered by my glare. “For the record—good. It’s good. She’s good for you. You’ve been unbearable for years.”

“I’ve been patient.”

“You’ve been unbearable about being patient. There’s a difference, and everyone but you could see it.”

I don’t argue, because he isn’t wrong, and because I have better things to spend my morning defending than a decade of restraint that finally, finally paid off.

Cordelia will make her move soon. I can feel it coming the way I feel weather changing—pressure building, waiting for the crack.

Let her come. She’ll find a coven leader steadier than she’s ever been, and a wolf who has absolutely nothing left to lose by protecting her openly.

I go to work. I keep my patrol route past the apothecary twice, same as always.

Some habits aren’t worth breaking.

THIRTEEN