Page 48

FORTY-EIGHT

G olden dawn light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Xai’s penthouse, illuminating dust motes that danced through the air like miniature constellations. He hadn’t drawn the curtains last night—he hadn’t returned home until the sky had already begun to lighten. The memory of leaving Zina’s place hovered at the edge of his consciousness, refusing to fade despite his attempts to focus on council matters.

Xai stared at his tablet screen, the urgent council alert blurring before his eyes. He’d read the same paragraph four times without absorbing a single word. The message warned of unusual activity at multiple ley line junctions throughout Enchanted Falls, but his mind kept drifting to amber eyes and the scent of lavender mixed with something distinctly feline.

He reached for his coffee mug—an ancient ceramic piece bearing the Emberwylde crest. His fingers curled around the handle as his thoughts betrayed him once more.

Zina, curled against him on her sofa, her breathing soft and even. The trust in that simple act of falling asleep beside him had pierced something deep within his chest. Her hair had cascaded across his arm, silken strands catching the first light of dawn. He’d tucked a blanket around her shoulders before reluctantly leaving, loath to disrupt her hard-earned rest.

Heat surged through his body unbidden. The crack of ceramic split the morning quiet.

Xai blinked down at his hand, where his mug had liquefied like candle wax. Coffee hissed across the marble desk surface, the acrid scent of burning liquid filling the air.

“Perfect,” he muttered, pulling his hand back. He examined his palm—unmarked, of course. Dragon hide had its advantages. But the sight of burnished copper scales rippling beneath the skin of his wrist startled him. They faded almost immediately, but the momentary loss of control disturbed him more than the ruined heirloom.

Mine , his dragon side whispered possessively.

Xai closed his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nose as he centered himself. Here he was, making rookie mistakes over a lioness he’d known for mere weeks.

The door swung open without a knock. Only one person in all of Enchanted Falls dared such familiarity.

“Your coffee smells like a forest fire,” Noven announced, strolling in with a coffee carrier in one hand and a bakery bag in the other. His security chief paused mid-step, dark eyes taking in the puddle of coffee and melted ceramic. A slow grin spread across his face as understanding dawned.

“A lioness unravels you in a week.” Noven shook his head, setting the coffee and bag on the edge of the desk, safely away from the mess. “I owe Rust twenty gold pieces.”

“You bet on my personal life?” Xai arched an eyebrow, though he shouldn’t have been surprised. Noven had spent centuries finding new ways to amuse himself.

“Not on your life,” Noven corrected, his grin widening. “On your mug collection. Rust said you’d destroy at least one within a month of meeting Ms. Parker. I gave you more credit—figured you’d hold out for six weeks, minimum.” He nudged the bag forward. “Dragon-toasted croissants. Figured you’d need sustenance after your... late night.”

Xai pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is there a point to this interruption beyond mockery?”

Noven perched on the edge of the desk, his expression sobering slightly. “Several, actually.” He pulled out his phone, swiping through security images. “My contacts report suspicious activity at multiple ley line junctions throughout town. Energy fluctuations, magical residue consistent with probing spells.” He handed the phone to Xai, displaying photographs of strange magical patterns etched into the ground at three different locations. “Whoever’s testing the boundaries knows what they’re looking for.”

Xai studied the images, unease settling in his stomach. The patterns resembled ancient binding magic—something that hadn’t been attempted in Enchanted Falls for centuries. “Council’s called an emergency meeting,” he said, reaching for the fresh coffee Noven had brought.

“Which you’re going to be late for,” Noven pointed out, glancing at the sleek timepiece on the wall. “First time in... ever?”

“I’ll manage.”

“Also,” Noven added, his tone deceptively casual, “Mrs. Plumworth spotted you leaving the Parker residence at dawn. Her magpie eyes miss nothing, apparently. She’s already telling anyone who’ll listen about your overnight ‘research session.’“

Heat crept up Xai’s neck. “That bird needs a hobby other than spying on her neighbors.”

“You’re her hobby now. Congratulations.” Noven reached into the bag, pulling out a croissant for himself. “She cornered me at the bakery for details. Wanted to know if dragons and lions are ‘compatible.’“ He made air quotes with his fingers, nearly dropping his pastry in the process.

Smoke curled from Xai’s nostrils. “What did you tell her?”

“That I value my continued existence too much to discuss my boss’s love life.” Noven took a large bite, speaking around it. “Though privately, I’m curious too.”

“There’s no love life to discuss,” Xai muttered, though the heat in his skin suggested otherwise.

Noven studied him for a long moment, his usual jovial expression slipping into something more contemplative. “I’ve never seen you this... invested.” He brushed crumbs from his fingers. “It’s refreshing.” A pause. “Terrifying, but refreshing.”

Xai met his friend’s gaze, not bothering to deny what they both knew. “She’s different.”

“Obviously.” Noven gestured to the ruined mug with his half-eaten croissant. “The question is whether ‘different’ means ‘dangerous.’“

“For whom?” Xai asked quietly.

Noven’s laugh lacked its usual mirth. “That’s what worries me.” He stood, adjusting his jacket. “Council’s waiting. Try not to incinerate the table if someone mentions the Parker spa.”

Xai’s glare could have melted steel.

“Too soon?” Noven grinned, backing toward the door. “I’ll have the car ready in five minutes. Might want to change your tie—that one has coffee stains.”

The door closed on Noven’s retreating figure, leaving Xai alone with the uncomfortable realization that for the first time in centuries, his pristine routine lay in shambles because of a woman with amber eyes and a laugh that had carved itself a place in his thoughts.