And Gust had settled on the widow’s walk railing, still radiating that particular brand of avian disapproval that made her feel like a scolded child.
“I didn’t mean to,” she told him. “It just happened.”
He turned his back to her. The bird equivalent ofsure, Jan.
Time to make coffee. And if her coffee tasted like it had been brewed in a saltwater aquarium—well, her friends didn’t come to her cottage for the beverages anyway.
ONE
CASSIA
Honey & Hex Bakery smelled like heaven and looked like chaos.
Her dark hair was escaping its bun in wisps that framed her face, and she had that soft, contented look she’d worn ever since Cal had claimed her.
Speaking of Cal. The massive bear shifter leaned against the display case beside his mate, taking up approximately half the available space in the bakery. He watched Dahlia work with an expression that probably should have been illegal this early in the morning. Utterly besotted. Completely gone.
They were leaving for Paris in a few weeks. Dahlia’s dream residency at Patisserie Lumière. Cal was going with her because, apparently, the big grumpy bear had learned that rest wasn’t weakness after all.
Cassia was happy for them. Really. Even if watching their easy affection made something twist in her chest.
Assuming you don’t destroy the town before they leave. Assuming you don’t prove everyone right about being too dangerous to function.
She shoved the thought away and pushed through the bakery door.
“You look terrible.” Junie appeared at Cassia’s elbow before the bell above the door had finished chiming. Red curls bouncing, sharp grin in place, a steaming mug in each hand. She thrust one at Cassia. “Drink this. It’s not poisoned.”
“That’s not reassuring coming from you.”
“It’s coffee, you dramatic disaster.” Junie’s grin widened, showing teeth. “Though I could make you something more interesting if you want. I’ve been experimenting with a new alertness potion. Only minor side effects so far. Leo barely noticed the third eye.”
“Pass.” Cassia took the coffee and drank deeply, not caring that it scalded her tongue. Sleep deprivation and magical exhaustion made for poor decision-making, but at least the caffeine might keep her upright. “The last time I drank something you made, I couldn’t taste salt for a week.”
“That was a feature, not a bug.”
“I ate an entire bag of pretzels and couldn’t tell they were salted.”
“Sounds like ayouproblem.”
Avine sat at their usual table in the corner, a cup of tea cooling before her. Narla was beside her, dark hair streaked with silver, her expression serene in that way that always made Cassia feel like she was being gently X-rayed. Both of them watched Cassia with expressions that made her stomach clench.
Concern. The kind of concern that precededinterventions.
“What?” Cassia dropped into an empty chair, the wood creaking under her graceless landing. “Whatever you’re about to say, just get it over with.”
“Elder Sue summoned you,” Avine said gently. Her hand found Cassia’s across the table, warm and grounding. “This morning. The Council chambers.”
“For what? Did someone finally file a formal complaint about the weather?” Cassia pulled her hand back, wrapping botharound her mug instead. “Because I have a list of witnesses who can confirm that last week’s waterspout was at least partially natural?—”
“A dragon elder arrived yesterday.” Narla’s voice was calm, as it always was. The candle witch saw too much and said too little, and right now, something flickered in her dark eyes that made Cassia’s pulse skip. “From the Continental Shifter Council. He’s here to study the mating surge, and he needs someone with weather magic to assist his research.”
“A dragon.”
“A dragon,” Junie confirmed, sliding into the seat across from her with entirely too much enthusiasm. Her mug clattered against the table. “Ancient as dirt. Storm subspecies—super rare, apparently, even for dragons. And from what I’ve heard?” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “He makes frozen tundra look warm and fuzzy by comparison. No one’s ever seen him smile. Not once.”
“Ancient as—” Cassia pinched the bridge of her nose. The headache was definitely getting worse. Pounding behind her eyes in rhythm with her heartbeat. “So Sue wants to shackle me to some insufferable lizard for research purposes. Wonderful. Exactly how I wanted to spend my time.”
“He’s not a lizard.” Dahlia appeared with a plate of pastries, setting them on the table with a soft clink of ceramic. Cal trailed behind her, silent and watchful, his dark eyes missing nothing. “Dragons are?—”
