Dressed in a patterned golden sundress, freshly showered, with her hair loose and wet over her shoulders, Saina was the most glorious treasure Bastian had ever seen. The early morning light made her glow, and her green eyes were more radiant than any sea glass he’d ever seen. She left the bandages off, and Bastian made himself look at her shoulder professionally.

“I think we can leave the bandage off this morning,” he said, trying not to sound as flustered as he felt. The wounds were barely puckered scabs, and the skin around them already looked healthy, with no signs of infection.

She rolled her shoulder experimentally, wincing only once in the rotation. “It’s better,” she agreed.

Then she tipped her chin up to smile at him. “I believe you’ll be my tour guide for the morning.”

Bastian shared the resort with her as if it was all his own realm, an attitude he was sure that Scarlet wouldn’t appreciate, but one she was not present to correct. They started at the top, where Scarlet’s office presided at the top of the steep slope. From there, he pointed out the cottage roofs. “Tex and Laura are staying in that one, for now. The big one with the two porches, that’s Magnolia’s. She’s one of our semi-permanent residents, you’ll love her.”

Saina made a small skeptical noise that made Bastian suspect she didn’t have many female friends.

He led her down past the spa. Wrench and Travis were there, repairing some storm damage to the spa building finish, and Bastian was happy to show her off and introduce her.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” she said, and gravely shook their gloved hands.

He took a quick walk through of the garden, and braved Graham’s wrath by picking one of the red bell-like flowers for Saina’s hair.

“There’s a greenhouse, there.” He pointed to the diamond-sparkle roof through the trees. “We grow a good portion of our own food. And the tall white house is where most of the male staff lives. The ladies’ staff house is the green one beyond.”

They walked past the utilitarian hotel building for budget guests, and Bastian pointed out his old room in the windows.

They walked down to the entrance of the restaurant, and snagged egg bagels dusted with green onions and flakes of salmon from the buffet before making their way down to the bar level. The bar was open air, as most of the resort was, tucked under the restaurant deck. The bar tables and chairs overlooked the jewel of the pool. Twin waterfalls toppled from this level, framing a grand staircase with columns down into the sapphire water.

Walking past the bar led to the event hall, where Lydia held her sunrise yoga and they hosted semi-weekly dance events. “You’ll meet Lydia next week,” Bastian told her. “She’s back home visiting family in Mexico and doing some sort of massage training.”

The pool deck had a few guests sunning themselves, and Bastian was pleased with Saina’s reaction to the pool itself. “It’s the biggest pool I’ve ever seen,” she said in awe.

“We hosted the World Mr. Shifter event just a week ago. The photographers said it was one of the most beautiful places they’d ever hosted a shoot.” Bastian was as proud of the resort as if it had been his own ancestral home.

“I can see that,” Saina agreed, appropriately impressed.

Then he could guide her down the steps to the beach itself, and if she had loved the pool, she was clearly moved by the picture-perfect white sand crescent.

“This must be where you work,” she said, standing by the lifeguard tower. At some point over the sand, she had taken his hand, and they had fingers twined together.

“Well,” Bastian said modestly, “I hardly ever use the tower. I’m usually in dragon form so I can see further, and keep an eye on the pool deck at the same time.”

Her fingers in his turned to rock. “In what form?” she asked, frozen.

“Dragon,” Bastian repeated, and he was surprised when she withdrew her hand and backed away from him, eyes wide and skin pale beneath her natural golden tone. “What is it?” He asked gently, suddenly afraid he’d done something wrong.

“You’re a dragon,” she said flatly.

“You didn’t know about dragons?” Some cultures kept their dragons secret. Perhaps India was one of those. “I assure you, we are not simply mythological.”

“I know about dragons,” she spat, and Bastian felt as if his world was tipping unexpectedly.