Chapter Three: Carys

"Liselle. Is everything all right?" A tall, broad-shouldered man appeared from behind the bar and strode toward Liselle.

"Yes, Flint." Liselle's brow furrowed. "Why shouldn't it be?"

"Because you're here," Flint replied. His eyes flicked over to Carys, but it seemed to take an enormous amount of effort to drag them away from Liselle. "I thought we were meeting at Elsbeth's house."

"Everything's fine, darling, don't worry." Liselle laughed lightly. "We were just… Are you all right?"

"I'm…" Flint paused and rubbed the back of his neck as he looked at Carys with an odd expression on his face.

Charming. There was nothing like being stared at…

Talking of staring… Carys's eyes were drawn to the person standing behind Flint, as if frozen to the spot, his gaze fixed on her.

There was something about him.

She swallowed hard as their eyes locked, and there was an instant attraction. No, it was more than that. It was an instant connection.

It was as if all her dreams had come true. As if all the wish stones she had thrown into the ocean here in Wishing Moon Bay had finally materialized, and somehow had taken the shape of a man. A tall man with sharp features and clothes to match, that hugged his lithe and muscled form. A man who she didn't know she wanted, but had the creeping realization that she could not live without.

Carys found herself unable to look away from the man's commanding gaze, which seemed to hold a depth of emotion that she couldn't quite decipher. His dark hair fell in tousled waves, as if he had just stepped in from a windswept clifftop.

Like a brooding hero from one of her aunt's romance novels she had secretly read on late nights when she couldn't sleep on past visits.

But this man before her was not fictional. He was made of flesh and blood, and the way he looked at her made Carys feel more alive than she had in years. No, more alive than she ever had.

As if he had awoken a part of her that had been dormant, waiting for this moment. For this meeting.

As if in a trance, Carys found herself moving toward him, drawn by an invisible force that she couldn't resist. The chatter and bustle of the bar faded into the background, and all she could focus on was the man before her.

Until she became aware that everyone in the tavern was staring at them.

"Oh, my goodness!" Liselle was the first to react. "Is what I think is happening, actually happening?"

A blush rose in Carys's cheeks as she realized the entire tavern had fallen silent, all eyes fixed on her and the mysterious stranger. She swallowed again, her mouth dry, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of their collective gaze.

The man took a step toward her, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm Varn," he said, his voice deep and rich, sending a shiver down her spine. "And you are...?"

"Carys," she managed to whisper, unusually shy under his gaze. "I'm Carys."

Varn smiled then, a smile filled with intense relief. "I found you at last."

"Erm…" Morwenna cleared her throat. " You found her?"

Varn blinked, tearing his gaze away from Carys as if the spell between them had been dampened for a moment. "What do you mean? Of course, I have. That's her, I know it."

"Yes, I know that's her ," Morwenna rolled her eyes. "I'm just saying, remember what we just talked about?"

"It was…fate."

"It was The Lonely Tavern!" Burt said as he raised his mug of beer to his lips. "It strikes again."

"The Lonely Tavern?" Carys tilted her head, still slightly dazed by the sudden and intense connection she felt with Varn. "The Lonely Tavern strikes again? What do you mean?"

Burt chuckled as he set his mug down on the bar. "This place has a way of bringing people together. It has its way, working its magic on unsuspecting souls."

"Varn wasn't unsuspecting," Stan reminded his friend. "We told him this would happen."

Carys shook her head almost imperceptibly as she attempted to process Burt's words. The Lonely Tavern, bringing people together? Working its magic?

Is this what the rumors she had heard about his place were talking about? Could a building be responsible for true love blossoming between two people?

True love. Was that what this was?

Of course it was. Varn was a dragon shifter. She could taste the metallic tang on her tongue.

"Wait. You told him this would happen?" Carys asked. She looked around at Liselle and Flint, and the other people in the tavern. "And I am the only one who is surprised by that?"

They both looked at each other and shrugged with innocent smiles.

"Apparently, the tavern has a reputation." Varn ventured to step closer, cautiously, as if she might run if he moved too fast.

Her breath caught in her throat as Varn drew nearer. His presence was altogether unsettling.

In a good way.

She found herself leaning toward him, as if pulled by an invisible thread.

This must be the mating bond she had heard about between shifters and their fated mate.

"A reputation?" she managed to ask, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Stan said excitedly. "For bringing together those who are meant to find each other."

Harry nodded eagerly. "As if guided by the hands of fate itself."

"And you all believe this?" Carys asked as she looked up at Varn.

"It's hard to deny what you feel in your heart." Varn placed his hand over his own heart. "And I know you feel it, too."

As if some unseen force was controlling her, Carys raised her hand and covered her heart, mirroring his action. "I do."

"Well, I think this calls for drinks… on the house , don't you, Morwenna?" Stan asked hopefully.

Morwenna snorted, arching an eyebrow at Stan. "Don't push your luck."

"Come on, Morwenna," Flint urged.

"Yes, where is your Christmas spirit?" Harry asked.

"In the fridge with the Yeti. Frozen and untouched, just like my new festive tray bake. Eggnog with pickle frosting," Morwenna replied, but she was already reaching for tankards.

"Oh no," Liselle wrinkled her nose. "Why don't we break open a bottle of the new Yuletide gin I brought over yesterday?"

Burt's eyes lit up at Liselle's suggestion. "Now there's an idea. The perfect way to toast our newly found lovebirds."

"A special occasion calls for a special drink," Flint agreed. "And you could look at it as not a drink on the house, but a way to test Liselle's new brew on your most regular clientele."

"I suppose there should be some taste testing," Morwenna conceded as she reached under the bar and pulled out the bottle of Yuletide gin. Its label shimmered like frost in the morning light, and the liquid within swirled like a blizzard.

As the witch busied herself pouring generous measures of the fragrant, spiced spirit into glasses, Carys found her gaze drawn back to Varn. He met her eyes, a soft smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and she felt that tug again, that inexplicable pull toward Varn that she couldn't resist even if she wanted to.

And she didn't want to.

Every fiber of her being yearned to be closer to him, to explore this profound connection that had ignited between them the moment their eyes met.

As Morwenna passed around glasses of the shimmering Yuletide gin, Varn reached out and took two, handing one to Carys. Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity through her veins. She shivered, not from the cold, but from the sheer intensity of Varn's fiery touch. His fingers lingered on hers for a moment longer than necessary before he released her hand, leaving her skin tingling.

"To Varn and Carys!" Flint raised his glass, a broad grin spreading across his face. "And to the magic of The Lonely Tavern, bringing together those who are meant to find each other."

"To Varn and Carys!" the others echoed, clinking their glasses together.

Carys sipped the Yuletide gin, the warm spices, and subtle sweetness dancing on her tongue as she savored the flavor.

As the other people in the bar sipped their drinks, they subtly moved away from the newly mated couple, giving them space.

"You have no idea how long I've been searching for you," Varn confessed, his voice low and filled with emotion.

"Searching?" she asked.

"All shifters search for their mates when they reach a certain age," Flint said, casting a glance at Varn.

Carys had the feeling there was more to Varn's searching than simply looking out for their mate, but she didn't want to press for details now. There would be time for opening up, for discussing their pasts…and their futures.

What did this mean for her future?

Carys had always lived by her own rules and followed her own compass. Might this dragon shifter have other ideas?

"Certain age," Carys arched her eyebrow. "That makes me feel old."

Varn shook his head and raised his hand, flexing his fingers. "You are not old. You are perfect." For a moment, Carys thought he was going to caress her cheek, and she leaned into him, aching for his touch. But then he dropped his hand to his side and took a sip of his drink.

He was…embarrassed? The flush in his cheeks certainly said he was.

This was not a man used to giving compliments, it seemed.

"So, do you live in Wishing Moon Bay?" Carys was good at making small talk. It was part of her job. But making small talk with Varn seemed so trivial, since they meant so much to each other.

Surely, they should be discussing where they were going to live, how many children they would have… The big stuff.

Is that what you did when you found your fated mate? Is that what Liselle and Flint talked about when they first met?

Surely not.

All relationships started with the small stuff.

"I've just arrived back here from overseas," Varn replied.

"Overseas." She nodded and sipped her drink. There, she had found common ground. "So have I. I arrived on The Wind Raider this morning."

"You did." His brow furrowed.

"Is there something wrong?" Carys asked.

"I don't…" He pressed his lips together.

"Go on," she urged. "You don't…?"

"I flew in this morning, too," Varn said, an edge to his voice. "In fact, I saw The Wind Raider. I sensed Captain Ronan and his crew."

"But…you didn't sense me?" she asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"No."

"I get that a lot." She waved her hand around in a large circle. "It's like I have an invisibility cloak on where shifters are concerned."

"You do?" Varn stared at her. Or maybe he was trying to focus on her with his shifter senses.

"Yes." She nodded. "But you can sense we are mates?"

Goodness, what if the poor dragon shifter had made a mistake?

It would certainly make life easier.

Though she admitted it would be disappointing. Incredibly so, she realized.

"Yes," Varn said firmly, his gaze locked on hers with an intensity that made her heart race. "I can sense it with every fiber of my being. You are my mate, Carys. There's no doubt in my mind." He paused. "And you?"

Relief came swiftly. She couldn't deny the powerful attraction between them, the way her body and soul seemed to recognize him on a primal level.

"Me?" she asked.

"You can feel it, can't you?" he asked, his gaze never leaving her face.

She hesitated, looking deep down inside herself. Was what she felt real? Or was she willing to believe in a fairytale ending, a happily ever after, because she wanted what Liselle had?

She wanted a man, a family, to set down roots.

But she also wanted to do what she loved. What she was good at. Her job.

She enjoyed diffusing situations; she enjoyed mediating conflicts and finding common ground between parties. It was her calling.

But Varn now called to her as well.

Carys took a deep breath, meeting Varn's intense gaze. "I feel it," she admitted softly. "This connection we share."

"So can I," Varn said with a tenderness that belied his passionate gaze. "I just don't understand why I couldn't sense you before." Varn's brow furrowed in confusion. "To think that we were so close to one another, and I had no idea. It's as if something was shielding you from my senses."

"I don't have any answers for you," she said. "But I'm here now." Carys reached out and threaded her fingers through his, reveling in the spark of recognition. The rightness of their hands joined together. Varn's grip tightened, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gentle caress that sent shivers down her spine.

"You're here now," he agreed, his voice low and filled with wonder. "And I'm not letting you go."

The fierceness in his eyes, the possessiveness in his words, should have frightened her. But instead, Carys felt a thrill of excitement, of anticipation.

How could things not work out when fate had brought them together?