Cora’s fingers tangled in his hair, and she tilted her head, granting his tongue access. The world outside faded into irrelevance, leaving only the heat of his touch and the steady thrum of her heartbeat echoing in her ears.
Grayson inched close before guiding her onto his lap as his lips trailed down her jawline to her neck. Her breath hitched, and she clutched his shoulders as he nipped at the sensitive skin just below her ear.
The sound of someone clearing their throat shattered the moment, and Cora jerked back, her face flaming as she turned toward the doorway. Zane stood there, leaning against the frame, with a smirk that made her want to sink into the floor.
“Am I interrupting something?” he asked, though the amusement in his tone suggested he already knew the answer.
Grayson let out a low growl with his hands still resting on Cora’s waist. “What do you want, Zane?”
Zane’s smirk faded, replaced by a seriousness that set Cora’s nerves on edge. “I have news. You’re going to want to hear this.”
Cora slid back onto the cushion as Grayson rose from the couch. “What kind of news?”
“From Ryder. He’s been tracking Theodore’s movements, and things just got a whole lot worse. Theodore and his men are closing in on Bellefleur.”
The words hit like a hammer, and Grayson’s body immediately went rigid. “How close?”
Zane stepped further into the room, and his eyes moved between the two of them. “Close enough. We’ve seen scouts in the area, and Ryder’s intel says Theodore’s preparing for a full-scale assault. He wants Bellefleur, and he’s not coming quietly.”
Cora had to grip the arm of the couch to keep upright as the room spun around her. Bellefleur wasn’t just a target—it was her home, their home. The idea of Theodore tearing it apart, of more innocent lives being lost, made her blood run cold. She glanced at Grayson, and something inside her snapped into focus.
“We can’t let that happen.”
“No one’s letting it happen, Cora,” Grayson assured her. “We’ll handle it.”
“How?” she challenged. “You just said it yourself—he’s coming with everything he’s got. If we wait for him to make the first move, we’re giving him the upper hand.”
Zane raised a hand. “She’s got a point. We’ve seen what Theodore can do when he’s prepared. He doesn’t just strike—he destroys.”
Grayson shot him a glare but didn’t argue. Instead, he turned back to Cora. “What are you suggesting?”
Cora took a breath, steadying herself. “My magic. I can create wards around the town, strong ones. It won’t stop him completely, but it’ll slow him down, maybe even force him to rethink his strategy. At the very least, it’ll give us time to prepare.”
Grayson’s expression darkened further. “No.”
The single word hung in the air like a lead weight, and the room felt smaller for a moment. Cora crossed her arms, meeting his gaze with a determination she hadn’t realized she possessed. “You don’t get to make that decision for me.”
“I’m not letting you put yourself in danger like that,” Grayson argued. “You know what using that much magic could do to you. You’re still healing.”
“I know exactly what it could do to me,” she shot back. “But I also know what will happen if we don’t do something. This isn’t just about us, Grayson. It’s about everyone in Bellefleur. If there’s a chance I can protect them, I have to try.”
“She’s right,” Zane interjected, though his tone was careful. “Wards could make a big difference. Especially if we’re dealing with an attack on this scale.”
Grayson’s frustration was palpable as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re not the one who has to watch her struggle with this,” he snapped at Zane before turning back to Cora. “You don’t know what you’re asking me to agree to.”
“I do. And I’m asking anyway. Because I can’t sit here and do nothing while people I care about are in danger. You, of all people, should understand that.”
The words struck a nerve, and Grayson flinched almost imperceptibly. His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he looked torn between his instinct to protect her and the reality of what they were facing.
“Grayson,” Cora said, standing and stepping closer. Her voice softened, though the resolve in it remained. “I’m not doing this to prove anything or to be reckless. I’m doing it because it’s the right thing to do. And because I know you’ll be there to pull me back if I go too far and lose control the way I did when I almost hurt you.”
He looked up at her, and his eyes searched hers for something—reassurance, maybe, or conviction. Whatever he saw seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders, if only slightly. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes. I can do this.”
Grayson exhaled slowly. “All right. But we’re doing this together. If I see anything—anything—that makes me think you’re pushing yourself too hard, we stop. No arguments.”
“No arguments,” she agreed.
