Page 26 of Accidentally on Purr-pose

Kenia nodded and backed toward the door. "Take your time."

She disappeared into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her with a soft click.

Izei turned back to Freesia, who was shaking her head with a rueful smile. "Well, so much for keeping this private."

"Were you planning to keep it private?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"I... honestly, I hadn't thought that far ahead." She looked down at her hands. "Everything's happening so fast."

He reached for her, tilting her chin up. "Hey. We don't have to figure everything out right now. We take it one day at a time, remember?"

She nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. "One day at a time."

He stood and moved toward the bathroom, grabbing a towel from the rack and wrapping it around his waist. When he returned, Freesia was watching him with an appreciative gleam in her eyes that made his blood heat.

"Like what you see?" he asked with a slow smile.

"Very much." Her gaze traveled over his chest and shoulders with a burning intensity. "But we should probably get dressed."

He moved to the bed and leaned down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll meet you downstairs. Take your time."

"Izei?" she called as he reached the door.

"Thank you. For last night. For everything."

No thanks are necessary. We're partners now, remember?"

Her smile was radiant. "Partners."

He left her there, wrapped in sheets and morning light, and headed toward his private chambers with a lightness in his step he hadn't felt in years. For once, he felt truly hopeful about their chances—not just of surviving the threats against them, but of building something real and lasting together.

Fifteen minutes later, Izei pushed open the dining room's heavy oak doors, the familiar scent of Kenia's cooking wrapping around him like a warm embrace. His sister had outdone herself—the mahogany table groaned under the weight of fresh bread, scrambled eggs with herbs from their garden, thick-cut bacon, seasonal fruit, and what appeared to be her legendary blueberry pancakes. Steam rose from ceramic dishes arranged with the kind of care that transformed breakfast into communion.

She's trying to make everyone feel like family, he realized, warmth spreading through his chest. Just like she always does.

His gaze swept the room, automatically cataloging each person's position and demeanor—a habit so ingrained he barely noticed doing it anymore. Reth sat to the right of Izei's usual seat at the head of the table, still pale but sitting upright with the stubborn determination of a man who refused to acknowledge weakness.

Beside Reth, Aldric occupied the chair with the quiet dignity of someone accustomed to council meetings and formal dinners. The elderly advisor had dressed in one of his tailored earth-toned jackets despite the early hour, maintaining the standards of appearance he'd upheld for decades of service to the Waverly crown.

On the opposite side of the table, Kenia and Luka sat closer than strictly necessary, their shoulders nearly touching as they shared quiet conversation punctuated by soft laughter. His sister's cheeks held a faint flush, while Luka's smile suggested he was thoroughly enjoying whatever story she was telling.

Well, that's developing faster than I expected, Izei thought, his protective instincts stirring.

But as he watched Luka's genuine attention to Kenia's words—the way the jaguar leaned in when she spoke, never interrupting or trying to dominate the conversation—some of his wariness eased. Luka had spent three months protecting Freesia without asking for anything in return. That kind of character didn't simply disappear when it came to romantic interests.

Still going to keep an eye on that situation, though.

Then his attention shifted to the woman occupying the chair beside his own, and everything else faded to background noise. Freesia looked radiant despite wearing the same practical clothes that had become her uniform over the past three months. Her cargo pants were clean but showed the wear of constant use, and her black long-sleeved shirt emphasized the athletic lines of her frame while maintaining the functional edge she preferred. But it was the small leather satchel resting across her body that made his chest tighten.

Four hundred years of peace carried on one woman's shoulders, he thought, his panther stirring with protective fury. She shouldn't have to bear that alone anymore.

He'd fantasized about the day she might trust him enough to let him keep the Waverly Compact in his personal safe—the reinforced vault hidden behind his study's bookshelf that already protected the most sensitive documents related to Callel Security International's operations. But he understood why she wasn't ready for that level of trust yet. The ancient scroll represented more than a treaty; it was the last tangible connection to her family's legacy, the final symbol of their sacrifice.

Soon, he promised himself. When she realizes she can depend on me completely.

"Good morning, everyone," he said, settling into his chair at the head of the table.

Through their strengthened bond, he felt Freesia's awareness of him—a warm pulse of recognition and desire that she was trying to keep contained beneath her professional composure.