Page 56 of Alpha Charmed

Caius watches her go, his thumb tracing absent circles on my hip. “She’s definitely useful.”

“She’s furious.” I lean into his side, letting myself draw comfort from his solidity. “Vera and Mathilda were close. Finding out Cordelia murdered her isn’t going to inspire gentle feelings.”

“Good. We need angry allies right now.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “I have to meet the other alphas. War council.”

“Council?”

“Elio’s intelligence networks have been tracking Preserver movements. It’s time to share what we know.” His grip tightens briefly. “Will you be all right?”

“I’ve survived council meetings before.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

I turn in his arms, cupping his face between my palms. The compass pull of him steadies in my chest—a constant reminder that I’m not alone anymore, that whatever happens next, we face it as a matched pair.

“I’ll be fine. Go rally your wolves.” I kiss him softly. “And your bears and tigers and lions and panthers. The whole menagerie.”

He huffs a laugh against my lips. “The other alphas are going to be insufferable. Torin has been composing celebratory poetry.”

“I’ve heard. Sakura described it as ‘enthusiastically terrible.’”

“That’s generous.” One more kiss, longer this time, his hands tangling in my hair. “I’ll find you afterward. We have planning to do.”

“Planning.” I smile against his mouth.

“Among other things.”

He releases me with obvious reluctance, his fingers trailing down my arm before he turns toward Ironwood Row. I watch until he disappears into the evening mist, my magic humming with a contentment I’ve rarely felt.

The apothecary awaits. And there’s work to be done.

My shop has never looked more organized.

Every jar perfectly aligned. Every label facing forward. Every herb in its designated place with mathematical precision. The copper cauldrons gleam in the evening light, and the brewing potions bubble with calm, consistent rhythms.

My magic, grounded at last. Responding to intention rather than emotion.

I stand in the compounding room, cataloging ingredients and trying not to think about tomorrow, when the door chimes with its familiar brass ring.

“The look on Rhodes’s face when Elio presented the intelligence dossier.” Caius’s voice carries from the front of the shop, rich with amusement. “I thought he was going to spontaneously generate a new filing system from sheer anxiety.”

I emerge from the back room to find him leaning against my counter, looking entirely too comfortable in my space. He’s changed since the mountain—clean clothes, damp hair that suggests a quick shower at pack territory. Still infuriatingly handsome. Still mine.

That thought still surprises me. That he’s mine. That I’m allowed to want him.

“The war council went well, I take it?”

“Define well.” He pulls me into his arms the moment I’m close enough, pressing his face into my hair like he’s breathing me in. “Torin wanted to compose a formal declaration of intent. Aslan talked him down, but only barely. Rhodes started four new documentation protocols. Elio looked smug the entire time, which honestly, was the most alarming part.”

“Elio always looks smug.”

“True. But this was enhanced smugness.” Caius pulls back to meet my eyes. “The agents from the mountain—two of them trained in the same Preserver cell as Cordelia’s earliest known contacts. That’s the thread we’ve been waiting for. A direct line from the attack on us back to her.”

“That’s more than we had.”

“It’s not enough for a formal accusation. Not yet.” His expression sharpens with tactical focus. “But it’s leverage. She doesn’t know how much we know. We can use that.”

“What about the agents from before? Iskra and Valesh—the ones who mentioned the Severing.”