Page 43 of Fired Up Love

“Classic but powerful. Elegant but with something wild underneath.” She traced the hand-stitched leather. “Like a very proper dragon in human form.”

His mouth quirked. “Should I be flattered or concerned by that assessment?”

“Definitely flattered.” She smiled, enjoying this lighter side of him. “Five hundred years. I can’t imagine. The things you must have seen.”

“Many wonders and many horrors.” His expression grew distant. “The Renaissance. The Industrial Revolution. Two world wars. The birth of flight and space travel. Humanity’s greatest achievements and darkest moments.”

“Does it ever get lonely?” The question slipped out before she could reconsider its intimacy.

His hands tightened imperceptibly on the steering wheel. “Yes,” he admitted after a pause. “Watching generations pass. Forming connections, knowing they’ll fade while you continue.”

“Is that why dragons keep to themselves?”

“Partly.” He glanced at her briefly. “We’re also territorial and stubborn. Not always the best combination for relationships.”

“My parents were different,” Zina said, surprising herself with the personal turn. “Twenty-eight years together, and they still looked at each other like newlyweds. My father used to say my mother was the sun his world revolved around.”

“They sound extraordinary.” His voice softened.

“They balanced each other. Mom’s intuition tempered Dad’s logic. His structure supported her creativity.” She swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat. “When they died on that final mission, it felt like losing both my parents and my role models for what love should be.”

“That’s a profound loss.” He was quiet for a moment. “Did you know our families crossed paths before?”

Zina turned to face him more fully. “No. When?”

“Seventy-three years ago. My mother suffered a rare draconic ailment affecting her fire production—potentially fatal for a dragon. After traditional healers failed, she sought out your grandmother, Eliana Parker.”

“Gran Ellie?” Zina straightened. “Mom always said she was the most gifted healer in the Parker line.”

“With good reason. She created a specialized herbal treatment when no one else could help. It saved my mother’s life.” His expression softened with memory. “I was there—young by dragon standards, perhaps equivalent to a human teenager. Your grandmother was formidable. She stood barely five feet tall but commanded a room full of anxious dragons without flinching.”

FORTY-THREE

Zina laughed. “That sounds like Gran. Mom inherited her backbone but not her height, thankfully.”

“The Parkers and Emberwyldes have a longer history than most realize,” Xai continued. “In the founding days of Enchanted Falls, our ancestors worked together on numerous occasions—though those records have been deliberately obscured over time.”

“By whom?”

“A question worth investigating.” His expression grew thoughtful. “Your mother never mentioned our families’ connection?”

“No.” Zina frowned. “Though she kept many things close to her heart. After she died, I found journals filled with information she never shared with me—healing techniques, town history, old alliances.”

“Dragons guard their vulnerabilities closely,” Xai said with a self-deprecating smile. “But the Emberwyldes have always respected the Parkers. Your family’s healing knowledge is unparalleled.”

The conversation flowed with unexpected ease after that revelation, weaving between personal histories and lighter topics. She discovered his secret addiction to baking competition shows, which made her laugh so hard she snorted, drawing a genuine smile from him. He admitted to occasionally flying high above mountain peaks in dragon form during thunderstorms, just to feel the electricity crackling around him.

“That sounds terrifying,” she said, imagining lightning bolts flashing around his massive draconic form.

“Invigorating,” he corrected. “Dragon scales are excellent conductors. The energy... sings through my body.”

“Show-off,” she teased, surprised by her own boldness.

“Says the woman who can drop into a perfect pounce from twenty feet up,” he countered, referring to lioness abilities.

When Zina reached to adjust the heating, their hands brushed—a seemingly innocent touch that sent literal sparks crackling between them. Neither commented, though she noticed his breathing changed slightly, becoming deeper.

Throughout the drive, she caught him stealing glances at her profile, his golden eyes lingering when he thought she wouldn’t notice. The attention made her lioness preen beneath her skin, satisfied in a way that both amused and alarmed her human side.

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