by Lili Zander
Only a fool turns their back on a big cat. I back toward the car, never taking my eyes off the shifter. It roars loudly as I inch away, sensing that it’s about to lose its prey. I watch it crouch into a leap, and then it jumps into the air, making straight for me.
I make a dash for it, scrambling head first into Silas’ car. I almost make it unscathed, but the claws slash out before I can slam the door shut. My leg explodes with pain.
And then we’re speeding away.
“It scratched you?” Pieter asks grimly.
“Yes.” Blood wells from the wound, soaking the leather seat. The panther has my scent now. I’m never going to be able to return to MagLab.
I almost died tonight, and for what? My bank account is healthy, but you can’t spend money when you’re dead.
“Tell me you’re going to give this up, Aria. I’m too old to watch you throw yourself into danger.” Silas sounds shaky. “Please?”
I tried to steal from him once, and instead of turning me into the cops, he took me in. He saved me from the streets, and he treated me like family.
He’s never asked me for anything. He’s always been supportive. Always been there for me.
Now it’s my turn. “I’m retiring,” I tell the wolf shifter. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll look for a real job.” I lean forward and grip Silas’ shoulder. “No more thieving. I promise.”
2
Aria
One year later…
It is the darkest hour of the night. The moon is hidden behind a thick layer of clouds, and the air feels heavy. Goosebumps cover my skin, and when I reach for the sword strapped to my waist, the metal is cold to the touch.
Inexplicably, I recognize this sword. It’s called Endellion, an ancient Celtic word for fire.
Why do I know that?
I’m standing in front of a tall castle. I’ve never been here—I’d definitely remember something this creepy and Gothic—but again, I seem to know it anyway. This is the castle of the Rogue Prince, and those that enter it uninvited can never leave.
The blood-red ruby hanging on a thin gold chain around my neck blazes against my skin, giving me strength. The Dark Dragon has caused so much misery. He has trapped the magic of the Dragon Princes and perverted it for his own wicked use. He has cursed them to spend their immortal lives searching for their true mates, never being able to find them.
But the thing that tipped me over the edge?
He went after my family. He imprisoned Silas. And that is a line that cannot be crossed without consequences.
Gideon Zyrian must die.
I walk through long arched hallways of stone, searching for any sign of Silas. Torches blaze from metal brackets on the walls, but their light doesn’t pierce the gloom. In the darkness, I hear whispers, and a ghostly figure slides up to me, its eyes wild and staring. Aria, turn back.
My fingers tighten over my sword, but I don’t draw it. The wraiths—spirits of all that have died here—cannot hinder me from my quest.
Silas is already dead, another spirit hisses. Leave before you share his fate.
No! My knees go weak, and I almost crumble to the cold stone floor. Silas cannot be dead. I would feel it in my heart. I would know.
Wouldn’t I?
My pulse racing, I start running. Faster and faster. The Bloodstone around my neck is hot to the touch, its magic reacting to mine. This time, I don’t fight it. I let it lead me deeper into the Rogue Prince’s castle.
“Halt.” Two guards stand in front of a tall set of iron doors. I’ve reached my destination. “Who are you?”
My voice is cold as ice. “I am your death.” Before they can move, I draw Endellion from its sheath and slash at them. They fall to the ground, lifeless, red blood welling from their bodies.
As if the blood is an offering, the doors swing open soundlessly. The Bloodstone blazes in warning, but I don’t heed it. I’m so close to finding Silas.
Sword in hand, I enter the dark cavernous chamber. A tall cloaked man looms over a familiar, bound figure, holding a knife against Silas’ neck. “Aria Archer,” the Rogue Prince says as I take a step forward into the light. “I’ve been waiting for you. I thought you’d want to see this.”
“No,” I scream. “No, please.”
But it’s too late. Gideon Zyrian smiles viciously at me, and he slits Silas’ throat.
I’ve failed.
I sit up in bed, my heart racing, my entire body damp with sweat. As nightmares go, this one was a doozy. My fingers shake, and when I pull the covers away and roll out of bed, my knees are weak.
It was so freaking vivid. If it weren’t for the fact that Silas’ epic sword collection doesn’t include a sword named Endellion, I would be struggling harder with coming to grips with reality. I seize upon that fact like a life preserver. It was just a dream.
“Get a grip, Aria,” I tell myself in the shower. Hot water rains down on me, but the nightmare has left a chill that won’t go away, and I know why.
The dream feels real because it’s rooted in the truth. Silas might not be imprisoned in some Gothic castle, but he’s dying.
The only family I have is going to be taken from me, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
For some reason, wolf shifters are particularly susceptible to blood diseases. Silas has thrombotic thrombocytopenic purpura, or TTP, which causes his blood to clot uncontrollably. It’s controlled with monthly plasma infusions, but because Silas is a shifter, he can only be dosed with shifter plasma.
Shifter plasma is expensive. Each treatment costs fifteen thousand dollars.
Silas was a thief his entire life, but he was never a saver. He lived large and spent his wealth generously, giving to everyone who needed it.
Six months ago, my bank balance had a hundred thousand dollars in it, the money I earned thieving. Now, after six treatments—one a month—I’m down to my last ten thousand dollars.
In the next twenty days, I need to come up with another five thousand dollars.
Thirty days after that, another fifteen thousand.
And so on, and so forth, for at least five years, until the disease can be brought under control.
If I could, I’d rob MagLab in a heartbeat, no matter what the risk to myself, but the business has been shuttered. I stole from the dragons and got away with it, but MagLab has paid the price.
One step at a time. Focus on the five grand.
I step out of the shower, still cold, and mutter a curse as I glance at the clock on the wall. Brooke, the manager at Trendz Jewelry and Accessories, the store I work at, will take an extremely dim view if I’m late to work, and she’ll write me up if I’m there even a minute after nine. I’ve got to run.
3
Bastian
All the magic in the world is trapped inside the Bloodstone, and the Dragon Princes no longer have the power to access it.
Gideon Zyrian did this. Even his name causes me to see red.
“My Lord Jaeger.” The Alpha of the Eclipse Pack bows to me. It’s rare for a pack Alpha to seek me out, and I have a sneaking suspicion that I’m not going to like what Lukus Hyde has to say.
“Alpha.” I incline my head but don’t rise. Not that the wolf would expect me to. Shifters have a hierarchy, after all, and dragons are at the top.
As is our right. Other shifters can only access their magic to change forms. Dragons, on the other hand, can pull the threads of magic from the very earth itself, wielding it for our use. It makes us powerful.
And, as the Dark Dragon has demonstrated, it makes us dangerous.
“Something is wrong with the wolves, Lord Jaeger.” Hyde gets directly to the point. “More and more of our women are giving birth to Norms. In the last year alone, seven babies were born into my pack without any magic. It is as if we no longer have the power to pass our gifts to our children.”
Gideon Zyrian is the most powerful Dragon Mage alive. Five hundred years ago, when my mother broke off her arranged betrothal with Zyrian
and chose my father, her true mate, instead, the angry mage had invoked an old, dark blood curse on all dragonkind.
Since that day, no dragon has found his true mate. Zyrian was denied love, and he made sure that all of us would feel his grief.
The curse has had an unexpected side effect. Dragon magic has been steadily eroding, and worse, it’s not just us. I’ve heard from all of the magical races. The wolves. The bears. The panthers. Even the secretive alchemists have sent a delegation.
But every curse can be broken, and on her deathbed, it is said that my mother made a prophecy. When the Dragon Princes find their true mate, the curse will be broken, and the dragons will be restored to their former glory.
So we search for our mates. We hoard treasure, and we keep the peace among those with magic, but most of all, we sift through the magical beings, looking for a woman with the power to break the curse that binds our magic.
Hyde lifts his head and stares at me. “It is said that the dragons possess an artifact, Lord Jaeger,” he says, boldly, foolishly. “One called the Bloodstone.”
I rise slowly to my feet. Anger swims around me. How dare this wolf speak of our most valuable treasure? Who told him? Who has betrayed us?
“Run, you fool,” a voice shouts out in warning. Casius. Of course. Of the five Dragon Princes that still remain, Casius Slater is the one that’s most likely to stay calm and level-headed. “Can’t you see Bastian is shifting? Do you want to burn to a crisp?”
My dragon bursts forth with a roar, my fury erupting unchecked. The Alpha of the Eclipse Pack is brave, I’ll grant him that, because he stands his ground for a heartbeat before flinching and diving for cover. Fire shoots from my throat as I vent my anger. How does Lukus Hyde know of the Bloodstone?
Casius strides in front of me in human form, unfazed by my display of temper, and snaps his fingers in my face. “Bastian, calm the fuck down. If you burn Hyde, we can’t question him.”
Damn it. Why does Casius have to be so reasonable? My dragon is furious, and would love nothing more than to snack on the wolf.
I shift back to my human form, ignoring both my nakedness and Casius’s smug look. “Hyde,” I growl, seating myself back on the Jaeger throne. “Talk.”
The wolf is cowering behind a tall stone pillar, reeking of fear. We dragons tend to have that effect on people. Casius tsks in impatience. “He’s not going to burn you, wolf,” he snaps. “You’re safe. For now.”
Hyde slowly moves forward and kneels in supplication. “Who told you about the Bloodstone?” I ask him again.
“Three months ago,” he replies, “a wolf from Alaska visited our pack. His name was Drakkar Raedfwulf.”
“Alaska.” Casius exchanges a worried glance with me. “Are you sure?”
Zyrian’s fortress is in Alaska. On a hidden island near Nome, Alaska, to be precise. The stone building juts from the Bering Sea like a rock fist hurtling defiance at the sky. Or so I’ve been told. For obvious reasons—the Dark Dragon would like nothing more than to see me dead—I’ve never visited myself.
The location could just be a coincidence, but I’m uneasy.
“Yes, Lord Slater,” Lukus nods vigorously. “Raedwulf didn’t mean to mention the Bloodstone, I’m sure, but it was a full moon night, and after our midnight run, the pack gathered in celebration. One thing led to another, and he let the secret slip.” He gulps visibly. “I beg your forgiveness for my impudence, Lord Jaeger.”
Someone moves in the shadows. Mateo. I feel the flare of his magic as he probes the shifter’s mind. Knowing he’s caught my eye, he nods in confirmation.
The Alpha is telling the truth.
“If you wish to watch your cubs grow into adulthood,” I growl, “you will speak of this to no one. Now, go.”
If Zyrian is after the Bloodstone… My stomach clenches with anxiety. We must protect our most precious treasure because, without the magic embedded in it, we are lost.
4
Aria
“Aria, I’m going to need you to work late,” Brooke says as she pulls on her coat. “This merchandise needs to be put away before you leave.”
“My shift ends at five today,” I protest, completely irked. Brooke was supposed to work until nine and close up afterward, but her boyfriend called, and she’s decided to take off. This is the sixth Friday in a row that she’s pulled this crap. I hate this job. With no real education to speak of, no work experience I can point to—it’s not like I can put the MagLab job on my resume, can I?—and the desperate desire to not flip burgers for a living, this stupid, shitty mall job was the best I could do.
Once again, I question if giving up the trade is worth it.
You promised Silas.
Brooke’s keys jangle as she makes her way to the front doors. “You’ll want to make sure those displays shine before you leave. I’d hate to have to write you up again.”
Bitch.
She wouldn’t hate it one bit. In the last six months, she’s managed to write me up five times, all for made up reasons. The first time I refused to stay late because I had to take Silas to the doctor, she decided I was insubordinate and combative. Then, there was the ‘clocking in early’ write-up. Apparently, her boss got angry at the overtime I had been clocking. She got an earful, and I got written up. From there on out, no more overtime even if I earned it.
With a resigned sigh, I pull out my cell phone and type out a quick message to Beatrice.
Not going to make drinks tonight.
My phone vibrates almost instantly. Bullshit. Get your ass down here, it’s your birthday!
My birthday’s actually next Tuesday, but Bea loves parties, and she’s always eager for an opportunity to celebrate. Can’t. Have to work.
Her response is a slew of emojis, and I have a feeling that the eggplant she’s texting me isn’t a sign she’s hungry for eggplant parmesan. My lips twitch at my best friend’s antics. I met Bea in high school. I was the new student who’d been drastically behind in my coursework, and Bea was the only person in my class who’d been nice to me.
She got me this job. I can almost forgive her for the hell this place puts me through daily.
I’m kidding. I need every penny I earn to cover Silas’ medical bills.
At nine-thirty, I’m about halfway through the boxes when there’s a tapping on the display window. Bea is standing there holding up a bottle of wine. Shaking my head, I let her in.
“What are you doing here?”
“There’s no way I was letting you spend your birthday alone.”
“My birthday is next week, Bea,” I say, not for the first time.
She pays no attention. With a grin, she cracks open the wine, takes a swig straight from the bottle, and passes it to me.
I do my level best to resist the temptation. “You know I could get fired for this?”
She snorts. “That bitch wouldn’t dare. If she did, she’d be here putting all this shit away instead of you.”
She’s right about that. Brooke might write me up for every minor infraction, and she might try to dock my pay for the pettiest of reasons, but she’s not going to fire me. What the hell… When in Rome—or Trendz Jewelry and Accessories—do as the Romans do. Whatever that means. I take a deep drink from the bottle and try to hand it back to Bea, but she’s already rummaging through the boxes of merchandise.
“Let’s get this crap put away so we can hit the club!”
“You mean, go to Cellar and flirt with Jesse?” I smirk.
“Don’t judge me,” she replies with a wink. “My lady-cave needs a little love, and that man is fine.”
Jesse’s not my type, but Bea’s been mooning over him for months. She really likes him. I hold my hands up. “You know me. No judging. Just calling it like I see it.”
Beatrice has got the attention span of a gnat. She’s already moving to a display case. “Who buys this shit?” she asks, holding up a gaudy orange and hot pink necklace.
I point back to the large Clearance sign ha
nging over the display, which is overflowing with more ugly jewelry. “Nobody.”
We work in silence for a while, passing the wine back and forth. As I drink the cheap cabernet, I allow myself to forget about everything hanging over my head. Silas wasn’t well enough to get out of bed this morning. When I’d gone into his room to check on him, he’d waved me away. “I’m going to be lazy today,” he’d said, smiling weakly. “Take a leaf out of Madam Buttface’s book.”
I promised him I wouldn’t do any more jobs.
It’s the only way to save him. You’re not going to scrape up money for his treatments working this minimum wage gig.
I promised.
My thoughts ping-pong around in my head. Silas isn’t a fool. He knows I’m tempted. Even this morning, he’d grabbed my hand before I could leave, and he’d given me a meaningful look. “You promised, Aria,” he’d said.
“Oh my God!” Bea shouts into the quiet room, startling me out of my bleak mood and scaring the ever-loving crap out of me.
“Jesus, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Remember that sexy red dress?” she asks excitedly.
“The one you forced me to try on last month, even though it’s completely out of either of our price ranges?”
“That’s the one.” She holds up a silver necklace with an onyx stone that dangles low. “This would be perfect for it.”
I have to admit, she’s right. The stone hangs at just the right length that it would settle right between my breasts where the neckline plunges dangerously low.
You don’t have time to dream of frivolous things.
Before Silas’ illness, I might have indulged in the dress and the necklace, just because they made me feel pretty. Not anymore. I have too many responsibilities. I can hardly justify my girls-night-out with Bea tonight, let alone splurge on a two-thousand-dollar dress.
