Chapter 23
TWENTY-THREE
T he bell chimed. Sabine’s tigress snarled as Linus stepped inside, impeccably dressed despite the early hour. His polite smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“My word.” He surveyed the destruction. “I was passing by and heard such a commotion. Are you all right, dear Sabine?”
She suppressed a shiver at the way he said her name. “Fine, thank you. Just a magical mishap.”
“You seem to attract quite a bit of trouble lately.” He moved closer, gaze lingering on her blood-stained clothes. “Such a delicate flower shouldn’t face these dangers alone.”
“I’m hardly delicate.”
“No?” His smile widened, showing too many teeth. “Still, you must allow me to help protect you. We could be... magnificent together.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Ren materialized between them, radiating protective heat. “Sabine is well looked after.”
“Ah, Ren.” Linus’s eyes glittered. “Always rushing to play hero. Tell me, how long can you truly protect her?”
The temperature in the room plummeted. Before Ren could respond, the bell chimed again as Clover and Romi burst in.
“Sabine!” Clover rushed to her side, healing magic already gathering around her hands. “Romi said something was wrong—oh goddess, you’re bleeding!”
“I’m fine, really.” Sabine tried to wave her off, but Clover was already casting diagnostic spells.
“Fine? You look like you went ten rounds with a cheese grater!” Romi knelt beside them, rifling through her bag. “I have emergency potions somewhere... aha!” She produced a violently pink vial. “Extra strength healing elixir. Fair warning, it might make you taste colors for an hour.”
“You both worry too much.” Sabine took the potion reluctantly. It tasted like birthday cake and thunderstorms.
Linus watched the exchange with cold amusement. “Such devoted friends. Though perhaps what you truly need is a stronger... masculine presence in your life.”
Romi choked on air. Clover’s healing magic flickered dangerously.
“I believe,” Ren’s voice could have frozen hell itself, “you were just leaving.”
“Of course.” Linus bowed slightly, that unsettling smile never wavering. “Rest well, dear Sabine. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”
He was true to his word.
Every day that week, Linus appeared at the shop like clockwork. Elaborate flower arrangements arrived hourly—roses black as midnight, lilies that whispered when touched, orchids that wept diamond tears. His notes grew increasingly bold:
Your beauty outshines the sun.
We share a special connection—can’t you feel it?
You’re meant for greater things than this small town.
Soon you’ll understand we’re destined to be together.
“This is getting out of hand,” Ylan declared, burning the latest bouquet. Actual flames—apparently her shifter form was some kind of fire-breathing cat. “He’s here every time I step out for coffee. Does he have the shop bugged?”
“He’s harmless,” Sabine insisted, but her tigress growled in disagreement. Something about Linus’s presence felt... wrong. Like oil on her skin that wouldn’t wash off.
The final straw came when she found him waiting outside her cottage one evening, leaning against her porch railing as if he belonged there.
“Beautiful night for a stroll,” he called, straightening. “Care to join me?”
Sabine’s heart thundered. How long had he been waiting? How did he know where she lived?
“No, thank you.” She backed away, fumbling for her phone. “I’m actually meeting someone.”
“Are you?” His smile turned knife-sharp. “Funny how you keep running to him. Almost like you remember—” He caught himself, expression smoothing. “Another time, perhaps.”
She drove straight to Ren’s mountain cabin, hands shaking on the steering wheel. The words tumbled out as she told him everything—the gifts, the notes, how Linus seemed to track her movements. With each detail, Ren’s expression darkened like storm clouds gathering.
Steam curled from his shoulders. “He was at your house?”
“I handled it.”
“That’s not—” He raked a hand through his hair, scales rippling beneath his skin. “You should have told me sooner. He’s clearly dangerous, Sabine.”
The next morning, right on schedule, Linus pushed through the shop door bearing another bouquet. But this time, Ren arrived seconds later.
Sabine barely registered the flowers hitting the floor before Ren pulled her into his arms. His kiss blazed through her like dragon fire, possessive and claiming. She knew he was putting on a show for Linus—marking his territory, making a point—but her tigress didn’t care. Their magic danced together, gold and flame twining in the air.
When they broke apart, she expected to see anger or jealousy on Linus’s face. Instead, his expression held an eerie calm. His eyes flicked between them, lips curving in a smile that chilled her blood.
“How sweet,” he murmured. “But tell me, Sabine... how long until you tire of playing the obedient mate? You’ll see things my way eventually. It’s only a matter of time.”
He strolled out, whistling tunelessly. Sabine shivered despite the lingering warmth of Ren’s kiss. “That was... creepy.”
“Hey.” Ren’s hand cupped her cheek, turning her to face him. The possessive display from moments ago melted into something softer, more vulnerable. When he kissed her again, it held none of the territorial marking from before. This was pure tenderness, an anchor in the storm.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” Ren breathed against her lips. His arms tightened around her. “I swear it.”
But as Sabine buried her face in his chest, breathing in his comforting scent of smoke and mountains, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Linus’s threat wasn’t empty. Something in his unbothered reaction suggested this was far from over.
In fact, she had a sinking feeling it was only the beginning.