Page 20 of Sanctuary and Spices (Tales of the Ardent Veil #1)

RONHAR

T he package was lighter than I expected, but its contents had been marked “perishable” and “fragile” in bold letters. The delivery tag had my name on it—but the destination listed Barou’s boarding house, not the Wanderer’s Rest. Exactly as I’d arranged. Still, I hesitated before picking it up. If Jani suspected it came from me, she might refuse it out of sheer stubbornness. Better to let the mix-up speak for itself.

The early morning corridors of Barou’s boarding house were quiet, the hum of the station a low backdrop to my footsteps. A faint scent of spice clung to the sealed box, teasing my curiosity even though I already knew what was inside.

A crash from the communal kitchen made me quicken my steps. Pix’s unmistakable, excited voice rang out through the door.

“But if we just adjust the resonance matrix?—”

“No more adjustments!” Jani’s voice cut through, firm but patient. “Help me with these pastries instead.”

I pushed open the door with my shoulder. The scene inside hit me with a wave of warmth—flour dusted the air, the scent of something sweet baking lingered, and Jani stood at the counter, her sleeves pushed up, shaping dough with the practiced ease of someone who belonged in a kitchen.

She looked up at my entrance, and the smile that spread across her face made my markings flare faintly. “? What are you doing here?”

“Just bringing a little something.” I held up the package. “Figured I’d save some poor delivery bot the trouble.”

“Hmm.” She wiped her hands on her apron, leaving white streaks across the fabric. “Anything good?”

“No idea. Isn’t mine to open.” A partial truth.

Pix darted over, their antennae twitching with interest. “Ooh, let’s see! Maybe it’s something exciting!”

“Or dangerous,” came a dry comment from the corner. Mai and Jun were already seated at the kitchen table, sipping tea and observing the chaos with faint amusement.

“Definitely not dangerous,” Jun added, though her feathers rippled with curiosity. “Probably just some lost herbs. Happens all the time with these station systems.”

Jani gestured for me to set the package on the counter. “Let’s take a look, then.”

I placed it down, stepping back as she carefully broke the seal. Inside were bundles of fresh herbs and a few small vials of rare spices, all neatly labeled with elegant script. Jun leaned forward, her eyes narrowing.

“Wait a minute,” she said, plucking one of the vials from the box. “This is from our shop.”

Mai’s brow furrowed. “We didn’t send anything to the Rest this week.”

Jani let out a low whistle as she lifted a bundle of delicate stems, inhaling deeply. “Oh! This is amazing. Orven Thyx and fresh drelka root? These are impossible to get off-world fresh.”

My markings warmed at the appreciation lighting up her face. “Looks like fate wanted you to have it,” I said lightly.

“It does seem like a strange coincidence,” Jani mused, her fingers grazing the sealed vials. “Someone must have meant for this to end up here.”

“Maybe you have a secret admirer,” Pix suggested, eyes bright with mischief.

I shrugged, keeping my expression neutral. “Or just a mislabeled order.”

“Either way,” Mai said, “that’s some of the best stock we’ve had in cycles. You should put it to good use.”

Jani’s grin softened as she turned to me. “I guess I owe you for the delivery, then.”

“Consider it an investment in the festival menu,” I said, barely resisting the urge to glance away.

“Speaking of investments.” Barou’s scaled form filled the doorway, her imposing presence commanding attention. “You’re staying for breakfast.”

It wasn’t a request. I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off with a sharp wave of her hand.

“The pastries are almost ready,” she said, her tone brooking no argument. “Sit.”

Trapped, I sighed and pulled out a chair.

At least I’d get to see Jani enjoy the spices. Even if she never knew who had made sure they ended up in her hands.

Mai and Jun exchanged knowing looks, their feathers rippling with amusement as they sipped their tea. Pix buzzed around the kitchen, already poking at the box’s contents to see what else had been included.

Jani just smiled, her hands already shaping another piece of dough. “You might as well sit,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at me. “Barou doesn’t take no for an answer.”

I shook my head, but I couldn’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “Guess I’m staying for breakfast.”

And truthfully, I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.

Jani bit back a smile as she returned to her work. I found myself a corner that wouldn’t interfere with the morning routine while still letting me watch her move through the kitchen. The way her hands shaped the dough with careful precision. The slight furrow of concentration between her brows as she adjusted seasonings.

“More coffee?” Mai appeared at my elbow with a steaming mug.

“Thank you.” I accepted it, noting her knowing look.

The kitchen filled gradually with residents. Ven’ra claimed her usual spot, dispensing cryptic wisdom between sips of tea. Dex zipped through with messages, stealing bites of whatever Jani was baking. The familiar chaos of community wrapped around us, but I remained hyper-aware of Jani’s presence. Of how the markings along my arms brightened whenever she passed close by.

Did she feel it too? This pull between us grew stronger each day. Among my people, such a connection meant only one thing - she was my mate. But humans didn’t form bonds the same way. How could I explain what I felt? What I knew with bone-deep certainty?

“These need to cool,” Jani announced, sliding a tray of golden pastries onto the counter. “Don’t touch them yet, Pix.”

“But they smell so good!”

“Five minutes.”

She moved to the sink to wash up, brush of her arm against mine as she passed sending sparks along my skin. My markings flared bright enough to reflect in the metal counter.

“Interesting reaction,” Barou commented mildly.

I focused very hard on my coffee.

When we finally left for the café, I found myself hyper-conscious of our closeness as we walked through Havenstone Commons. The morning crowd parted around us, vendors calling greetings as we passed. But my attention stayed fixed on the woman beside me, on the way the crystal formations in the walls brightened in our wake.

“The station feels different lately,” Jani said quietly. “More... alive?”

I nodded. “The crystals respond to certain energies. Certain connections.”

“What kind of connections?”

Before I could answer, we rounded a corner into the bazaar proper. The usual morning chaos surrounded us - merchants setting up stalls, delivery crews unloading crates, early shoppers hunting the best deals. But something felt off about the energy patterns...

“Did you notice that?” Jani asked, pointing to a cluster of crystals pulsing with unusual brightness.

“Yes. The resonance frequencies are shifting.” I guided her through the crowd with a light touch at her lower back. The contact sent warmth racing through my markings.

We reached the Wanderer’s Rest just as Soryn was unlocking the front door. He took one look at my still-glowing markings and raised an eye ridge, but said nothing.

Jani and I worked together testing recipes, adjusting crystal resonances, finding the perfect balance of flavors and energies. Every accidental brush of hands sent electricity through my skin. The garden responded dramatically to our combined presence, plants reaching toward us, blooms opening out of season.

“The valthorn preserves are ready for testing,” Jani called from the kitchen. “Can you bring me some fresh mora leaves?”

I gathered the delicate purple leaves, trying to ignore how my markings brightened at her proximity as I handed them over. She added them to the mix with precise movements that made my breath catch.

“Perfect.” She held out a spoon. “Taste?”

I stared at the spoon Jani held out, but my focus drifted to her lips as she licked a stray drop of preserve from the corner of her mouth. The movement made my markings flare hot beneath my skin.

“Well?” She stepped closer, spoon still extended. “Too sweet?”

“I...” My throat went dry. The preserves sat untasted on the spoon between us.

“You haven’t even tried it yet.” She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a knowing smile.

A clatter from the front made us both jump. Jani pulled back, clearing her throat.

“Let me get that,” she said, setting down the spoon and hurrying toward the noise.

I pressed my palms against the cool metal counter, willing my markings to dim. They pulsed stubbornly bright, matching the rhythm of my heartbeat.

“Order mix-up at table three!” Pix called from the dining room.

“Coming!” Jani grabbed a fresh apron, tying it as she moved. She paused at the door. “We’ll finish the tasting later?”

The way she said it - half question, half promise - made heat spread across my shoulders. I nodded, not trusting my voice.

She disappeared into the dining room. I picked up the abandoned spoon, finally tasting the preserves. Sweet, yes, but with a complexity that spoke of careful attention to detail. Like everything else about her.

The garden crystals hummed in response to my elevated energy. I needed to get myself under control before the entire café started reacting. But with Jani so close, moving through her kitchen with such grace...

“These preserves are perfect,” I called out when she returned. My voice stayed steady. A small victory.

The last of the lunch crowd filtered out, leaving only the lingering scent of herbs and spices in the air. I wiped my hands on a cloth, watching Jani stack empty plates with practiced efficiency. My markings pulsed with warmth at the sight of her moving through the kitchen we’d come to share.

“Jani.” My voice came out rougher than intended. I cleared my throat. “Would you... join me for dinner tonight? In my quarters?”

She froze mid-stack, a slight flush creeping up her neck. Her teeth caught her bottom lip before she answered.

“I’d like that.”

From the doorway, Soryn huffed what might have been a laugh.

“I’ll need to change first,” Jani said, tucking a loose curl behind her ear.

“Of course. Come back around the evening cycle?”

She nodded, gathering her things. “Evening cycle.”

I watched her leave, markings still glowing faintly.

“Well.” Soryn’s amusement was unmistakable now. “I’ll close up early tonight.”

I ignored him, heading upstairs to my quarters above the café. The space was spare but comfortable—living area flowing into kitchen, bedroom tucked behind sliding panels. Plants lined the windows, their leaves casting shifting shadows across the floor.

First, the food. I’d planned this meal in my head a dozen times, traditional dishes from home updated with local ingredients. The complex spice blend for the root vegetables needed to steep. My hands moved through familiar motions as I combined aromatics with crystal-charged water.

Hours passed in careful preparation. The fermented grain cakes needed precise timing. The sauce for the braised greens had to reduce slowly to develop proper depth. Each dish carried memories of home, reworked through years of travel.

Would she like them? Human tastes differed from Devaali. Perhaps I should have stuck to more familiar flavors...

A knock as the light cycle dimmed interrupted my spiraling thoughts. I opened the door to find Jani in a simple dress that made my markings flare bright.

“Come in.” I stepped back, gesturing to the living area. “Would you like wine?”

“Please.” She moved through the space, taking in details. “Your plants are beautiful.”

“They like the evening light here.” I poured two glasses of crystal-aged wine. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.” She accepted the glass. “Something smells amazing.”

I led her to the small dining area where I’d laid out an array of small plates. “Traditional Devaali dishes, though I had to adapt some ingredients.”

“Tell me about them?” She settled into a chair as I began plating.

“These are fermented grain cakes with herb paste.” I placed the first dish before her. “And here, root vegetables in spiced broth.”

“The festival menu is going to be incredible,” she said, sampling a grain cake. Her eyes widened. “Oh! The textures...”

“You’re not worried about the crowds?”

She shook her head. “I thought I would be. But lately...” Her hand covered mine where it rested on the table. “Everything feels right here. With you.”

My markings blazed at her touch. She rose slightly, leaning across the table until her lips met mine.

Light bloomed between us as I pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Her fingers traced my markings, drawing patterns of fire across my skin. I groaned into her mouth.

“The food will get cold,” I managed.

“Don’t care.” She stood, drawing me up with her. “Show me your bedroom?”

I slid the panels open, backing her through. My hands found the zipper of her dress as she worked at my shirt buttons. Each newly revealed inch of skin demanded to be kissed.

Her dress pooled at her feet. I traced reverent fingers down her arms, across her stomach. My markings painted swirling light over her skin.

“Beautiful,” she breathed, hands mapping my chest. When she found a particularly sensitive marking, I shuddered.

“Do that again.”

She did, adding lips and tongue to the exploration until I was trembling. I caught her hands, needing to touch her properly.

“Let me...”

She nodded, and I laid her back on the bed. Started at her collarbones, kissing my way down. Found all the places that made her gasp and arch. Learned the taste of her skin, the sounds she made when I swirled the rosy nubs of her breasts with my tongue, stroked the softness of her hips.

I trailed kisses down her smooth skin, mapping every curve and hollow. My markings pulsed in time with her gasps, painting swirls of light across her body. Her hands tangled in my hair as I explored lower, tasting the salt of her skin.

“...” The way she said my name—soft, breathless, and edged with need—sent a surge of heat rushing through me.

I lifted my gaze to hers, and the sight stole what little air I had left. Her skin was flushed, glistening faintly, her dark eyes heavy and full of unspoken desire that made my chest ache. She was utterly captivating, breathtaking in a way that struck me to my core. Mine. The thought burned through me, fierce and undeniable.

“You’re trembling,” she whispered, her fingers brushing the side of my jaw. The touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent sparks racing down my spine.

“Because of you,” I admitted, my voice rough and unsteady. “Always you.”

I leaned in, letting my lips find the soft curve of her hip, then lower, tasting her as her breath hitched. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her body arching toward me, every movement a silent plea.

“Please...” The word escaped her in a broken gasp, her voice trembling as she reached for me.

I answered her without hesitation, letting my mouth and hands explore, memorizing every curve, every sound she made as I drove her higher. Her cries filled the space around us, soft and unbridled, each one making me want to give her more.

Her fingers found my shoulders, pulling me upward, and when her lips crashed into mine, the desperation in her kiss sent my pulse spiraling.

“I need you,” she breathed against my mouth, her voice raw and shaking.

“Jani.” Her name was a prayer. “My mate.”

The words slipped out unbidden. I froze, but she was too lost to pleasure, rocking beneath me.

The last threads of my control snapped. I claimed her mouth in a searing kiss, pouring years of loneliness and longing into the contact. She met me with equal fervor, hands roaming my back as I pressed her into the mattress.

“Show me,” she demanded between kisses. “Show me what that means.”

My markings blazed like stars as I moved to answer her challenge.