1

I perch on a sun-soaked peak, letting my scales drink the warm light while I survey the island of Ouroskelle, the domain I rule alongside my brother Varex.

I've been flying from cliffs to caves, from mountains to meadows, calculating the damage done by the Mordvorren, the sentient storm that battered Ouroskelle for days.

Mentally I tally up the losses.

Three deaths—one dragon and two humans, killed in the partial collapse of a cave.

Severe flooding in the low-lying parts of the island.

Heavy damage to the landscape from wind, lightning, and rockfalls. Beaches littered with debris churned up by the storm.

Most of the vegetation is wrecked, inedible. Prey is almost nonexistent.

And yet I have hope. Because during my visits to each member of the clan, I counted eleven eggs. With the two eggs Serylla and I produced, the total from this mating season is thirteen. I saw some women whose bellies are still round, who will soon lay the eggs they carry, and I'm hopeful that more have been bred, though they may not yet show it.

Varex sits on a lower ledge of the same mountain on which I rest, taking in the same view. I was relieved to see him alive, though he bears a ragged wound along his throat. When I saw it, I nearly killed his woman, Jessiva, but Varex took my neck in his jaws and shoved me out of his cave before I could attack.

"She tried to kill you," I snarled at him, but he only said, "That's between me and her." He wouldn't speak about it any further, nor does she seem to be carrying his eggs—though I only caught a brief glimpse of her, so it's difficult to be sure.

Varex stretches his wings and shakes out his long neck and shoulders. He does not relish the sun the same way I do—his preference is star-glow and moonless nights. Still, I can tell he's pleased that the storm has passed. He seems bone-weary, though, even more so than I am.

"Rothkuri and a few of the others who are skilled with fishing have gone to hunt eels, sharks, and whatever else they can find," I tell him. "We all need to eat and regain our strength. Then we can fly to the Middenwold Isles and see how the animals there have fared. If they survived, we will have plenty to feed the hatchlings when the time comes."

"The Mordvorren did not touch the Middenwold Isles," Varex says.

"How do you know?"

A shudder traces through his entire body. "I just know."

I extend my neck and touch his wingtip with my nose. "You're not yourself. Is this about Jessiva, or the ones we lost?"

He shifts away from my touch. "Both."

"And something else, too. You cannot fool me, brother."

"I can't talk about it yet," he hisses. "I don't understand it, and I'd rather not speak of it."

"Very well. Know that I'm here, whenever you decide to share your thoughts. "

He chuffs softly in assent.

"Have you gained control of when you change?" I ask.

"More or less. I can only remain in human form for a total of eight hours before I'm forced to transform into a dragon. And if I've been a dragon for sixteen consecutive hours, I'm forced into human shape. But within those parameters I can manage it, parcel out the time, and plan when I want to be in each form."

"I've learned the same thing." A twinge of restlessness flickers through my heart. I've been surveying the island and checking on my people for a long while. It's high time I found some food and returned to the nest where my Princess and my eggs await me.

My mental attention shifts to the wisp of awareness between me and Serylla—my instinctive sense of her location.

I should be able to find that thread easily… but no matter how hard I concentrate, it's not there.

Ice runs through my veins, and I lift my head, extending my neck to its full height.

My connection with Serylla has vanished.

"What is it?" asks Varex.

Whipping out my wings, I plunge down from the peak, angling for the fastest wind channel to gain maximum speed.

Varex follows me. "Kyreagan, what's wrong?"

"Serylla. I can't sense her. I've been so distracted—I can't remember when I last felt her presence. Shortly after I left the cave, I think. Fuck…"

Varex doesn't reply. Perhaps he and Jessiva do not share the same link that Serylla and I do. Our bond is new, untested… perhaps I shouldn't be so frantic about its absence. But I can't shake the dread crawling along my bones, the suspicion that something is very wrong.

With Varex at my side, I soar toward the entrance of my cave and land hastily on the ledge .

"Serylla!" I hate how desperate I sound. Her scent is everywhere, but it's not fresh. It has faded over a number of hours.

With a wondering light in his eyes, Varex crawls toward the nest where the two eggs sit side by side. "Your little ones."

"Serylla!" I call again. I return to the brink of the ledge, peering down at the ground far below. Maybe she fell, maybe she jumped… but she wouldn't. She wouldn't . Not after I promised to take her back to the mainland and set her free.

I shouldn't have stayed out so long. I told myself it was my responsibility to speak with every member of the clan, as well as each captive. But maybe I was also putting off the conversation Serylla and I planned to have—our discussion of her departure. She said we would talk about it when I returned. Maybe my dread of that talk twined with my need to care for my clan, and delayed my return. This is all my fault. I should have come back sooner.

"Where is she?" My claws grate into the rock, carving deep grooves. "Where is she, Varex? I don't see a body. She didn't fall. She's not here."

"Perhaps another dragon came by and gave her a ride somewhere."

"Where?" I snarl. "Where could—"

The peaks of my brother's wings stiffen and his nostrils flare suddenly. "Be still a moment. Don't move, don't breathe." He lowers his snout to the floor of my cave and prowls along, sniffing deeply.

I'm able to detect a fellow dragon's scent when they're nearby, or if they've spent a significant amount of time in a certain space, and I can smell a human from some distance away. But Varex can pick up faint traces of an odor hours after its carrier has left the spot.

"Who is it?" I snarl. "Who do you smell?"

He raises his head, alarm in his eyes. "Fortunix. "

Fiery liquid churns in my stomach. While Varex and I surveyed the island today, I told him my suspicions—how I believe Fortunix was behind the plague that ravaged our islands and killed most of our prey. The plague he instigated drove us close to starvation and forced our clan to ally with Vohrain.

"You're sure it's him?" I grit out the words between clamped jaws.

"My nose is better than yours, you know that. Fortunix was here, briefly, some hours ago."

"He took Serylla."

"He wasn't at the gathering of the clan, where we chose our partners," Varex muses. "Several dragons commented on his absence. Maybe he sheltered somewhere alone, and he has been driven mad with the need to mate. Maybe he's going to—"

"No!" I snarl. "That's not it. Think, Varex. Who wanted the Princess of Elekstan? Who was willing to pay for her?"

My brother's eyes widen. "The King of Vohrain. Fortunix is taking her to Rahzien."

The fiery bile that has been lurching in my gut finally surges onto my tongue. I explode from the mouth of the cave into the sky, spewing streams of orange flame into the rain-washed air.

"Traitor!" I roar through the flames, the loudest cry I've ever voiced, immense as a peal of the Mordvorren's thunder. My voice echoes from cliff to cliff, all through the mountains.

I climb higher, raking my fire across the sky, screaming my fury until my chest aches. Dragons streak from their caves and fly at a cautious distance, hovering anxiously, sharing in my grief and rage even though they don't yet understand what I've lost. Some of the dragons carry human women on their backs, and the sight is like a voratrice's acid burning through my scales, because my woman is lost. My partner is missing .

"Give us a few moments," Varex calls to the other dragons. "Then we will gather in the Conch Valley and explain what has happened. Bring any food you have left, so we may all share it."

The others disperse, except for Varex, Hinarax, and Ashvelon, who carries the enchantress Thelise on his back.

"I can't stay for a meeting," I tell them. "I'm leaving now. I have to find her. Varex, you were there, you heard what Rahzien said. You know what he plans to do to Serylla."

"Explain, Prince," says Thelise, her brown eyes holding mine. "I'm a friend to your Princess, and if something has happened to her, I may be able to help."

In broken phrases I choke out the truth of Fortunix's treachery and his kidnapping of Serylla.

"I'm not surprised he's a bad seed," Thelise says dryly. "I never liked that one. Varex, how old was Fortunix's scent? How long ago did he visit Kyreagan's cave?"

"A few hours, maybe," he replies.

I swallow the liquid fire creeping up the back of my throat. "He must have arrived not long after I left."

"A few hours…" Thelise muses. "So Fortunix has already reached the mainland with the Princess. By the time you make it to the coastline, Serylla will already be in the hands of the King of Vohrain. Rahzien knows you did not want to give her up. He'll be hiding her somewhere, just in case you come after her. Vohrain's army is much better armored and has stronger weapons than Elekstan, and now that your alliance with them is over, they pose a greater threat. You'll have to be careful. Besides, you can't charge into a newly occupied city, burning citizens and smashing buildings as you hunt for her. You need a plan."

"She's right, my Prince," comments Ashvelon. "The Vohrainians have hand cannons that shoot armor-piercing projectiles. We've all seen them in action against Elekstan's armies. It won't take much for our former allies to turn those weapons on us."

"They're called guns ," offers Hinarax, a dragon with coppery scales. He's been hovering nearby, listening. "A new kind of weapon, not very reliable or accurate, but dragons are large targets. The Vohrainian army didn't have many guns at the start of the war, but the soldiers I spoke with told me their king is obsessed with such weapons, and is having new designs developed, along with better ammunition."

"Guns, yes," continues Ashvelon, with a sidelong look at Hinarax. "As I was saying… stealth and caution are required here."

"I prefer the charging, smashing, and hunting idea," I growl.

"You'll end up hurting Serylla or getting yourself killed," Thelise points out.

Varex moves a wingbeat closer to me. "She's right, brother. Besides, we can't risk angering Vohrain and jeopardizing our ownership of the Middenwold Isles."

"Rahzien signed those islands over to us," I say. "He can't go back on his word."

"Still, this will take delicate handling, unless you want another war," Varex replies. "We can't survive an all-out conflict with Vohrain. Whatever you do must be in the best interest of our clan—both dragons and humans."

I bare my teeth at him, but I know he speaks the truth. In my urge to save Serylla, I must not forget my duty to my own kind.

Thelise taps her chin. "I'm having a thought."

"Shit, we're in trouble now," mutters Ashvelon.

"Hush, you." She smacks his neck, an affectionate rebuke. "The King of Vohrain may not know that dragons can take human form now. Fortunix might not have passed along that bit of information. And whether Rahzien knows about it or not, he won't recognize you in human form. That's your angle. Your human face is the perfect disguise. With it, you can stroll right into the Elekstan capital… or approach the King's fortress in Vohrain, depending on where Fortunix took the Princess. You said he wants to use her to subdue the people, right? So I'm guessing he'll keep her in Elekstan. He might try to impregnate her quickly, to legitimize his claim on the kingdom."

My reaction to Thelise's last statement is visceral, uncontrollable. A possessive fury explodes through my body, and I roar another burst of flame in the enchantress's general direction. Ashvelon darts quickly aside so I don't burn his precious life-mate.

"Avoid that topic," Varex tells her sharply.

"Right." Thelise looks somewhat paler. She extracts a tiny flask from a pocket in her clothing and takes a swig.

I toss my head, groaning as I fight to suppress another gush of fire. When I have myself mostly under control, I say tightly, "You're forgetting one thing. I have horns, claws, and a forked tongue when I'm in human form. Won't they give me away?"

Thelise arches a brow. "Your horns stay with you when you change? Interesting. There have been a few such vagaries among the others, too. I suppose even the best-planned spells can go slightly awry. While I can't alter the spell itself, I can add a charm that allows you to dispel your horns and modify your tongue and claws when you're in human form."

Hinarax moves closer, inserting himself into the conversation again. He's young, twenty-five like Varex and I, and a bit of a trouble-maker. During our alliance with Vohrain, I had to chastise him a few times for disobeying my orders and wandering off to chat with Vohrainian soldiers. He's obsessed with humans and their technology, though he deeply distrusts their magic.

"My Prince," Hinarax ventures. "Forgive me, but I don't think this plan will work. You'd have to pass yourself off as human—not just human- shaped , but human- born , with all their knowledge and habits. If you plan to infiltrate the Elekstan palace or a Vohrainian fortress, you'll have to dress convincingly, in the right clothes. You'll have to know their protocols, their idioms, their honorifics. You'll have to eat the way they do."

By the Bone-Builder… he's right.

"I'll go with you," Hinarax offers. "You know I spent time with the humans—I was punished for it often enough." Unrepentant laughter shines in his eyes. "I can help you fit in, or at least advise you as you learn the humans' ways."

"This scheme sounds like it will take too long," I hiss. "Too much time has passed already. Serylla could be in pain right now. She could be enduring—" I choke on the words, unable to verbalize my fear. "Besides, don't you have a human captive to care for?"

"The girl I captured chose someone else," Hinarax says carelessly. "I prefer male company anyway. Ilbryen, Thytar, and I weathered the storm together and explored some very interesting new ways to mate. I'll tell you about it on the way, if you like."

I don't relish the idea of this bright-eyed, human-obsessed male accompanying me, but he's a decent fighter and he's willing to join me for what will be a dangerous mission. I'd prefer my brother's company, but one of us must stay behind to lead the clan.

"I suppose you can come with me," I tell Hinarax grudgingly. "But I'm in no mood for hearing about your mating habits."

"Understood, my Prince." Hinarax bobs his head.

"Ashvelon and I will fetch the supplies for the charm," says Thelise. "We'll meet you at your cave."

"And my Prince—" Ashvelon's eyes meet mine, sympathy in his gaze. "If this scheme fails, and you need the clan, we will fight for you and the Princess. Love is worth starting a war. "

"So dramatic." Thelise smacks his neck again. "Come on, pet."

They wheel around and soar away.

"I'll fetch Jessiva," says Varex. "She and I will watch over your eggs while you're gone."

"No," I snarl. "I don't want that woman anywhere near my offspring. Have Rothkuri and his partner do it. You can check in on them now and then."

Varex looks as if he might argue, but after glowering at me he says, "Very well. I'll address the clan and have food brought to your cave. You should eat something before you go."

"I'll fetch the food," Hinarax offers. He heads off in the direction of Conch Valley, while Varex hovers before me, anxiety furrowing his brow ridges.

"I know you must go after the Princess," he says. "But Kyreagan—be careful. Be wise as Grimmaw, strategic as Vylar, and—"

"Diplomatic as you?"

He chuckles. "Exactly."

"I will think of the clan and do my best to avoid further conflict. But Serylla is…" I struggle for words. Nothing seems to fully express what she means to me.

"I know," he says softly, an ache in his voice. "Trust me, I know."

Without another word, he soars away.

I wish we had more time. I know something is troubling him, and I want to help—but every bone in my body is screaming to leave Ouroskelle and race after Serylla. If I'd known there was the slightest danger of something like this happening, I wouldn't have left her for a moment.

Diving back into my cave, I prowl over to the nest and gently tilt the eggs with my clawed forepaw. An inspection of each egg's entire surface reveals that they are still intact, undamaged. I tip them carefully upright again and scrape some of the grass closer around them.

The blankets which covered Serylla lie discarded in the nest. When I push my nose against one of them, her scent rushes into me, an earthy sweetness that sends shards of pain through my heart.

"I'm going to save your mother," I tell the eggs in Dragonish. "Whether I bring her back with me, or whether she chooses her own path, I want you to know that she is the most beautiful, clever, kind, musical, funny, precious person I've ever known, and you are both lucky to have come from her. I claim the protection of the Bone-Builder over you both. Know that I'm only leaving you because I have to. You will be in excellent hands while I'm gone, and I promise to return as soon as possible. On the bones of Grimmaw and Lorgin, of Arzhaling and Zemua, I swear it."

Despite all the flames I spewed in my rage and sorrow, I feel more liquid fire in my belly, more energy ready to be used. Since the mating frenzy, my powers seem to have amplified. Which will be useful when I get Serylla back—because once I know she is safe, I plan to burn everyone who touched her to the fucking ground.