Page 19

NINETEEN

T wenty minutes later, Zina found herself working lavender oil into Mrs. Plumworth’s shoulders while the woman chattered endlessly about the charity dinner. Her hands moved through familiar motions—press, glide, knead—while her mind circled the morning’s revelations.

“—the entire room felt the temperature rise when you two locked eyes,” Mrs. Plumworth continued, completely unaware of Zina’s distraction. “Like dragon fire meets lioness heat. The champagne glasses were practically sweating! And the way he positioned himself between you and that dreadful Madrigal man? Pure alpha territorial behavior.”

“Elder Emberwylde attended in his official capacity,” Zina replied automatically, though her lioness preened at the memory of his protective stance.

“Official capacity, my tail feathers! That dragon was staking a claim clear as day.” Mrs. Plumworth twisted to look at her, forcing Zina to adjust her grip. “Speaking of claims, did you know Severin Madrigal tried to buy this property three times before your mother’s will transferred it to you?”

Zina’s hands froze mid-motion. “What?”

“Oh yes! My cousin Geraldine works at the county records office—sweet girl, bit of a magpie shifter, loves shiny things and paperwork equally.” Mrs. Plumworth settled back onto the massage table, warming to her subject. “She says Madrigal’s been obsessed with this exact spot for years. Offered your mother increasingly ridiculous sums, but she always refused. Claims there’s an ancient power nexus right under your massage tables!”

The oil bottle slipped from Zina’s suddenly numb fingers, creating a fragrant splash across the hardwood floor. Her pulse thundered in her ears as pieces clicked into place with sickening clarity. The convergence point. The magical wellspring her mother had guarded with her life. Severin didn’t want her business—he wanted to control Enchanted Falls’s magical foundation.

“Are you all right, dear?” Mrs. Plumworth’s voice seemed to come from very far away. “You’ve gone pale as moonlight.”

“Fine,” Zina managed, forcing herself to continue the massage with trembling hands. “Just surprised.”

“Well, of course, you are! Imagine, sitting on top of all that power without even knowing it.” Mrs. Plumworth’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “Geraldine says there’s more to it than just the ley lines. Something about old family histories and sacred protections. The Madrigals believe they have some ancestral claim to this land, though your mother always insisted otherwise.”

Zina barely heard the rest of Mrs. Plumworth’s monologue, her mind racing through implications. Every strange occurrence since she’d opened, now the sabotage—all traced back to what lay beneath her spa.

As soon as Mrs. Plumworth departed, promising to spread word about Zina’s “divine healing touch” to her entire book club and possibly the mayor himself, Zina rushed to find Bryn.

Her assistant crouched on the supply room floor, surrounded by cleaning supplies and muttering creative curses about proper storage techniques while mopping up the spilled oil.

“Dragon fever strike again?” Bryn looked up, then immediately sobered at Zina’s expression. “Or did our favorite gossip actually deliver useful information for once?”

“There’s a power nexus under the spa. That’s what Severin wants.”

The mop clattered to the floor, forgotten. “Holy shit.” Bryn stood slowly, processing the implications. “That explains everything...” She glanced toward the damaged circuit breaker. “He’s trying to force you out.”

“Or make running the spa impossible.” Zina’s lioness paced anxiously, recognizing a threat to their territory that went far deeper than property lines. “If he can’t buy it legally?—”

“He’ll make damn sure you can’t keep it.” Bryn finished grimly. Then, attempting to lighten the mood: “Maybe we need some dragon fire for security upgrades. Or at least your dragon’s scary face. One molten glare from those golden eyes would send any saboteur running for the hills.”

“He’s not my dragon,” Zina protested weakly, though her lioness purred at the thought.

“Save it for someone who didn’t watch you two practically combust on the dance floor.” Bryn’s expression turned serious again. “But this changes everything, boss. Madrigal isn’t after prime real estate. He wants primal power.”

The weight of generations pressed on Zina’s shoulders. Her mother hadn’t just left her a spa—she’d entrusted her with safeguarding a crucial piece of Enchanted Falls’s magical ecosystem. The responsibility felt crushing.

“I should talk to Luciana.” The thought formed as she spoke it. “She seemed genuine at the dinner. Maybe she knows more about her brother’s obsession with this location. There’s something about family histories that Mrs. Plumworth mentioned—maybe this feud goes back generations.”

“Or maybe we just call your dragon and let him roast?—”

The front door chimed, cutting off Bryn’s suggestion. Both women tensed until Elena Childers’s melodic voice called out a greeting. Their first scheduled appointment of the day had arrived.