The warmth hit me first, followed by the even more potent punch of yeast. It wrapped around me like an embrace that had been long forgotten, such a stark contrast to the cutting wind outside that my muscles involuntarily slackened.
Then I saw them. Three females staring at me with identical expressions of shock. Sisters, clearly since they had the same dark hair, though worn differently, and the same wide eyes. But only one drew my gaze.
She appeared to be the eldest, wearing a simple work dress and an apron dusted with flour, with her dark hair pulled back in a practical braid, a few rebellious curls escaping to frame her face. There was flour on her cheeks, on her hands, and a smudge on her nose.
Our eyes locked, my tail went still, and my breath stopped.
I had faced death a hundred times without flinching, but this female, covered in flour, looked at me like she could see straight through the armor I'd built around myself, and something in my chest cracked.
It was only a breath before I regained control again, but it had been long enough for me to realize that everything I'd planned had just become infinitely more complicated.
Because I knew that I was staring at the woman whose name had been on the execution list. The woman I'd come to save.
The woman who was going to despise me for it.
Chapter 3
Jasmine
There was a Vandar inside my bakery.
That was the only coherent thought my brain could manage as I stared at him, my hands still buried in dough and my breath snagged in my throat.
I'd never seen a Vandar in real life before. We'd all heard the stories of the raids, the violence, the savage warriors who fought the Empire with a brutality that matched their reputation. It was rumored that they were more dangerous than someone who’d gone night-season mad. But stories were just words, and words could never have prepared me for the reality of this. Ofhim.
The warrior was massive. Easily seven feet tall, maybe more, with shoulders so broad he'd had to turn slightly to fit through my doorway. I would have sworn he was human, if not for the long tail swinging behind him that was tufted with dark fur. His skin was bronze, marked with swirling black tattoos that covered his bare chest and disappeared beneath the silver fur cloak that hugged his shoulders and hung open. The fur was the only concession he'd made to the cold or indication that he’d been outside. Only the tops of his thighs were covered, and even thenmerely with hanging straps of leather that revealed muscled legs that could have kicked through a wall. Heavy boots encased his feet, and were, by far, the most practical thing about his outfit. Aside from the curved axe strapped to his back.
But it was his eyes that snatched my breath.
They should have been as black as his tightly braided hair, his tattoos, or the scruff on his cheeks. But they weren’t. They were golden, but not the gold of sunshine. They were molten and intense, like looking into the heart of a roiling star. They locked onto mine with an intensity that made my knees wobble and my heart race.
I hated it. I hated the way my pulse jumped, the way heat flooded my face, and the fact that I couldn’t look away. That I didn’t want to.
Someone nudged me, and I realized it was Kaya. On my other side, Brielle had backed up several steps and would soon vanish through the doorway.
I snapped from my trance with a mental shake. This was ridiculous. He was just a soldier. A very large, scary, barely dressed soldier who'd invaded my bakery before dawn, but just a soldier. I was used to soldiers.
"What do you want?" My voice came out sharper than I'd intended, but I didn't regret the edge to it.
He blinked, and the heat of his gaze broke as he looked away from me. His eyes swept the bakery, taking in the cooling racks lined with fresh bread and the baskets waiting to be filled. He then crossed to the counter where we'd arranged the morning's first batch.
He picked up a rustic wheat loaf, lifting it to his nose. His eyes closed briefly as he inhaled, and the tautness in his face softened. Then those golden eyes opened and fixed on me once more, and I felt that unsettling tug again, as if gravity had shifted and he was the center.
I hated it. Hated him for making me feel off-balance in my own space. Hated myself for the way my stupid heart constricted.
“You have to buy that now," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.
He nodded, the movement slow and deliberate. But before he could speak, Kaya stepped forward, her voice bright and pleasant in a way that I knew was completely calculated.
"It's on the house," she said quickly, shooting me a warning glance. "Welcome to Lexxona."
I turned to glare at her, hoping that my sharp look would remind her that we couldn't afford to give away bread, alliance or not, but then I caught the slight tightening around her mouth that meant she was managing a situation.
Of course. These were the aliens who would be protecting us from now on. Antagonizing one would be monumentally stupid.
On the surface Kaya was an incorrigible flirt, but I knew better than anyone that beneath the giggles and sweet smiles was a woman who was constantly reading a room, always looking for the best angle.
The Vandar studied Kaya for a moment, then turned his attention to me. His tail had stopped twitching.
