Chapter Four
Kivani stood at the bottom of the stairs long after Dakota disappeared, his hand still tingling from where he’d touched the human's wrist. He could feel his tiger pacing, restless and pleased, rumbling approval through every fiber of his being.
Mate. The word echoed in his mind, as it had been doing for the past two weeks since Dakota first walked into his building with boxes stacked in his arms and exhaustion written across his delicate features.
Kivani had known the moment their eyes met.
The recognition had hit him like lightning, sudden and undeniable.
His tiger had surged forward, demanding acknowledgment, demanding he claim what was his.
But Dakota didn’t know. Couldn’t know. Not yet.
Kivani ran both hands through his hair and exhaled slowly, trying to calm the beast prowling under his skin.
The tiger wanted to chase, to pursue, to make Dakota understand that they belonged together.
Patience had never been his animal's strength, but this required more care than anything Kivani had ever done.
He turned back to the shop, surveying the now-organized space.
Dakota’s scent lingered everywhere, sweet and clean with an underlying hint of anxiety that made Kivani’s protective instincts flare.
He wanted to hunt down whoever had put that fear in Dakota’s voice during the phone call at dinner.
Wanted to make sure they never bothered his mate again.
Kivani shook his head and started turning off lights.
His mate. God, he still couldn’t quite believe it.
After 325 years of watching other shifters find their matches, of wondering if he’d ever experience that bone-deep certainty, here Dakota was.
Living right upstairs. Organizing taffy with those careful, precise hands.
Looking at Kivani with those huge eyes that held secrets and pain and something else, something hopeful that made Kivani’s heart ache.
The tiger growled again, softer this time. Satisfied. Dakota had helped him tonight, had come downstairs when he could have stayed safe in his apartment. Had stayed close even when the air between them crackled with tension. That meant something.
Kivani locked up the shop and climbed the stairs to his own apartment on the opposite side of the building.
His space was larger than Dakota’s, taking up the entire width of the building, but he’d kept it simple.
Comfortable furniture, minimal decoration, large windows that let in plenty of light.
His tiger preferred open spaces, room to move and breathe.
He showered quickly, letting the hot water ease the tension in his shoulders.
His mind kept drifting back to Dakota’s face when Kivani had called him cute.
The way color had flooded his features, the way he’d tucked his hair behind his ear in that nervous gesture Kivani was already learning to recognize.
Beautiful. His mate was so damn beautiful it made Kivani’s throat tight.
In bed, Kivani stared at the ceiling and listened to the building settle around him. He could hear Dakota moving around if he focused, the soft pad of footsteps, the creak of bedsprings. His tiger wanted to go to him, wanted to curl around that small body and keep him safe while he slept.
But that wasn't an option. Not when Dakota didn’t even know what Kivani was. Not when he was clearly running from something, someone, that had hurt him badly enough to make him flee to a town he’d never heard of.
Kivani would have to be patient. Would have to let Dakota come to him, build trust slowly, prove that he was safe. The revelation about shifters would come eventually, but only when Dakota was ready. Only when the foundation between them was strong enough to withstand that kind of truth.
He rolled onto his side and closed his eyes, already planning.
The farmer's market happened every Saturday morning in the town square.
Fresh produce, local honey, flowers from the greenhouse on the edge of town.
It was casual, public, the kind of thing neighbors did together without any pressure.
He could ask Dakota tomorrow. Today, technically, since it was already past four in the morning.
The tiger settled, content with having a plan. Kivani let himself drift, Dakota’s face the last thing in his mind before sleep finally claimed him.
* * * *
Kivani woke to sunlight streaming through his windows. He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and squinted at the screen. Nine thirty. Later than he usually slept, but given he’d only been asleep for maybe four hours, it made sense.
He hauled himself out of bed and went through his morning routine on autopilot. Shower, coffee, toast with the blackberry jam. His tiger was already alert, already thinking about Dakota upstairs, wondering if he was awake yet, if he’d slept at all after their encounter in the shop.
Kivani grabbed his phone and typed out a message before he could second-guess himself.
You awake?
The response came almost immediately.
Unfortunately
Kivani smiled at his phone like an idiot.
Farmer's market is today. Want to come with me? I need to pick up some fruit for a new recipe
Three dots appeared, disappeared, appeared again. Kivani held his breath. His tiger held very still, waiting.
Okay. What time?
Half-hour? Meet you downstairs
See you then
Kivani set his phone down and released the breath he’d been holding.
His tiger rumbled approval, pleased that his mate had said yes, that they’d get to spend more time together.
He finished his coffee and changed into clean jeans and a gray shirt, running a hand through his hair to tame it into something resembling order.
He was downstairs waiting when Dakota emerged from the stairwell twenty-eight minutes later.
Kivani’s breath caught. Dakota wore black skinny jeans that hugged his legs and an oversized cream sweater that hung off one shoulder, revealing the line of his collarbone.
His bleached hair was loose today, falling around his face in soft strands.
He’d done something to his eyes, made them look even bigger somehow, and his lips were slightly pink like he’d been biting them.
“Hey,” Dakota said, tucking hair behind his ear. That gesture again. Kivani wanted to reach out and do it for him, wanted to feel the silky strands between his fingers.
“Hey.” Kivani’s voice came out rough. He cleared his throat and gestured toward the door. “Ready?”
“Sure.” Dakota fell into step beside him as they walked outside. The morning air was cool but pleasant, carrying the smell of autumn leaves and wood smoke. “So what kind of fruit are you looking for?”
“Apples, definitely. Maybe pears if they look good. I want to try making a caramel apple taffy for fall.” Kivani glanced sideways at Dakota, taking in the way sunlight caught in his pale hair. “You like apples?”
“They're okay. I’m more of a berry person.” Dakota smiled, small and genuine. “Strawberries especially.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
They walked through town, passing the diner from last night and the bookstore and the antique shop that never seemed to have any customers.
Dakota looked around with interest, his eyes tracking over storefronts and side streets like he was memorizing the layout.
Kivani wondered what he saw when he looked at Crimson Hollow.
Safety? Boredom? A place to hide until he figured out his next move?
The farmer's market filled the town square, vendors set up under white tents with their goods displayed on folding tables.
The crowd was modest but steady, locals doing their weekly shopping and chatting with neighbors.
Kivani nodded at a few familiar faces as they wove through the market, Dakota close enough that their shoulders bumped occasionally.
He even saw the alpha of the local wolf pack, strolling around with his mate, Preston.
“This is cute,” Dakota said, pausing to look at a display of homemade candles. He picked one up and sniffed it, his eyes closing as he inhaled. “Oh, that’s nice. Cinnamon and orange.”
Kivani watched Dakota’s face, the peaceful expression that softened his features. His tiger wanted to buy Dakota every candle on the table, wanted to fill his apartment with things that made him look that content.
“You want it?” Kivani asked.
“What? No, I was just smelling it.” Dakota set the candle down and moved to the next table, which was covered in jars of honey in varying shades of amber. “I don’t need a candle.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Dakota looked at him, something flickering across his face that Kivani couldn’t quite read. “You don’t have to buy me things.”
“I know I don’t have to.” Kivani picked up the candle Dakota had been holding and handed the vendor a few bills before Dakota could protest. He gave the wrapped candle to Dakota, whose mouth had fallen open slightly. “I wanted to.”
“Kivani—”
“It’s a candle, Dakota. Not a marriage proposal.” He grinned at the way color flooded Dakota’s face. “Come on, I need to find those apples.”
They moved deeper into the market, Dakota clutching his candle and shooting Kivani looks that ranged from exasperated to fondness.
The produce vendor had exactly what Kivani needed, ripe honey crisp apples and golden pears that smelled sweet and ripe.
He picked through them carefully, selecting the best ones and loading them into the canvas bag he’d brought.
“You’re very particular about your fruit,” Dakota observed. He was standing close, watching Kivani’s hands as he examined each apple for bruises or soft spots.
“The fruit is the star of the candy. If it’s not good quality, the whole batch suffers.” Kivani held up an apple, turning it in the light. “This is what I’m looking for. See? Firm, no blemishes, the right color.”
“Can I try?”