by Anna Lowe
“Sure. Bye, guys,” Tessa called.
“Bye,” Cassandra mumbled, wondering what to do.
“Oh. When did Silas say he was coming back from the Big Island?” Kai called from the edge of the lawn.
Cassandra’s head snapped up. The Big Island? She looked out toward the ocean. Why would Silas go there?
“He said he might not be back until late,” Tessa replied.
Cassandra forced a bite of bread down. Drax was on Maui, not the Big Island. So why would Silas go there?
“What’s on the Big Island?” she asked, oh so casually.
Tessa shrugged. “Who knows? Silas manages so many business interests for the owner of the estate, I can’t keep track. It is an interesting place, though. Not as beautiful as Maui.” She winked and pointed to one of the picture books on the coffee table. “But still nice.”
The owner of the estate. If only Tessa knew.
Cassandra picked up the book and started leafing through the images while trying to puzzle everything out. She flipped past incredible scenes of black sand beaches and swaying palms. Surfers in aquamarine waves. Turtles. Then she got to the centerfold and stopped abruptly at a nighttime image of a volcano spewing glowing red chunks of molten lava.
Volcanoes. Lava. Flames.
She sat perfectly still. Those volcanoes had formed the backdrop to her dream.
Tessa glanced over from the kitchen. “Have you been to the Big Island?”
Cassandra shook her head numbly and bit back the words on the tip of her tongue. No, but the Windstone is there. I sent it there to keep it safe. Ironic, huh?
Her jaw had just about come unhinged when she discovered the private jet’s flight path was New York to Maui. She’d mailed the diamond to a relative on the Big Island because it seemed like the end of the world at the time. Was that a crazy coincidence or an act of fate?
“The volcanoes are quite a sight,” Tessa went on. “They’ve been really active lately. Kai and I went over not too long ago to practice spitting fire.”
Cassandra’s eyes went wide. “You what?”
Tessa grinned. “There’s a little place past Kapalana, all the way at the end of the road — and I mean, the end of the road. One lonely cottage and not much else. Hardly anyone goes there now that they’ve closed the road. But it was perfect for us. If you fly at low altitude at night, no one spots you, and no one thinks anything of bursts of flame. It’s a perfect place to practice. I’m finally getting the hang of it, too.”
A month ago, Cassandra wouldn’t have believed she’d be part of a casual conversation about spitting dragon fire, but now, her mind was too busy to dwell on that. She pretended to look at the book, turning the page to a waterfall in case Tessa glanced her way.
Volcanoes. Spitting fire. Out-of-the-way places.
If I can find a way to take Drax on without involving the others — to lure him into a fair fight…
She clutched the book. Had Silas already put his plan into action?
But none of it made sense if Drax was on Maui. Then she froze. Had Drax tracked down the diamond?
Just you wait and see, she remembered Eloise cackling, back at Cassandra’s last visit before the shit hit the fan. A lure spell. The simplest yet hardest spell to weave. But if you manage it — if you weave all the details into place and mix enough magic in, what you envision shall come to pass.
You’re going to kill a dragon by dreaming about it? Cassandra had asked, not taking her seriously.
Eloise had laughed deviously. No, I’m going to dream of my enemies killing each other.
Cassandra pictured Drax and Silas, bristling at each other, first in the alley in New York, then at the gala dinner on Maui. The only thing that had prevented an open fight was the risk of drawing human attention. But way out in a corner of the Big Island…
The trick to a good lure spell is the detail, Eloise had said, tapping her chin in thought. The where. The how. All that has to be in the spell.
Cassandra had shrugged at the time and said the first thing that came into her mind. Cast them into a volcano. At sunset. Make it really dramatic.
She’d been kidding, but Eloise had taken her seriously. Volcano. Sunset. Good idea.
Oh God. She wanted to cry. Eloise, what have you done?
She trembled where she sat. God, what had she done? Had she subconsciously contributed to the spell — or worse, had she added the details over time?
Her chin drooped lower and lower until she jerked her head up before Tessa noticed her alarm.
But Tessa had her back turned as she checked a pot on the stove. Cassandra slapped the book shut and chewed her lips. Was Eloise capable of such a devious act or such a powerful spell?
Yes, she was. Cassandra could picture the old woman, gathering her energy for one last, spiteful act.
Just you wait and see.
“Just another few minutes…” Tessa murmured, tasting her soup.
Cassandra’s eyes flew to the clock. She couldn’t afford to wait. She had to warn Silas and somehow set things right. But how?
She looked at Tessa. Dare she enlist Tessa’s help?
A helicopter whooshed overhead, and Tessa followed it with a smile.
Shit. Kai and Hunter were both leaving the estate. And Silas, she was sure, would be furious if she involved them.
Of course, she might have to risk his wrath. The ends justified the means, right?
Her heart sank. Somehow, she knew Silas wouldn’t agree. He’d never forgive her for that.
So, then what?
She mumbled an excuse and headed to the guesthouse, where she fumbled for her phone. She paced, looking at the ocean while she waited for the line to connect. The sweeping view showed two islands — Lanai and Molokai. The Big Island was out of sight, to the southeast.
“Come on. Answer, Silas.”
The phone rang and rang while she paced and cursed.
“Answer, damn it. Please.”
Chapter Eighteen
Silas stepped out of his rental SUV and slammed the door closed. When he turned in a slow circle, his combat boots crunched over loose chunks of lava. He wrinkled his nose at the pervasive scent of sulfur. Entire sections of coastline were steaming — even glowing — where lava emerged from underground and hit the sea. Fire and water, battling it out.
There was no one in sight, only a cluster of vehicles parked at the edge of the road. They were high-end rental vehicles, and all were well beyond the Road Closed sign half engulfed in lava. No tourist would come out this way, and locals didn’t either. So what was going on?
He sniffed then frowned.
Drax.
He scanned the ridgeline ahead. He couldn’t see his nemesis, but Drax was out there, all right. Silas could sense it.
The breeze shifted slightly, and his step faltered. Moira was there too.
Outwardly, he was perfectly still. His breath measured, his arms relaxed at his sides. But inside…
Damn it. He was a mess.
Tearing himself from Cassandra’s side had been the hardest thing he had ever forced himself to do. Which was ridiculous. He’d headed into enemy fire against impossible odds in his army days — the kind of artillery fire that could mow down not just humans, but quick-healing shifters too. He’d faced countless deadly shifters in his time. At a young age, he’d dug his father’s grave, fighting tears the whole time. He’d even watched Moira — the woman he thought he loved — leave him for his archnemesis.
But none of that was as hard to face as the simple act of slipping out of bed, gathering his clothes, and stepping out the guesthouse door. He might as well have stuck daggers in different corners of his heart as he went.
Mate, his dragon mourned. Need my mate.
Yes, he needed Cassandra. He loved her, desperately. But that was exactly why he’d had to leave — to protect her. To finish off Drax or die trying.
But if we die… his dragon started.
He stared into the distance. The only r
eward in dying would be knowing that Cassandra had a chance of survival. He’d seen the threat in Drax’s eyes the previous night. His archenemy had sensed what Cassandra meant to him, and those evil eyes had lit up with glee at the prospect of stealing yet another treasure from Silas. The most precious treasure of all. His mate.
My true mate, his dragon breathed.
He nodded. My true mate.
Years ago, he’d believed Moira was his mate, but looking back, it was all so clear. He’d had to talk himself into loving Moira — the woman his parents had betrothed him to. Bit by bit, he’d come to inhabit the fiction he’d created. That Moira loved him and he loved her. That together, they could lead the dragon world into a new era of peace and prosperity.
He kicked the ground, then gazed out over the crashing waves.
Cassandra was the opposite in every way. He’d had to talk himself out of loving her. From day one, it had been a battle to resist her. A battle he had no hope of winning, because Cassandra was his destined mate. And as any of his brothers-in-arms would say now that they were happily mated, You don’t fuck with that.
For a second, he was transported back to Koa Point in the morning. The palms had swayed quietly overhead. Waves whispered over the sand. Cassandra’s chest rose and fell within his embrace.
Peace. Goodness. Tranquility. He’d had it all for one night.
Then he opened his eyes, and the image vanished, replaced by this desolate landscape. A deep breath brought him a lungful of rotten-egg smell, and he remembered where he was. The Big Island of Hawaii, where he would face Drax in a final battle to decide it all.
What were his chances? Less than fifty-fifty, at best.
Drax was older, wiser. A tick slower, perhaps, but more experienced, especially when it came to the art of devious warfare. Drax had risen to power by outmaneuvering, outthinking, and outsmarting every dragon who’d dared stand between him and utter domination of the shifter world. Most importantly, Drax had no honor code. That alone tipped the odds from fifty-fifty to…
Silas couldn’t come up with a number. How did one quantify courage? Determination? The fury and frustration born of a lifetime of always being one step behind Drax?
If only he’d been born a few decades earlier. Drax had only won the upper hand through crafty maneuvering back when Silas was too young to defy him. Drax had capitalized on each victory, entrenching himself in an ever more secure position while stripping Silas of every advantage he could.
If we had been born earlier, we might have missed Cassandra, his dragon pointed out.
That made him smile, at least briefly. A bittersweet smile, because he’d always hoped to have his mate for more than one night. He wanted a lifetime of slow mornings and languid afternoons. A lifetime of joyous years that ticked by at a My, where did the time go? pace. Years filled with love and laughter. Maybe even kids.
He took a deep breath. That might not be his destiny, but at least he’d won a night with his mate. No one could take that from him.
Not even death.
He looked up at the ridgeline. If it was just Drax out there, Silas had a chance of success. But who knew? Drax had to have sensed the inexorable pull that had drawn Silas here, steering him to an exact place and time that was foggy to him until the moment he’d arrived. Drax would have known to be wary of such things. Even if he couldn’t resist the mysterious pull, he might have been suspicious enough to bring backup forces with him.
And if he had, Silas’s chances were essentially nil.
Not that he’d been foolish enough to leave Koa Point without a backup plan. This was his chance at defeating Drax one-on-one. But if he failed…
He flexed his fingers, feeling the push of dragon claws inside.
Failure isn’t an option, his dragon growled.
Silas didn’t comment. Pep-up slogans like that were all well and good, but in the end, they didn’t decide battles. Neither did destiny; all she did was arrange chess pieces on the board and sit back to watch the game unfold. It all came down to preparation, split-second decisions, and sheer firepower.
So, yes. He might fail. Every good commander considered the possibility. That was why he had left detailed instructions for Kai in the form of an urgent message scheduled to ping in his cousin’s inbox very soon. Too late for Kai to interfere with the fight on the Big Island, but enough time to prepare the shifters of Koa Point for the worst. Drax was capable of anything — like sending part of his private army on a surprise attack on Koa Point to obliterate the only other thing that Silas cared about.
His gut tightened. Koa Point meant everything to him. The place and the people. It was home, and they were family. A family Cassandra could easily be part of, if she agreed. So Drax was likely to strike there, even if it was just to gloat over Silas in the afterlife.
Then he corrected himself. Drax was sure to strike Koa Point because he was desperate for the Spirit Stones.
So Kai would be ready. Whether that meant rallying everyone to fight or hastily packing their most treasured belongings and fleeing would be a decision for Kai as the new leader of their band. Kai would find some way to build a new life for everyone.
No one wants a new life or a new place, his dragon complained. Everyone likes what they have.
They did now that they had found their mates. But they would have no choice if Drax won this fight.
Silas rolled his shoulders and forced himself to focus. The big picture was important in the planning stages, but on the battlefield, everything came down to the there and then.
His eyes roved over the harsh landscape. The there was up beyond that ridge. He could feel it as surely as he could feel the mysterious, almost magnetic force that had guided him to this remote place. The then was soon — very soon. The sun was sliding toward the western horizon, ready to turn the islands over to night.
So let’s go, his dragon huffed. Let’s get this started.
He shook his head. Soon didn’t mean instantly. The ticking countdown in his head told him that. The strange thing was, he sensed two countdowns. One stemmed from the force that had drawn him to this final confrontation with Drax. The other ticked at a slightly slower pace as if trying to slow the first clock down, whispering, Just a little longer.
A little longer to what? he wanted to shout.
That message came from a foggy section of his mind that refused to reveal anything. It just tugged on him, slowing him down.
You need to buy time. Stretch every second out.
Buy time for what? The longer he waited, the more time Drax had to mobilize his army of mercenaries.
Somehow, though, Silas couldn’t ignore that call, just as he hadn’t been able to ignore the lure of his true mate. So he stood still as a statue for another five minutes, letting the wind whip his clothes as he went through his usual pre-battle routine. Clearing his mind, compartment by compartment. Piquing his senses, concentrating his power. His skin itched as dragon scales fought to emerge.
Just a little longer… Stretch every second out…
His dragon huffed and puffed, growing angrier by the second. Which was good, because an angry dragon was a powerful one. As long as his human mind played commander, his dragon could be his battering ram.
It’s time, that first clock hissed. The one he didn’t trust. Get moving.
That clock was armed with an irresistible force that pushed his legs into action. So he walked up the path to the ridgeline — but slowly. Cooperating yet subtly resisting at the same time.
Good. Just a little longer, said the clock that lay closer to his heart.
He picked his way over the uneven field of lava. Pahoehoe lava — the smooth kind that looked like waves frozen in time. Long, black ripples of it that looped this way and that, one section rolling over another. Once upon a time, that had been molten lava, glowing red hot.
Just like my eyes, his dragon hissed, ready to fight.
A steam vent hissed to his right, reminding him that molten lava still crept a
long underground. The sun inched lower, tinting the sky red and orange. Silas picked his way over a circuitous route, banking fractions of a second for whatever it was that seemed so important.
A raven cawed, and the sound echoed across the empty landscape.
Hurry up already, the pushy timepiece ordered.
He headed for a saddle in the ridgeline where he would have the clearest view of whatever lay ahead. Though, by now, he knew. He covered the remaining distance, stopped, and spoke casually.
“Drax.”
Drax stepped into sight and sneered. “My dear young cousin.”
Silas glared. Drax was a master of reinforcing their inequalities. They faced each other, nostrils flaring, fingers twitching, barely moving while their dragons readied themselves inside.
Kill him, Silas’s dragon roared so loudly, he barely heard the whisper in his mind.
Buy time. You need more time.
“Finally, you’re here,” Drax continued, baiting him.
Finally, I get my chance to fight you one-on-one, Silas’s dragon growled.
He looked around, searching for whatever tricks Drax had planned.
Drax snorted. “You didn’t think I would come alone, did you?”
Silas had hoped Drax would come alone, but no, he hadn’t counted on it. The question was how many bodyguards Drax had brought along.
“Why would I think you would fight honorably?” Silas spat.
Drax laughed. “Your father was always one for honor, tradition, and principle. A pity it killed him in the end.”
“You killed him,” Silas said, careful to keep his voice even. “Just like you killed Filimore.”
Drax shrugged. “They had to go.”
Silas’s face blazed with heat, but he didn’t say a word.
“My time, on the other hand, has come,” Drax said. “Or should I say, our time?” He motioned to his left.
Silas followed the gesture then took a deep breath. “Moira.”
Of course, she had come. She made her usual grand entrance, stepping out from behind a lava outcrop. Her arms moved slightly, making her red dress seem to float. Silas snorted, remembering how she used to practice that in front of a mirror. God, what had he ever seen in her?
