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It’s easy to find her as I climb in, turn on the Jeep, and start driving toward Glensbrook. I felt her leave her parents’ place earlier this morning, and that same tug in my chest leads me to her now as I make my way into town and find a place to park.

Strange, so strange, to be drawn to her this way now that I’m allowing her in. And probably another in the long list of things my ember should rightfully be annoyed at me about, but I have too much hope in my heart this morning to let that bother me too much.

Getting out of the car, I breathe the fresh air deeply into my lungs and concentrate on finding her scent. It’s faint, but there, calling me down a block from where I’ve parked.

Starting off down the street, I let my eyes wander over the scenery around me, imagining what it must have been like for Kenna to grow up here.

It’s a quaint little town. Quiet and homey, with a single-block Main Street and plenty of houses with white picket fences. Sleepy and comfortable, typical, average…

Absurd, to picture Kenna here, somewhere so quiet and unassuming.

It’s no wonder she would have stood out in a place like this. The narrow streets and tranquil banality aren’t nearly enough to contain her.

Arriving at a small coffee shop, I follow her scent inside.

Kenna is sitting in a booth near the front windows, with sunlight spilling over her fiery hair and her sketching tablet propped up in front of her.

She doesn’t notice me right away. It gives me a few stolen moments to study her, savor her, watch her where she’s sitting with her brow furrowed and her head bent low over whatever it is she’s working on. She’s lost in it, entirely focused on what she’s creating, and the sight of her makes my heart constrict in my chest.

How the hell did I ever mistake this feeling for anything but what it is, what it has been since the beginning?

I take a few steps toward her, and Kenna spots me when I’m half-way across the room, head snapping up and eyes fixed on me as I approach.

“Good morning,” I say, sliding into the bench seat on the other side of the booth.

She doesn’t answer right away, just stares at me with one brow quirked up and an expression on her face I can’t quite read.

“Should I go?”

It just might kill me if she says yes, but she’d be well within her right to tell me to take a hike.

Letting out a long-suffering breath, she shakes her head. “No. You can stay.”

Despite that small victory, silence falls again as we continue our staring match. Feeling the strain of that awkwardness, I glance down at her tablet where it’s resting on the table. When she sees me looking, she reaches down and grabs it, pressing it to her chest so I can’t see what’s on the screen.

“What are you working on?”

She holds the tablet even closer for a few seconds before relenting. She lays it back on the table, and opens up an image gallery.

“Some illustrations,” she says, sliding it closer so I can see.

I flip through a few of the images, each one more fantastical than the last. Bursting with color and emotion and whimsy, they all feel like precious pieces of my ember’s heart splashed across the screen.

“These are wonderful, Kenna,” I say softly.

She relaxes a little, looking down and watching me scroll through the images.

“I was just offered a contract,” she says, almost shy. “Working with a monster romance author, designing her book covers.”

“I’m not surprised,” I tell her, meeting her eyes. “You’re incredibly talented.”

A gorgeous blush climbs up her cheeks at the compliment, and the smile she cracks makes my heart ache. At least until I glance back down at the tablet and my finger swipes over the screen. Kenna’s eyes track the movement, then go wide.

“Wait—don’t—“

Too late, I flip to the next image.

There, staring up from the screen, is a golden dragon with his wings spread in flight, eyes nearly glowing with as magnificently as she’s captured them.