then came inside and went to fix some dinner as though it were something she did every day.
Well, not quite. She’d had a shaky moment, just inside the door. Hidden from everyone outside...but Reid had gotten to see it.
That awoke something in him. A fiery, possessive voice. Just for us.
He started at the low hiss. His inner dragon almost never made itself known like that. Reid had heard other shifters talk about their animals as though it was constant chat, day-in, day-out, a voice in their head all the time. Reid’s dragon had never been like that; it stayed quiet unless he was shifted, and if he was honest...he didn’t shift too often.
But it felt like it was stirring. A movement in his chest, as though a scaled head were raising itself up.
Sage passed him by, holding some dishes in her hands. “Right back,” she said, and slipped out the door.
Reid caught her scent as she passed—nothing artificial, no perfumes or store-bought scents. Just clean and—natural, like some kind of earth mother risen straight from the forest.
He shook his head. Where had that thought come from?
Sage was back in just a few minutes, three steaming bowls held carefully in her hands, braced against her chest. Reid jumped up instantly to go take two of them from her.
“Thanks,” she said gratefully. “I thought we could eat first, and then I could take Rhiannon hers and make sure she can eat it without hurting her arm. It’s always too hot for her right away, anyway.”
“Sounds like a plan,” he said, trying to sound as normal as possible now that he was hyper-aware of the nearness of her body, the way those wisps of hair curled around her face. “Where to?”
She nodded towards the kitchen, and Reid followed her to the little table tucked into a corner, where there were already glasses of water and plates with bread on them waiting.
The bowls were full of some kind of stew, and Reid set their places while Sage put the third aside. There was an awkward moment where he waited for her to take whichever place was usually hers, but she was waiting for him to sit down first—as the guest, presumably.
That didn’t feel right. He didn’t want to be the awkward guest in her home. He wanted her to be comfortable with him, to plop down across from him like she did it every day.
But that wasn’t the situation, he reminded himself. They barely knew each other. And frankly, even if they got to know each other better, that was never going to be the situation, even if this visit went as well as it could possibly go.
“This smells delicious,” he said, when they were finally seated. “What is it?”
She shrugged. “Stew. We have it a lot. There’s not really a recipe. It’s whatever was ripe in the vegetable garden, together with whatever the men managed to hunt for us. We have plenty of herbs growing around here, and I do my best, but some days it’s better than others.”
Reid took a bite, and blinked. It wasn’t like anything he’d ever had. The flavor was wild, like he was—well, like he was tasting something that had been hunted and harvested just that day, and brought right to the table.
“You should get Lachlan out here,” he said without thinking.
“Who?” she asked, and then he had to keep going, even as he realized that it had been something of a faux pas, considering they were still technically at war.
“He owns the diner back in Oak Ridge. He loves to cook, and he’s always inventing new recipes. I’m sure the two of you would have a ton of stuff to talk about.”
Sage looked taken aback. “I don’t think—I mean, I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’ve never even been to a human restaurant. I’m sure he and I haven’t made any of the same things.”
“That’s why I think you’d have a lot to talk about,” Reid said. “And he’s a shifter too, so his restaurant isn’t a human restaurant. Definitely more shifters than humans eat there.”
She looked—wary, but thoughtful. “I definitely wish I had a better way than trial and error sometimes. I mean, whether something smells good is usually a good indication of if it’ll taste good, but not always. Everyone always eats it, even if it’s terrible, but I’m happier if it tastes good.”
“Even if you can never meet Lachlan, I’ll see if I can get you a cookbook somehow,” Reid promised. “So you’ll