Chapter 14
Tanner leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom, a mug of coffee cooling in his hand as he watched Avelunne sleep.
She was loosely sprawled on her side of the bed, limbs tangled with the sheet and blankets.
She wore her Dragons baseball shirt and a pair of gray athletic pants that were hiked up around her calves, but to his eyes, she was breathtaking.
The sight of her, safe in his nest, sent sparks of desire through him.
They’d shared the bed because it was the only one he had.
She’d asked him not to leave her, then fallen deep into dreamland. He had soon followed.
Yesterday was a blur of exhaustion. True to her word, Tinsel had ported his gear bag and a smaller duffel containing Avelunne’s few worldly possessions to his front porch fifteen minutes after they’d arrived.
He took her on a brief tour, engaged the radiant heaters disguised as rustic fireplaces, and won an argument with himself about not finding his phone to check messages.
He hoped Avelunne liked his home. With occasional help from friends, he’d built it as a retreat, a place where he could unwind and just be.
He had never brought a date, much less a lover, to his cabin.
He wanted that and more from Avelunne, but his inner thunderbird’s conviction that she was his mate meant taking it slow.
He’d seen shifter mates give into the white-hot passion too early in a relationship, then spend years or even decades learning to live with one another.
Some never did. Shifter mate magic signaled better odds, but not certainty.
Being honest with himself, he’d used duty as a shield to hide the deeper emotions that he couldn’t always name, much less explain to a potential partner.
Most law enforcers needed time away from the job to find balance.
His thunderbird nature sometimes craved and sometimes resented the solitude he’d created.
Ordinary humans might change partners as often as they wanted, but thunderbirds were wired for singular, lifelong devotion.
He had guarded his heart with the same vigilance he’d guarded the town, worried that letting someone in would compromise his judgment.
But looking at Avelunne, the undeniable truth settled in.
He had fallen for her. He couldn’t pinpoint the moment she’d eased into his heart and taken it over.
She was kind, fierce, and stronger than she believed.
He wanted to wake her, to claim her, to fly spirals in the sky.
He didn’t know when — or even if — he should tell her that his thunderbird was certain about the mate thing.
Avelunne’s family curse meant she’d never know her true mate.
If he told her what he felt, she might view it as pity, or worse, remind her of her disability.
She couldn’t feel the shifter mate magic that was currently sparkling in his peripheral vision like a drift of lightning bugs.
Their telepathy had worked when they killed Tippizoars.
It might have been wild magic of the demesne, but he doubted it.
To him, the connection had felt like filling a gap he didn’t know he had. It felt like home.
Needing something to distract him before he did something dangerous like wake her with a kiss, Tanner retreated to the kitchen.
The open-plan layout of his cabin allowed him to keep an ear out for her while he busied himself with the ritual of making coffee.
He pulled out his canister of recently roasted beans and poured enough for four or five cups of coffee into the grinder.
The almost-sweet aroma filled the kitchen, anchoring him in the ritual.
Just as he was flushing a little water through his dual-boiler espresso machine, it occurred to him that he didn’t know how Avelunne liked her coffee, or if she even drank it.
She’d said she’d been captured in 1844. Did they even drink coffee back then?
He thought they must have, though maybe only in the Middle East. While the grinder finished, he fished around in his pantry for the container of various teas he kept for guests.
He wanted to give her choices. He wanted to give her everything.
He pulled out a mug for her that had the Kotoyeesinay logo and slogan, Come For The Magic.
His everyday mug was a gag gift from Shiloh that read “What’s the Word?
Thunderbird!”, an ad slogan for an old brand of wine.
Plumbing sounds from the bathroom interrupted his thoughts.
He was glad she’d remembered where it was.
She’d been practically comatose when he’d guided her inside yesterday, and he’d had to help her peel off the tight elven boots before she’d simply toppled into the pillows. Now, she was awake, and he had news.
He looked up when Avelunne walked barefoot into the great room.
Her attention focused first on him, then on the espresso machine on the counter.
He wondered if he should have shown her how to use the well-appointed shower and large spa-style tub in the bathroom.
She was so clever at making new friends that it was easy to forget she had huge gaps in her knowledge.
Them both being passed out from exhaustion wasn’t the way he’d hoped to spend time with her in his only bed. But it was a start.
Now she leaned against the opposite counter, smiling as she watched him get the machine ready to do its job. “I see why Denise said the Sheriff’s station has the best coffee in town.”
Tanner glanced at her, taking in the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hip under the Dragons baseball shirt and jogging pants. “Coffee will be ready in four more minutes. Or tea, if you prefer.”
“Coffee, please. I once acquired a taste for Turkish-style, but I think I’d have to work up to it again.
” She turned to look out the window on the opposite wall.
Her eyes widened. Yesterday, the view included the closer evergreen treetops and the hint of a valley.
Today, everything was pure, wind-blown white. “That’s a lot of snow.”
“Yes,” agreed Tanner, “and more is coming. According to the human weather forecasters, we’re in the middle of a continent-spanning bomb cyclone.
” He tamped fresh, dark grounds firmly into his double-spout portafilter basket.
“According to Zephyr, the demesne leaked a lot of magic before it imploded and amplified the storm. We’ll probably be snowed in here for a day or two. ”
“The whole demesne is really gone? It seemed so… permanent. Maybe because we felt so powerless against it.” She frowned and looked down at her bare feet. “I should have put on the thick socks.”
“Definitely gone.” He put the warmed cups on the deck, locked the portafilter into the machine, and raised the lever.
“We don’t have all the reports yet, but Zephyr and Tinsel said it was poorly maintained.
Our forces have injuries but no deaths.” Two streams of dark liquid began to flow, one into each cup.
“Unfortunately, the assault teams couldn’t get all the pens open and time-equalized before the demesne started cannibalizing itself to stay alive.
Even with the lab records one of the teams found, we’ll never know how many prisoners were there to begin with. ”
Avelunne sighed and closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “What about the children we rescued?”
“They all got treated for Tippizoars’ nasty ‘legacy’ infestation and are being housed by a shifter family that has room to keep them together.
” Tanner closed the lever, took the white tourist mug off the deck, mixed hot water in, and handed it to her.
“We’re trying to notify clans and families if we can find them.
The boy, Danya, was the newest captive, but even so, to him, he was a captive for something like three months, but for his family, it’s been ten years.
His hometown was in a war zone, and now it’s a pile of rubble.
We’ll look for foster homes in the meantime. ”
“And my friends?” For a moment, her face revealed a flurry of emotion, but the expression smoothed away when she held the coffee cup close to her and inhaled the scent.
“Resting and recovering in Kotoyeesinay,” Tanner said, dumping out the expended coffee puck, then retrieving his own cup of liquid gold and adding hot water.
“The storm is making travel difficult. Timoki’s mate, Darataya, is coming from Australia, but she’s currently stuck in Paris.
Wiley’s clan leader rode into town on her motorcycle to see him, just ahead of the storm.
Said she felt him through the pack bond the moment he left the demesne. Now she’s snowed in with us, too.”
“The real world will seem very bewildering to some of us.” Avelunne blew across the surface of her coffee and took a tiny sip. “This is very good. It’s smooth, like black velvet.”
Pleased that she liked it, Tanner smiled as he gestured toward the small trestle table beneath the window. He’d commissioned it and the chairs from a local artisan. The tabletop had intricate marquetry, and its matching chairs were strong enough to support a polar-bear shifter.
They sat in a companionable silence, as soothing as drink in his hands.
Avelunne studied him over the rim of her mug.
The dreamy look on her face suggested her thoughts were elsewhere.
His were swirling around her, from her short blonde hair, to her delicate features and build that belied the hidden strength of her dragon.
“Are you hungry? I could make breakfast.” Tanner glanced at the wall clock and snorted with amusement. “Or lunch.”
The corner of her mouth twitched in a crooked smile. “Maybe later.”