Page 34 of Hex and Scales (Mystic Hollow #3)
THIRTY-FOUR
D awn painted Mystic Hollow in watercolor shades of rose and gold. Sabine’s fingers trembled slightly as she unlocked the shop door, her mind still fuzzy with memories from earlier when Ren went to his cabin. Her entire body ached from the night they’d shared. The way Ren had pulled her close before he left, his lips brushing her temple as he murmured “Get some sleep. I know you’re tired.” Boy, was she. She ached in the best possible way.
He’d texted the moment he got to the cabin, each message making her pulse dance with joy.
Her phone buzzed. Speaking of dancing pulses—another text from Ren: Missing your smile already. Can’t wait to get you naked again.
Warmth crept up her neck as she typed back: Careful, dragon. People might think you’re going soft.
Only for you, little tigress.
The response made her essence stir with contentment. She’d never imagined the stoic dragon could be so sweet, so tender. These quiet moments of vulnerability he shared only with her felt more precious than any treasure.
A soft glow from the shop’s courtyard caught her attention. Her carefully arranged succulents shimmered with morning dew, though the sun hadn’t yet touched them. Crystalline formations had sprouted overnight across every plant—delicate geometric patterns in rose quartz and amethyst hues that shouldn’t be possible on desert plants. Magic whispered from her fingertips, responding to her happiness.
“Oh stars.” Sabine touched one impossibly perfect crystal formation. Her powers had been acting up lately, especially when she thought about Ren. Last week, she’d turned the shop windows to stained glass while reading his goodnight text. Yesterday, the cobblestones had shimmered like opals wherever she walked. “At least you’re not spreading outside your pots this time.”
The smallest cactus gleamed in response, a new constellation of crystals forming under her touch.
“Well, well. Dinner with the dragon must have gone very well if your plants are creating gemstones like this.”
Sabine spun to find Ylan leaning against the doorframe, coffee carrier in one hand and phone already aimed at the garden. Her assistant’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she captured the ethereal scene.
“Don’t you dare?—”
“Too late!” Ylan grinned. “This is going in the ‘Sabine’s Magic Garden’ folder. Right between the midnight roses and that time you made the entire street turn to moonstone because Ren held your hand.”
“That was one time,” Sabine protested, though she smiled remembering how autumn stone had briefly transformed, opalescent light dancing around them like the universe itself celebrated their connection.
“That smile was completely unfair,” Sabine muttered. “He has the cutest dimples, Ylan. Dimples. How is anyone supposed to maintain magical control around dragon dimples?”
The back door chimed as Romi burst in, practically vibrating with excitement. She carried a massive pastry box that filled the air with notes of butter, cinnamon, and something uniquely magical. “I brought test subjects! I mean, breakfast.”
Clover followed more sedately, though her lips twitched. “I thought witch magic is what crystallized plants.” She paused, considering. “Are you sure there’s no witch in your ancestry, Sabine?”
“Not that I’m aware,” Sabine said weakly, watching as a jade plant transformed into actual jade.
Romi set down her box and pulled out a golden-glazed pastry that sparkled with hints of magical frost. “Speaking of transformation, try this. I’m testing new recipes.” Her eyes danced. “For Ren. Since you two keep having this adorable baked goods courtship going on. You make him cookies, he brings you pie...”
“It’s not a courtship,” Sabine protested softly, even as her lips curved remembering how he’d started bringing her fresh apple pie every week. Always perfectly warm, always exactly when she needed a pick-me-up. “We’re just... sharing desserts.”
“Honey,” Ylan patted her arm, “that dragon demolished two dozen of your chocolate chunk cookies last week. Then brought you fresh apple pie the next morning. Then texted at midnight to make sure you’d tried it while it was still warm.”
“He makes the best apple pie,” Sabine sighed dreamily, then caught herself. “I mean, it’s sweet of him to?—”
“He’s smitten,” Clover declared. “Completely besotted. Rook says he caught Ren smiling at his phone seventeen times yesterday. Smiling. The dragon who never smiles.”
“Dimples and everything,” Romi stage-whispered.
Before Sabine could defend her dragon’s honor (and maybe ask exactly how many times he’d smiled), a magical alarm pierced the air. The sound vibrated through her bones, making her shifter instincts snap to attention. The crystallized cacti froze mid-transformation.
“That’s the outer ward alarm.” Clover’s voice turned sharp. “Something big just breached the boundary.”
Protective magic surged through Sabine. Her friends. Her town. Her mate. The thought of any of them in danger made her essence burn fierce and bright. “Ylan, get the people off the streets. Romi, Clover?—”
An unholy screech cut her off as a massive creature burst from the forest edge. Some twisted hybrid of boar and chimera with multiple heads writhing on its shoulders and evil leaking from its hide like oil. But worse than its appearance was the magical signature pulsing from its flesh—the same binding spells that had tried to trap her powers at the shop.
“Well,” Romi said brightly, “this is new.”
“Get back.” Sabine pushed her friends behind her, power crackling at her fingertips. “That thing’s radiating black magic.”
“We’re not leaving you.” Clover’s voice brooked no argument. “Whatever this is, we face it together.”
Romi stepped forward, hands already weaving a spell. “Time for my signature sleep enchantment! Now with extra chamomile and a hint of lavender.” Her magic sparkled as it wrapped around the beast.
The spell hit true, but instead of collapsing, the creature merely stumbled. And started... humming? The beast swayed, knocking over market stalls while crooning Romi’s lullaby in a decidedly off-key growl.
“At least it’s musical,” Clover said, already summoning vines to contain it. The plant magic wrapped around the beast’s legs, but this only prompted it to attempt what looked suspiciously like drunk yoga.
“Fascinating!” Felix appeared beside them, notebook in hand. “The magical resonance patterns suggest a completely unique hybrid classification. Also, its downward dog pose needs serious work.”