Page 65 of Shifting the Flame

He stood abruptly, decision made. "I want to show you something."

"Right now?" Danica raised one eyebrow, her lips curved into that challenging smile that drove him wild.

"Right now." He pulled her to her feet in one fluid motion. "I've been keeping something from you."

"If it's another dragon secret, I should warn you my surprise threshold is pretty high after this week."

Asher led her across the expansive yard, his fingers laced possessively through hers. At the far edge of his property stood a building separate from the main house—a spacious workshop with large windows, dark now under the moonlight.

"Your furniture workshop," she whispered as recognition dawned. "You're finally showing me your secret lair."

"Not many people get invited in here." He unlocked the heavy wooden door, flipping on lights that illuminated the space.

The workshop came alive under the warm glow—tools meticulously organized on pegboards, the rich scent of sawdust and varnish hanging in the air. Across the space, finished pieces stood like silent sentinels. A mahogany dining table with intricate inlay work, a walnut bookshelf with dovetailed joints, and an oak rocking chair with curved lines that seemed to flow like water.

Asher watched her face carefully, searching for her reaction. This space was more than his hobby—it was the part of himself he'd been forced to set aside when duty called. The vulnerabilityof showing it to her scraped against his alpha instincts, yet felt necessary.

"These are incredible." Danica ran her fingers along the edge of the dining table. "You made all of these?"

"Most of them before I became Alpha." His voice roughened. "Haven't had much time lately."

"How long has it been since you worked in here?"

"Too long."

Danica wandered toward his workbench where a half-finished chair sat, its frame assembled but the seat unfinished, sanding incomplete. "What about this one?"

"Started it about six months ago. Got called away for town business and never made it back in here." Asher's throat tightened as he approached the abandoned project. "Story of my life lately."

She traced the incomplete curves. "Could you teach me? Maybe we could finish it together."

Something ancient and protective surged in his chest—the desire to share this private part of himself with her, his mate. Nobody had ever asked before. Nobody had cared enough to want to be part of this side of him.

"You want to learn?" He moved behind her, his chest against her back.

"I want to understand the things that make you who you are." She leaned into him. "Besides, I've always been good with my hands."

Asher growled softly at the double meaning, nipping at her earlobe. "I've noticed."

He selected two sheets of sandpaper, handing one to her before positioning himself behind her again. Taking her hand in his much larger one, he guided her movements along the grain of the wood.

"Gentle but firm," he instructed, his breath hot against her neck. "Let the wood tell you what it needs."

They worked together in perfect rhythm, his body cradling hers as they smoothed rough edges into silken curves. The intimacy of teaching her, of sharing this passion, sparked something deeper than desire. A connection that he'd never experienced with anyone else before, a bone-deep soul connection.

"Now we apply the finish." He dipped a soft cloth into Danish oil, guiding her hand in circular motions across the wood's surface. "This brings out the natural beauty."

As they worked side by side, Asher felt a complete fundamental shift within him. This woman—this vibrant, fearless human—had waltzed into his life and naturally worked her way into his space, not just in his bed or his home, but in every corner of his existence. Even here, in his most private sanctuary.

When they finally stepped back to admire the completed chair, something clicked into place in Asher's mind. The chair had sat half-finished for months, just as he had been half-complete before Danica. Now both were whole.

"It's perfect," Danica whispered, pride evident in her voice.

Asher turned her in his arms, cupping her face with his large hands. "You're perfect. Not just for helping finish this—but for seeing parts of me that no one else bothered to look for."

Her eyes darkened. "I like all your parts, Alpha."

He leaned in and captured her perfect lips in a passionate kiss, pouring five days of revelation and years of loneliness into the connection. This woman—his woman—had broken through barriers he'd forgotten existed.

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