by Lauren Smith
That was the wrong thing to say. Charlotte already sensed the old protectiveness rolling off of Damien. “She’s not yours. She’s a part of my family.”
Meg stepped in front of her boss and placed a hand on his chest. “Uh…Damien, remember what we talked about? This is what drove her away in the first place. You keep talking about keeping an open mind, about the Brotherhood changing its ways. Well, that attitude has to start at home.”
Damien locked eyes with his subordinate, ready to challenge her. Instead, he took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re really okay with all of this, sis?”
Charlotte got up from her chair. “Yes. I love him. I’m part of him. And he’s part of me.”
Damien was still silent, uncertain, but Jason came over and pulled her into a fierce hug. “He’ll spoil you, right? He’d better, if he knows what’s good for him.”
“Yes, he will—too much, I suspect!” She laughed and let him go. After that, everyone began to relax, even Damien. Mikhail opened the bottles of beer and wine and filled a glass for everyone. Meg wasted no time in catching her friend up on events. Part of her couldn’t believe that she was here in Rurik’s apartment, the Brotherhood and the Barinovs partying…together.
“So this whole dragon thing…does it make you less afraid of heights?” Jason nudged her with his elbow in the way he’d always done when he’d teased her as a kid.
She considered the question. “The dragon isn’t afraid when she’s in charge. I trust her to keep us safe.”
“She?” Meg asked. “I’m a little confused. Someone said that you and Rurik share the same dragon soul. I mean, let’s back up and get to the question everyone really wants to ask: What the hell happened to you?”
Charlotte frowned. So much of that other world had faded from her memory, like she wasn’t supposed to remember. Snow, dragons, shadows, fire… Was it real or some kind of dream realm between worlds?
“It’s hard to explain. I was…somewhere else. Rurik was dying, and the only way I could save him was by giving my life to him. To fill the void left behind, some of his dragon came into me. We are the same dragon.”
“Then how is your half a she?”
“Any psychologist will tell you that we all have a masculine and feminine side,” said Madelyn, leaning in. “My guess is that the soul divided along those lines.”
Sitting on another sofa with Piper, Mikhail spoke up. “It’s true. Charlotte’s dragon did not just look feminine, she looked supremely feminine.” This got him a glare from his mate. Mikhail coughed. “Perhaps I should have said too feminine.”
“Perhaps you should have.”
“Yes, and Rurik looks more masculine than ever,” said Madelyn, which earned her an equally harsh glare from Grigori. Dragon shifters and jealousy seemed to go hand in hand.
“That’s so crazy.” Jason sipped his Russian beer.
Damien, on the other hand, looked at Charlotte with a sad smile. “Do you guys mind if I have a moment with Charlotte?”
“Sure.” Jason gave her another quick hug and then went to join Grigori and Kathryn, who were already in animated conversation. Kathryn was spinning her hands to weave a small spell for the oldest Barinov dragon, which he seemed to find fascinating. Charlotte turned her focus back to Damien, and her eyes, so much sharper now, didn’t miss the lines of weariness around his eyes and the sorrow in his gaze.
“I fucked things up royally, little sis.” He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and ducked his head. “I came into Moscow guns blazing, ready to kill for you, and that wasn’t the answer to the problem.”
Charlotte stiffened. “Problem?” He thought she and Rurik being mated was still a problem?
“Yeah, the problem of your unhappiness. It’s my fault. I kept you caged your entire life. I didn’t trust you to be strong like I know you are. I tried to convince myself you were helpless and that you needed me. I guess losing Serena made me half-crazy when it comes to protecting those I love.”
“Just half?” Charlotte tried to tease, but her throat was tight.
“Okay, completely crazy.” His rueful smile tore at her heart. “My point is, I was wrong, Jason was wrong. We shouldn’t have shut you out of our lives, even the dangerous parts. You are strong enough—hell, more than strong enough—to handle it all on your own. And it’s our fault we didn’t want to acknowledge that.” His gaze met hers before his focus flicked over to Rurik.
“I love him, really love him, Damien.” She touched her brother’s arm. “But just because I’m a dragon shifter now, it doesn’t mean I’m not your baby sister anymore.”
Damien chuckled and let out a long sigh, looking sideways at Rurik out in the living room with the others.
“As much as I want to punch him, I have to give him credit.” Damien’s smile was rueful. “I watched him leap out of that window, not knowing if he would be able to save you. It’s not what I expected from a dragon, but he did it because he loves you.”
Charlotte blushed at Damien’s words. It was always awkward to talk to her brothers about love, but especially Damien because he was more like a father to her than a brother.
“And I have to apologize to him too.” He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. “What we did to Rurik and to you… I’m just so sorry. Jason and I were completely overreacting assholes.” The pain in his hazel eyes filled her with an echoing sympathy. “I’ve tried so hard to make the Brotherhood different from the old days, and yesterday…yesterday I almost took us down that same path.”
“I was so mad at you,” she whispered. “But when you love someone, you do crazy things to keep them safe.”
Damien looked down at the floor, defeated in a way she’d never seen before. She flung her arms around him, squeezing him tight.
“All is forgiven,” she promised. “But you have to let me go. I’ll always be your sister, but I’m my own woman. I always have been.”
“I know. And you’re part of Rurik now. You need him as much as he needs you. And he’s good to you.”
“He’s good for me,” she corrected gently, letting go of her brother. “With him around I don’t just live, I feel alive. Does that make sense?”
Damien nodded, looking back to Rurik, who was laughing at whatever Meg and Tamara were telling him.
“So you stay with him,” Damien said. “A dangerous battle dragon. He better not put you in any more danger.”
She couldn’t help but grin. “You don’t get it, do you? I’m a battle dragon now too.”
“I know, but—”
“And it’s more than that. We’re the same dragon, just different parts. We’re like two arms of the same body. Can you imagine how much more dangerous that makes us?” She smiled at him, feeling a power and confidence she’d never had before. “You won’t have to worry about me, Damien. Trust me.”
“The Barinovs have enemies,” he countered.
“And so does the Brotherhood.” She touched arm. “But as of now, the Barinovs and the Brotherhood are on the same side. And with luck, maybe we’ll get some other factions out there to see the light too. This shadow war that’s existed for so long between humans, shifters, and the corruptions like werewolves and vampires? It all stems from a lack of communication. You know that.”
“Who knew my sister would end up being wiser than her big brother?” Damien chuckled, looking back at the ongoing party. “Or that my in-laws would be fire-breathing dragons?”
“This is going to change everything. Between our families, we can stop the Silvas and the Drakors out there. The ones who don’t believe in coexistence, only control.”
Her brother nodded. “The world needs a safer path, and we will make it.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Just promise me you’ll be happy with him.”
“I promise.” Life with Rurik was everything she’d dreamed of having.
“Good. Now let’s get back to the party before Jason finds a way to embarrass himself.”
Charlotte smiled. “Sure. But, Damien…�
�� Her older brother—a man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders—deserved that happiness too. She only hoped he would be brave enough to let a woman back into his heart.
“Yeah?”
She wiped her eyes. “Don’t be afraid to love again. Serena can’t be the only woman out there for you. You can find someone else who will love you as much as she did.”
He chucked her under the chin like she was a little girl, and with a sad smile he said, “It’s too late for me, sweetheart.”
She watched him join the others and closed her eyes, thinking of the land of snow where her lover’s heart had been guarded. But the storm was gone. The snow fell softly around her. In her mind, she touched the fiery heart. Their heart.
“Charlotte?” She opened her eyes. Rurik was at her side, arms wrapped around her waist. The scar down his cheek was a thin pink line that she barely noticed. Somehow it had healed more since she’d shared her life with him. She focused on the crinkle of laughter around his eyes and the way he said her name with a gentle reverence.
“Hi,” she whispered, biting her bottom lip.
He cupped her face in his hands. “Hi,” he echoed. She reached up to curl her fingers around his wrists as he held her face. There was something she’d been waiting to tell him since she’d woken up. Now felt right.
“When I was trying to save you…” She sought the words to explain what she’d seen. “I was in a snowy world, and I saw your beating heart, like a living flame. I don’t remember much, but there were dragons all around me, welcoming you home. But one was urging me to reach you, to save you. She called me little one.”
Rurik’s gaze sharpened. “She called you little one?”
Charlotte nodded. “Just like you do. She was green, like your eyes.”
His eyes softened, the jade color turning into a delicate sea-foam green. “Mother,” he mused. “It must have been.”
“She told me to hold your heart and never let go.” She curled one arm around his neck, pulling his head down to hers. “And I don’t intend to.”
She tasted a smile upon his lips, the kiss they shared full of an inner fire that they had felt from the moment they first met. When their lips finally parted, she glanced back at the party, which seemed to be going better than either of them had expected.
“The Capulets and Montagues will survive together after all,” she said. “Thank God for that.”
Her dragon grinned back at her. “Thus, with a kiss, we live.” And with that, his mouth captured hers.
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Grigori: A Royal Dragon Romance
Chapter 1
“Here there be dragons.”
—Note on a map from the Age of Exploration, regarding Terra Incognito.
Blue and silver scales whispered against grass as the giant beast crawled across the field toward Madelyn Haynes. Rain lashed her skin and lightning laced the skies. Smoke billowed from the beast’s nostrils, and his amber eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as it crept closer. There was no escaping. The creature had finally found her and would destroy her. It had already killed tonight and would kill again. Ash infused the air, the scent of smoke choking her. Fear and rage filled her, drowning her with the overwhelming sensations until she was torn between two instincts: fight or flight. Her skin tingled, the feeling building until it felt like she was on fire.
A man was shouting . . . “Run!”
The beast turned away from her, searching for the person who’d cried out a warning but it was no use. The creature would kill her too once it found her.
There was no way she would survive. She was going to die . . .
“No!” The word was a silent scream upon her lips as she tried to run.
Boom!
Madelyn jolted upright, her mouth open in a strangled shout. The covers of her bed were wrapped around her legs, and she kicked out trying to free herself. Panting, she clutched her head as a dull throbbing ache beat behind her temples. She breathed in and out, focusing on each breath and the tranquility it gave her before the headache subsided and her heart stopped pounding against her ribs.
Then she turned on the light by the bed in her small hotel room and reached for her sketch pad and pencil. Using pillows to prop herself up she flicked to a fresh page and began to draw. The lines came easily, as they always did when she had the nightmares of the beast. It left such a vivid image in her mind that she had no trouble bringing it to life on the page. As the sketch began to develop, she knew what she would see. A serpentine creature with an elegant snout, two large wings and a long tail that could snap back and forth like a whip.
A dragon.
For as long as she could remember, whenever it rained, she dreamed of that same dragon. Rain, scales, lightning, and a crashing sonic boom that rattled her awake.
Madelyn studied tonight’s dragon. It was blue and silver with a deep sapphire underbelly. The webbing of its wings was a fainter, almost icy blue. It had a large, almost lizard-like frill that fanned up around its head like a lion’s mane which was that same glacial blue as its wings. It was an eerily beautiful creature with fierce eyes and sharp talons and was in a predatory crouch as though ready to hunt her down. Madelyn’s hand trembled as she set the pencil down and stared at the dragon. A part of her had hoped that leaving the United States—and changing her surroundings—would make her feel less trapped, less hunted. But the nightmares had followed her.
She was still being hunted.
She’d come all the way to Russia to save her career. As a professor in medieval mythology, she had been reading and researching dragons for the last five years. But lately she’d become convinced, as insane as it sounded, that dragons might have been real at some point in history. She was hoping to prove that some remnants of dinosaurs had remained alive into the time of humans, and that could explain the unique collection of global mythology around dragons. How else could dragon myths around the world have such eerie similarities? Something told her there was a kernel of truth to each myth she’d come across, but she had to find a way to prove it.
Or else I’m fired.
Ellwood University had given her a three-month sabbatical to either pursue her theory and prove it, or drop it and attempt to tie her research to more traditional projects. Madelyn had collected her meager savings and rented this hotel room by the month in the Tverskaya district of Moscow.
Outside her window she could see the distance lights of the city and hear the low steady hum of traffic. Moscow was so different from her small town of Shelby, Michigan. Instead of a Russian concrete jungle and tangle of complex cityscapes and police sirens at night, the Midwestern air was filled with the hum of crickets and the throaty songs of frogs in the ponds. Some nights the breeze from La
ke Michigan would slip through the windows and soothe her as she slept. Even the winters in Michigan felt pure, clean, not like the dark, dirty snow-covered streets of post-soviet Moscow.
With a shiver of longing for home, Madelyn set the sketchbook aside and glanced at the clock. It was 6 AM. There was little point in staying in bed for another hour. She had to visit the Russian State Library and a few small antiquarian bookstores which could take up most of the day. She’d been here one week and had settled into a routine. Sleep. Research. Eat. Research. Home. Sleep.
She had come to Moscow alone and was hesitant about going out on her own after dark. She spent most of her evenings cuddled up in the armchair by her bed, reading. It was certainly safer than going out. Madelyn needed to feel safe. She feared the unknown, and what might be around the corner.
A therapist had once diagnosed her airily with a generalized fear of the unknown, citing trauma from her parents’ deaths. She had been two years old, too young to remember the details though she’d been with them when they’d died. Too young to know her own name or where she came from. Neither of her parents had IDs when the police found her in the wrecked car that had rolled into a ditch during a storm. Her name, “Madelyn”, had come from the name stitched onto her baby blanket. Her adoptive parents, the Haynes’s, had wanted her to keep that name.
Thoughts of her birth parents always made Madelyn sad and oddly helpless. She wished she could have done something to save them from the car crash. She knew that there was nothing a baby could have done, but it didn’t erase the helplessness. For a long moment, Madelyn watched the rain outside and rubbed one hand absently on her chest where her heart ached. And then, she did what she’d always done. She buried the memories and the pain and turned her thoughts to her research. It was the best distraction. There was nothing like wandering through the stacks of a library and letting the musty scent of ancient books overwhelm her. It was one of the reasons she’d been drawn to history when she was in college. Surrounding herself with the past, she knew what had happened, and couldn’t be shocked or surprised . . . was comforting.
