Page 40 of Shift of Morals
From my peripheral, Ash and Moira high-fived.
The shop trembled, glass vases clinking against each other as my mother’s magic rose.
“Remember, you are here on guest rules,” I said softly.
“You cannot beat me,” she said confidently.
“You’re right. But my wards will expel you before I have to.”
The bell over the door jingled. I stilled, cursing myself that I’d forgotten to lock it with such a dangerous guest inside.
But familiar magic slid over my shoulders, curling around me sinuously.
“Am I interrupting something?” Caelan’s rumbly voice asked, his stormy eyes landing on my mother.
Shit. Fuck. Damn.
He would sense what she was immediately.
“My guest was just leaving,” I said, keeping my eyes on Cliona.
My mother’s eyes narrowed. “You are the Shifter Lord.”
Caelan inclined his head. “I am. And you are…”
She held out a graceful hand. “My name is Cliona.”
The only surprise Caelan showed was a slow blink. He took her hand, palm down, and brushed a kiss over the back of her palm. “To what does Joy Springs owe the pleasure of hosting a goddess in our midst?”
My mother smiled prettily, her fae glow so bright she was almost painful to look at. “I’ve always heard you were a charmer. I’m here to visit?—”
Oh gods, please don’t.
“My daughter.”
Caelan’s brows flicked up, his gaze going to me for a split second. I could almost see his furiously spinning thoughts. “Our Evie has been keeping secrets,” he murmured.
Mother’s laugh sounded like hundreds of tinkling bells. “She’s quite good at her secrecy,” she agreed.
“And the purpose of your visit?”
“Stop being nosy, Lord,” I snapped.
Caelan’s grin made me want to stab him in the kidney.
But my mother, pretending to be vapid and guileless, kept spilling our business. “I’m trying to convince Evie to return home.”
Caelan’s eyes flickered. “Oh? And where would home be?”
“She’s half-fae, Lord. Evie belongs in the Otherworld, even if she’s temporarily chosen this place as a waypoint.”
“Mother, your time runs out in less than a minute.”
Caelan glanced at me, his brow furrowing.
“I demand an extension,” Cliona snapped.
“No,” I snapped back.
