Page 37 of His Lucky Charm

“Speaking of documentation,” I began, then hesitated.

He pulled back slightly to see my face. “What is it? That’s your ‘I’ve been thinking about something important’ expression.”

I smiled at how well he read me. “I’ve been considering a new project. Something more… comprehensive than my academic work so far.”

“I’m listening.” His full attention was on me now, though we continued our slow dance around the floor.

“A complete history of the Guardians,” I said quietly. “Not for publication—at least not widely. But for preservation. For Abigail and future generations. The true story, without omissions or coded language.”

Understanding dawned in his eyes. “An internal record. Like the oldest books, but updated for modern times.”

“Exactly.” This had been percolating in my mind for months, especially since Abigail’s birth. “There’s so much oral history that’s never been properly documented. Experiences that might be lost as elders pass. Techniques for control and transformation that exist only in memory.”

“It would be invaluable,” he acknowledged, expression thoughtful. “But also potentially dangerous if it fell into the wrong hands.”

“Hence the limited access. Digital copies with multiple layers of security, physical copies kept in protected locations.” I’d thought through the practical aspects carefully. “A resource for the pack, not the public.”

Rafferty was quiet for a moment, considering. Then his face broke into a smile that still made my heart skip after all these years.

“You continue to amaze me, Dr. Byrne-O’Sullivan,” he said softly. “Just when I think I understand the depth of your commitment to us—to our history and future—you reveal another layer.”

“Is that a yes?” I pressed. “We’d need approval from the current Alpha and elders, of course.”

“It’s a definite yes from me,” he confirmed. “And Dad will agree. The elders too, I suspect. You’ve more than proven your trustworthiness.”

The validation warmed me, even after years of acceptance within the pack. “Good. I’ll prepare a formal proposal.”

“Always the academic.” His hand moved to the small of my back, drawing me closer as the music slowed further. “But maybe leave the proposal until tomorrow?”

The intent in his eyes was clear, sending a familiar heat through me despite the public setting. “Eager to get me home, Alpha?”

“Very.” His voice dropped to that register that still made my knees weak. “It’s been three days, Professor. My control has limits.”

I glanced around at the gathering, noting that several couples had already departed and others were deep in conversations that wouldn’t require our participation. “I think our social obligations have been fulfilled.”

“Thoroughly,” he agreed, already guiding me toward the door with the subtle urgency I recognized from years of reading his moods. “Siobhan won’t even notice we’re gone.”

“She’s already noticed,” I corrected, catching his sister’s knowing smirk from across the room. “But I doubt she’s surprised.”

Rafferty shrugged, unrepentant. “Pack expects it. Full moon’s tomorrow night, instincts are already heightened, and my mate just returned from being away. We get a free pass.”

The reference to the approaching full moon explained his increased tactility throughout the evening—the way he’d kept me within arm’s reach, the frequent casual touches, the intensity in his gaze. After five years, I was attuned to the subtle shifts in his behavior as the lunar cycle progressed.

We said our goodbyes quickly, receiving knowing looks and good-natured teasing from pack members who understood the pull between mates, particularly with lunar influences in play. Siobhan pressed the whiskey bottle into my hands as we left—a gift or a bribe to ensure her brother’s good mood, I wasn’t entirely sure.

* * *

The drive home was charged with anticipation, Rafferty’s hand on my thigh a constant reminder of his intentions. By the time we reached our cottage, the pretense of casual conversation had been abandoned in favor of heated glances and increasingly direct statements of intent.

“Three days is too long,” he murmured as we entered our home, door barely closed behind us before he was pressing me against it. “Missed you too much.”

“You’ve survived longer separations,” I reminded him, though my body was already responding to his proximity, his scent, the familiar weight of him against me.

“Barely.” His mouth found my neck, zeroing in on the sensitive spot he’d discovered years ago. “And never this close to the full moon.”

I tilted my head to give him better access, hands already working at the buttons of his shirt. “Poor Alpha. Such hardship.”

His answering growl vibrated against my skin. “Teasing your Alpha is dangerous, Professor.”