by Lili Zander
I smile back at him. It feels like we’re a team. Like we’re solving this problem together. And though I’m a self-proclaimed people hater, and my favorite t-shirt is one that says ‘Namastay away from me,’ I can’t lie. It’s a really good feeling.
This morning, I hadn’t paid attention to which wolf Bastian had injured. We enter the private hospital room—guarded by almost a dozen panther shifters, of course—and to my disappointment, it isn’t Tall, Dark, and Deadly lying on a bed, steel bands holding him down so he can’t escape. It’s the other one, the one I don’t know.
The moment we walk in, and he sees Mateo and Casius, he goes pale. “Dragons,” he gasps, straining at his bonds in a desperate attempt to escape.
His fear is palpable, and I should feel sorry for him, but I’m numb. They threatened Silas. Pete’s dead. Casius or Mateo could burn this guy to a crisp right now, and I’ll feel nothing.
Mateo waves a hand in the wolf’s direction, and he subsides, slumping back in his bed. Dragon magic. It’s freaking impressive. According to Casius, there’s a curse that’s draining magic from the world, but you’d never be able to tell. First, this morning’s effortless healing, and now this.
Casius takes in my expression. “Mateo Valentini is the strongest dragon mage in the world,” he says quietly.
Mateo hears him. “Second-strongest,” he corrects without turning around. “The Dark Dragon is far stronger than me.”
“Zyrian dabbles in black magic,” Casius retorts. “You do not.”
Mateo doesn’t reply. “I’m going to ask you some questions,” he says to the prisoner. “You will answer them.”
“Truth spell,” Casius explains as the wolf-shifter inclines his head in resigned acceptance. “He wants to resist answering, but he cannot.”
Magic sure makes life easy.
“What is your name and pack?” Mateo demands.
The wolf visibly tries to fight the compulsion, but Mateo’s magic is too powerful for him. “Rhett Berringer of the Thunder Peak.”
I know Thunder Peak. The New Jersey pack lends itself as muscle to whoever has enough money to hire them. Silas has always cautioned me to avoid jobs where there’s any hint of Thunder Peak involvement. “It feels wrong to say this about my own kind, Aria, but those guys are animals.”
Casius must have heard of them too. “So you’re Raedwulf’s hired goons.” His lips curl in disgust. “Three wolves against one Norm girl. Brave.”
The wolf growls but doesn’t speak. Mateo watches him intently. “No, that’s not it,” he guesses. “Why did Raedwulf hire you?”
Ah. I see what Mateo did there. The wolf can’t refuse to answer a direct question. Berringer scowls. “He’s recruiting,” he says reluctantly. “He wants to overthrow his pack alpha.”
What was the name Pieter had mentioned? We’d talked about Raedwulf just last week, though it feels a lot longer. “The Red Growlers,” I say out loud, grinning to myself at the surprised look Mateo throws me over his shoulder. “I thought he got thrown out of the pack.”
“He did.”
Oh, right. I didn’t really ask a proper question. “Why did he get thrown out?” Mateo prompts.
Berringer’s jaw tightens. “Raedwulf’s mate gave birth to a cub three years ago,” he says. “A boy. But the child cannot shift. He’s not magical. So the pack told Drakkar to abandon his defective son.”
I inhale sharply. I grew up without knowing my parents. Until Silas came along, my life had been pretty damn miserable. This story hits too close to home.
At my side, Casius looks bleak. “The curse.”
“Did he?” Mateo prompts.
“No. He left, taking his son with him.” Berringer sounds angry. “His mate didn’t. She renounced Drakkar and her son, and chose the pack instead.”
Did something similar happen to me? Was I a Norm child of shifter parents? Did their pack demand that they give me up? Casius must sense my distress because he puts his arm around my waist in a wordless gesture of comfort.
“How does the Bloodstone play into this story?”
“A man came to Drakkar last month,” the wolf-shifter replies. “He told him that the dragons had a treasure. A small ruby pendant, with a golden dragon entwined around it. The stone had the power to cure the child. Restore his magic to him.”
Casius is shaking his head. “No,” he says, his voice etched with regret. “That’s not how shifter magic works. The gift is passed at birth. Once the child is born Norm, nothing can be done. The magic cannot be restored.”
“A man came to Drakkar?” Mateo asks. “Who was he?”
Berringer shakes his head. “I don’t know. Raedwulf went alone to the meeting, and when he came back, he was filled with new hope. He saw a way to cure his son and get back his mate. All he needed to do was steal from the dragons.”
“How did he find me?” I demand. “I was retired. Nobody knew I was a thief. Who told him?” But I already know the answer. I’ve known the answer ever since last night. Who’s threatening dear old Papa Wolf? Hagen Nygaard had asked.
When this is done, I’m going to have words with Nygaard. A lot of words.
“A fox-shifter. Hagen Nygaard,” Berringer replies. “He told Drakkar that if anyone could succeed at the job, that it would be you.”
And I’d been desperate for the money. Desperate to save Silas.
“So Aria comes to the rendezvous point this morning,” Mateo prompts. “Without the Bloodstone. Raedwulf loses his mind. He attacks our mate. What I don’t understand is, why go after Pete Solomon?”
The wolf-shifter looks confused. “Pete Solomon, that old Norm guy? Drakkar thought Silas Archer might take shelter with him, but he didn’t want to kill a Norm. Why would he? He was nobody.”
“What about the diary? Solomon’s place was ransacked. Aria’s diary taken from its hiding place. Raedwulf was searching for it. Why?”
Aria’s diary? What diary?
I can’t listen anymore. With a brief murmur to Casius, I slip out, nod at the waiting guards, and head down the corridor, searching for a place where I can get a moment of quiet. My thoughts swirl in confusion. Am I the Norm child of shifter parents? What’s this diary that Mateo and Casius both seem to know about?
Are they concealing something from me?
Just ask them, Aria. Don’t jump to conclusions. You did it with Bastian this morning, and see where it got you.
That’s true. I’m about to turn around and head back to Mateo and Casius when I feel a needle at my neck. “Stay very still, Ms. Archer,” a female voice says. “Unless you want to die.”
It’s the shifter doctor that tended to Silas last week. Drakkar even warned me that she was in his employ, and with everything else going on, I’d forgotten all about her.
I’ve made a fatal mistake.
41
Casius
Something’s wrong.
Of all of us, my connection with Aria is the deepest. She’s tasted Bastian’s blood, and he’s tasted hers. Rhys has kissed her. Mateo licked the blood from her wound earlier today. But none are as strong as the bond between Aria and me. Because her tattoo is inked with stolen dragon blood. My blood.
“She’s in danger.” I brace myself for the waves of fear, but it doesn’t come. Then Mateo clutches his forehead and drops to his knees. His eyes fill with shock, and then pride.
“How is she doing that?” he whispers.
Doing what? I sprint out of the room in search of Aria. “Which way did she go?” I snarl at the panthers milling about the door. “Why didn’t you follow her?” If Aria’s hurt, I will tear every single one of them from limb to limb for their failure to protect my mate.
Flames dance over my skin as I run in the direction the guards indicate.
Hold on, Aria. I’m coming.
42
Aria
“Why are you doing this?” I ask Dr. Brown through gritted teeth. This close to me, I can tell she’s a fox. A friend of Hagen, perhaps? But t
hat doesn’t seem right. Hagen is a lot of things, greedy, arrogant, unscrupulous, but I don’t think he’d kill me.
Or is Dr. Brown doing this on Drakkar Raedwulf’s behalf, finishing the task the wolf failed at this morning?
She laughs lightly, the sound chilling. “Why do you think, my dear? Because of money, of course.”
The needle presses against my skin, sharp, cold, and infinitely dangerous. “Money?”
“Yes. When Berringer was admitted as a patient this morning, I suspected something was wrong. So I planted a listening device in his room.”
Shifters using bugs? “You’ve been watching too much Norm TV,” I taunt her. Unwisely. The moment I say those words, I want to snatch them back. What the hell am I doing mouthing off to a woman that seems to be ready to kill me?
Dumb move, Aria. Really dumb. Dial down on the snark when someone’s holding a needle of God knows what to your neck.
Thankfully, she doesn’t rise to the bait. “And then I listened to an extremely informative conversation. The two men with you are dragons, and one of them called you their mate.” Her voice turns gloating. “How much treasure do you think I should ask for?”
That’s what she wants? I almost want to laugh. After talks of curses, prophecies, the Dark Dragon, and black magic, good old-fashioned greed is such a relief.
Think, Aria.
She’s a fox. Not a large woman, but she’s got shifter strength. I can’t fight her. I’m not strong enough. Can I call for help?
I can’t scream—the syringe is a pretty effective deterrent. But I’m connected to the dragons. Last night, Casius said that there was a link between us. Can I activate it? Can I alert the dragons so they can rescue me?
Ugh. Another damsel in distress moment. Not a good day for me.
Of course, the choices are dying or not dying, so my pride is going to have to take a backseat for the time being.
I close my eyes and let my senses expand. I send a thread of thought down the corridor where Mateo, Casius, and the panther-shifter guards are.
Ah, there they are. Casius and Mateo, warm and golden. My dragons.
Right. You’ve found them. How do you attract their attention?
I imagine myself tapping the two fuzzy glowing spheres. Hey guys? I ask soundlessly. A little help here?
Nothing happens. This isn’t working. My thread doesn’t seem to be good at getting Casius and Mateo to notice I’m in trouble.
I study the auras closely, trying to think of what to do. They’re not identical. Casius looks like a lot of glistening bubbles, while shimmering strands of magic cover Mateo, reminding me of the protective magic that had surrounded Bastian’s safe.
I tug at a strand, and to my shock, it responds. It almost seems willing to be commanded, waiting for me to tell it what to do. Umm, magic thread? I really hope they can hear my thoughts, because it’s not like I can speak out loud. Can you do something about this needle?
The syringe explodes in a burst of red-hot flame.
Dr. Brown yelps in pain and anger as her fingers burn with the force of Mateo’s magic. “What did you do?”
I tug at another strand and throw it at the doctor. And another. “You were working for Drakkar,” I accuse her. The fire inside me rages hot and out-of-control. Silas almost died. Uncle Pete was murdered. “You were ready to kill my father.”
I ask the strand to bind the fox-shifter, and it obeys me readily. “You would have stuck a needle in his arm. You don’t give a shit, do you, Dr. Brown?”
I watch with burning eyes as the strands of magic wrap tighter and tighter around the woman. Her face is going red, and her eyes start to bulge as the threads cut off her air supply. Her hands claw at her throat, but there’s nothing she can do. She can’t fight the magic.
“Aria.” Mateo’s voice washes over me like a cleansing drink of water. “We’re here, tesoro. Let go of her. We’ve got you.”
“She would have killed Silas.”
“And she will be dealt with, Aria.” Casius’ voice is calm. Level. It promises me that if I fall, there’s a safety net. They’ll catch me. “I give you my word. She will pay the price. But you don’t need her blood on your hands. Please. Let her go.”
With a shuddering breath, I release the strands, and they all snap back to Mateo. I start to crumble, but Casius moves as quickly as he did before, his arms going around my waist, steadying me. “You caught me,” I whisper. I feel like I’ve run two marathons, back-to-back, brutal and draining. My stomach heaves, and I have to fight the urge to be sick all over poor Casius.
Magic isn’t for Norms.
Mateo gives me an understanding smile. “Come, cara. Let’s go home.”
43
Aria
I start to feel better on the way back, especially when Mateo hands me a bar of chocolate. “Eat it,” he says. “It’ll help.”
“Ooh, like Harry Potter.”
He gives me a blank look. “Who’s Harry Potter?”
Hopeless. I turn to Casius instead, who grins. “I’ve read them,” he admits. “This isn’t like Harry Potter though. I’m assuming Mateo just noticed what I did at breakfast. You kept sneaking handfuls of chocolate chips when you thought none of us were watching.”
Busted. Oops.
I still need to ask them about the diary, but I’m not ready yet. Everything feels like it’s changing, and I want to cling on to my old life. I want to hear about Bea’s attempts to catch Jesse’s attention. I want to gossip with her about boys and bitch about horrible Brooke, my manager at Trendz Jewelry and Accessories.
Speaking of, after missing today’s shift without calling, I’m guessing she’s my former manager.
All of that feels so far away now.
Casius is driving. Mateo’s sitting next to him, staring into space. I pull my phone out to text my bestie. There are a dozen new messages from her, all demanding to know how last night went. Reading them, I immediately start to smile. Bea is so… Bea. Her enthusiasm is infectious.
Yes, Rhys and Mateo were there, I type. I kissed Rhys.
I did more than that, but for the moment, I keep that to myself. Five guys? That’s going to take some explaining.
Her reply is almost instantaneous. And? Did you get to second base?
I stifle a snort. Judging from the string of eggplant emojis, Bea thinks second base involves penises.
Mateo turns around in his seat. “I was just texting Bea,” I tell him. “Is that okay?”
“Do you normally ask your boyfriends if you can text your friends?” he asks pointedly.
“My boyfriends aren’t normally dragons.”
Casius chuckles. “She’s got a point, Mateo.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “Just treat us like you treat everyone else.”
Easier said than done, but I see what he means. If there’s any shot of this strange relationship working, we’ll have to get to know each other, and not walk on eggshells around each other.
Second and more, I type, knowing my message will drive Bea wild with curiosity. Gotta run.
She sends me a middle finger emoji in reply. You coming to Cellar Wednesday night? Half-price drinks.
Cellar. Another lump forms in my throat. Pete’s bar, his pride and joy, until he retired from the business and sold it. Silas is arranging a funeral, but going to Cellar seems a fitting way to say goodbye to my father’s best friend.
Yes, I’ll be there.
I get the feeling that the dragons aren’t going to be too happy about that, but I don’t care.
I fiddle with my phone. My notifications are out of control. I open my email and see a message from Preston Memorial.
Shit. The hospital bills. The ones I won’t be able to pay now. I hesitate over the message, not wanting to see the damage from Silas’ recent overnight stay. How bad is it going to be?
It’s not good. Fifteen thousand for the plasma treatment. Ten thousand for the night in the hospital. Two thousand for the ambulance ride, and another five h
undred for miscellaneous items.
Then I read the small note at the bottom of the message. Paid in full by E. Valder. No payment required.
E. Valder.
Erik?
My head spins. I don’t understand. Why would he do something so wonderful and so generous when it’s clear that he doesn’t like me?
44
Erik
“She was attacked? Again?” I stare at Mateo’s text message, pure, deep rage flushing through my body. “What the fucking hell, Jaeger? I thought your men were going to keep her safe.”
That’s a low blow, and I know it. If there’s anyone to be blamed, it’s Casius and Mateo, who let her out of their sight. But I can’t help myself. My anger comes from a place of heavy, intense, crippling fear.
This is Gisele all over again. Another mate that I can’t protect. I can’t do this.
Bastian stares out at the park, his hands in his pockets. “All morning, I’ve been reliving the moment when Raedwulf held his claws to Aria’s throat,” he says, his voice low. “If he’d attacked her then, I could have done nothing. I wouldn’t have been fast enough to save her.”
Aria needs all five dragons. Each and every one of you.
Those were Silas Archer’s words. The wolf-shifter is wise beyond his years. Maybe that’s what happens when everyone dear to you is slaughtered in front of your eyes. I trace the outline of the mark on my wrist with a fingertip. A five-pointed Celtic knot, and a circle that runs through all five points.
Then I close my eyes, and I see Gisele’s dead, mutilated body. Zyrian had left it for me to find. Why just hurt your enemy when you can cripple him? And I’d been crippled by the enormity of my loss. I’d retreated into my fortress and spent many years alone.
And now what? Do things change, or do they remain the same?
“We can’t do this,” Bastian says aloud. “From the start, Rhys was right. She’s in danger because of us, because of who we are. Look at the damage Raedwulf has caused. We can barely protect Aria from a wolf. Can we guard her against Zyrian?”
