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FORTY

D awn painted Enchanted Falls in pastel watercolors, the rising sun casting long shadows through the front window of her spa. Zina Parker breathed in the lightly herb-scented air as she approached the front door from inside. Dew glistened on the protective charm hanging from the door handle outside—Kalyna’s handiwork from yesterday.

Her key stuck in the lock, requiring an extra jiggle—a quirk she’d been meaning to fix but secretly found endearing. The familiar resistance made this place hers in a way nothing else had since her parents’ deaths.

Switching on the soft recessed lighting, she surveyed the reception area with critical eyes. Glass display cases replaced, water damage scrubbed away, protective sigils hidden discreetly beneath fresh paint. Considering yesterday’s chaos, the recovery bordered on miraculous.

Zina traced her fingers along the repaired reception counter. “You’d be proud, Mom,” she whispered, her voice barely disturbing the morning stillness. “We’re still standing.”

Her phone buzzed with a message from Bryn: Running late. Coffee machine disaster at home. Save me.

Smiling, Zina typed back: No worries. I’ll put on a pot here.

She had just filled the coffeemaker when the distinctive rumble of a powerful engine broke the quiet. Not the practical hum of Bryn’s sensible sedan or Artemis’s cheerful hybrid. Something deeper, richer—almost predatory in its confidence.

Curiosity drew her to the window. Outside, a vintage Aston Martin in midnight blue eased to the curb like a sleek panther. Her breath caught as Xai Emberwylde unfolded his tall frame from the driver’s seat. Morning light played across his features, softening the usual austerity of his expression.

He wore dark jeans and a chambray button-down with rolled sleeves—casual by his standards, yet somehow still commanding. His light brown hair caught golden highlights in the sun, a subtle reminder of his draconic nature.

Zina’s heart performed an annoying flutter. Her lioness stirred, interested in a way that made her cheeks warm. She caught her reflection in the window—dark waves tumbling over her shoulders, yesterday’s exhaustion lingering beneath her eyes. No time to freshen up before he reached the door.

The bell chimed as Xai entered, bringing with him that distinctive scent—cedar and spice with an underlying hint of woodsmoke that triggered her enhanced senses. His golden-brown eyes found hers immediately, warmth flickering in their depths before he glanced around the restored space.

“Impressive recovery,” he said, his deep voice resonating in the quiet room.

Zina crossed her arms, leaning against the counter in forced casualness. “Nothing keeps a Parker down for long.” She gestured toward the coffeemaker gurgling in the corner. “You’re out early. Council crisis or social call?”

A hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth. “Neither. A proposition, actually.”

“That sounds ominous coming from a dragon.” She raised an eyebrow, surprised by her own boldness.

“Professional, I assure you.” He approached, stopping a respectful distance away. “Though perhaps with mutual benefits.”

Zina busied herself retrieving two mugs from beneath the counter, hiding her ridiculous blush. “I’m listening.”

“Have you heard of Aroma Alcove?”

The mug nearly slipped from her fingers. “The exclusive supernatural retreat? With the legendary scent masters?”

“The very same.” Xai accepted the coffee she offered, their fingers brushing momentarily. A tiny spark jumped between them—literal, not figurative. Neither acknowledged it. “They’re expecting us, if you’re interested.”

“Expecting... Wait, you’ve arranged—” She narrowed her eyes. “How did you manage that? They have a three-year waiting list.”

He sipped his coffee, expression unreadable save for a glint of amusement. “Several generations provide ample time to cultivate useful connections.”

“I bet it does.” She studied him over the rim of her mug. “Why now? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a crisis with Severin.”

“Precisely why we should go.” Xai set his mug down, leaning forward slightly. “Every crisis point benefits from strategic retreat and reassessment. Besides...” His voice dropped lower. “Their aromatherapy techniques for supernatural species could benefit your spa.”