Page 28 of Hex and Scales

He was true to his word.

Every day that week, Linus appeared at the shop like clockwork. Elaborate flower arrangements arrived hourly—roses black as midnight, lilies that whispered when touched, orchids that wept diamond tears. His notes grew increasingly bold:

Your beauty outshines the sun.

We share a special connection—can’t you feel it?

You’re meant for greater things than this small town.

Soon you’ll understand we’re destined to be together.

“This is getting out of hand,” Ylan declared, burning the latest bouquet. Actual flames—apparently her shifter form wassome kind of fire-breathing cat. “He’s here every time I step out for coffee. Does he have the shop bugged?”

“He’s harmless,” Sabine insisted, but her tigress growled in disagreement. Something about Linus’s presence felt... wrong. Like oil on her skin that wouldn’t wash off.

The final straw came when she found him waiting outside her cottage one evening, leaning against her porch railing as if he belonged there.

“Beautiful night for a stroll,” he called, straightening. “Care to join me?”

Sabine’s heart thundered. How long had he been waiting? How did he know where she lived?

“No, thank you.” She backed away, fumbling for her phone. “I’m actually meeting someone.”

“Are you?” His smile turned knife-sharp. “Funny how you keep running to him. Almost like you remember—” He caught himself, expression smoothing. “Another time, perhaps.”

She drove straight to Ren’s mountain cabin, hands shaking on the steering wheel. The words tumbled out as she told him everything—the gifts, the notes, how Linus seemed to track her movements. With each detail, Ren’s expression darkened like storm clouds gathering.

Steam curled from his shoulders. “He was at your house?”

“I handled it.”

“That’s not—” He raked a hand through his hair, scales rippling beneath his skin. “You should have told me sooner. He’s clearly dangerous, Sabine.”

The next morning, right on schedule, Linus pushed through the shop door bearing another bouquet. But this time, Ren arrived seconds later.

Sabine barely registered the flowers hitting the floor before Ren pulled her into his arms. His kiss blazed through her like dragon fire, possessive and claiming. She knew he was puttingon a show for Linus—marking his territory, making a point—but her tigress didn’t care. Their magic danced together, gold and flame twining in the air.

When they broke apart, she expected to see anger or jealousy on Linus’s face. Instead, his expression held an eerie calm. His eyes flicked between them, lips curving in a smile that chilled her blood.

“How sweet,” he murmured. “But tell me, Sabine... how long until you tire of playing the obedient mate? You’ll see things my way eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”

He strolled out, whistling tunelessly. Sabine shivered despite the lingering warmth of Ren’s kiss. “That was... creepy.”

“Hey.” Ren’s hand cupped her cheek, turning her to face him. The possessive display from moments ago melted into something softer, more vulnerable. When he kissed her again, it held none of the territorial marking from before. This was pure tenderness, an anchor in the storm.

“I won’t let him hurt you,” Ren breathed against her lips. His arms tightened around her. “I swear it.”

But as Sabine buried her face in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent of smoke and mountains, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Linus’s threat wasn’t empty. Something in his unbothered reaction suggested this was far from over.

In fact, she had a sinking feeling it was only the beginning.

TWENTY-FOUR

The Arcane Brewpub’s heavy oak door creaked beneath Ren’s palm. Inside, centuries-old timber and stone absorbed the evening’s last light while Harry’s enchanted lanterns cast pools of coziness across empty tables. The familiar scent of hops and aged wood usually soothed him, but tonight his dragon prowled too close to the surface at the memory of Linus outside Sabine’s cottage.

“You’re singeing the doorframe.” Harry’s dry observation cut through his thoughts. The pub owner gestured to where Ren’s fingers had left scorched impressions in the wood. “That’s spelled oak, I’ll have you know. Takes quite a temper to burn it.”

“Sorry.” Ren forced his power to cool. “I’ll fix it.”

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