Rux shoved the phone back in his pocket and headed for the bakery section, his cart now overflowing with supplies. At least the torte would be worth it. His mates would appreciate the effort, even if they’d sent him out here alone while they lounged around like a pair of house cats.
“Rux, one more thing.”
He closed his eyes and counted to five before opening them again...and then his eyes widened. Mrs. Channing was going to have to wait.
A man walked past the window, coffee cup in one hand, phone in the other. He had brown hair that looked soft and wavy, the way it caught the afternoon light. The man wasn’t very tall – at least not by dragon standards - maybe five and a half feet. Ruxnoted the soft middle under a cable-knit sweater and glasses that kept sliding down his nose as he tilted his head to laugh at whatever was on his screen. Just another random guy, in other words. But not this time.
Everything stopped. Not metaphorically, or in some romantic, time-slows-down bullshit way. It just stopped. Rux’s heart stuttered. His breath caught. The grocery store - the fluorescent lights, the music, Mrs. Channing’s persistent chatter about her nephew’s excellent dental hygiene - all of it dissolved into static as heat bloomed in his chest.
No, not heat...fire. A sudden and very unexpected burning brand right over his sternum…
“Oh,hell.”
Rux dropped his gaze. Through the fabric of his Henley, a warm golden light pulsed. Absolutely unmistakable. His heart stone. It hadn’t just appeared - itignitedhis whole being.
Rux had heard the stories his entire life, had listened to bonded dragons describe the same moment with awe and overwhelming joy, but nothing prepared him for the reality.
It felt like swallowing starlight, like his chest had cracked open to make room for something impossibly vast. A hundred years of searching, of watching other triads find their fourths while he and his mates learned to be content with three, of slowly accepting they might be one of the unlucky ones - all of it crystallized into one single, perfect moment.
And then the terror hit. What if he couldn’t reach him? What if his mate -his Treasure -walked away before Rux found the courage to speak?
His dragon, the beast that usually slumbered quietly in his bones, surged with a roar that rattled through every nerve ending.TREASURE.
The word wasn’t thought so much as felt. Recognized at a level deeper than consciousness, older than reason.
OURS. OURS. CLAIM HIM. PROTECT HIM. KEEP HIM. MINE. OURS. WHY ARE WE STILL STANDING HERE? GO. NOW. OURS.
“Rux? Are you quite alright? You’ve gone very red.”
Mrs. Channing’s voice pierced the haze, concerned and far too close. Rux could feel his dragon pressing against his skin, demanding release, demanding he shift right there in the middle of Harrison’s and claim what was theirs.
Which would be bad. Very bad. The kind of bad that involved council tribunals, memory wipes, and possibly being banned from grocery stores for eternity.
“Fine.” His voice came out as a growl. An actual growl, that made Mrs. Channing take a step back. “I’m fine. Just fine. Very fine. Extremely fine.”
He wasn’t fine. Rux’s hands gripped the cart handle hard enough that the metal creaked and then bent, followed by a concerning crunchingsound as the steel frame crumpled under his fingers like aluminum foil.
OURS. Look at him. PERFECT. We should tell him. Right now. Go tell him he’s ours. MOVE YOUR LEGS. What’s wrong with your legs? Why are we still talking to this human female when OUR TREASURE is RIGHT THERE?
The man outside had stopped walking. He’d lowered his phone, now peering at something in a shop window with that same soft smile. The way the sunlight caught his hair made it shine like…like…
Treasure,his dragon supplied helpfully.It shines like treasure because he IS treasure. OUR treasure. Go. GO. What are you waiting for? An engraved invitation? MOVE.
Rux’s vision sharpened, every detail suddenly, impossibly vivid. The freckles across his nose - he could count them from here, every single adorable one. The way his sweater bunched slightly at his waist. The scuff on his left shoe. The exact angleof his jawline when he smiled at whatever had caught his attention.
Their Treasure was flawless.
“I have to go.”
The words came out strangled. Rux released the mangled cart - it immediately listed to one side, one wheel spinning uselessly - and took a step toward the exit.
Mrs. Channing blinked at him. “But we were just discussing Derek’s excellent flossing routine, and I wanted to give you his number…”
“Can’t. Emergency. Important emergency. Very important.” Rux was already moving, already shoving past his cart with enough force that it rolled backward and crashed into a display of cereal boxes. “Tell Derek his teeth sound wonderful.”
“Rux, your groceries. What about the eggs?”
“Don’t need them. I don’t need anything except…” He cut himself off before he could say “our Treasure” and settled for, “…to go. Right now. Immediately. Bye.”
