Sunday evening, Sam tried everything to get Basil to calm down. The fresh wet food was ignored, and the feather toy that usually sent Basil into zoomy mode got one contemptuous glance. Sam pulled out the red laser pointer, but even that failed to break Basil’s concentration. The cat just kept watching the street through the windows.
Sam stood beside him at the bedroom window and looked out at the quiet neighborhood. Dark houses, streetlamps, that same Range Rover parked in the same spot it had occupied for - how many days now? Three? Four?
Basil’s tail lashed.
“There’s nothing there,” Sam told the empty room.
But Basil didn’t relax. He just kept his vigil at the window like he was standing guard against something only he could sense.
Sam wondered if he should call someone. Emma, maybe. Or Pat.My cat’s acting weirdseemed like a ridiculous reason to bother anyone, but the way Basil’s ears kept swiveling, tracking something Sam couldn’t see or hear...
“You’re being dramatic,” Sam said finally, but he checked the locks on his way to bed anyway. Whatever Basil sensed out there, it had him on high alert.He’s protecting his human from a threat he can’t explain,which was cute, but from what Sam could see, it was also totally unnecessary.
Chapter Eleven
Urien
I have to get this right.Urien stood in his garden at half-past five in the morning, debating between the Cherokee Purple tomatoes and the Brandywines.
Both were at the peak of ripeness. He’d coaxed them through late frosts and an aphid invasion, and fertilized them with his own carefully balanced compost mixture.
His dragon hummed approval.Treasure will love them.
“The Brandywines,” Urien decided, selecting three of the finest specimens. Not too many - he didn’t want to overwhelm Sam. He wanted to provide just enough to show care and attention, with elements he’d grown personally from seeds.
He moved through the garden, gathering herbs he’d started from cuttings last spring. Basil - the irony wasn’t lost on him - with leaves so green they looked painted, thyme that smelled like sunshine, androsemary branches thick enough to last weeks.
The zucchinis practically glowed in the dawn light, their skins blemish-free. Urien selected two medium ones, just enough for a single person’s meals.
Our mate,his dragon, corrected.Not single. Ours.
“He doesn’t know that yet,” Urien muttered, adding rainbow chard to the basket. The stems ranged from deep magenta to brilliant gold, and to him, looked just as pretty as the flowers he’d given when Urien first introduced himself.
One of the things Urien noticed – while he was admittedly watching Sam cook through the kitchen window - was that Sam used fresh vegetables, and that when he was preparing them, he seemed to chop them carefully, implying Sam wasn’t someone who relied on frozen meals or takeaway.
Which means this gift will show I’ve paid attention to what you actuallylike and need…At least Urien hoped so.
He arranged everything in a handmade willow basket - it was something he enjoyed doing on long winter nights. The produce looked stunning, artistic. He smiled quietly as he thought,a painting of plenty.Urien’s heart stone flared.
He drove the Range Rover through empty streets – understandable when most people in town were still sleeping. Urien had already decided it was better to be early. That way, there would be fewer witnesses to his extremely questionable decision to show up at Sam’s cottage before six in the morning.
“This is romantic, not creepy,” he told his reflection in the rearview mirror. “Farmers deliver produce early all the time.”
The front garden of Sam’s cottage was wild with flowers that Sam clearly didn’t tend but looked charming anyway. Urien parked at the curb and killed the engine,looking at the basket on the passenger seat.
His dragon pushed at him.Go. Leave the offering. Show our Treasure we can provide.
“Right.” Urien grabbed the basket and stepped out into the cold morning air.
The street was silent except for birdsong. Sam’s windows were dark - of course they were, it wasn’t even six yet. Urien made sure to keep his footsteps quiet as he walked up the short path to Sam’s door, basket in hand, and heart hammering against his ribs.
He planned to leave it on the doorstep. That was the simplest way. Urien wondered if he should’ve written a note, but he didn’t have a way with words, and didn’t have a clue what to say.Thought you might enjoy these?Or,From an admirer?
His dragon growled.No notes. Actions speak louder. The quality of the vegetables will show our worth.
Urien reached the door and knelt to set the basket down gently. As he did, he noticed a curtain twitch in the front window, and he froze. Seconds later, the front door opened.
Urien stared up at him, his willow basket still clutched in both hands.
