Arvid #2
They worked in comfortable silence for several more minutes, the sounds of sizzling meat and chopping vegetables creating a domestic symphony that felt both foreign and oddly right.
Arvid couldn't remember the last time she'd cooked with another person, maybe her mother when Arvid was younger.
Her ex-boyfriend Hunter had been useless in the kitchen, preferring takeout to anything requiring actual effort.
But this felt different. Natural. Like something she could easily imagine doing again.
Stop, she commanded herself sharply. This is temporary.
When they finally sat down at the center island with steaming plates of food that smelled infinitely better than anything she'd eaten in months, Arvid found herself studying Calix's profile in the soft kitchen lighting.
The sharp angles of his jaw, the way his black hair fell across his forehead, the subtle gold flecks that seemed to dance in his green eyes when he was relaxed—everything about him drew her in despite her better judgment.
"Tell me about your love life," she said suddenly, surprising herself with the question.
His fork paused halfway to his mouth. "Well, I became king at nineteen when my father died in battle, then my brother died from an illness six months later. So I thought an arranged marriage was what Ashvorn needed at the time. Sarah represented stability when everything else felt like chaos."
The pain in his voice was carefully controlled but unmistakable. Arvid felt an unexpected surge of protectiveness toward this man who carried the weight of an entire territory on his shoulders.
"The arrangement made political sense, even though she wasn't my fated mate," he continued. "After losing so much so quickly, choosing something predictable felt safer than continuing to lose things unexpectedly."
"So what happened?"
"Well, days before I intended to formalize the bond and give her my mate mark," he said, his jaw tightening. "I discovered she'd been unfaithful with a council member's son. The relationship ended immediately."
The matter-of-fact way he delivered the information didn't hide the underlying hurt. Arvid wanted to reach across the island and touch his hand, offer some form of comfort to ease the old wound.
"What's a fated mate?" she asked instead, her scientific curiosity overriding her emotional response.
The question seemed to hit him like a punch. His entire body went rigid, and those green eyes became guarded.
"A fated mate is..." He paused, choosing his words with obvious care. "A dragon shifter's perfect match. The other half of their soul. It's deeper than love and more fundamental than attraction. See there's a mate bond between fated mates that makes everything more intense and more connected."
Something about his explanation sent electricity racing through her nervous system. The way he'd reacted when they first met, the strange recognition she felt whenever he was near, the overwhelming pull that seemed to draw her to him despite every logical reason to maintain distance—
No. She shut down that line of thinking immediately. You're human. It's just a coincidence.
"And the mate mark?" she pressed, though part of her wasn't sure she wanted to know.
"Something a dragon gives to their mate to complete the bond. Once marked, they're connected forever—emotionally, physically, and spiritually. Bound together in ways that can't be broken."
Forever. Bound together.
The concepts terrified her—she'd spent years avoiding any form of permanent attachment.
"That sounds..." She struggled for words that wouldn't reveal how profoundly the idea affected her. "Intense."
"It is." His gaze held hers with a piercing intensity that made breathing difficult. "Everything about the mate bond is intense."
The silence stretched, loaded with implications neither seemed willing to voice. Arvid forced herself to take another bite of food, though it might as well have been cardboard for all she could taste it.
"What about you?" Calix asked, his voice rougher than before. "Your love life?"
She laughed, though the sound came out more bitter than amused. "Non-existent for three years. My ex-boyfriend Hunter didn't handle my dishonorable discharge particularly well, so I made it easy for both of us and ended things."
"Dishonorable discharge?"
The words hit her like ice water, dragging up memories she'd spent years trying to bury without much success.
"I don't want to talk about it." The response came out sharp, her defensive walls slamming into place.
Calix studied her for a moment, and she braced herself for the inevitable pushing, the demands for explanation that powerful men seemed to consider their right. Instead, he simply nodded.
"I understand."
Those two words, delivered without judgment or pressure, nearly undid her completely. When was the last time someone had simply accepted her boundaries without demanding justification?
The realization that she was becoming far too attached to this man, to this feeling of being understood and protected, hit her like a freight train.
She'd spent three years building a life that kept her safe from exactly this kind of emotional vulnerability.
Two days with Calix, and those walls were crumbling faster than she could rebuild them.
"I'm getting tired," she said abruptly, pushing back from the island with movements that felt wooden and unnatural. "I should head to my room."
Disappointment flashed across his features so quickly she might have imagined it. "Of course. You've had a long day."
The gentleness in his voice made her chest ache with longing she couldn't afford to feel.
She needed distance, needed time to rebuild her defenses before she did something catastrophically stupid like admitting how much she wanted to stay, wanted to learn more about him, wanted him to know more about her.
"Thank you for dinner," she managed, already backing toward the kitchen entrance. "And for... everything today."
"Arvid—"
She fled before he could finish the sentence, before the concern in his voice could weaken her resolve any further.
Her feet carried her through corridors and upstairs with desperate efficiency, putting as much physical distance as possible between herself and the man who was systematically destroying every defense she'd spent years perfecting.
Only when her guest suite door closed behind her did she allow herself to breathe, leaning against the solid wood as if it could somehow protect her from the truth she was no longer able to deny.
She was falling for Calix Silvanus, and that terrified her more than any rogue dragon attack ever could.