The Dragon Legion Collection

Chapter Two



It would have been too easy for Aura to surrender.

She hadn’t just been tempted: she’d been on the cusp of giving her all to Thad. But as willing as her body was, and as persuasive as his argument seemed to be, she couldn’t help thinking that he was saying what he needed to say, in order to seduce her.

She couldn’t help worrying that as soon as the firestorm was satisfied, he’d be gone, and she’d be left with the son of a dragon to bear and raise. She’d seen the same thing happen to nymphs over and over again. It had happened to her mother. Aura had been determined that it would never happen to her.

Even if Thad was nearly irresistible.

She resisted by changing form. It was the only thing she could do to save herself from making what had to be a mistake. She couldn’t figure out how he could be so sure that there would be a son, yet she couldn’t see a child in her future.

Aura had to think—and when Thad kissed her, she couldn’t think responsibly. She could only think of seducing him completely and worrying about the consequences later.

Was that part of a dragon’s spell?

Aura did her best thinking when she was a breeze. Her thoughts flew then and associations were quickly made. Her intuition was stronger and she was more creative. When she shifted to a breeze, a part of her loved that Thad was not surprised.

Even more than not being surprised, he was seeking her. She saw his eyes narrow and heard him take a deep breath. It was exciting not to be certain she could disappear completely from his perception, to imagine that they had a kind of understanding because they were both different from others.

Aura soared out of the glade and through the protective fog that sheltered its secrets. She heard Thad roar behind her and knew he must have shifted shape: she could feel the sparks of the firestorm blaze hotter as she swept over the summit of the peaks. It was wonderful to race across the sky, and even more exciting to be pursued by a dragon nearly as fast as she was.

“I like him,” Nephele whispered, her admiration feeding Aura’s confidence in her impulse to trust Thad. “And I believe him.” Aura looked back. She saw that one of the clouds had trailed behind her but that a black dragon had flown past it and was closing fast.

It wasn’t Nephele who Thad was determined to seduce.

Aura tumbled down the side of the mountain slope, a zephyr of fresh air or a sigh from the mountain top. The trees swayed with her passing, and their leaves rustled. Thad was so close behind her that she could feel the beat of his wings through the air. She turned hard when she reached the green pastures and raced through the flowers, making them wave with her passing like the surface of the ocean.

“Give him to me,” whispered the flower nymph.

Aura didn’t think so. She might not be certain she would take the risk to be with Thad, but she wasn’t going to give him up just yet either. He probably would have insisted that the firestorm marked their partnership as a destined one.

Was he right? Did he mean it?

She liked that Thad didn’t give up the chase. That was a good sign. She thought of all he’d said, and all he’d promised, and felt an answering yearning within herself. She wasn’t young and she wasn’t old, but Aura had been alone long enough to find the idea of a partner appealing. Like the Pyr, nymphs lived long but weren’t immortal. She was pleased that they had that longevity in common.


That was when she knew. The golden apples of the Hesperides. If he would follow her to Hera’s garden, one bite of a golden apple would compel him to speak the truth to her. Then Aura would know, without doubt, the truth in his heart.

Perfect.

She soared over a river that was splashing down from the peaks of Mount Olympus and followed it, racing just above its surface. She spun and spiraled, knowing her dragon was right behind her. She made the water froth and the spray splash high, even as the sparks of the firestorm glowed in her wake.

Thad roared, and she looked back to see his eyes glowing as he pursued her.

“Remember she-who-should-not-be-named,” whispered Arethusa. “It might not be his choice to abandon you.”

Tisiphone. Arethusa had been confident to say the name of the Erinye while they were on Mount Olympus, in the domain of the gods, but here in the land of mortals, she showed more care. That made sense, since Tisiphone was supposed to occupy this realm until she avenged herself upon the Pyr.

Could Tisiphone kill Thad?

She could, without doubt. The Erinyes were merciless and horrible, and never forgot a grudge. Would she kill Thad? Aura couldn’t bear the possibility, no matter what future was between her and Thad. She stilled, a wind falling idle, and he swept around and through her, like a bird soaring through the leaves of a tree. Aura felt a wonderful shiver of heat in the instant that he was closest to her.

The firestorm’s glow faded to a pale light and Thad halted. The change in its light alerted him that he had missed something. He turned with grace and headed back toward her, his eyes bright with resolve.

“You can protect him,” Nephele whispered, her voice distant but clear.

And Aura yearned to do so.

So long as his intentions were true.

Her decision was made.

Aura swirled in the sky before Thad, waiting for him to fly closer. When he drew near her again, she rose beneath his wings, bearing him higher in the sky with the current she could create. He was startled, then eyed the radiance beneath his wings and laughed.

“Aura! It’s you!” he cried. “Let’s fly together.” He beat his wings hard and Aura became a faster wind, pushing him out over the Mediterranean. They swept high in the sky together, higher than Aura had ever flown alone. It was easy to be bold in the company of a dragon, and easy to believe anything was possible in the face of Thad’s optimism and conviction. He made her feel buoyant—and she could buoy him up. Thad’s wings moved so slowly that his flight looked effortless. Even if there was never any more than this, Aura knew she’d never forget this shared moment.

“I’ve never flown so high or so far from shore,” he murmured, his low voice sending a shiver through her. She could have shivered again that his thoughts were such a close echo of her own. “I’ve always wanted to be sure I could land.”

“It’s like you said,” Aura whispered, hoping he could hear her. Most mortals couldn’t hear the speech of the nymphs when they were in their alternate form, but she saw Thad’s head tilt, as if he listened to a faint sound.

“How so?”

“We’re a team. We’re doing more together than apart.”

He laughed then, a joyous sound that made Aura’s heart skip. “Is that how you and your kind speak to each other?” he asked.

“Yes, and you can hear me. Most mortals can’t.”

“Most of them can’t hear us, either, at least not well enough to distinguish the words.”

“Show me how you speak to your kind.”

“It’s old-speak, very low and slow.” Thad took a deep breath. “Like this.” The two words hung in the air for what seemed like forever. If Aura hadn’t been listening to him closely, she might have dismissed the sound as a rumble in the earth or the crash of a wave on a distant shore. Because she was listening, she heard the words, as steady as the beat of his heart.

“Tell me a secret,” she urged in her nymph whisper.

“The Pyr I most admire fall in love with their mates and honor them for every day and night of their lives,” Thad said in old-speak. He scanned the air around himself as he flew and eyed the dancing sparks of the firestorm. “Let me fall in love with you, Aura.”

It was an enticing offer.

If she hadn’t been her mother’s child, she would have surrendered right then and there. As it was, Aura kissed his cheek with a breath of wind, ran over his muscled body in a breeze that only made her want to touch him with her hands. She caressed the length of his tail and he laughed at the sensation, then she spiraled before him. Each time she slid past his body, the firestorm heated another increment, filling her thoughts with the prospect of pleasure. In her mind’s eye, she saw him in human form and wanted to feel his hands upon her, his flesh against her own.

“Far out there,” she said, blowing him so that he faced the west.

“I see only the sea, stretching endlessly.”

“Not so endless. At its far reaches are the Pillars of Hercules. Beyond that is the Garden of the Hesperides, a refuge of my kind in the mortal world.” She swirled around him again. “And maybe a haven for us.”

“A long flight,” Thad said, his wings beating with greater power. His determination to live up to her expectations fed her own confidence that she was making the right choice. “I will do my best, Aura.”

“And I will help you,” she vowed, urging his flight forward, as if he were no more than a seed in the wind.

* * *

Thad had never experienced anything like this before. He felt a sense of camaraderie with his fellow Pyr overall, plus the Dragon Legion fought well together, anticipating each other’s moves. This sense of union   he felt with Aura was similar, but amplified. Flying with Aura, feeling her slide beneath his wings while the firestorm crackled and burned all around them, was exciting in every possible way. He hadn’t been joking about never flying so far or so high: given their dimensions, dragons were better suited to shorter flights. He knew that some of the other Pyr flew far, even across the Atlantic Ocean, but he had never been so bold.

Maybe because he couldn’t swim.

In Aura’s company, though, he was filled with optimism and sure that they could achieve anything together. The sun was sinking in the west when he first saw the two large stones, standing like gate posts on either side of the turquoise water of the Mediterranean. He soared past them, with Aura’s help, then turned as the wind she had become changed direction.

Immediately, he saw the green gem of the garden she had mentioned. It was nestled far below, between the peaks, so vivid a green that it could have been an emerald. The ocean was dark blue beneath him, crested with white waves, and stretched seemingly endlessly to the west. The western sky was smeared with orange light and in the east, far behind them, the first stars were emerging.

Thad had never flown so far in his life. He never would have attempted it alone. He was tired in one way, but in another, his body hummed with excitement. The firestorm’s heat couldn’t be forgotten, and its sparks tingled against his scales, promising a reward for his feat. On this night, they would consummate the firestorm. Thad had spent the entire flight trying to think of ways to prolong the flame, but doubted he would be able to. All day long, his desire for Aura had increased. All day long, the heat of the firestorm had filled his thoughts with the promise of pleasure.

With no small anticipation, he descended toward the garden. Aura’s wind was still beneath his wings, guiding him to the spot. He knew it was a good sign that she was taking him to a refuge of her kind. Hers was a choice that spoke of trust, and hinted at the shared future he wanted more than anything. The air rising from the garden was sweet, something in it heated by the sun of the afternoon, and he could smell apples.

Of course. The golden apples of the Hesperides. That was another story he’d been told, but Thad had never believed they were real. That made him smile, for more legends and myths were proving themselves true than he had expected.

Were their powers real? He had heard stories that eating just one bite from such an apple granted immortality, or universal knowledge, or made every dream come true.

Aura undoubtedly knew their real properties. That made him think of all the tales and truth they could share, and how much better they would be equipped to face the challenges of the world together.

To his surprise, she took a turn just before they entered the garden. The wind that was Aura guided him to the sloping path beneath the garden. It was a barren slope, and the path was hard and dry. There was a single tree, though, its leaves silvery green. Aura led him to it, for some reason, and he saw the breeze that was her rustle the leaves. He turned over the tree and headed back up to the garden, certain she was showing off.

Then there was the garden itself. The shadows were already drawing long in the shelter of the garden and the space was filled with velvety green darkness. He could discern that there was a well-tended orchard below them, and that the boughs of the trees were heavy with golden fruit. He heard the sleepy hum of bees and the trickle of water, he smelled rich soil and herbs like lavender, and knew that this garden must be an earthly paradise.

Aura hastened ahead of him, because the firestorm’s heat dimmed to a glow and the wind that had driven him so far faded to a breeze. There was a sparkle on the ground between the trees, then Aura in her human form appeared. She turned and opened her arms to him in welcome, her smile and her gesture making his heart pound.

Thad flew toward her, the firestorm feeding his desire to a higher pitch with every beat of his wings. He heard her heart and felt his own match its pace, a sensation that nearly overwhelmed him with the conviction that their partnership was right. He was over the trees, preparing to land, when another dragon erupted from the shadows of the orchard below.

The dragon was of deepest green, and he had nine heads, each of which was breathing fire at Thad. His eyes could have been burning coals and his talons were as sharp as knives. There was something of a snake in his agility and form, and Thad knew instinctively that he was ancient.

The other dragon had surprise on his side. He had latched a talon on to Thad’s tail before the Pyr could respond.

Ladon, Thad realized. This must be Ladon, the guardian of the golden apples, and another myth come to life. Even as they locked claws to grapple for supremacy, Thad knew he couldn’t injure his opponent. Thad managed to shake his tail free, but Ladon’s teeth left bleeding holes in his flesh. He tried to hold his slithering opponent at bay, but Ladon showed no such restraint. The fire he breathed was burning Thad’s scales, and he bit again, sinking his teeth into Thad’s shoulder.

“Ladon!” Aura cried. “He is a friend!”

“Only nymphs can enter the garden!” Ladon cried with one head. At least that one stopped breathing fire for a moment. “I let no others pass, by order of Hera herself.”

“But I brought him here!” Aura argued. “He is my guest!”

“Never trust a nymph!” Ladon twisted and bit, biting deeply into Thad’s wing with another head. The blood flowed from Thad’s wounds, and he knew that this dragon would willingly kill him.

It was one thing to fight to the death. It was another to let an opponent win a battle for the sake of honor. It was still a third to let a dragon of any kind interfere with the firestorm.

Thad roared with fury and began to fight in earnest.

* * *

Aura had never seen dragons fight, and she wasn’t sure she ever wanted to again.

She had feared that Thad would be easily beaten. Ladon had taken him by surprise and seemed likely to overwhelm her dragon. The smell of burning scales was terrible and it was worse to see Thad’s blood flowing. She worried that Thad was tired from their flight and that even a robust dragon could be defeated.

Had she put him in danger? She felt foolish for wanting to test him and responsible for his injuries. At the same time, she knew she could never fight Ladon and win. Ladon had to be tricked for a nymph to survive an encounter with him.

Just when Aura feared the worst, Thad’s manner changed. He spun and turned on Ladon with a roar of fury that put the ancient dragon to shame. To her delight, Aura realized that Thad had been holding back. He breathed a torrent of fire at the other dragon that was fearsome in both volume and intensity.

Oh, there was much to be admired about a man—or dragon—who used his power with discretion. Aura thought twice about her scheme, but stealthily stole a single golden apple anyway. The tree made a cry of pain, just as she had anticipated it would—they were terrible snitches, these trees—but Ladon didn’t hear the sound.

He was too busy crying out in pain himself. Ladon fell back from Thad’s plume of fire, but Thad flew right after him. He seized the green dragon and spun him around, striking one head then locking claws with him again. They spun through the air, their tales locked and their teeth flashing as they bit at each other. Aura hid the apple in her tunic just as Thad flung Ladon at the ground. The other dragon crashed through one of Hera’s trees, breaking a number of branches, then hit the ground so hard that it trembled. Thad pursued him in furious flight, teeth bared and talons outstretched.

“Don’t kill him!” Aura cried. “Hera will curse you!”

Thad hovered in the air above Ladon, seething. Aura was glad he’d listened to her, but uncertain as to what he would do.

Ladon seized the moment and took advantage of Thad’s momentary hesitation. The other dragon twisted around, then leapt into the air once more. He breathed fire as he launched himself at Thad. Aura lost track of them both in the blazes of fire.

To her dismay, Ladon seemed determined to kill Thad. If Thad was defeated now, it would be her fault! She couldn’t just stand by and watch, and she couldn’t let Thad be burned when he couldn’t fully defend himself. She changed to a breeze and blew into one of Ladon’s mouths in a gust of wind, extinguishing the fire he breathed before it reached Thad.

She heard Thad laugh in triumph and Ladon snarl in frustration. She watched Ladon closely and targeted each of his mouths in turn, stopping the fire he would have breathed. Her efforts gave Thad enough relief from the fire that he could fight back harder. The air glowed between herself and Thad, and sparks danced wherever she touched his scales.

It soon became clear to Aura that Ladon was older or less used to fighting his own kind, while Thad was a warrior accustomed to battle. Ladon had started out fighting hard, but he was fading quickly. Thad was consistent, pacing himself so that he could sustain a longer battle. There were a flurry of punches exchanged, then Thad’s claws tore through Ladon’s wing.

Ladon lost altitude, but bit into Thad’s wing with one set of teeth. He tore the leather and Thad cried out in pain. Ladon breathed fire with another head, moving so quickly that Aura didn’t manage to put out the first spurt of fire. It burned Thad’s wing so that it smoked. Aura extinguished the blaze with a gust of wind, then blew beneath Thad’s wings to keep him airborne.


Ladon bellowed with fury. “Interfering nymph!” He lashed at the air with his tail, as if he would injure her, and his tail cut through the glow of light generated by the firestorm.

Thad’s eyes blazed. “The fight is between you and me!” he cried.

“Then keep her from interfering!” Ladon shouted back.

“Stop, please, Aura,” Thad said, just before he flew directly at Ladon and sank his claws into the other dragon’s chest. Ladon’s blood flowed over his scales from the wounds, and he breathed fire with new desperation. He struggled and bit, even as Thad’s scales smoked, and Aura hated that she couldn’t help.

Would Thad’s sense of honor be his undoing? Ladon took a deep breath and breathed fire with all nine mouths, creating a blaze so bright that Aura couldn’t look at it.

“No!” she cried, but Thad slammed the other dragon into a tree. He held him there, and punched each head until it sagged on its neck. He left one, then cast Ladon high into the air.

“You’re no better than a viper,” Thad declared, sending the other dragon flying through the air with a thump of his tail. “No other dragon would dare to interfere with a firestorm. No other dragon would think to injure a mate!”

Ladon fell heavily and the ground shook with the impact. Thad dived after him, but the other dragon held up a claw.

He coughed and considered Thad. “A firestorm?” he echoed, looking between Aura and Thad. For the first time, he seemed to notice the radiant orb of light between them. His eyes widened as he considered Thad. “You are Pyr.”

“Aren’t you?” Thad demanded. He was still agitated, still ready to fight. He flew in restless circles around the other dragon, and his eyes were narrowed to watchful slits. Aura noted the blood that stained his scales and winced that they were so singed.

“I am a dragon through and through,” Ladon said with audible regret. “I have no power to change shape.”

Aura could see that, for there was no alternate guise visible when she looked at Ladon. Thad, though, was clearly surprised.

“I’ve never known a dragon,” he admitted.

“I’ve never known a Pyr,” Ladon countered and Aura would have laughed out loud at their mutual astonishment if she’d had a better idea what to expect from the guardian of the garden.

To her relief, Ladon held out a claw in concession. “Help me up and show me this firestorm of legend.”

Thad lifted Ladon bodily from the ground and eased him into one of the more sturdy of the apple trees. The dragon sighed contentment to be there and coiled his tail immediately around the trunk. His wings fluttered to his back and his chins settled on various boughs.

Aura shifted shape and stood at the edge of the forest, close to Ladon. She saw the eyes close on six of his battered heads, but one of his gazes remained locked upon her. A second head watched Thad, while a third surveyed the garden at large, seeking intruders. Thad flew overhead, circling the garden as he peered in every direction. Aura frowned at the delay, but Ladon chuckled.

“They are said to be more protective than the rest of us,” he said softly. “But the treasure held most dear by a Pyr is not a golden hoard or even an orchard of golden apples.”

“What then?” Aura asked, curious.

Ladon smiled, revealing many sharp teeth. “His mate.” Aura’s heart skipped a beat and she couldn’t hold Ladon’s knowing gaze. She turned to watch Thad circle back toward her. “You are fortunate, Aura. It is said that there is no woman better loved than the mate of a Pyr.”

Aura smiled, remembering Thad’s words. Let me love you.

The glow around her heart made her think it might not take very long for her to love him back.

But a son.

Thad landed with that athletic grace, shifting shape just before his feet touched the ground, and Aura realized to her dismay that his injuries followed him between forms. He strode toward her, blood staining his strange clothing, and Aura ran to him in her concern. The firestorm’s light brightened as she approached him but he smiled, obviously noticing her fears and appreciating them. “It’s not so bad as it looks. I just need to wash out the wounds.”

“A fierce glow,” Ladon murmured. “Does it hurt?”

“Hardly,” Thad said.

“But it burns,” the other dragon said. “I can see that it must.”

Thad smiled. “But not in a painful way.”

Ladon looked between them, then smiled in understanding. His gaze seemed to linger on the flush in Aura’s cheeks and she assumed he could sense that her heart was fluttering in Thad’s presence.

“I have one favor to ask you before we satisfy the firestorm,” Aura murmured and saw how her words pleased Thad. She might be a nymph but she didn’t want an audience for their intimacy. She took Thad’s hand to lead him to a stream. It was clear how much it pleased him that she touched him first, and she liked the way his fingers curled around hers. They shared a smile that heated her to her toes, and one she thought might have done so even without the firestorm’s help. They had taken a dozen steps when the other dragon hailed them.

“A viper,” Ladon called from the tree, like an old man determined to gossip at the worst possible moment. Aura looked at the ground and tried to summon her patience. “What do you know of vipers, young Pyr?”

“Only that they have to be killed,” Thad said. His tone was hard and Aura glanced up to find his jaw set.

“Because you’ve done it?” Ladon was taunting, which Aura didn’t understand.

Thad nodded only once. “I belonged to a force charged with that task.”

“What are vipers?” Aura whispered.

“Pyr or dragons who turn against mankind,” he replied quietly. “They sing a spell, low and deep, one that turns men’s minds to hatred and bloodshed.”

Aura nodded. She could already see his sense of honor and duty. Was he a dragon of his word? Aura liked to think so, and she knew what promise she wanted him to keep.

“Then you know what happened to Cadmus.” Ladon’s tone turned sharp. “Maybe you were responsible for the attack on Cadmus.”

“I was there,” Thad said tightly. “We fulfilled our mission.” He looked back at the old dragon slithering in the tree, pride in his stance and confidence in his gaze.

“You failed,” Ladon sneered.

“Only the first time.”

“So you say. Maybe we old dragons can teach you Pyr a few things.”

“Maybe not.” They stared at each other, antagonism in Thad’s stance.

What did Ladon know that Aura didn’t? Ladon might be the guardian of the orchard but Aura had never really liked or trusted him. He was owed respect for his role as guardian, but he did seem to like making trouble.

“If he’s dead, who struck the killing blow?” Ladon hissed. “If he’s dead, who’s singing his spell?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Thad replied. “What had to be done was done. You can believe me or not.”

He dismissed the old dragon then, turning his attention to Aura. He smiled down at her and tightened his grip on her hand. “Lead on,” he murmured, his gaze warm. The light of the firestorm burnished his features, making a wonderful glow between the two of them. He bent and stole a sweet hot kiss, one that made Aura more than ready to see him naked. “Will you bathe me, Aura?” he murmured.


Aura would have led him to the stream to do just that, but Ladon called out again. “They said the ones who attacked Cadmus were enchanted for their audacity and lost forever to the sands of time.”

Thad froze and Aura felt the tension in him.

Was it true?

Thad turned with care and faced Ladon again. “They were wrong. I’m back.”

“But Cadmus still sings.”

“He won’t do so forever,” Thad said, his voice hard.

Ladon laughed. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because I don’t lie.”

“Is he lying?” Aura murmured.

Thad shook his head and gave Aura an intent look.

Would he confide in her? She hoped so.

She led him away from Ladon and the serpent’s questions, although now she had a number of questions of her own.

Ladon had made her realize there was a lot she didn’t know about Thad, his alliances and any missions he might have. She knew he must be honorable and knew he would fulfill any promises or duties. She could see already that that was his nature. But what about fighting these vipers? Could he be compelled to leave her and any son they had, no matter what she did and what he chose?

That wasn’t a very encouraging possibility. Aura had to know more.

* * *

Ladon’s words were like a toxin. Thad felt their effect upon Aura and saw the new hesitation in her manner. His anger flared at that. How dare that dragon meddle in a firestorm? How dare he undermine everything of importance?

“Were you enchanted?” Aura asked softly, so softly that even Ladon wouldn’t be able to hear her.

“Yes, but I’m not anymore.”

“Are you cursed?”

“Not unless you consider my nature to be a curse. I don’t.” He smiled at her, hoping to reassure her, but Aura seemed to still be troubled.

“What about she-who-should-not-be-named?”

He eyed her in confusion. “Who?”

“Hades gave her the right to seek vengeance on your kind in the mortal realm.”

Thad frowned. “I don’t know anything about that.”

“But the viper?”

He turned to face her, knowing he had to reassure her. “It’s true. We hunted a viper and we thought we killed him.” Her eyes widened but he carried on. “It was Cadmus, who had turned against mankind.”

“And thus was violating your mission.” She squeezed his hands. “I like that you ensure the integrity of your own kind.”

“We have to. It’s part of our responsibility.”

“I still like it,” she admitted with a smile that encouraged Thad.

“He triumphed over us that first time, and we became dragon’s teeth. Each warrior was enchanted to be a tooth in his maw.” To Thad’s relief, this didn’t seem incredible to Aura, but then she was a nymph who heard regularly about enchantments.

“You each became a weapon to be used against others. That’s very unpleasant, if clever. What saved you?”

“He was ancient then and withered, and soon he became no more than a pale worm in the shadows. Over the centuries, his teeth fell out and were buried in the earth. We slumbered in that form, trapped.”

Her eyes were round. “Beguiled by his song?”

“Probably to some extent,” Thad admitted. “One day we were found. The collection of teeth sold and traded hands, until it came into the possession of a Pyr who knew what we were and how to break the spell.”

“How did he do it?”

“He sowed the teeth in the earth, like seeds, and we sprang forth from the soil, warriors once again.”

“Was Cadmus dead?”

“Faded but not dead. He still sang his poisonous song to beguile men, even without his teeth, even with his faded strength. Under the direction of our old commander, we gathered and hunted him anew, and the second time, we triumphed.”

Aura’s smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. “But you said centuries had passed.”

Thad nodded. He wasn’t sure how she would accept or believe what he told her, but he wouldn’t have any lies between them. “This happened almost twenty-five hundred years in the future.”

“Yet you are here now. Can you journey through time? Is this a magical power of your own, or of your kind?”

Thad shook his head. He was glad that she was asking questions, and even more glad to be able to answer them honestly. The firestorm lit the night to a golden glow around them, and they spoke quietly together even as they walked. It was intimate and romantic and honest, everything Thad had always wanted to experience with his mate.

The answering light in Aura’s eyes convinced him that the firestorm had chosen the perfect mate for him. He loved how she helped him in battle, and how they were already learning to use their powers together. He liked that they were both shifters, too.

They didn’t have to have any secrets from each other.

“There is a force known to the Pyr called darkfire,” he explained. “It’s a strange and unpredictable power, and centuries ago, it was trapped within three quartz crystals to keep it contained. One crystal was broken in that distant future and the darkfire was set free. The light in another crystal was awakened and it called to our leader. When he had it in his hand, it carried our company through time and space, gradually separating us from each other.”

“Which is why you are alone,” she said, her sympathy clear.

Thad smiled. “I’m not alone. The darkfire brought me to my firestorm.” He gripped her hands more tightly and the flames emanated from their linked hands. “It brought me to you, Aura.”

“You don’t miss your fellow warriors?”

He held her gaze with resolve. “I do, but I have faith that all will be as it should be. The darkfire brought me here for a reason, and I will see this firestorm a success if it is the last thing I do.”

Aura studied him, so serious that he waited for whatever she was building up the courage to say.

“Will you do something for me?” she asked finally, her tone hinting that it was a request Thad might prefer to decline.

He nodded immediately.

She smiled at that. “Without even knowing what it is?”

“Of course. I trust you and I want you to trust me.”

Aura reached beneath her flowing tunic and produced a golden apple. It was more than yellow in tone; it looked to be made of gold. It was perfectly formed, like a sculpture of an apple. “Take a bite, and tell me that everything you’ve said to me is true.”

Thad smiled then, his confidence unshaken. “So, one of the stories is true,” he murmured. He didn’t wait for her answer, but took the apple from her.

Their fingers brushed during the transaction and a flurry of sparks erupted from the point of contact. The brilliant orange light was reflected in the gleaming surface of the fruit and in the darkness of Aura’s eyes.

Thad bit into the apple, uncertain what to expect. It tasted as sweet as honey, and the flesh was firm. “It’s pretty good,” he said, surprised at the discovery, and Aura smiled. She might have laughed, but she was waiting. He sobered and looked into her eyes. “Every single thing I have told you, Aura, is the absolute truth.” He reached for her hand and laced their fingers together, savoring the heat that built between their palms. “Let me love you.”

“You don’t want me to take a bite, too?”

“I trust you.”

“And I trust you,” Aura replied with a smile. She leaned closer and bit into the apple, her gaze locked with his. Her smile broadened, then turned mischievous. “Let’s satisfy the firestorm,” she murmured and Thad’s heart leapt.


“I don’t see any reason to rush,” he whispered, then bent to kiss her cheek. Her skin was so soft and her perfume tempted him as none other could. He heard her catch her breath and yet again, his heart matched its pace to hers. The firestorm flared with a predictability that warmed his heart as well as everything else. He closed his eyes and kissed her earlobe, loving how her heart skipped in response. “How long do you think we can endure the firestorm’s burn?” he whispered.

“I don’t know,” she murmured in reply and Thad melted at the brush of her lips across his own cheek. “But I’m willing to find out.”

They were in perfect agreement about that.

* * *

The Slayer Jorge despised darkfire.

He had never been the kind of dragon who allowed others to control his choices, and having this incomprehensible force fling him through time and space did not suit Jorge’s agenda at all. He had tried to make the most of being cast into the ancient world, after being dragged into the depths of the earth by Pele during Brandon’s firestorm. That journey had ended badly for him at Delphi, with another sojourn in fathomless darkness before the darkfire had appeared again. He would have liked to have ignored the blue-green spark that beckoned him onward, but darkfire had gotten him into trouble and Jorge reasoned only darkfire could get him out of it.

He didn’t trust the garden. He didn’t trust it one increment more than he trusted the darkfire. There were no humans in the vicinity of the garden, which seemed to be hidden in a mountain pass, so he had no idea why he was there. There was no one to victimize or use for his own purposes, which made the garden a wasteland in Jorge’s view. He took the form of a salamander and sulked over the injustice of his situation in the shade of rock.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there when he felt the spark of a firestorm. He brightened at that, because a firestorm meant there’d be at least one human within proximity. Since he blamed the Pyr for many of his woes, Jorge liked the idea of taking out his frustrations on an enamored dragon shifter. Assassinating the mate of a Pyr would be a perfect way to improve his mood.

He smiled when he smelled the Pyr. It was one of the Dragon’s Tooth Warriors, unless Jorge missed his guess. They had a distinctive scent about them, one that was evocative of the past yet not dusty or rotten. They were less readily distinguished from each other than their modern counterparts, but had firestorms all the same.

He couldn’t smell the mate, even when he saw the shadow of the Pyr in question descending into the garden in dragon form, the heat of the firestorm illuminating him brilliantly.

Jorge crept out from the shade of his rock, cautious but curious.

If a salamander’s eyes could widen in shock, those of the golden yellow salamander that was Jorge would have done so.

Because he suddenly caught a whiff of Viv Jason, the so-called ally of the Slayer Chen. She was here, and he could smell the heat of her fury.

Had the darkfire snared her, as well?

Surely, she couldn’t be this Pyr’s destined mate?

Jorge had to know for sure.