Touch of Magic
True Mates Generations Book 8
Alicia Montgomery
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 Alicia Montgomery
Edited by LaVerne Clark
Cover by Jacqueline Sweet
032520
All rights reserved.
About the Author
Alicia Montgomery has always dreamed of becoming a romance novel writer. She started writing down her stories in now long-forgotten diaries and notebooks, never thinking that her dream would come true. After taking the well-worn path to a stable career, she is now plunging into the world of self-publishing.
Also by Alicia Montgomery
The True Mates Series
Fated Mates
Blood Moon
Romancing the Alpha
Witch’s Mate
Taming the Beast
Tempted by the Wolf
The Lone Wolf Defenders Series
Killian’s Secret
Loving Quinn
All for Connor
The True Mates Standalone Novels
Holly Jolly Lycan Christmas
A Mate for Jackson: Bad Alpha Dads
True Mates Generations
A Twist of Fate
Claiming the Alpha
Alpha Ascending
A Witch in Time
Highland Wolf
Daughter of the Dragon
Shadow Wolf
A Touch of Magic
Heart of the Wolf
The Blackstone Mountain Series
The Blackstone Dragon Heir
The Blackstone Bad Dragon
The Blackstone Bear
The Blackstone Wolf
The Blackstone Lion
The Blackstone She-Wolf
The Blackstone She-Bear
The Blackstone She-Dragon
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Epilogue
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Prologue
Three years ago …
The call came at three o’clock in the morning, and anyone who’s ever been woken up by their phone at that time knows that such a call would be important. That’s why Cross Jonasson immediately picked up the cell from his bedside table and answered it.
“It’s me.”
The sound of his father’s voice made him sit up. As hybrid—part Lycan, part warlock—his eyes naturally adjusted to the darkness so he didn’t need to reach for the light. His wolf, too, heard the urgency in his father’s voice and was immediately on alert.
“What’s wrong? Is it Mom?”
“No, it’s Gunnar.” The words came out short and clipped, his father’s accent becoming more pronounced. “Come now.”
“I’ll be there.”
Rolling out of bed, he grabbed his discarded clothes from last night and quickly shrugged them on. From the dead seriousness of his father’s tone, he knew there would be no time to wash up or even gulp down a cup of coffee, even if he could make it himself on the go. Of course, while most people made coffee by brewing grounds, he could literally make coffee from thin air, via transmogrification, one of the powers he’d inherited from his warlock father.
As he grabbed a rubber band to tie up his messy blond locks, he focused his thoughts on Gunnar’s location. He’d been there numerous times, so it wasn’t difficult to transport himself there using the other power he’d inherited from his father—teleportation across long distances.
In seconds, he transported himself from his Lower East Side apartment in New York to the middle of nowhere in the Shenandoah Valley. He appeared in the corner of the living area of the sparse cabin, a spot he and his father had designated as their transport spot. Teleportation, after all, was a tricky power. He needed to have been somewhere before to transport there, or have a clear idea of the location and view of the place. Even then, it was dangerous as he could accidentally materialize inside a tree or piece of furniture. It was so dangerous that he didn’t even attempt it until he had been studying with his father for at least a decade.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he strode into the cabin’s lone bedroom.
Daric stood by the bed, his hand on his son’s shoulder as he looked to Cross with those blue-green eyes so much like his own. “It happened again.”
Though Gunnar had his face buried in his hands as he sat at the edge of the bed, Cross could tell from the tense lines of his body that something was very wrong. Not as bad as the last time—the incident that lead him to live like a hermit in this remote cabin—but this seemed grave nonetheless. Moving closer, he mirrored his father’s gesture and placed his hand on his brother’s other shoulder. “Gunnar, are you okay?”
Slowly, Gunnar turned his face up. His skin was pale and his brown eyes had a glazed-over look. “It was awful, Cross. Terrible. We … you … Dad … Mom … everyone dies.”
Daric’s eyes turned stormy. “He’s had another premonition.”
And that was the gift his younger brother had inherited from their father. The ability to see the future. However, unlike Daric’s power—which relied on touch—Gunnar’s was more spontaneous. He didn’t need to touch anyone to see their future. He just saw it.
Cross knelt beside him. “Was it clear?” Gunnar nodded. “Have you told Dad?” Another nod. “Can you tell me?”
There was a moment of hesitation in Gunnar’s face, but he took a short, sharp breath and began to speak. “It was so clear … so many there … you, Dad, Mom. Astrid. And Nick Vrost …” He shook his head. “No, it wasn’t Nick, this guy was younger. Maybe one of his sons. One of the twins or the eldest one. Also … Julianna Anderson, and Elise, and two more men I don’t recognize.”
“What were they—we doing?” Cross asked.
“A white marble table. Two things on top—a small sword and a pendant. There were hooded figures all around. Red robes. Red eyes.”
Gunnar became even paler, and Cross knew why. Though he’d never seen one before, he knew his history well. Red robes and red eyes. It could only mean one thing—mages. “And then?”
“There was a ceremony or something. They were chanting. You came up, trying to stop them, but you couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because they had … there was a woman. White-blonde hair. Unusual eyes. Blue—no, they’re like amethysts. And she’s wearing a ring. It’s silver with a small red stone in the middle. She
