Page 30 of Hex and Scales

Silence settled over the booth. Even Eiji looked stunned by the outburst.

Finally, Kaito cleared his throat. “Well, that’s the most I’ve heard you say in centuries.”

“Indeed.” Harry appeared with fresh drinks, his knowing smile suggesting he’d heard everything despite the privacy wards. “More words than you’ve spoken in decades.”

“Shut up,” Ren growled, but there was no heat in it. The truth of his declaration had settled something in his chest. Yes, the similarities between Sabine and Shiara were uncanny. But Sabine was blazing her own path into his heart, one unexpected moment at a time.

And his dragon had never been more certain of anything than their need to protect her, to cherish her, to keep her safe from whatever darkness gathered on their horizon.

“Back to Linus,” Kaito redirected smoothly. “He’s skilled at evasion. Every time I get close to pinning down his pattern, he slips away like smoke. It has to be magic we haven’t encountered before.”

“Or magic we haven’t seen in a very long time,” Ren murmured, pushing away darker thoughts.

Rook straightened. “I’ll put pride members on rotation near the shop and Sabine’s house.”

“My pack can cover night shifts,” Lux added. “We’ll coordinate with Kaito on tracking patterns.”

“I’ll enhance the wards around both locations,” Ren said. “But something tells me standard protections won’t be enough. Linus is playing a longer game.”

They spent another hour planning security rotations, but Ren’s thoughts kept drifting to Sabine. To the way her magic reached for his like old friends reuniting. To how perfectly she fit in his arms as if she’d always belonged there.

Let the similarities haunt him. Let the past whisper its warnings. His heart had made its choice, and this time, he wouldn’t let anything—not memories, not doubts, and certainly not Linus—take this chance at happiness from him.

Or from her.

TWENTY-FIVE

Honey-blonde waves tumbled around Sabine’s shoulders as she leaned closer to her bathroom mirror, attempting to wrangle her hair into something presentable. A familiar warmth bloomed in her chest as her phone chimed with another message from Ren.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she reached for it. Even after their wine-soaked texts last night, she still couldn’t quite believe how things had shifted between them. The screen lit up with his message:

Hope you slept well. Be careful at the archives today. I’ll bring coffee later if you’d like company while you research.

Sabine pressed the phone to her chest, unable to contain her smile. Her tigress stretched languidly beneath her skin, purring at the prospect of seeing him again. The gesture was so thoughtfully domestic—so unlike the cold, distant dragon who’d first walked into her shop.

“You’re grinning like a lovesick teenager,” she told her reflection, but couldn’t summon even an ounce of regret. She typed back:Coffee sounds perfect. Though fair warning—Romi’s been dying to interrogate you about your pastry preferences.

His response came quickly:Should I be concerned?

Only if you don’t like chocolate croissants. She’s been testing recipes.

Suddenly I’m very concerned.

Sabine laughed out loud, the sound echoing off her bathroom tiles. Who knew the mighty Ren Athran had such a playful side? But then, she’d seen so many new sides of him lately—the protective flash in his eyes when she was threatened, the gentle way his fingers lingered whenever they touched, how his stern expression softened into something tender when he looked at her...

The early morning air carried hints of frost as she stepped outside. Her boots clicked against the cobblestones, marking a steady rhythm until movement caught her eye. She stopped short.

Daisies pushed through cracks in the sidewalk, unfurling their petals in rapid succession. Not just one or two—dozens sprouted in her wake, creating an impossible trail of blooms. As she passed the town’s central garden, roses burst into flower, their heavy heads tracking her movement like miniature suns following their source of light.

“Well, that’s different.” She pulled out her phone to document the strange occurrence, but nearly dropped it when nearby tree branches swayed toward her, leaves rustling despite the still air. The hair on her arms stood up, responding to invisible currents of power.

A familiar voice called out behind her. “Fascinating reaction pattern.”

Sabine spun to find Madame Zephyrine studying the wake of blooms with keen interest. The elder witch’s silver hair caught the morning light, and her violet eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement.

“I’ve never seen anything quite like it,” Sabine admitted. “The plants seem almost...”

“Drawn to you?” Madame Zephyrine’s knowing smile made Sabine’s cheeks warm. “Magic responds to emotional resonance, dear. When the heart opens to new possibilities, sometimes the world itself celebrates.”

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