Page 23 of His Lucky Charm

“You think I look sexy in everything.”

“True.” His hands settled on my hips, drawing me closer. “And nothing at all.”

I rolled my eyes, even as I leaned into his touch. “We don’t have time. The ceremony starts in two hours, and I still need to review the ritual responses.”

“We could make time,” he suggested, voice dropping to that register that never failed to send heat pooling in my stomach. “I’m very efficient when motivated.”

“So I’ve noticed.” I pressed a brief kiss to his lips, then stepped back before temptation could win out. “Later. After the ceremony.”

His exaggerated sigh was undermined by the anticipation in his eyes. “You’re cruel, Professor.”

“Patient,” I corrected. “And thorough. As you’ll recall from last full moon.”

The memory of exactly how thorough I could be flashed across his face, his eyes momentarily flaring gold. “Fine. Later it is.”

We prepared for the ceremony with the comfortable efficiency of established partners. Rafferty donned his ceremonial garb—simpler than mine as he would be transforming during the ritual—while I struggled with the complicated fastenings of the green velvet robe that marked me as his human mate.

“Here, let me,” he offered, stepping behind me to secure the silver-embroidered belt. The precious metal didn’t bother Guardians in small amounts or when mixed with other materials—a practical adaptation that allowed them to blend into human society.

As his fingers worked the ceremonial knots, I felt the familiar blend of academic fascination and personal contentment that had become my new normal. Six months ago, I’d arrived in Cloverton determined to disprove its legends. Now I was preparing to participate in an ancient ritual celebrating those very entities.

Life, as it turned out, had a peculiar sense of irony.

“There.” Rafferty smoothed the robe over my shoulders, then turned me to face him. “Perfect.”

I adjusted my glasses, which I’d learned added a certain distinguished flair to the ceremonial attire. “How do I look? Sufficiently academic-turned-werewolf-consort?”

His smile was soft, his eyes crinkling at the corners in the way I’d first noticed that fateful day in The Lucky Hound. “You look like you belong. With me. With us.”

The simple statement touched something deep inside me. “I do, don’t I? Belong.”

“Never doubt it.” He leaned forward to press his forehead against mine, a gesture of connection that transcended words. “Ready?”

I nodded, gathering my resolve along with the small ceremonial pouch I would present during the ritual. “Ready.”

Chapter 12

The festival was already in full swing when we arrived in town, the streets filled with tourists enjoying the spectacle without understanding its true significance. Green streamers hung from every lamppost, wolf-themed decorations adorned shop windows, and vendors sold everything from “Guardian Green Ale” to plush wolf toys.

We wove through the crowds, nodding to pack members who would join us later for the true ceremony in the hills. At The Lucky Hound, now managed primarily by Siobhan to accommodate Rafferty’s increasing pack responsibilities, we paused to greet friends and confirm final arrangements.

“Everything’s set,” Siobhan assured us, elegant as always in a green dress that complemented her auburn hair. “The elders are already at the circle. Tourists will be occupied with the fireworks display at ten, giving us plenty of time.”

“Perfect.” Rafferty squeezed her shoulder gratefully. “We’ll head up now. See you there?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.” She winked at me. “Looking good, Professor. The robe suits you.”

“It’s growing on me,” I admitted. “Though I still maintain that ceremonial garb is inherently impractical for outdoor rituals.”

“Always the pragmatist.” She laughed, shooing us toward the door. “Go on, future Alpha. Your pack awaits.”

As we made our way through town toward the hidden trail to the stone circle, I reflected on how much had changed in six months. Not just in my understanding of the world, but in my place within it. I’d gone from solitary academic to integral member of a community—a community that happened to transform into wolves once a month, but a community nonetheless.

“You’re thinking too loud,” Rafferty observed as we reached the trailhead. “Care to share with the class?”

I smiled at his teasing. “Just contemplating the statistical improbability of my current situation. Six months ago, I would have calculated the odds of participating in an actual werewolf ritual as approximately zero.”

“And now?”