Page 46 of Fired Up Love

“Your parents live in Nepal, right?” Zina recalled from their earlier conversation.

He nodded. “Dragon elders often retreat from community life as they age. They prefer contemplation to constant interaction.” His tone suggested he didn’t entirely understand or approve of this choice.

“That sounds lonely,” she observed.

“It’s their preference.” His voice held centuries of acceptance. “Our relationship has always been... formal. Respectful but distant.”

“Unlike you and your brother?”

“Draven practically raised me.” A genuine smile warmed his features. “Our parents were often absent, seeking wisdom in solitude. Draven ensured I learned not just dragon traditions but how to exist in the changing human world.”

The personal revelation touched her. She reached out impulsively, squeezing his hand. “You miss him.”

“Every day.” He turned his hand to clasp hers briefly. “But he deserves this time with his mate and children. And I needed to step into my responsibilities.”

The moment of connection lingered between them before they reluctantly separated to explore the scent options.

Zina moved through the vast selection slowly, letting instinct guide her choices for Xai’s blend. She selected smoky cedar for his strength and endurance, spiced amber that reminded her of his protective warmth, a trace of rare dragon’s blood resin that seemed to vibrate with ancient power.

Pausing at a crystalline vial, she uncapped it curiously. Bright citrus with hints of bergamot burst forth—unexpected yet somehow perfect. It captured that rare humor she’d glimpsed beneath his serious exterior. She added it to her collection.

The final element eluded her until she reached a section marked “Elemental Essences.” A deep indigo vial called to her—its scent mysterious and complex, reminiscent of mountain storms and starlight on snow. She couldn’t name it precisely but recognized it as quintessentiallyhim.

At a crystal mixing station, she combined her selections with careful precision, adjusting proportions by intuition rather than formula. The resulting scent developed complexity as the elements harmonized—powerful but not overwhelming, mysterious yet inviting.

Across the room, Xai worked with equal concentration, occasionally glancing her way as though checking his impression against her physical presence. His methodical approach spoke of his dragon nature—precise, attentive to detail.

When they finished, Master Eldin returned, examining their creations with knowing eyes that missed nothing. “Excellent choices,” he murmured. “Now, exchange and experience.”

Zina handed her blend to Xai, unexpected nervousness fluttering in her stomach. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply. She gasped as golden scales momentarily shimmered beneath the skin of his throat before fading back to human appearance.

“You’ve captured something I didn’t know could be translated,” he said softly, opening eyes that had darkened to molten gold. “How did you know to include storm essence?”

She blinked, surprised. “Storm essence? Is that what the blue vial contained? I didn’t know—I followed instinct.”

“Dragons are creatures of elemental force.” His voice roughened. “Storm energy speaks to our deepest nature.”

“Your turn.” He handed her a crystal vial with amber liquid. “This may trigger unexpected memories.”

FORTY-FIVE

Curious, she sampled his creation. Tears sprang to her eyes unbidden as the scent unfolded in layers. Somehow, impossibly, he’d incorporated the distinct note of her mother’s signature perfume—a blend of jasmine, vanilla, and something uniquelyherthat Zina hadn’t encountered since her mother’s death.

Beneath that nostalgic top note lay elements that spoke directly to her lioness—sun-warmed earth, wild herbs, and something primal that made her inner beast stretch with pleasure. The combination shouldn’t have worked but somehow created perfect harmony.

“How?” she whispered, unable to hide her emotion.

“Dragons have excellent scent memory.” His expression softened as he stepped closer. “When you spoke of your mother, I caught the ghost of her perfume in your own scent—a trace you carry with you always.”

The thoughtfulness of the gesture touched her deeply. Without thinking, she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face against his chest. His heartbeat accelerated beneath her cheek, strong and steady.

After a moment of surprise, his arms encircled her, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other pressed warmly against her spine. He radiated heat like a living furnace, comforting and protective.

“Thank you,” she murmured against the soft fabric of his shirt.

His arms tightened fractionally. “You’re welcome.”

They remained like that longer than strictly appropriate, neither willing to break the connection. When Zina finally pulled back, she found Master Eldin watching them with a knowing smile.

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