Page 9 of Fired Up Love

“Because I’m the only one who tells you the truth about yourself,” Noven said cheerfully. “And I make excellent coffee. Speaking of which—” He nodded toward Honeycrisp Bakery as they passed. “We could stop for a quick espresso before the inspection. Artemis made those cinnamon rolls you like this morning.”

Xai checked his watch. “We don’t have time.”

“We have twelve minutes, and the spa is just around the corner.”

“Punctuality matters.”

“So does your blood sugar. You get irritable when you’re hungry.Moreirritable,” Noven amended at Xai’s glare.

“I’ll survive without pastry.”

“Your loss,” Noven shrugged. “Though they say Zina Parker has quite the sweet tooth. Something about her signature coffee being more dessert than beverage.”

Xai shot him a suspicious look. “That’s not in any file.”

“Small town,” Noven grinned. “I have my sources.”

As they turned onto Willow Lane, Purrfect Oasis Spa came into view. The renovated Victorian stood proudly on its corner lot, its fresh paint and tasteful signage making it stand out among the older establishments. Large windows caught the afternoon light while hanging plants added touches of greenery to the welcoming facade.

Xai slowed his pace, studying the building with critical eyes. The protective wards shimmered faintly around the perimeter—visible only to those with the magical sight to see them. Whoever had cast them had been both skilled and precise in their work.

“Not bad,” Noven murmured beside him. “The magical balance is well-maintained, especially considering it sits directly above that ley line junction.”

Xai nodded absently. As they approached the entrance, his draconic senses heightened, picking up on details imperceptible to most beings. Three heartbeats inside the building—two steady, one slightly accelerated. The soothing scent of eucalyptus and sage drifted from within.

But beneath it, something else caught his attention—a fragrance he couldn’t immediately identify. Something wild yet delicate, complex, and layered. He paused at the threshold, momentarily transfixed.

“Problem?” Noven asked, watching him curiously.

Xai shook his head, unwilling to explain the sudden alertness of his draconic senses. “No. Let’s proceed.”

The moment they stepped through the door, that unknown scent intensified—summer warmth, citrus, and something primally feminine that made his inner dragon surge toward consciousness with shocking force. His nostrils flared involuntarily, his pupils dilating as his body instinctively tracked the source.

Five centuries of life had never prepared him for this reaction. His heart rate accelerated and heat bloomed in his core radiating outward in a wave that threatened to manifest physically. With iron discipline, he forced his temperature to normalize, fighting the almost overwhelming urge to seek out the scent’s origin like a predator tracking prey.

No, not prey. His dragon didn’t hunger for conquest. It hungered for...

Mine.

EIGHT

The primal thought rose unbidden, shocking in its possessive clarity. Xai ruthlessly suppressed it, alarmed by his lack of control. Whatever this reaction was, he couldn’t afford to indulge it during an official council inspection.

His gaze swept the serene lobby—polished maple floors, bamboo-slatted blinds filtering the afternoon light, elegant furnishings in soothing earth tones. Everything precisely arranged to create an atmosphere of tranquility.

Then he saw her.

She stood with her back to them, arranging lavender-infused towels on a display shelf. Dark brown hair fell in casual waves to her shoulders, copper highlights catching the sunlight streaming through the windows. Though not tall—the top of her head would likely reach just below his chin—her posture radiated quiet confidence.

Time seemed to slow as she turned at the sound of their entry. Hazel eyes with golden flecks met his gaze, and Xai Emberwylde—dragon elder, council member, being of immense magical power—momentarily forgot how to breathe.

Her face, softly oval with a slightly pointed chin that hinted at stubbornness, held a blend of professional composure and wariness. A faint flush colored her cheeks—reaction to being caught off guard, perhaps, or...

No. He wouldn’t allow himself to speculate. This was Zina Parker, proprietress of Purrfect Oasis Spa. Nothing more. Despite the fact that her eyes reminded him of fire opals he’d once treasured in his hoard centuries ago—rare gems with depth and warmth hidden beneath their surface. Despite the fact that her scent made his ancient blood sing with recognition of something his conscious mind couldn’t yet name.

Despite the fact that his dragon, usually a distant consciousness during his professional interactions, now prowled dangerously close to the surface, urging him to claim what it had instantly recognized as...

Mate.

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