Page 7 of Magic Claimed
I wanted to say so much more. I wanted to tell him how much I missed him. How much doubt cycled through my brain on a daily basis when I didn’t hear from him.
Was he second-guessing his choice?
Had the mate bond faded now that we weren’t in close proximity?
Had the Shapeshifter Court’s disapproval made him rethink everything?
We’d been together such a short time, but already, this separation felt like someone had chopped off one of my limbs. I assumed it was one of the side effects of the mate bond forming between us, but that wasn’t a discussion I wanted to have over text.
My fingers hovered over the screen, trying to decide how best to reassure him. I was a slow texter to begin with—this was my very first personal cell phone, and I’d only had it for about a week—and apparently the hesitation was just long enough…
My phone buzzed again with an incoming call, and my heart lurched as I took a few steps away from Kes and Ethan before answering.
“Hey,” I said quietly, once again fighting back the threat of actual tears. Stupid feelings. I never used to cry about anything, and here I was crying about a phone call.
“Hey yourself.” Callum’s voice surrounded me with its warm, smoky timbre, wrapping me in a sense of safety and home.
“Are you sure it’s safe to call?” The Shapeshifter Court didn’t know about our bond yet, and we wanted to keep it that way until after we’d dealt with the charges against me.
“Strangely enough, I’m actually at home right now,” he told me. “By myself. Preparing for the unfamiliar ritual known assleepbefore I head up to Colorado tomorrow.”
I would have rewarded him with a laugh, except I knew that the joke was meant to gloss over the painful truth—he hadn’t slept much in days.
“Psshh, who needs that stuff,” I scoffed lightly.
“Raine.”
I loved hearing him say my name. But this time, there was nearly as much pain as comfort. I wanted him here with me. Wanted to know if we were still okay. But I had no clue how to ask, and I didn’t want him to worry.
Love was so much harder than it looked in the storybooks.
“I just need to know if you’re okay,” he said softly.
“How did you know to call?”
“I sensed something off,” he admitted. “Felt like I had to hear your voice.”
How could I feel so much warmth and so much worry all at the same time?
“I swear to you, I’m fine,” I told him firmly. “No one was hurt, and Faris has it handled. I miss you, and I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but we’ll get through it. And I know how much you need to sleep, so don’t worry. We’ve got this.”
I heard him sigh. Heard a rustling and suddenly caught a mental picture of him lying in bed, staring at the ceiling with the phone to his ear and one hand behind his head. Was it real?
Not like I was going to ask. I didn’t really want him to know I was thinking about how he looked while lying in bed.
But then I heard something rumbling or rattling near the phone and couldn’t help being curious.
“What is that sound?”
“Oh, that?” His voice went muffled for a moment, and for a horrified instant, I wondered whether there was someone else in the room.
“You can stop freaking out,” he said, and I could almost hear his grin. “That was Ember. She doesn’t like it when I ignore her.”
Ember. The kitten I’d saved from being tortured by a gang of teens back in October. He’d kept her, and had probably been spoiling her rotten. And honestly, nothing could have made me happier.
“Not to change the subject,” Callum said abruptly, “but how’s Kira really doing?”
I suspected he would never truly stop worrying about his little sister—not after the years he’d spent trying to find her when she went missing. Knowing she was hurting no doubt only added to the burdens he was carrying.
