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TWENTY-SIX

H er pupils expanded, then contracted to feline slits as her lioness responded to his intensity. Her hand lifted shakily to his face, fingertips trailing across his cheekbone where scales shimmered just beneath the surface.

The touch ignited something primal. Centuries of control shattered. Xai captured her lips with his own, pouring hundreds years of solitude and newfound need into the contact. Heat flared between them—not just his dragon fire but something equally powerful from her lioness spirit.

Her fingers threaded through his hair, weak but determined, pulling him closer despite her injuries. When they finally parted, both breathless, her eyes glowed with feline gold.

“Don’t misinterpret,” she murmured, attempting to regain her usual sass. “That was... shock and blood loss... not me falling for a dragon.”

He smiled, the expression transforming his usually stern features. “Of course.”

“Though your... bedside manner... exceeds expectations.” Her eyelids grew heavy, the night’s trauma and healing magic draining her remaining strength.

“Rest now. I’ll stand guard.”

“Not necessary...” she protested even as consciousness slipped away.

“It is to me,” he whispered, but she had already surrendered to exhaustion.

Xai settled into a chair beside her, one hand resting lightly on her wrist to monitor her pulse. Through the night, he maintained his vigil, occasionally pressing his palm to her forehead when fever threatened. Each time, he channeled precise warmth to combat infection.

As midnight deepened, he whispered an ancient draconic oath, the sacred language rarely spoken in modern times.

“ Draconis protego. Ignis custodiat. Cor meum vivet in te. ”

Dragon protect. Fire guard. My heart lives in you.

The words carried magical weight, making the very air vibrate. Nearby crystals on Zina’s shelves hummed with sympathetic resonance. The oath bound him to her protection in ways modern supernatural society had largely forgotten.

His phone buzzed near dawn, disrupting his meditation. Noven’s name flashed on the screen.

“Where are you?” his security chief demanded without preamble. “You missed our 5:00 AM security briefing, and you’re never late.”

“At Zina Parker’s,” Xai replied, voice low to avoid waking her. “She was attacked.”

A brief silence. “How bad?”

“She’ll recover.”

“And the attackers?”

“Will not, once I find them.” The temperature in the room rose with his words.

“I’m on my way. And I’ll bring breakfast. Even dragons need food.” Noven paused. “Should I alert the rest of our... inner circle?”

Xai considered. “Yes. Discreetly.”