Chapter 9
NINE
S trong hands gripped her waist, steadying her as flames roared around them. Through the inferno, Sabine glimpsed Ren’s face—anguished, desperate. Dragon scales rippled across his skin as he fought to maintain control. Behind him, shadows danced like living things, and the clash of steel rang out. Her heart shattered at his expression, raw with a grief that spanned centuries.
“I won’t lose you,” he growled, but the words seemed to echo from a distant memory rather than the present moment.
The scene shifted, battlefield smoke swirling into darkness. Now Ren stood alone, head bowed over someone lying motionless in his arms. The crushing wave of loneliness and heartbreak that emanated from him stole Sabine’s breath. The mark above her navel flared with phantom pain.
She jerked awake with a gasp, tears tracking down her face. The dream clung like cobwebs, refusing to fade. Her skin tingled where dream-Ren had touched her, and the echo of his grief settled heavily in her chest. Every detail of his face remained vivid—the clench of his strong jaw, the flicker of gold in his eyes, the way his full lips had trembled with emotion.
Her fingers traced the thin red line above her navel, which thrummed with an unfamiliar sensation. The usual dull ache had transformed into something electric, almost alive. Her inner cat stirred restlessly, pushing against the confines of her human form with unprecedented urgency. He needs us.
“He doesn’t need anyone,” Sabine whispered, but the words rang hollow. Her feline nature snarled in disagreement, and she couldn’t blame her. The devastating solitude she’d sensed in her dream... no one should carry that kind of pain alone.
She pressed her palms against her eyes, trying to banish the lingering image of Ren’s face. Futile. Every time she closed her eyes lately, she saw him—those broad shoulders that made her fingers itch to explore them, that subtle dimple that appeared when he almost smiled, those eyes that pierced straight through to her soul.
“This is ridiculous,” she told her reflection in the window. “You barely know him.”
But that wasn’t quite true, was it? Something about Ren resonated within her like a half-remembered melody from childhood. The rumors about his lost mate whispered through her mind—could that explain the bone-deep sadness that haunted her dreams? She must have conjured the vision based on Eiji’s words about him losing his mate eight centuries ago.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling her. A text from Ylan lit up the screen: Got those flowers you wanted for the display. Also, don’t forget your “totally not a date” coffee meeting with tall, dark & brooding today! Should I start planning the mating ceremony now or...
“Oh my god.” Sabine flopped back onto her pillows, groaning. A second message appeared.
By the way, damn girl. Those ARMS.
Color rose in her cheeks. She’d been avoiding thoughts of Ren’s arms, how his suits emphasized his broad chest, how his powerful hands could probably lift her effortlessly?—
Stop it, she ordered herself firmly. This was supposed to be a professional meeting about magical disturbances. Nothing more.
Her tigress snorted in derision.
The pre-dawn light offered no help with her dignity. With a sigh, she swung her legs out of bed. No point trying to sleep now, not when her mind insisted on conjuring images of golden eyes and that devastating dimple.
The shop was quiet when she arrived, early sunlight streaming through the windows and painting dust motes in golden ribbons. Ylan bustled around arranging fresh flowers in crystal vases, humming what sounded suspiciously like “Here Comes the Bride.”
“Really?” Sabine hung up her coat. “It’s way too early for this.”
“It’s never too early for true love.” Ylan’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “And, honey, the way that man looked at you yesterday? That was not a ‘just business’ look. That was an ‘I want to strip you and lick whipped cream off you’ look.”
“Ylan!”
“What? Don’t give me that face. You were doing the same thing. Looking at him like he’s a big, sexy tree you want to climb.”
“Stop!”
“What? I’m just speaking truth. Besides...” Ylan gestured dramatically at the flowers she’d been arranging. The buds had suddenly awakened, petals unfurling in a cascade of vibrant color. “Your inner nature agrees with me. I’ve never seen your presence affect plants quite like this.”
Sabine gaped at the display. Her essence had always influenced plants subtly—common among shifters—but lately, that connection intensified whenever thoughts of Ren surfaced.
“I didn’t mean to?—”
“Oh, I know. Your power’s just getting a little... excited lately. Especially when a certain dragon is mentioned.” Ylan’s eyebrows danced suggestively. “Want to talk about why?”
“No.” Sabine busied herself with already-neat shelves. “There’s nothing to discuss. We’re meeting about the magical disturbances. That’s all.”
“Uh-huh. And I’m secretly a unicorn.” Ylan’s voice softened. “Sweetie, I’ve known you since you were knee-high to a grasshopper. I’ve never seen anyone affect you this way. Maybe instead of fighting it, explore why he makes your essence sing.”
“He doesn’t—” Another blossom burst forth unexpectedly. Sabine shot it a betrayed look. “That proves nothing.”
“Keep telling yourself that.” Ylan patted her shoulder. “Meanwhile, I’ll be documenting your magical courtship for posterity. Clover and Romi are already betting on when you’ll finally jump his bones.”
“Don’t you have books to shelve?”
“Nope! My job is making sure my favorite tiger doesn’t miss out on the best thing that’s ever walked into this shop on those spectacular legs of his.”