The leather journals prove both helpful and fascinating. Marcus had meticulously documented each piece in his collection, including its providence and significance to monster-human relations.
But it’s the personal notes in the margins that catch my attention—little observations about his own marriage, about how discovering each artifact helped him understand his love for his human wife.
“Listen to this,” Aubrey says, reading one of the many journals. “‘The jade pendant represents more than just a dragon’s gift to his human mate. It symbolizes the choice to value love over immortality, to find eternity in shared moments rather than endless time.’” She pauses. “He really understood, didn’t he?”
“Yes.” My tail shifts restlessly. “Marcus was ahead of his time in many ways. He believed that love between species wasn’t just possible, but natural. That the magic binding such couples together was as old as time itself.”
“And what do you believe?”
I turn to face her, taking in the way the study’s warm lighting catches in her hair, how her eyes shine with genuine curiosity.
“I believe,” I say carefully, “that some things are worth any price.”
Her breath catches, and I worry that maybe I said too much. But then she smiles—that bright, genuine smile that first caught my attention not so long ago—before she moves to examine another shelf.
“Let’s see if we can find any notes about this one,” she says, pointing to an ornate box carved with symbols even I don’trecognize. The change of subject feels like both a relief and a loss.
We fall into an easy rhythm after that, working our way through the collection. I explain the historical significance of each piece while she takes detailed notes, her quick mind making connections I might have missed. Her presence beside me feels natural, as though we’ve been doing this together for years instead of hours.
When she laughs at my attempt to pronounce a particularly archaic demon love poem, the sound echoes through the study like music. When she passes me artifacts, her fingers brush against my scales with deliberate care. When she steps too close to an obsidian blade, my tail wraps around her waist before I can stop myself—and she lets it stay there, even after the danger has passed.
It’s domestic in a way I never expected to want. Never dared to imagine I could have.
“Oh,” she breathes suddenly, drawing my attention to a small display case near the window. “Sundar, look at this.”
Inside lies what appears to be a simple crystal pendant, unremarkable except for the way it seems to pulse with a soft golden light. As we approach, the light grows stronger, as if responding to our presence.
“It’s beautiful,” Aubrey says, reaching for the case. “What is it?”
“Wait. Let me check the journals first. Some artifacts can be temperamental.”
But when I flip through Marcus’s careful notes, what I find makes me freeze. According to the journal, this is a Resonance Stone—an incredibly rare artifact that responds only to compatible souls. They were once used in ancient binding ceremonies between monsters and humans, helping couples overcome the natural barriers between species.
The stone’s light pulses brighter, matching the rhythm of my heartbeat. Or perhaps matching Aubrey’s. I can’t tell anymore—the frequencies seem to have aligned perfectly.
“Sundar?” Aubrey’s voice is soft, curious. “Why are you looking at that stone like it just announced an upcoming apocalypse?”
I should tell her. Should explain exactly what this means, what the stone’s reaction to our combined presence suggests about our compatibility. About our future.
Instead, I find myself caught in the way the golden light plays across her features, highlighting the trust in her eyes and the slight curve of her lips. My tail shifts, drawing her closer almost of its own accord.
“It’s responding to us,” I explain carefully, watching her expression. “These stones can sense the collective mood of the individuals around it.” A half-truth, safer than the full revelation. We’ve crossed enough lines lately without adding the weight of destiny.
“Like a magical mood ring?” she asks.
“Something like that.” I guide her hand away from the case, though the stone’s light continues to pulse invitingly. Some truths can wait, I tell myself. If what the stone suggests is real, it will reveal itself naturally, in its own time.
We return to Marcus’s journals, and I’m drawn to a half-filled one that contains a carefully documented list of “Items of Interest: Unconfirmed.” Here, the scholar had recorded artifacts he’d heard whispers of but never managed to locate. My breath freezes as I read the description of one particular piece:
‘Bracelet of the Devoted: Ancient protection charm, said to have been crafted by a nymph for her human beloved. Bronze with intricate vine motifs and gold accents, contains powerful shielding magic.’
My gaze shifts to Aubrey, who’s carefully photographing a collection of preserved dragon scales. Her grandmother’s bracelet, still safely stored in my shop’s vault, bears a striking resemblance to Marcus’s description. But that would mean…
No. Too many assumptions, too soon. I need to do more research before sharing such possibilities with her. For now, I carefully memorize the description and name for later reference.
“Find something interesting?” Aubrey asks, catching my distraction.
“Just appreciating Marcus’s thoroughness,” I reply, closing the journal. “He was quite passionate about his research.”
