Chapter 7- What, No Spices?
Sahiyra POV
“Where the hell are your spices?” I asked an hour later, my head buried in Kylen’s surprisingly organized pantry.
“Spices?” Jaxen echoed like I’d just asked for powdered unicorn horn.
I stood up slowly, staring at the neatly stacked jars. All filled with the same beige powder. “What is this?”
“Salt,” Kylen said. “That’s all we’ve got.”
I gaped. “Just salt? No rosemary? No fireleaf? No sunroot powder? No crushed infernia blossom?”
They both looked at me like I was speaking a lost language. I slammed the pantry door shut and turned to face them. “That’s it. We’re going to the edge of the forest. I’m not eating another bland ass bowl of beige disappointment.”
Kylen and Jaxen exchanged glances, the kind that usually ends with “fine, but we’re bringing weapons.”
The edge of the forest sloped up like the mountain had paused mid thought. The city thinned into broken stone pathways and wild ivy, and just beyond that was the deep, untamed green I knew better than any home.
I stepped into the wild and felt the tension bleed from my bones. The trees greeted me like old friends, and the air smelled like freedom.
Kylen and Jaxen flanked me like territorial shadows as I knelt beside a cluster of thornberries. “I can make a damn good oil with this,” I murmured, gathering a handful. “And if I find some sunleaf...”
I froze. The air shifted. Something massive was near. Not dangerous. Not feral. But strong. Footsteps crunched over the underbrush like boulders rolling downhill, and then I saw him.
He emerged from the shadows like a glacier had grown legs and a heartbeat. At least 6'7", built like a damn avalanche, skin like bronze stone, eyes like glacial blue fire, and platinum white blond hair that brushed his shoulders in wild waves. He smelled like ice and pine and something… ancient.
And he was staring at me like he’d just found the sun after a century of winter. I stood slowly, thornberries in hand, heart thudding. He tilted his head. “What are you?”
I arched a brow. “That’s a hell of a way to say hello.” He blinked, then shook his head, clearing whatever daze he was in.
“Sorry. I just… felt pulled here. I’m not from this city. I’m from the Northern Glacials. I’m here for a trade council summit but… I couldn’t sleep. Kept dreaming of this forest. This exact place. I didn’t expect… you.”
“Yeah, I get that a lot,” I muttered. Kylen stepped forward with a snarl in his voice. “Back the fuck up, bear.”
Jaxen’s posture mirrored his, growl low and dangerous. “You’re in our territory. State your name and purpose.”
I turned, sharp. “What the fuck, you two? I’m not your prisoner.”
They didn’t back off. The tension between the three males thickened like storm clouds. The bear held up his hands slowly. “Name’s Torren. Polar bear shifter. Level four dire mark. I don’t want trouble. I just… felt something. I didn’t expect to find a female here, let alone...” His eyes met mine again. “Let alone one like you.”
Something in my chest fluttered. Damn it. I turned to Kylen and Jaxen, hands on my hips. “Seriously? Growling and dick measuring? Like we’re back in the wilds? Calm. The fuck. Down.”
They looked like they wanted to argue, but my aura flared, just enough to remind them. They backed off. Torren was still watching me with reverent confusion, his massive frame somehow still and respectful.
I gave him a small smile. “Torren. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sahriya.”
His lips parted slightly. “You're real.”
I blinked. “Uh… yeah. I think so.”
Kylen groaned behind me. “Shit. He’s got it too.”
Jaxen muttered, “That makes three.”
I turned slowly. “Three what?”
Neither of them answered. But deep down, I already knew. I glanced at Kylen as Torren lingered near the edge of the forest, looking like he wasn’t sure if he should stay or bolt.
“We should invite him to supper.”
Kylen’s jaw flexed, that lion snarl twitching in his throat. “Seriously?”
I tilted my head. “He didn’t come here to fight. And he looks hungry.”
Jaxen shrugged beside him. “She's not wrong. Dude looks like he could devour a whole elk.”
Kylen growled low under his breath but finally exhaled through his nose like an irritated dragon. “Fine. But he sits on the other side of the table.”
I smirked and turned to Torren. “You coming?”
He blinked like I’d just offered him salvation. “Thank you. I'd like that.”
Back at Kylen’s place, I raided the sad excuse of a kitchen like a woman on a mission.
The pantry was still offensively bland, but I had gathered enough in the forest to fix that shit. I laid out the thornberries, sunleaf, wild onion and garlic bulbs, and crushed fireroot. Found some nuts in the cabinet and used them to make a thick oil base with a splash of water and steady grinding in a bowl.
Next came the sad, raw chicken breasts.
“Oh no, sweet birds. You deserve better,” I muttered, slicing them into strips, coating them in a breadcrumb mixture I made from dried ration crumbs, and seasoned the hell out of them. The pan sizzled as I lightly fried them to a crisp golden finish.
I mashed up potatoes, loaded them with garlic and the last of the butter from the cold box, and added green beans to a pot that I found tucked away, tossed in oil, sunleaf, and a pinch of spice.
Behind me, the men were already sitting at the table, sniffing the air like starving wolves. Literally. “Whatever she’s doing,” Jaxen groaned, “I would marry it.”
“Seconded,” Torren said, his deep voice half a growl, half reverent.
Kylen was quiet, but I saw his fingers clenching around his fork like he was barely holding back from diving headfirst into the stove.
They were trading stories while I worked, Torren explaining he was from the polar tribe in the Altherian Glacials, that he was on assignment as a trade advisor but hated politics. That he preferred the cold wilds, fishing with his clan, and the simplicity of life outside the cities.
Jaxen told him about Shadowhowl and the blood trials he'd endured to become a Level Four Dire Mark. Kylen shared a rare story about a mission in the Razorback Range, which was, apparently, the lion version of "opening up."
They were… laughing. Bonding. Getting along like old war buddies. And it made me smile.
I plated everything, walked over, and served them like the damn forest queen I was. Then got my own and sat across from them. The second their forks touched their mouths, chaos broke out.
Moaning. Groaning. Cursing. “Oh my fuck, this is....”
“Is that garlic?!”
“Gods damn it, I’m gonna cry....”
Jaxen full on dropped his head to the table and groaned like he’d just had the best orgasm of his life. “I didn’t know food could taste like this anymore.”
Torren actually licked the plate. Kylen blinked at me with pure reverence in his eyes. “You’re not a woman. You’re a goddamn miracle.”
I shrugged, biting into my own food. “You boys really need to spend more time in the woods.”
After dinner, while the men raved and licked their plates clean like wild animals, I leaned back in my chair and studied them.
Kylen’s golden brown eyes were heavy with something I couldn’t name. Jaxen’s mouth quirked in a half smile like he knew something I didn’t. And Torren… that giant of a man looked so calm, so grounded, like the world could fall apart and he’d still be standing. My heart gave a strange little flutter when his gaze lingered on me too long.
I shifted in my seat.
Something inside me was... shifting. Tightening. My body, always mine, always silent, now hummed with something fierce and unfamiliar. Heat coiled low in my belly, not painful, but insistent. I didn’t feel sick. I felt... aware.
I cleared my throat, watching the way all three men instantly stilled, attuned to me like I was their center.
“What is mating?”