Chapter 70
SEVENTY
T he casual affection warmed Zina more than the Pyre’s flame. Their relationship had evolved with breathtaking speed, yet it felt entirely natural—as if her lioness had been waiting for his dragon all along.
As they ascended from the chamber, leaving the Pyre burning brightly behind them, Zina found herself thinking of how much had changed in such a short time. She’d opened a spa to honor her mother’s memory and found herself at the center of supernatural politics, ancient magic, and unexpected love.
Exhaustion hit her properly as they reached the main floor. The adrenaline that had carried her through the night’s events finally ebbed, leaving her muscles trembling with fatigue. Without comment, Xai swept her into his arms, cradling her against his chest.
“I can walk,” she protested weakly even as she nestled closer to his warmth.
“You can,” he agreed, golden eyes soft with affection. “But you don’t have to.”
The simple statement undermined years of self-reliance. Since losing her parents, Zina had shouldered every burden alone, convinced it was the only way to honor their legacy. Now, gazing up at Xai’s face—stern features gentled by concern for her—she realized sharing the load didn’t diminish her strength. It multiplied it.
“Fine,” she conceded, allowing her head to rest against his shoulder. “But only because you’re basically a walking space heater, and I’m cold.”
His rumbling laugh vibrated against her side. “Of course. Purely practical considerations.”
Bryn and Jamie waited in the main reception area, along with what appeared to be half the supernatural population of Enchanted Falls. Word of the night’s events had spread, drawing concerned friends and curious onlookers alike.
Artemis Blu fussed over fresh-baked pastries arranged on the check-in counter, while her mate Bartek maintained a protective perimeter with several members of his tiger pride. Kalyna Foxworthy and Rust Leonid had brought books from the library—ancient texts about the Founding Pyre and its significance. Even Elder Tygra from the council stood in conversation with Willow Waters, both women looking grave but satisfied at the news of Severin’s capture.
“Quite the welcoming committee,” Zina murmured against Xai’s neck.
“News travels fast in small towns,” he replied. “Especially when half the population has enhanced hearing.”
Bryn approached, her expression softening at the sight of Zina cradled in Xai’s arms. “Council security reports Severin is secured in the holding cells,” she informed them. “Luciana’s already given a preliminary statement and agreed to formal testimony tomorrow.”
“And the spa?” Zina asked, suddenly anxious about the business ramifications of serving as a magical battlefield.
“Structurally sound,” Jamie assured her, appearing at Bryn’s side. “The foundation’s actually stronger now that the Pyre is stabilized. I’ve checked all the treatment rooms—we could have the official grand opening as early as tomorrow if you want.”
Relief washed through Zina. The practical concerns of running a business hadn’t disappeared just because she’d inherited mystical guardian duties.
“Day after tomorrow,” she decided, stifling a yawn. “Everyone deserves a rest day after saving the town.”
Noven appeared, grinning broadly as he took in Xai carrying Zina. “Well, well. I leave you alone for a few hours, and you’re already playing hero and getting the girl. Some of us put in years of wingman service with nothing to show for it.”
Xai gave his security chief a look that would have intimidated anyone else. “Is there a point to this interruption?”
“Several,” Noven replied cheerfully. “First, your penthouse is currently serving as an emergency meeting space for about twelve council elders demanding updates. Second, I’ve arranged for Ms. Parker’s apartment to be secured and warded against any lingering threats. And third—” his expression softened unexpectedly “—I’m glad you’re both all right.”
The sincerity in his usually teasing voice caught Zina by surprise. These people—most of whom she’d barely known a week ago—had rallied around her, fought for her, cared about her welfare.
“Thank you,” she said simply, the words inadequate for the emotion behind them.
The gathering gradually dispersed as dawn brightened into morning. Arrangements were made, tasks delegated, plans formed for dealing with the aftermath of Severin’s attempted coup. Through it all, Xai kept Zina close, his presence a constant anchor as the world reshaped itself around them.
Finally, when only their closest friends remained, he carried her up the stairs to her apartment above the spa. The space welcomed them with familiar comfort—her coffeemaker on the counter, books stacked beside her favorite reading chair, and the soft throw blanket her mother had knitted draped across the couch.
Xai set her down gently, but kept her within the circle of his arms. “You should rest,” he murmured, concern evident in his golden eyes.
“Stay with me?” The request slipped out before she could second-guess it. Her lioness needed him close—needed the reassurance of his presence after the night’s dangers.
His answer came not in words but in the tender press of his lips against hers. The kiss held none of the desperate heat from the ritual chamber, but something deeper—a promise, a commitment, a future unfurling before them.
When they separated, his forehead rested against hers. “I’m not going anywhere, little lioness. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever.”
“Good,” she whispered, her hands curling into his shirt. “Because I’m pretty sure we’re magically bonded for eternity now, and it would be awkward if you had other plans.”
His laugh filled the small apartment, chasing away the last shadows of fear and doubt. Whatever came next—guardian duties, council politics, rebuilding the spa—they would face it together. Dragon and lioness, bound by fire and fate.
And as Zina drifted toward sleep wrapped in Xai’s protective embrace, she silently thanked her mother for leading her to this moment—to this perfect, unexpected happiness at the heart of Enchanted Falls.