My eyebrows went high. “Ahealer? Surely not. That's not how the magic works.” Magic carriers, those humans whose families had been gifted magic by the Elves back in the 1940s, either had passive types of magic, like Seers who had psychic visions, or they had superior versions of human abilities, like Hunters who had enhanced strength and speed. The Elves had deliberately not given the humans any abilities that would allow them to physically impact or affect other people. A smart decision; humans would weaponize anything if given the chance.
Nancy spread out her hands. “I don't know. I'm not a hundred percent sure it's real, but this is the address that's being handed around. You're supposed to tell him you're there to see Mary Poppins.” She shrugged. “Supposedly he cured a kid of leukemia. He only works on Wonders or magic carriers. I thought you might want to take the alphamate to see him.”
I looked down at the address. My wolf was pacing, anxious for us to go get Elton right that second and take him to this supposed healer. It couldn’t hurt to go by and talk to the guy. If this was alla load of bull, then Nancy would be able to tell everyone at work there was no truth to the rumor.
“Thank you, Nancy.” I held up the sticky note. “I'll take Elton to check this out, and I'll let you know if it's real or not.”
I texted Elton to ask him what time he’d be done at the bookstore this afternoon, but he didn’t reply. He was probably working, I told myself, though doubts crept in. What if last night had made him worry that we wouldn’t be good together as mates? What if the pack had been overwhelming for him? Why hadn't I waited for another few weeks before introducing him to them?
I was ready to tear my hair out by midmorning. To distract myself, I texted Gordon, and he brought Parker to my office. The boy’s face was pale, and distress was coming off him in waves. I didn't need the pack connection to know. I could smell it.
“Relax, Parker. You're not in trouble, and there won't be any sort of retaliation or fallout from this, no matter what ends up happening.” I gestured for him and Gordon to sit on the couch that took up one side of my office. I sat in the armchair across from them. Now was not the time to have a desk between us. “Okay, so last night it felt like something was bothering you about football.”
“It's fine.” Parker shot a sideways glance at his father. At least Gordon was keeping his mouth shut. He'd been one of my father's betas, and his parenting methods were pretty old-school from what I could tell. Lots of tough love and very little in the way of hugs and emotions.
I tried for a calm, friendly tone. “Parker, do I need to remind you that your father and I can tell if you're not being entirely truthful?”
For the first time, Gordon seemed slightly concerned. He cleared his throat. “Son, if something's happening with the team or whatever, you can tell me. Nobody's bullying you, are they?” I could tell he wanted to add some sort of macho crap about how if Parker was being bullied, he shouldn't hold back in response. But thankfully he didn't.
“No, no. There's nothing like that, Dad. I promise.”
Okay, Gordon wasn't getting anywhere. My turn. “Do you stilllikeplaying football?” Gordon opened his mouth, but I held up a hand to stop him. “I want Parker to answer the question.”
Parker shifted in his seat, and his eyes went everywhere except toward me and his father. Finally he sighed. “It's not that I don't enjoy the game. I do like playing.”
“Well, that's good. What's making you uncomfortable about it?”
He ran his hand through his already tousled hair. Then he turned to Gordon. “Dad, don't get mad. Just let me say this.” Gordon’s expression made me think he’d just realized how his reactions were impacting his son. He kept his mouth shut and nodded. Parker turned to me. “I don't like being the strongest player. I don't like having this unfair advantage over the other team. Hell, it's an advantage over my own teammates. Every time I get the ball, I try to hold back, but my wolf wants to run and show off. It's getting harder and harder to pretend to be human, and I feel like I'm taking a spot away from someone who has more of a right to be on the field than I do.”
Shit. I gave Parker an encouraging smile. “Thank you for telling us how you feel. Does this mean you don’t want to play next year?”
He shook his head. “I really don’t.” He looked hesitantly at Gordon. “I’m sorry, Dad. I know you like me playing.”
Gordon stared at his son. Guilt came through the pack bond. “I'm sorry I pushed you so much, Parker, that you didn't feel you could open up to me. I'll try to do better.”
Parker threw his arms around his father. “Thanks, Dad. I'll try to do better at talking about what's bothering me too.”
They hugged, and my wolf huffed proudly that we’d solved a pack problem Elton had brought to our attention.
I cleared my throat. “If y’all have any trouble communicating in the future, Elton’s about to become a licensed therapist. He’d be happy to help you.”
As I walked Gordon and Parker to the door of my office, one thing was still bothering me. How had Elton sensed that Parker was unhappy?
INSTAGRAM REEL FROM EJVIBES – SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 12
The video opens on a closeup of his face. He’s whispering. “Spontaneous decisions can have the best outcomes. Or the worst. I wonder which this will be.”
CHAPTER 7
ELTON
I was late finishingmy supervised clinic hours, and I didn’t see Rafferty’s text until I was getting out of my car at the bookstore. Daphne had already left, which meant Taylor was handling the Saturday rush on their own, and I didn’t have time to respond. The line to check out was five deep when I slid behind the counter. “Sorry, everyone! Give me sixty seconds to open this register, then we’ll get y’all out of here and on your way.”
When the line was down to one person, I told Taylor to go on break. I alternated checking people out and adding the new stock we’d received to the inventory in the system. When Taylor came back, we traded off putting the new books out on the floor and running the registers. I usually enjoyed busy days at the bookstore, but I’d been frazzled when I’d arrived, and there hadn’t been a chance to catch my breath. Or to respond to Rafferty.
Everything in my gut—not to mention my dick—wanted to agree to be Rafferty’s mate. He was gorgeous, sexy, and smart, and as much as I’d been overwhelmed by the pack last night, I’d appreciated the opportunity to see how Rafferty acted aroundhis people. But my logical side was screaming that this was all happening too fast, that I should focus on my health. Mating a pack alpha would change my entire life—where I lived, who I interacted with—and it came with responsibilities Rafferty needed to explain to me.
And outside of everything else, I’d only have my one remaining ball for less than forty-eight more hours. I really wanted to have sex again before I lost it, and Rafferty was the only person I wanted to do it with. The thought of running my hands over his muscled chest, rubbing my dick against his, washnngh. But if just touching him would make our mating connection permanent, what would having sex with him do?
