Page 51

FIFTY-ONE

P urrfect Oasis Spa greeted Xai with controlled chaos. Water sprayed from ruptured pipes near the ceiling, pooling on marble floors beneath overturned potted plants. Broken glass from shattered mirrors glittered across the reception area, and magical energy crackled visibly around light fixtures, causing them to flicker like fireflies caught in glass.

At the center of it all stood Zina, barefoot in black yoga pants and a sage-green tank top that hugged curves his hands suddenly ached to trace. Her honey-brown curls had been hastily tied in a messy bun, exposing the elegant line of her neck as she directed staff and volunteers with natural authority.

“Jamie, can you check if the east wing barriers are holding? Bryn, we need those absorption crystals from storage—the blue ones, not the green.” She turned, addressing a young wolf shifter Xai didn’t recognize. “Stefan, once the water’s contained, start cataloging the damage for insurance.”

Their eyes met across the room, and Xai felt an almost physical jolt of connection. Relief flooded her features, matched by his own overwhelming gratitude at finding her unharmed. Something possessive stirred within him at the sight of her in her element—competent, commanding, and utterly captivating.

She crossed to him, sidestepping puddles with feline grace. “Perfect timing. We could use someone with fire magic to dry out these carpets before they’re completely ruined.”

Xai found himself smiling despite the dire circumstances. Trust Zina to focus on practical solutions rather than panicking. “Happy to help with more than carpets.”

Without discussion, they fell into complementary roles—Zina coordinating people while Xai handled the most dangerous magical fluctuations. He moved through the spa, absorbing excess energy that could harm humans and weaker supernaturals, his draconic nature converting it to heat he could safely channel away.

He paused in a darkened hallway leading to the treatment rooms, placing his palm against a wall where magical energy pulsed oddly. The paint bubbled beneath his touch, not from his heat but from something pushing outward within the structure itself.

Zina appeared at his side, her shoulder brushing his arm as she examined the phenomenon. The casual contact sent a pleasant burn through his system, his inner dragon preening at her proximity and trust.

“The fluctuations seem strongest through here,” she said, pointing toward the hydrotherapy room at the hallway’s end. “Can you check it?”

Xai nodded, acutely aware of her scent—lavender and something uniquely Zina that his dragon side recognized and craved. His temperature rose noticeably as they moved down the hallway together.

She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow. “Useful in a crisis,” she quipped, noticing the heat radiating from him, “but we should probably keep you away from the furniture. I can’t afford to replace everything.”

A rumbling chuckle escaped him before he could suppress it. Even amid chaos, she maintained her sharp wit. “I’ll try to contain my enthusiasm.”

The corner of her mouth twitched upward. “That a dragon thing? Enthusiasm equals spontaneous combustion?”

“Only around certain lionesses,” he replied before he could censor himself.

Her steps faltered momentarily, amber eyes widening before a dusting of pink colored her cheeks. The sight fascinated him—how many beings could claim they’d made a fierce lioness shifter blush?

They worked their way toward the foundation level, following the strongest magical disturbances. Water defied gravity, flowing upward along walls in serpentine patterns. Ancient symbols flickered briefly in the flooring—protection runes Xai recognized from texts centuries old.

“Something’s trying to break through,” he murmured, placing a hand against the wall where energy seemed to concentrate.

Zina nodded, placing her palm next to his. Their fingers nearly touched, separated by mere centimeters. “The building’s fighting back. My mother designed the foundation rituals herself.”

A sudden surge of power crackled through the wall, electric blue and dangerous. Without thinking, Xai pulled Zina against him, shielding her with his body as they pressed against the opposite wall for cover. Her back fit perfectly against his chest, her heartbeat strong and rapid beneath his protective arm.

The stone beneath their combined weight shifted, then dissolved entirely, revealing ancient stairs descending into darkness.

For a moment, neither moved. Xai became acutely aware of Zina in his arms—the softness of her skin beneath his fingers, the subtle vanilla-and-spice scent of her shampoo, the way her body fit against his as if designed specifically for that purpose. His dragon stirred possessively, scales threatening to emerge along his arms.

Zina turned within his embrace, looking up with surprise that mirrored his own. “Did you know this was here?”

“No,” he admitted, reluctantly loosening his hold though not stepping back. “You?”

“Never even suspected.” She peered down into the darkness, chewing her lower lip thoughtfully. The gesture drew his attention to her mouth, and a hunger that had nothing to do with food surged through him. “But somehow it feels...”

“Right,” he finished, recognizing the same inexplicable certainty that filled him. The hidden passage called to something primal in his nature.

How is she already anticipating my movements? Xai wondered as they descended together, his conjured flame illuminating stone steps worn smooth by centuries of use. Five centuries with Noven, and we’ve never synchronized so effortlessly.

The staircase opened into a circular chamber that appeared far older than the building above. Ancient stonework-lined walls covered in symbols that glowed faintly in the darkness. At the chamber’s center stood a triangular platform of black stone. Atop it danced three distinct flames—one gold, one purple, one red—perfectly balanced despite the chaos affecting the ley lines above.

“The Founding Pyre,” Xai breathed, recognition stirring from knowledge passed down through generations of Emberwyldes.

Ancient script lined the walls—draconic symbols his father claimed had been lost to time. Mentions of a sacred pact between three bloodlines: dragon, lion, and panther.

His dragon reacted powerfully to the chamber, scales rippling visibly beneath his skin as ancestral memories stirred. This place belonged to him somehow—not as a possession but as heritage, as duty.