Page 23 of The Right to Bear Claws
It was true. Even the most stubborn committee members—including Elder Bram, who'd initially grumbled about involving outsiders in town business—had started deferring to Kaia's judgment on various details. She had a gift for finding compromise solutions that made everyone feel heard.
"She belongs here," Lucien observed.
"Yeah. She does."
"But?"
"But nothing." Elias forced himself to focus on the conversation rather than the way Kaia's laugh made him feel. "Everything's fine."
Lucien's green eyes held the kind of sharp intelligence that made him an excellent night hunter and an occasionally inconvenient friend. "Right. And that's why you've been hovering around her like she might disappear at any moment?"
"I'm not hovering."
"You're hovering. Question is, what's got you spooked?"
Elias watched Kaia gesture animatedly while explaining her vision for the costume contest staging area. She looked relaxed,engaged, genuinely happy to be contributing to something larger than herself. But he could see the shadows beneath her eyes, the careful way she monitored everyone's reactions, like she was still waiting for someone to tell her she didn't belong.
"She's pulling away," he said quietly. "Not obviously, but I can feel it. Like she's preparing to run."
"Any idea why?"
"Whatever's hunting her is ramping up the psychological pressure." His jaw clenched with frustrated helplessness. "And there's nothing I can do about it. Can't fight something that exists in her sleep."
"You can be here when she wakes up," Lucien pointed out. "Can remind her that she's not alone."
"For now. But if she decides I'm better off without her..."
"She cares about you, Elias. Anyone with eyes can see that. But she's spent years believing she doesn't deserve good things. Your job is to prove her wrong."
Twyla's voice cut across the room with characteristic authority.
"All right, people! Let's go through the final checklist. Decorations?"
"Sourced and ready for installation," Edgar called out.
"Entertainment?"
"Local band confirmed, backup playlist prepared," Maeve reported.
"Security?"
"Discrete patrols established, ward stations mapped," Lucien said.
"Food vendors?"
"Contracted and coordinated," Kaia said, consulting a neatly organized list. "Including backup plans for weather contingencies."
A murmur of approval went around the room. Twyla beamed like a proud teacher.
"Perfect! I think we're as ready as we can be. Kaia, excellent work on the vendor coordination. You might have missed your calling as an event planner."
"It was fun," Kaia said with genuine warmth. "I've never been part of organizing something like this. It feels good to contribute."
"You've done more than contribute," Elder Bram said gruffly. "Your suggestions solved half the problems we've been arguing about for weeks."
The rare praise from the notoriously difficult council member made Kaia's face light up with pleasure. This was what she needed—recognition that she had value, that her presence made things better rather than worse.
As the meeting wound down and people began gathering their papers, Kaia approached him with that soft smile that never failed to make him feel like the lovesick teenager Twyla had mentioned.
