“Indeed,” I said, taking a slow sip.The familiar taste of smoke and vanilla rolled over my tongue.“Who is she?”
“Bria Vidal,” Kylie said.
“Is she a supe?”
“Yes, black panther shifter.”
Ah, that explained the feline grace.
“Introduce me?”
“Sure thing.”
Kylie made another drink, pouring my rum into it, and brought it over to Bria.Soon after, she looked up and caught my eye.
This was it.
I stood, grabbed my drink, and walked over to her, my feet heavy like I was treading through molasses.Her scent reached me before I had a chance to speak.
The scents of the rain forest danced around me—wild rain, lush forests, and feline musk.Undeniably female.
The air vibrated with something heavy.
My dragon went still, then surged forward with a roar that shook my chest.
Mate.
The word slammed through me.Like colliding with a cliff mid-flight.I nearly dropped the glass in my hand.Time froze for a sliver as my world narrowed to her.Heat coiled beneath my skin.
No.Impossible.
When my human wife had died three decades ago, I’d buried my fire with her—the part of me capable of love.There were no second chances.
So why did every instinct in me call this woman mine?
Kylie introduced us, and Bria’s bright green eyes met mine.Wild.A little scared.She knew.She felt it too.
My composure cracked for two long heartbeats while Kylie mentioned my rum in Bria’s piña colada.Then I found my voice.“Bria,” I said evenly, “what an absolute pleasure to meet the siren behind the voice.”
I took her hand.Energy arced up my arm like lightning.When I kissed her knuckles, the taste of her skin and the warmth of her pulse hit me like fire.My dragon murmured mate again, this time softer, almost reverent.
I forced myself to focus.You’ve got a deal to land, Morand.
Bria withdrew her hand slowly, arms crossing as if she could contain whatever she was feeling.“Chilly in here, isn’t it?”
Not remotely.She was radiating heat.
“You felt it,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her lips parted, then curved faintly.“Felt what?The ship moving?”She gave a mock shrug.“You get used to it.”
“No,” I said quietly, leaning closer.“Us.”
Her gaze held mine, steady and defiant.“It’s a mistake.It’s not real.”
“Why not?”
She motioned toward the air where the last flakes still shimmered.“The snowflakes—it was a spell.Must’ve caused…whatever this is.The witch who cast it either messed up or she’s messing with me.Either way, I’m not falling for it.”
