Chapter 2

Sunlight streamed through the large windows of Lark Wilder's airy loft, casting a warm glow across his sleeping form. He stirred, stretching his limbs as he woke, and with a playful grin, he transformed briefly into his dragon form. The rush of magic and freedom surged through his body, and he reveled in the sensation before returning to his human shape.

Just as he was about to start his day, his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and chuckled, seeing his mother's name. "Morning, Mom," he answered, his voice still husky from sleep.

"Lark, dear," his mother's voice chimed through the phone, "I was just talking to Elsie about you. You know, you're not getting any younger, and I know some lovely single women who would be perfect for you. In fact, Elsie suggested?—"

Lark shook his head, a smile playing on his lips. "Mom, we've talked about this. I'm taking things easy right now. I'm not sure what my next step is, but when I meet the right woman, I promise you'll be the first to know."

"Oh, all right," his mother conceded, a hint of playful exasperation in her tone. "But don't wait too long. I want grandbabies to spoil!"

Lark laughed. "I'll keep that in mind. Love you, Mom." He ended the call and tossed his phone on the bed.

His thoughts drifted to Sera, the new festival organizer he met just a few days ago and was set to meet again today. He couldn't deny her beauty—she was stunning with her librarian-chic style and warm smile that lit up a room. But she was also rigid and strict, a far cry from his usual type of fun-loving, outgoing women who were just looking for a good time.

His dragon, however, seemed to have other ideas. It immediately wanted Sera, arguing that she was his mate. Lark begged to differ. Sera was definitely not his mate. She looked like she was ready to strangle him when he gave a suggestion. His dragon dismissed him. It said she was ready to be somebody's mate. A wife. Why not his? There was a connection there, a spark. Lark shook his head. A spark? Yeah, she looked ready to electrocute him when he disagreed with her. Lark ignored the dragon's insistence. He had a job to do with Sera, and the last thing he needed was to piss her off or scare her away.

He"d stayed away from Sera for the past few days, trying to think of how to handle her strict personality. He also needed some time to control his dragon and stop himself from doing something stupid like kissing her in the middle or her lecture. She was beautiful when she was riled up.

Determined to start the day on a positive note, Lark headed out to Molly Hues's Bewitched Bakery. The delightful scent of freshly baked goods and the warm, inviting atmosphere always lifted his spirits.

"Morning, Molly!" Lark greeted the cheerful witch behind the counter. "What's on the menu today?"

Molly grinned, her rosy cheeks dimpling. "For you, Lark, I recommend the foresight scone. It might give you a little insight into your future."

Intrigued, Lark took the proffered scone and bit into it. As the flavors burst on his tongue, a vision flashed before his eyes—a beautiful blonde child running toward him, calling him Daddy. The image shocked his system, but he tried to maintain a neutral expression.

Molly, however, noticed his reaction and laughed. "I've seen that look before on other men. The foresight scone can be quite revealing."

Lark chuckled, shaking his head. "You could say that again." He took another bite, savoring the delightful pastry. "So, Molly, what do you think about the upcoming festival? I'm a bit uncertain about working with someone so different from me."

Molly leaned on the counter, her expression thoughtful. "Change can be good, Lark. Sometimes, the most unexpected partnerships lead to the most magical results."

Lark nodded, mulling over her words as he finished his scone. "Thanks, Molly. I'll keep that in mind."

With a wave, Lark stepped out of the bakery and made his way toward town hall. On the way, he spotted Daisy Bloom, the owner of the Phantasm Pharmacy, chasing after a group of spectral puppies that had escaped from her shop.

"Need a hand, Daisy?" Lark called out, jogging over to her.

Daisy, her pink hair bouncing as she ran, flashed him a grateful smile. "Oh, Lark! Yes, please. These little rascals are faster than they look."

Lark grinned and, with a mix of charm and a simple herding spell, managed to corral the ghostly pups back to the pharmacy. Daisy scooped them up, cooing at them lovingly.

"Thank you so much, Lark," she said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You're a lifesaver. You know, I have a friend who's single. Maybe I could set you two up?"

Lark chuckled, shaking his head. Was the entire town trying to set him up? "I appreciate the thought, Daisy, but I'm not really looking for anything serious right now. Got a lot on my plate with the festival and all."

Daisy nodded, understanding. "Of course. Well, if you change your mind, let me know."

With a wave, Lark continued on his way, his mind drifting back to Sera and their next meeting. He arrived at town hall a few minutes late, his shirt untucked and still carrying remnants of his playful morning. His laid-back entrance contrasted starkly with Sera's punctuality and preparedness.

As they settled in to review the festival schedule, Lark couldn't help but notice how tightly wound Sera seemed. Her hair was pulled back into a severe bun, and her posture was ramrod straight. He had the sudden urge to mess her up a bit—to pull her hair loose and see her relax and have some fun. It was almost an itch, a need to draw her out of her straight-laced shell. He wanted to pull her out of her seat, lift her onto the table, and kiss the timeline talk out of her mind. He wanted to see her lose her thoughts and watch her eyes glaze over for him. He cleared his throat. What the hell was wrong with him?

"I was thinking," Lark began, leaning back in his chair, "what if we add a midnight moonlight dance to the festival lineup? Something spontaneous and fun for everyone to enjoy."

Sera's brows furrowed as she considered his suggestion. "A midnight dance? Lark, we need to consider the logistical challenges. Security, lighting, music arrangements. It's not something we can just throw together on a whim."

Lark sighed, feeling stifled by her rigid approach. He wanted to shake her. Or kiss her. Or get her out of her clothes. All three sounded good. "But that's the beauty of it, Sera. It's spontaneous. It's about letting loose and enjoying the moment."

Sera shook her head, her expression firm. "I understand the appeal, Lark, but we have a responsibility to ensure the festival runs smoothly. We can't just add things willy-nilly without proper planning."

Frustrated, Lark pushed back from the table and stood. "I need some air. I can't think in here." He walked out, mumbling about needing space.

Outside, he spotted Cedric Fernwood, the town mayor, and made his way over to him. "Cedric, got a minute?"

Cedric, his cousin, a commanding presence, smiled warmly at Lark. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

Lark ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "It's Sera. She's so rigid and structured. I feel like I can't breathe around her. I've been trying to think of how to handle her, but it's difficult to figure this out. I feel like her structure is going to drive me crazy."

Cedric chuckled, patting Lark on the shoulder. "Patience, Lark. Sera might be a stickler for schedules, but she's only trying to do her best for the festival. Give her a chance. I think you'll find there's more to her than meets the eye."

Lark's dragon hummed in agreement, and Lark couldn't help but nod. "Yeah, okay, Cedric. I'll try to keep an open mind."

To lighten his mood, Lark put on an impromptu magic show for the children in the town square. Using his dragon's breath, he created shimmering illusions that danced in the air, drawing delighted gasps and cheers from his young audience.

As the children dispersed, Lark found himself wandering into the enchanted woods, seeking the wisdom of the ancient trees. He laid a hand on a gnarled trunk, feeling the thrum of magic beneath the bark.

"I don't know what to do," he confessed to the trees. "Sera and I are so different. How can we possibly work together?"

The leaves rustled, and Lark could have sworn he heard a whisper on the wind. "Patience. Understanding. Growth."

Lost in thought, Lark didn't notice Tabitha approaching until she was beside him. "Penny for your thoughts?" she asked, her warm smile instantly putting him at ease.

Lark chuckled. "Just trying to figure out how to work with Sera. We're like oil and water."

Tabitha nodded, her expression thoughtful. "You know, Lark, sometimes people's rigid exterior is a defense mechanism. A way to keep themselves from getting hurt."

Lark's brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know Sera's whole story," Tabitha said, "but I get the sense that she's been through some tough times. Her methodical nature might be rooted in deeper insecurities. When someone has had a past they couldn't control, they sometimes become strict with the things they can control."

Lark considered her words, a newfound understanding dawning on him. "So, what do I do?"

Tabitha smiled. "Get to know her. Try to understand where she's coming from. You might be surprised by what you find."

As Tabitha walked away, Lark continued his journey through the woods, mulling over her advice. Suddenly, a mischievous wood sprite appeared before him, holding out a vibrant green herb.

"For understanding," the sprite said with a wink. "Brew it into a tea and share it with the one you seek to know better."

Intrigued, Lark took the herb, tucking it safely into his pocket. Perhaps this was the key to bridging the gap between him and Sera.

As the sun began to set, Lark made his way back to town hall. He found Sera still hard at work, poring over festival plans and logistics. Quietly, he slipped out and made his way to Molly's bakery, picking up a cupcake as a peace offering.

When he returned, he placed the cupcake beside Sera, offering a tentative smile. "I thought you might be hungry."

Sera looked up, surprised by the gesture. "Thank you, Lark. That's very thoughtful."

Ferro jumped up on the desk and sniffed at the sweet offering.

"Hey," Lark said, "that's not for you." He set the ferret on the floor, stood, then stopped in his tracks. Her aroused scent was faint, but he bet his dragon's scales that small act of kindness had earned him brownie points with Sera. He hadn't done anything special. Just given her a cupcake. A soft, tentative smile spread over her lips. "It looks delicious."

Ah, man. She looked much more delectable than that cupcake ever could. His dragon gave him the old I told you so.

Lark sat beside her, taking a deep breath. "Listen, Sera, I know we've gotten off to a rocky start…twice, but I want to make this work. What do you say we try to find a compromise like we did earlier? Integrate some of my spontaneous ideas with your structured plans?"

Sera considered him for a moment, then nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I think we can definitely do that. Let's give it a shot."

As the night wore on, Lark and Sera found themselves huddled over the ancient festival scrolls, the soft glow of the lanterns casting a warm light over their work. Lark watched as Sera's slender fingers traced the intricate lines of the spells, her brow furrowed in concentration.

Suddenly, Sera let out a snort of laughter, her hand flying to her mouth. "Oh my goodness, Lark, look at this," she giggled, pointing to a particular passage. "They've completely misinterpreted the levitation spell. It says ‘to make the caster float like a gentle breeze,' but they've written ‘to make the caster bloat like a gassy cheese'!"

Lark leaned in, his eyes widening as he read the scroll. A grin spread across his face, and soon, he was laughing along with her, the sound of their laughter echoing through the quiet halls of the town hall.

"Can you imagine?" Lark chuckled, wiping a tear from his eye. "The poor sorcerer trying to impress the crowd, and instead of floating gracefully, he starts expanding like a balloon."

Sera's laughter intensified, her shoulders shaking as she clutched her sides. "It would be like that scene from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with Violet Beauregard turning into a giant blueberry."

They continued to laugh, the tension that had earlier filled the room now dissipating like morning mist under the sun. As their laughter subsided, Lark found himself watching Sera, utterly transfixed.

The warm glow of the lanterns softened her features, casting a golden light over her skin. Her eyes sparkled with delight, and her cheeks were flushed from laughter. A few strands of hair had come loose from her bun, framing her face in soft waves.

In that moment, Lark saw her in a new light. Gone was the rigid, unyielding woman he had butted heads with earlier. In her place was someone warm, someone with a sense of humor, someone... stunning.

Sera glanced up, catching him staring. "What?" she asked, a curious smile on her lips.

Lark shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him. "Nothing, it's just... I don't think I've ever heard you laugh like that before. It's nice."

A faint blush crept up Sera's neck, and she ducked her head, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, I guess you bring out the worst in me," she teased, her eyes twinkling.

"The worst?" Lark gasped, placing a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Here I thought I was bringing out the best."

Sera grinned, shaking her head. "All right, all right. Maybe not the worst. But definitely the silliest."

"I'll take silly over serious any day," Lark said, his voice softening. "Laughter looks good on you, Sera."

There was a beat of silence, a moment where their eyes met and held, something unspoken passing between them. Lark felt a flicker of warmth in his chest, a spark of something he couldn't quite name.

Sera cleared her throat, breaking the spell. "We should probably get back to work," she said, her voice a little breathless. "These festival plans won't sort themselves out."

Lark nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "You're right. But let's try to keep the laughter going, yeah? It makes the work a lot more enjoyable."

As they turned back to the scrolls, their heads bent together in concentration, Lark couldn't help but steal glances at Sera. The way the light played off her hair, the cute crinkle of her nose when she encountered a particularly confusing passage, the soft curve of her lips when she smiled...

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This was Sera, his festival planning partner. He couldn't be thinking of her like this. And yet, he couldn't deny the warmth that had bloomed in his chest, the sudden, inexplicable desire to make her laugh again.

Perhaps Tabitha and Cedric were right. Perhaps there was more to Sera than met the eye. And perhaps, just perhaps, he was starting to see her in a new light.

With a small smile, Lark turned his attention back to the scrolls, his mind whirling with thoughts of Sera and the unexpected turn this night had taken.