Page 53

FIFTY-THREE

H ours later, they sat side by side on Zina’s private balcony overlooking the forested hills beyond Enchanted Falls. The spa below had been secured, damaged areas cordoned off for repairs. Tomorrow would bring preparations for whatever ritual Severin planned during the blood moon, but tonight...tonight belonged to them.

Dusk painted the sky in shades of amber and gold that complemented Zina’s eyes. She curled beside Xai on the cushioned bench, a mug of sweet coffee warming her hands. The domesticity of the moment struck him—how natural it felt to share quiet space with her after centuries of solitude.

“You never finished telling me about your brother,” she prompted, looking up at him. “Draven, right? The one whose council seat you inherited?”

Xai nodded, his arm resting comfortably around her shoulders. “He decided to travel, explore the world beyond Enchanted Falls. Said after eight centuries, he needed a change of scenery.”

“Eight centuries?” Zina’s eyebrows rose. “And I thought lion shifters lived long lives. How old are you exactly, Emberwylde?”

“Five hundred and twelve,” he admitted, watching for her reaction. Many found the age gap between dragon and other shifters disconcerting. “Give or take a decade.”

She whistled low. “That’s a lot of birthday candles.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “You said earlier that it gets lonely.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “You watch the world change while you remain. Friends age and fade. Eventually, you stop forming attachments to avoid the pain of loss.”

“And now?” she asked, the simple question laden with meaning.

Xai studied her face in the fading light, memorizing each detail—the tiny scar near her temple, the specks of gold in her irises, the fullness of her lower lip. “Now I find myself taking risks I haven’t considered in centuries.”

Her hand found his, fingers intertwining. “Good risks, I hope.”

“The best,” he murmured, bringing their joined hands to his lips.

The conversation flowed easily between them, shifting from family histories to childhood mishaps to favorite books discovered across decades. Xai found himself sharing stories he hadn’t recalled in centuries—tales of his father teaching him to fly, of his mother’s garden of fire-blooming flowers, of his first awkward century as a council member.

Zina matched his openness with her own, describing her parents’ devotion to each other, her mother’s dream of creating a healing space for all supernatural beings, her own struggles with self-doubt after their deaths.

“They would be proud of what you’ve built.”

Her smile held a hint of sadness. “I hope so. Sometimes I wonder if I’m doing this right—running the spa, protecting the nexus. I never had formal training like you council elders.”

“Yet you handled those enforcers with more skill than many trained fighters I know,” Xai pointed out. “Some knowledge lives in the blood, passed down through generations.”

Night had fallen completely while they talked, stars emerging above the forest canopy. A cool breeze rustled the trees, causing Zina to shiver slightly despite the warmth of her coffee.

Without thinking, Xai increased his body temperature, radiating gentle heat that enveloped them both in a cocoon of warmth. The action, so instinctive he barely registered doing it, drew a pleased smile from Zina.

“That’s a useful trick,” she murmured, leaning closer. “Much better than a space heater.”

“I have my uses,” he replied, his voice dropping to a rumble that vibrated between them.

Her laugh sent shivers through him that had nothing to do with the night air. “Is that so, Elder Emberwylde?”

His heart raced at the playful challenge in her tone. “Perhaps a demonstration is in order.”

Her lips curved into a smile that ignited something primal within him. “I’ve always been a hands-on learner.”

He bent to kiss her, savoring the sweet coffee taste of her lips. Unlike their earlier kiss in the chamber, this one began unhurried, a gentle exploration that gradually deepened into something more urgent. His hand found the curve of her waist, drawing her closer as her fingers threaded through his hair.

When they finally parted, both breathing heavily, Zina’s eyes had darkened to burnt amber. She traced the line of his jaw with gentle fingers, her expression open and vulnerable in a way that touched something deep within him.

“Stay tonight,” she whispered, the simple request carrying layers of meaning. “Not because of Severin or the blood moon or anything else. Just...stay with me.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” Xai answered truthfully.

Her smile bloomed like sunrise breaking over mountain peaks. She stood, holding out her hand to him in silent invitation.