Page 36 of Fired Up Love

Despite everything, warmth bloomed in her chest at his invitation. “Research purposes only?”

His lips curved into a smile that transformed his serious features, revealing a glimpse of playfulness she’d rarely seen. “Of course. Though I might be persuaded to cook for you as well.”

“You cook?” Genuine surprise colored her tone.

“Bachelorhood provides ample opportunity to develop skills beyond breathing fire.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as his fingers traced a delicate path along her jawline. “Some might say I’m quite good with heat.”

A startled laugh escaped her. “Was that a cooking pun from the dignified dragon elder?”

“Perhaps.” His smile broadened, revealing perfect white teeth. “Or perhaps I’m simply pointing out that my talents extend to numerous... hot activities.”

“Now you’re just showing off.” She couldn’t help the answering smile that tugged at her lips. This lighthearted, flirtatious side of him was unexpected and utterly charming.

“Is it working?” He leaned slightly closer, his scent enveloping her.

“Maybe.” She tipped her head back to maintain eye contact, hyperaware of his proximity. “Though your cooking skills remain unproven.”

“Then allow me to demonstrate.” His thumb brushed her lower lip in a touch so brief she might have imagined it. “Seven o’clock?”

“I’ll bring Kalyna’s research notes,” she agreed, her voice slightly breathless. “You bring the wine.”

“Done.” He nodded, his expression shifting back to something more serious. “We won’t let him corner you, Zina. Whatever Severin is planning, we’ll face it together.”

After he departed, Zina returned to the damaged mural, still feeling the phantom touch of his fingers against her skin. Bryn appeared beside her, eyebrows raised comically high.

“So... not your dragon, huh?”

Zina groaned. “Weren’t you organizing inventory?”

“I was until I witnessed enough steam to power the entire spa.” Bryn grinned unrepentantly. “Dinner at his place? Should I wait up?”

“It’s research,” Zina insisted, though her cheeks warmed at the memory of his intimate touches.

“Sure.” Bryn nodded solemnly. “Research. With wine. And cooking. And probably dessert that has nothing to do with food.”

“Don’t you have work to do?”

“Going, going.” Bryn backed away, still grinning. “But wear the green wrap dress. It makes your eyes pop.”

Zina shook her head, watching as Bryn bumped into the doorframe, her bear-shifter bulk making her slightly less graceful than her animated enthusiasm suggested. The younger woman caught herself with a laugh, her honey-blonde hair bouncing with the movement.

“Bear’s breath!” Bryn exclaimed, her clan’s favorite mild curse slipping out. “Always forgetting how wide these hips are.” She patted the doorframe apologetically, a quintessentially bear gesture—treating inanimate objects with the same affable consideration she showed everyone. “Also,” she added, poking her head back through the door, “there are fresh honey cookies in the breakroom. Made them this morning during that bursa energy spurt.” Another bear trait—Bryn’s tendency to bake in energetic bursts, especially sweets with honey.

The Maxen clan’s love of honey was legendary; Grandmother Eira insisted it kept their fur glossy and their temperaments sweet.

“You bear shifters and your honey,” Zina teased, feeling some tension release from her shoulders. “Go on, before your matchmaking instincts convince you to follow us on our date.”

Bryn’s eyes twinkled. “Maxens have excellent instincts for good matches. We can smell compatibility—and you two are positively fragrant!”

Zina shook her head, unable to suppress her own smile. Despite the destruction surrounding her, despite Severin’s threats and the mystery of the Founding Pyre, a bubble of anticipation formed in her chest. Tonight with Xai, she would begin to unravel family secrets—and perhaps discover something equally important about her own heart in the process.

THIRTY-SIX

Xai’s penthouse occupied the top floor of Enchanted Falls’s tallest building, offering sweeping views of the mountains beyond. Zina stepped out of the elevator into a minimalist space of clean lines and muted colors, punctuated by surprising elements: a collection of ancient scrolls displayed in glass cases, a massive stone fireplace with no visible flue, and floor-to-ceiling windows that revealed the town spread below like a glittering map.

She’d followed Bryn’s advice about the dress, the emerald fabric complementing both her complexion and her eyes. Her lioness had approved, excited at the thought of impressing the dragon elder. Now, taking in the sophisticated space, she was glad she’d made the effort.

“I expected more... treasure,” she quipped, setting down her bag of research materials. “Isn’t that a dragon stereotype?”

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