Page 1 of Hex and Scales

ONE

Strong hands cupped her face with infinite tenderness. Golden eyes blazed into hers, filled with such longing, her heart threatened to burst. His thumb traced her bottom lip, and she caught the spicy scent of his skin, like cedar and moonlight. She reached for him, desperate to finally discover his face?—

Sabine jerked awake with a gasp, her fingers clutching empty air. Sweat dampened her honey-blonde waves, and her pulse thundered so hard, she could feel it in her throat. The phantom touch of his hands lingered on her skin, more real than any dream had a right to be.

“That’s the third time this week.” Her voice cracked in the darkness. The thin red birthmark above her navel throbbed with its familiar ache, a pain that always intensified when the dreams came.

Moonlight spilled through her window, painting silver paths across tumbled blankets. Her bedroom in the cozy cottage felt too quiet, too empty. The dreams had haunted her for years, but lately they’d grown more vivid, more urgent. Each night brought her closer to discovering his identity, only to snatch him away at the last moment.

She pressed her palms against her eyes. “Get it together, Sabine. Pining after a dream guy isn’t exactly healthy.”

Her reflection in the antique mirror didn’t offer much comfort. Dark circles shadowed her hazel eyes, and her skin looked pale in the pre-dawn light. The silver locket her father had given her gleamed at her throat, oddly warm against her skin.

“You look like something the cat dragged in,” she told her reflection. “And considering you’re technically part cat, that’s saying something.”

A quick glance at her phone showed 5:30 AM. No point trying to sleep now. Maybe she’d open the shop early, lose herself in organizing new inventory. Anything to escape the lingering ache of reaching for someone who didn’t exist.

She pulled on her favorite purple top and dark jeans, running fingers through her waves in a futile attempt at taming them. Her last relationship had ended three months ago when Brad pointed out she seemed “emotionally unavailable.” Hard to argue when she kept comparing his ordinary brown eyes to the molten gold ones that haunted her dreams.

The streets of Mystic Hollow dozed in the purple light of almost-dawn. Mist curled around her ankles like affectionate cats as she walked, breathing in the crisp morning air. Early risers were already stirring: Romi unlocking her coffee shop, Old Tom sweeping the sidewalk outside The Arcane Brewpub while his enchanted broom tried to sneak away for a dance.

“Morning, Sabine!” Romi called. “You’re out early today.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Sabine waved. “Any new shipments coming in?”

“Next week. Though you might be interested in my new love beans stock...”

Sabine groaned. “Not you too. I swear, between you and Ylan trying to fix my love life?—”

“Can’t blame us for trying, dear. Such a pretty girl shouldn’t look so lonely.”

Heat crept up Sabine’s neck as she hurried past. Her path led straight to the town’s central fountain where a stone-carved lion’s face spouted crystal-clear water. Ancient runes spiraled around its base, gleaming with faint magical energy.

The fountain’s peaceful burble drew her closer. Local legend claimed it could grant heartfelt wishes to those pure of intention. She’d always rolled her eyes at such stories, but this morning...

Her fingers closed around a coin in her pocket. The metal felt unusually warm, almost alive against her skin.

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered. “I’m really going to wish for love like some fairy tale princess?” But the hollow ache in her chest—the space that grew larger with each passing dream—urged her forward.

Water sparkled like scattered diamonds in the lamplight. She closed her eyes, clutching the coin tight enough to leave imprints on her palm.

“Please.” The word escaped on a whisper. “I wish... I wish for a love as deep as what I feel in my dreams. Something real and true and lasting. Someone who’ll look at me the way he does, even if I can never quite see his face.”

The coin left her fingers. A soft splash broke the morning silence.

Lightning shot through her body the instant the metal disappeared beneath the surface. Her birthmark flared with sudden, intense heat, sending tingles racing along every nerve ending. She stumbled back with a yelp, pressing her hand against her stomach.

“Holy cat whiskers!” She stared at the innocently bubbling fountain. “That was... different.”

Still trembling slightly from the fountain’s magical jolt, Sabine hurried toward Katz ‘n Things. The familiar scent of oldbooks, magical artifacts, and—was that cinnamon?—greeted her as she unlocked the door. Everything looked normal: shelves of curious antiques, display cases filled with enchanted trinkets, the wall of specialty toys for magical felines.

“There you are!” Ylan’s voice rang out as her assistant emerged from the back room, balancing a box of inventory and a paper bag that definitely smelled like fresh cinnamon rolls. “I had a feeling you’d be in early. And by ‘had a feeling,’ I mean Romi texted me about someone making wishes at the fountain.”

“Does anyone in this town mind their own business?” Sabine grabbed a cinnamon roll, taking a big bite to avoid further discussion.

“Nope!” Ylan’s silver-streaked dark hair escaped its messy bun as she set down her burdens. “Besides, how else would I know when to bring emergency pastries? Don’t tell me you made a wish for a tall, dark hottie again?”

“I did not!” Sabine brushed icing from her chin. “And what do you mean, ‘again’?”

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