Page 9 of Hex and Scales

“Wow, contain your enthusiasm.”

This time she definitely saw his lips twitch. Progress.

They were halfway to her cottage when shadows writhed across their path. Not normal darkness—these moved with purpose, forming shapes that hurt the eyes. A wave of dizziness hit Sabine as the illusion tried to take hold.

Ren’s hand caught her elbow, steadying her. Heat bloomed where he touched her.

“Still think I shouldn’t help investigate,” she managed, fighting off the magical vertigo.

His grunt might have been agreement. Or indigestion. Hard to tell with dragons.

But he didn’t let go of her arm, even after the shadows dissipated. And if her tigress spent the rest of the walk purring smugly about tomorrow’s coffee date?

Well, that was nobody’s business but hers.

SEVEN

Warmth enveloped Sabine as she stepped into her mother’s kitchen, the space alive with familiar scents and sounds. Steam rose from her mother’s copper pots, carrying hints of rosemary, thyme, and the secret blend of spices Azella refused to share even with her children. The kitchen’s worn wooden floors creaked beneath her feet, polished smooth by decades of family gatherings.

Her grandmother stood at the ancient oak counter, silver hair gleaming in the soft light as she kneaded another batch of her famous sourdough. The movements were as familiar to Sabine as breathing—she’d spent countless hours watching those capable hands work magic both mystical and mundane.

“There’s my girl.” Ilaria’s eyes crinkled with warmth. “Come taste this stew before your cousin inhales it all.”

“I heard that!” Lane’s voice floated from the living room, followed by the sound of something expensive nearly toppling over.

“Careful with Mom’s crystal!” Sabine called back. “Some of us want to inherit nice things.”

“You wound me, cousin.” Lane appeared in the doorway, clutching his chest dramatically. His dark blonde hair stuck upin all directions, shirt wrinkled as if he’d shifted recently. “I’ll have you know I’m the very soul of grace.”

A crash from behind him made them all wince.

“That wasn’t me!” He paused. “Probably.”

Azella laughed, the sound as rich as the stew bubbling on her stovetop. “Lane, either help set the table or go make sure your cousin Rook hasn’t gotten lost on his way over.”

“Big brother’s probably just running late because of his meeting.” Sabine stirred the stew, breathing in the complex layers of herbs and spices. “You know how he gets with pride business.”

As if summoned by her words, Rook’s commanding presence filled the doorway. Despite his imposing height and the power radiating from him, his expression softened as Clover slipped past him into the kitchen.

“Sorry, we’re late.” He pressed a kiss to their mother’s cheek. “Had a meeting with Lux and Ren about the magical disturbances.”

The wooden spoon clattered against the pot as Sabine’s hand jerked. Her tigress, which had been contentedly dozing in the warm kitchen, snapped to full attention at Ren’s name.

“Oh?” She tried for casual interest, but the knowing looks from her family suggested she’d failed miserably. “What kind of disturbances?”

Lane’s grin turned wicked. “Suddenly very interested in town security, are we?”

“Shut up.” She flicked a dish towel at him. “I own a magical shop. These things affect my business.”

“Mm-hmm.” Clover’s eyes danced as she helped Azella with the bread. “Nothing to do with tall, dark, and draconic?”

Heat crept up Sabine’s neck. “Can we focus on the actual problems? Like the weird shadows and failing wards?”

“Ren certainly seems focused on problems near your shop.” Lane dodged another snap of the towel. “What is this, his fourth visit this week?”

“Third,” Sabine muttered, then wanted to kick herself as everyone’s grins widened.

“Ren wants all major incidents reported directly to him and nobody else like that weird Linus,” Rook said, accepting a taste of stew from their mother. “Especially anything unusual around the town center.”

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