Page 87 of Impawssible Magic

“What? We’re all thinking it. I’m just saying it out loud like a normal person.”

“Normal people don’t ask about their friends’ intimate activities within thirty seconds of arriving.”

“Normal people are boring.” Zeph turns back to Leire. “Well?”

Leire’s face is red, but she’s smiling. “I’m not answering that.”

“The non-answer is an answer. Look at her blush. It was good. It was definitely good.”

“Zeph.”

“Multiple times, I’m betting. Tiger stamina. Am I right?”

“I’m going to kill you.”

“Worth it.”

Leire surveys the damage to her shop. The bay windows are shattered. Display cases lie in broken heaps. Her carefully arranged crystals are scattered across the floor, some cracked, some whole, all covered in magical residue from the battle.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Sakura offers.

“It looks like a war zone.”

“Okay, it’s exactly as bad as it looks. But we can help rebuild!”

Anouk arrives with boxes of supplies. Practical as ever, she immediately begins assessing what can be salvaged. “The structure is sound. The wards held, despite everything. Most of the crystals are still viable.” She holds one up to the light. “This one’s actually stronger than before. Interesting.”

“War crystals.” Zeph takes a swig from one of her bottles. “You should market them. ‘Survived an ancient conspiracy—now even more protective!’ I’ll design the labels. I’m excellent at labels.”

“Your brewery labels all have questionable puns on them.”

“‘Ale Be Seeing You’ is comedy gold.”

“It’s really not.”

“You have no appreciation for art.”

Torin arrives with food. The massive bear shifter fills the doorway, arms loaded with covered dishes, expression apologetic.

“I didn’t know what everyone liked, so I made several options. There’s roast chicken, vegetable casserole, bread that’s still warm, and...” He trails off, noticing everyone staring. “What?”

“You cooked all this?” Sakura’s voice is awed. “Since this morning?”

“Cooking helps me think.”

“About what?”

Torin’s gaze flickers to Sakura. Away. Too fast to be casual. “Things.”

Behind him, Rhodes appears. The lion alpha surveys the damaged shop with obvious disapproval, golden locs pulled back, expression as unimpressed as ever.

“This is a disaster zone. Shouldn’t we be conducting a formal damage assessment before allowing civilians⁠—”

“Rhodes.” My voice cuts through his lecture. “Eat something. You’ll feel better.”

“I feel fine.”

“You look constipated.”