Page 46 of The Soulmate Bakery

‘Let’s test it,’ Orion said, and his smile turned a little wicked.

‘Wait, how are we going to test it?’ I asked, my thoughts just catching up to what Orion said.

Not fast enough though, because with one whistle Orion had directed a burst of flames right at me. I yelped, preparing to dodge out of the way or throw up some sort of hex back, but I didn’t need to. The flames never touched me, and when they died down I could see Orion was grinning widely.

I hated how much I liked that look on him.

‘You could have killed me!’ I shouted, more in shock than in anger.

The dragon shifter simply shrugged a shoulder. ‘Oh, come on, Reverie. Where’s your sense of fun gone?’

Who was this guy? Seriously – where had the Orion Hawthorne I’d been tortured by my entire life gone? This new person who stood in his place was not the boy I’d grown up with, or the boy I’d spent last summer mistakenly mooning over. He was someone almost entirely new. The thought left me feeling unsettled.

‘I think I lost it somewhere last summer,’ I said, just to be spiteful.

His smile dimmed, a shadow coming across his face.

There was a knock on the back door of the Treasure Trove, and I could see the outline of a figure backlit by moonlight.

‘I’ll get it,’ Orion said, stepping neatly in front of me.

Something in me – call it a witch’s intuition – told me nothing good was on the other side of that door, and I wanted to yank Orion back.

But I didn’t move, and Orion opened the door.

Behind it was a face full of soft angles, a mouth that was made for pouting and copper waves that framed eyes which were the kind of blue that belonged to the depths of the oceans. A siren’s eyes.

‘Celine,’ Orion said, surprised.

Celine stood in the doorway of the Treasure Trove. The girl who ruined my summer with Orion.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Last summer – end of July

I was going to tell Orion that I liked him.

It was a decision I came to at 12 a.m., the night before. I was wide awake in bed, and the house was quiet. I was lying on my side, looking out of my bay window, but my gaze snagged on the dragon shifter’s jacket hanging over my chair.

And it got me thinking. Silas always felt like a dream. A fantasy. Someone utterly perfect but entirely unachievable. But Orion had always been in my life, and maybe we’d both finally grown up enough to really notice one another.

And I couldn’t live not knowing if he felt the same, so I was going to find out. Unlike with Silas, I felt a sense of surety that Orion returned my feelings. He had to – I saw the way he softened around me, how he treated me differently from everyone else.

I was going to tell him after the party at Golden Shell Beach later. I’d ask him if we could take a little walk along the water’s edge, and I’d find the spot we met when the summer first began.

I expected to be nervous throughout the day, worrying about my outfit, about my words. But I felt oddly at peace. Orion and I felt like an inevitability that was finally happening.

The party was typical – a bonfire in the middle of the beach, laughter in the air, and someone had ordered pizzas to dish out. The only thing that was different was that when I entered the party, Orion caught sight of me and waved me over.

My heart was fluttering, like faerie wings in flight. I wondered if he liked that I’d come wearing his jacket, or if he found it too presumptuous. I guessed he liked it from the way his smile widened when I finally sidled up next to him, surrounded by a group of his friends.

I recognized most of them, but they only really knew me as the mayor’s daughter. Still, they were all nice enough to include me in their conversation.

‘So, Orion,’ Terry, a tall werewolf from the Star pack, started. ‘Your sister goes off on vacation, and you swap her out for another little sister?’

I bristled, indignation hot on my tongue. I wasn’t Orion’s little sister – not in any regard. But before I could say anything, he spoke up.

‘Maya’s her own person,’ Orion replied, his tone not exactly sharp, but something close to it. I felt myself warm at the sign of his protective streak. ‘She’s a really good friend of mine.’