The Dragon Legion Collection

Chapter Three



Petra felt alive again.

It was a strange, intoxicating feeling, and one that was more than welcome. She tingled. She felt warm. She could feel her heart beating and the blood coursing through her veins. She was keenly aware of Damien, not just because of his kiss, and recalled all the pleasures they’d shared.

She wanted to experience them again.

It was because Damien had kissed her. She’d forgotten the little glimmer of hazel in his eyes, the way his eyes looked so seductive after he’d kissed her, the little smile that quirked the corner of his mouth. She’d forgotten how strong and sure he felt, how safe she felt in his embrace.

She’d forgotten just how good it had been between them. Just as before, his kiss confused her thinking, made her forget everything except the power that drew them together. One taste of him only left her hungry for more.

What if she’d been right the first time and destiny was on their side?

They couldn’t have long to make amends. Petra guessed the influence of Damien’s touch upon her in this realm was temporary, just as the shedding of his blood would only allow him to communicate with the dead for a short period of time. She knew this newfound vitality would fade, but she wanted to make the most of it while it lasted.

The most incredible thing was that she’d felt the baby move.

Petra had chosen to take the ferry because of her dawning conviction that something was wrong with her son. He’d become still in the womb and as the days passed and her labor didn’t begin, she’d been afraid. She had no experience of childbirth and no one to talk to—after the turned-to-stone incident, the villagers had kept their distance. She’d decided that she had to be with the Mothers and on the third day that the baby had been still in her belly, she’d left. He’d been still ever since.

Until Damien had kissed her.

Petra already doubted her recent impression. It couldn’t be possible. The baby was dead, just as she was.

And yet, and yet, Petra didn’t feel dead anymore. Her skin didn’t look as if she were dead. What if her son could be saved? The prospect was enticing. What if Damien could take him back to the world of the living? She couldn’t deny her son that chance, yet she had to somehow ensure that Damien could be relied upon not to abandon his infant son just as he’d once abandoned her.

She heard Damien following her, that familiar purpose in his step. The measured sound of his footfalls made her smile. He was relentless in pursuit of a goal. He had an agenda and he would stick to it. She liked his kind of determination, even if he did sometimes infuriate her enough that she called him stubborn.

In bed, she’d called him persistent. She bit back her widening smile before Damien saw it. He had been an amazing lover, but the last thing this dragon needed was encouragement or anything that would feed his confidence.

“Petra, we have to talk about this...”

He was right.

Maybe for the wrong reason, but he was still right.

Petra spun to face Damien, seeing his expression turn wary at her unexpected move. She lifted a hand and that blue-green spark flickered at the end of her fingertip, just as the brilliant orange light of the firestorm had once lit between them. She reached toward him, and the spark jumped, illuminating a brilliant arc of light before it exploded against his chest. He blinked and took a half-step back, as if startled by the impact, then kept walking toward her.

“What’s the light?” Petra asked.

He tried to dismiss the question. “What difference does it make? We need to talk about getting out of here...”

Petra was sure the spark was part of that. “This light is drawing us together. It led me to the gates and it’s awakening memories. I feel like it’s trying to remind us how good it was.”

“Before you tried to kill me,” Damien noted. He paused before her and smiled slightly as he looked down at the glow of blue-green becoming brighter between them. “Except you didn’t, really.”

Petra smiled at him and their gazes clung for a long hot moment.

“Is it part of your plan to win my compliance?”

“As if it could be so easy,” Damien murmured, his tone rueful, then smiled at her. He winked at her, clearly not disliking that they argued so much, and Petra’s pulse skipped. “Darkfire is beyond my control,” he said then and she believed him. “It seems to be mimicking the firestorm.”

“Does it usually?”

“No.”

“It’s a different color.” Petra had to admit that its effect upon her was similar. She felt edgy, excited, filled with a desire and even more aware of Damien than she had been before. She was watching the curve of his mouth, the glint in his eye, the way he moved and spoke. She ran her tongue over her lips without meaning to do so and tasted the sweetness of his kiss again, felt herself burn with wanting.


Damien’s gaze met hers and Petra couldn’t look away. She couldn’t swallow and she couldn’t breathe. Her heart was pounding and her skin was heating.

It was a wonderful feeling that left her yearning for more.

“What is darkfire?” she asked.

“It’s a force associated with the Pyr, but an unpredictable one.” Damien’s brows drew together as he tried to explain it. Yet again, Petra appreciated that he had never disguised the truth about himself or his kind from her, and had never compromised an explanation. “It’s said to create possibility where there was none and turn assumptions upside down.”

“Magic,” Petra whispered, watching the light grow, and feeling the answering desire within her multiply.

“Chaos,” Damien said.

“Second chances?” Petra guessed.

“Some think so.”

“And you?”

“I think it opens doors that were closed.” He shrugged. “For better or for worse.”

“Like the gates of the underworld.”

Damien nodded. Petra’s hand fell to her ripe belly as the baby moved.

When Damien watched her gesture, Petra surveyed him. He was changing somehow. The blood in the cloth he’d tied around his leg was darker. Where she’d struck him, the skin had bruised, but now looked oddly dark. Maybe it was that the rest of his complexion looked so pale. Maybe he was dying because he was in the underworld or maybe he’d given some of his life force to her. Either way, he didn’t look as vital anymore and she didn’t want him to be trapped here like her. She feared they were running out of time and didn’t want his quest to fail.

Not now that her son was moving again.

“If we have a second chance, that means we made a mistake,” she said. “That means we have an opportunity to choose differently.”

Damien folded his arms across his chest. “I believed I was right to leave you.”

He looked so self-assured that Petra could have decked him again. “I just explained to you why I did what I did, that I did it for you.”

“It wasn’t up to you to try to save me,” he replied, as stubborn as ever.

“We conceived a son together. We were partners.”

“No,” he insisted. “It was my task to protect you...”

“Would you say that to another Pyr who saved you from danger?”

Damien was visibly startled. “Of course not, but they’re not women...”

“And they’re not Earthdaughters,” Petra replied, interrupting an argument that wouldn’t do anything to improve her mood. “We had an opportunity to work together, Damien, to create something wonderful, but you were too afraid to take a chance.”

“It’s not the same. A Pyr must defend his mate, as the most precious jewel in his hoard...”

As much as Petra liked his choice of language, she had to get to the bottom of this. “And if she has the ability to defend him, she should let him die?”

He was apparently so startled by this idea that he didn’t know what to say.

“Your powers have abandoned you in this realm,” Petra reminded him. “Your ability to influence me will fade. When your blood dries, we will lose the ability to communicate, and you may lose your chance to leave this place. If you let any substance cross your lips, you will be trapped here forever.”

“Stories,” Damien said, glancing about himself with obvious concern.

“They carry the grain of truth. Your skin is changing color. You are fading.”

Damien scanned himself in alarm.

“Damien, we have a chance to change the future. We always did have that chance, but your darkfire is making it possible again. The key lies in trust.”

Damien nodded and she loved how he listened to her. “You believed in the firestorm’s promise, right from the beginning.”

“I was waiting for a man like you.” Petra smiled. “The Pyr aren’t the only ones with prophecies, you know.”

“The firestorm is just about creating more Pyr...”

“Then why did you stay three months?”

Damien exhaled. “I didn’t intend to,” he admitted, his eyes lighting. “But you were unlike any woman I’d ever known.”

“And now you know why.” He parted his lips to ask for more but Petra held up a finger in warning. It was time for him to choose. “We need to find our way out of here, but I need to know that you will try again.”

“How?”

“What I want is partnership with you, otherwise my son stays here with me. Decide now.”



* * *



Damien considered Petra and weighed his options. What she was suggesting was much like the relationships the Pyr in the future formed with their mates. He thought of their conviction that the whole was greater than the sum of the parts. He remembered their certainty that a Pyr couldn’t really be complete without his mate by his side.

He thought of how they healed their scales—and why they lost a scale in the first place.

Being with Petra reminded him how powerful their time together had been—and made Damien realize he’d missed her.

Maybe his relentless pursuit of women ever since had been an attempt to regain what he’d lost.

No wonder that was so dissatisfying. There was no one else like Petra.

Could he trust her, without knowing all of her abilities?

When he didn’t answer her immediately, she began to turn away, her disappointment clear. He didn’t blame her, but he didn’t want her to go either.

“Is it too late to ask what you can do?” he asked, halfway expecting her to ignore him.

But Petra never was vengeful, no matter how angry she was. She paused and glanced back at him, a tantalizing smile curving her lips. “It’s never too late to ask,” she whispered. The look in her eyes pierced Damien’s heart like an arrow, and he took a step closer without even realizing what he’d done. “It’s never too late to forgive, and it’s never too late to try again.”

Damien smiled. “That sounds like part of a story.”

Petra smiled and the sight of her pleasure made him realize everything he’d risked and lost.

“Then, show me,” he said, knowing he’d beg if he had to. “Please.”

“You mean it,” she said, with undisguised delight.

Damien nodded and Petra immediately tipped her head back.

She was beautiful, so strong and feminine. It made sense for her to use her powers to defend him, just as he used his to defend her. It was different from his expectations, but was logical when he considered it.

Did they have more in common than he’d imagined? Was that why she captivated him so thoroughly?

It was an enticing possibility. Damien knew that no woman had ever challenged him as much as Petra—and none had ever satisfied him so well either.

As he watched, a rosy glow rolled over Petra’s body, like the sunrise touching the lip of the earth, and his heart skipped. Her body looked firmer and more solid, and her movements became impossibly slow. She breathed only once for each dozen breaths he took and he could almost have believed that she’d turned to stone. Her eyes opened slowly, their brown color replaced by the simmering orange of a volcano’s heat, and the glow around her body brightened. She looked so fearsome and powerful that Damien fought the urge to take a step back.

It was when the snakes began to erupt from beneath her feet that he remembered he’d lost his ability to become a dragon.


He was powerless in a strange realm and he knew it.

But Damien was resolute. There could be no greater test of his trust in Petra, and he was determined not to sacrifice the firestorm’s promise again.



* * *



Petra dared to hope.

She’d known all her life that she wouldn’t find happiness with a mortal man. That was the curse of her kind. But she’d always hoped that she would be one Earthdaughter who found a man with his own powers. When she’d met Damien, she’d imagined that future with him, one filled with love and trust. It had been devastating to learn that he was afraid of her.

She’d made a mistake by reacting in anger.

They had a second chance and he was willing to see the truth.

Even given that, Petra had concerns about showing him the fullness of her powers, lest she frighten him again. There would be no third chance.

Yet the truth offered the only way forward. Damien had to see it all, trust her, and still love her, or she’d never be able to put her hand in his again.

At least he was willing to try.

She had to meet him in the middle. That was the essence of partnership.

Petra closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, turning her thoughts inward. Deep in the core of her mind was a place of stone and rock, a center that couldn’t be moved. It was her anchor and her sanctuary, her source of confidence that the world would be as it always had been.

Because there always would be Earthdaughters, and they would keep custody of Gaia and her legacy. Petra had thought that she and Damien had common ground in this, so to speak, since the Pyr were the guardians of the earth and the custodians of the elements. She’d expected them to understand each other.

Maybe this was their chance to do so.

The key might lie in the prophecy, the one she’d heard only once and didn’t recall. As the power built within her, Petra realized that her dragon warrior would remember every word of the prophecy given to him.

Dragons had long memories, after all.

First things first.

The kernel within Petra grew as she bent her attention upon it. There was a connection established between the relatively quick rhythm of her human body and the unhurried cycle of the earth. She felt her heart slow and her breathing become shallow. Her muscles became more rigid and her movements were imperceptible. She stood outside of time as she knew it, answerable to the wind and the rain, and the years.

And then she hummed.

The hum began deep in her chest, growing gradually in volume until her sternum vibrated in time. She felt the resonance slip through her body and coaxed it to build. She felt the ground beneath her feet start to vibrate as well, felt the fissures in the stone open into gaps, felt the ground crack and shake. She felt the creatures of darkness come to her, the snakes rising in the earth, the moles and voles and bats that took shelter in Gaia’s embrace, the spiders that lurked in the dark chinks between stones.

The power rolled through her, as ancient and powerful as that of Gaia herself, and Petra was glad to have no secrets from Damien any longer. He would see, he would know, and he would still love her. She believed because she had to. It was their shared destiny and she would make it come true. Petra roared, the sound of an earthquake bursting from her mouth, and the earth jumped in sympathy with her triumph.

Suddenly she felt her son go still.

Too still.

The baby was like a rock in her belly again, a leaden weight that felt wrong and horrible. It was just as he had been before she’d taken the ferry. Not again!

Petra gasped, even as her hands fell protectively to her stomach. She couldn’t have to pay this price. She spun in place, turning her back on Damien for fear that he would see her reaction. He was perceptive, thanks to his inner dragon, and she only wanted to hide this fear from him. It was kinder if he never realized his presence in this realm had awakened his son, better if he believed the child lost all along.

But Petra was distraught. She folded herself around her belly, whispering to her unborn son, even as she forced her power to retreat.

The underworld came into focus again, but Petra didn’t know where she was. A deadened plain stretched in every direction.

She had time to fear, then her son kicked hard. In fact, Petra was winded by his powerful kick. It was as if he wanted her to have no doubt that he was alive.

Alive. Petra felt tears on her cheeks. She glanced over her shoulder at Damien, intending to tell him the truth this time.

But her dragon warrior was gone.

Petra was alone in the underworld, no sign of a living being in any direction.



* * *



Damien was determined to face Petra’s truth.

Even with snakes.

He swallowed when Petra’s eyes burned with brilliant light and refused to think that she could smite a man with a glance. She looked powerful and immovable and he felt the ground vibrate beneath his feet in response to her summons. He knew she could create an earthquake and an avalanche, and he told himself to believe in her. He knew he should trust her, just as she’d trusted him, and he believed her claim that she could control her powers.

Even so, he felt sweat on his brow when the snakes erupted from the ground and slithered around her feet. They were black and glossy vipers, long and thick and sinuous. Damien swallowed as they began to wind over her body, as if they couldn’t get close enough to her. His heart pounded when the fissures opened in the earth, radiating from her body in response to her low cry.

When the darkfire sparked all around Petra, he was concerned but resolute.

He gripped his dagger and waited, ignoring the way the darkfire shone off the scales of the snakes. He refused to think of how numerous they were. He refused to think of his own safety, or the fact that he couldn’t shift shape to defend himself. His fate was in Petra’s hands, and the earth was crumbling on all sides.

Her gaze blazed into his own, daring him to trust her, and Damien did.

Then she gave a cry of horror and stepped back. He reached for her as she spun away, but his fingers only brushed the cloth of her tunic. The ground crumbled on all sides of him, dissolving beneath his feet with terrifying speed.

Damien screamed as he fell.

He fell into an abyss, one filled with darkness, the glint of darkfire, and a thousand hissing snakes. There was nothing to grab but the snakes that fell with him, no way to save himself, and he had no ability to shift shape.

He tried.

Over and over and over again.

Damien landed on a rocky patch of dirt, the impact hard enough to steal the breath from his lungs. He closed his eyes in horror at the sound of snakes landing on the ground all around him. When he looked, some of them were still wriggling, while others had slithered away. It was still twilight, although there were no stars.

There was no sign of Petra.

Damien sat up with caution. Where had the darkfire cast him now?

He was in a deadened forest, silence on every side. The trees were barren of leaves, their branches stretched upward, as if straining toward a sun that never lit this realm. Even though their boughs were empty, it was darker within the ghostly forest and more still. It was colder even than the rest of the underworld and Damien shivered. The bark of the trees was grey, more like stone than wood.

Fear slid down Damien’s spine.

There was fog near the ground, a fog that became denser with every passing moment. It sent a chill through him and he noticed that there was no spark of darkfire in the pale haze.

He didn’t trust its absence.

Damien heard a rustling and spun to defend himself, his dagger at the ready.

There was no one behind him, just a tree.

He might have turned away but he saw a contorted face in the trunk of the tree. A person was trapped inside, silently screaming for a release that would never come.


Damien backed away, not trusting his own eyes. His back collided with another tree, and he spun to find another anguished face just behind his shoulder. He ran from tree to tree, realizing there were people trapped in every one.

Frozen forever.

And Damien was engulfed in a memory he’d have preferred to forget.



* * *



Damien was returning to Petra after a quick trip to Delphi, the teasing of his fellow warriors echoing in his thoughts. What if he was falling in love? Damien couldn’t think of a woman more likely to fascinate him forever than his Petra.

He hurried, shifting shape and flying over the mountains to save time. Even though he didn’t bring the best news, he wanted to be with Petra sooner. His journey had gone as planned and he was striding out of the hills, in human form, by twilight.

Damien was tired and dusty, hungry but ready to see his lady again. Three days away had been too long. He was anticipating an evening before the hearth, savoring Petra’s kisses and her laughter. He didn’t care if there was only dry bread to eat. Her company would be enough. He imagined a long night in bed, of sharing kisses and confessions. He loved how their son was making her figure more full and her features more soft.

They had stopped in a village when Petra became ill with her pregnancy and had lived there several weeks. It was small but not too small—they could be overlooked in its confines, but also recognized. He and Petra kept to themselves, always paid promptly and in full, and were courteous. Although Damien didn’t like to remain in one place for long, he’d reconciled himself to remaining here until his son was born.

But it looked different on this night. To Damien’s astonishment, there was a forest where the village should be. He stopped and stared, doubting the evidence of his eyes. No, the forest had filled the village, for the houses were still there. Damien couldn’t make sense of it. He walked closer, cautious as he tried to determine a reason for the change.

It was quiet, too quiet. He strained his ears but could only hear the crackle of a single fire on a hearth. He knew it was in the courtyard of the house he shared with Petra. There was only stillness, other than the breath of the wind, and the motion he could hear from their home. Petra was there, bustling around as usual, as if in anticipation of his return.

But where had these trees come from? What had happened to the village? There was usually some activity, even until dark.

Damien realized the trees had no branches. They were more like pillars, or trees that had been sawn off at about his height. He had a very bad feeling as he stepped into this strange forest, although he couldn’t have named the reason why.

Then he saw the first face and realized the truth.

They weren’t trees: they were people.

He reached out and touched one, shocked to find the man as cold and hard as stone. It was the farmer who lived beside them. There was his wife next to him, similarly immobilized. Though they couldn’t move, their eyes were filled with accusation. Damien touched another and another, then realized they’d been enchanted and turned to stone.

He thought of the prophecy that had just been given to him and feared for Petra.

He ran to their home, flinging open the door and bursting into the central courtyard.

Petra turned to smile at him in welcome. She was fine, much to his relief, humming as she stirred a pot of stew that was set over the fire. He stood shaking in the doorway but she smiled, as if nothing was wrong at all.

“I thought you would return tonight,” she said easily. “I kept the stew warm for you.” He realized that she was completely different from his mother. There was no demand in her expectation, no need. On another night, he might have been relieved, for his mother had nearly destroyed his father.

On this night, he was cautious.

How could she not know what was outside these walls?

Petra came to him and kissed his cheek, catching his hand in hers and giving it a slight tug. “You must be tired. Come and sit and tell me what you’ve seen.”

“Have you been out?” Damien demanded, for that could be the only explanation for her calm manner.

“Yes. Why?”

He stopped and stared at her. “Didn’t you see?

She glanced at him quickly, something in her eyes made him believe she knew exactly what he meant. “See what?”

“All of the village is turned to stone!”

Petra wrinkled her nose. “Oh. Yes.” She stirred the stew. “Are you hungry?”

“Wait!” Damien seized her arm, compelling her to face him. “How can you be so indifferent? Do you know something about this? Are you responsible for this in some way?”

Petra’s eyes narrowed slightly. “What makes you think that?”

“You’re the only one who isn’t enchanted.”

“I’m the only one who’s pregnant,” she said lightly, her gaze locking with his. “But you’re right. I’m also the only one who is an Earthdaughter.” She said this as if it were perfectly routine, but Damien didn’t know what she meant.

He felt a terrible dread. He remembered his father’s warning that being bound to a single woman could only lead to sorrow and a loss of powers. He thought of the prophecy he’d just been given, the one that said much the same thing. Was Drake’s summons to serve offering him an escape just in time?

“What’s an Earthdaughter?” he asked, trying to keep his voice level. If she’d turned the villagers to stone, there was no reason she couldn’t do the same to him.

Making the prophecy come true. What of the rest of it? Would it all come true? Damien had tried to dismiss the dire prediction, but now he couldn’t.

“You’re not the only one with powers in this household, Damien.” Petra spoke in a practical tone, as if they discussed the weather. She smiled at him slightly. “I wish I could have found another way to tell you, but in the end, there was no choice.” She shrugged and began to ladle out some stew for him. “It was really only a matter of time before you knew and now you do.”

Damien wanted her to say it aloud. “You did this to them?”

“Yes.” She was unrepentant, which angered Damien as little else could have done.

“How could you do such a thing? And why? There is nothing they could have done to you to merit such treatment...”

“Nothing?” she asked, lifting her chin with a familiar defiance.

“Nothing!” Damien replied. “Don’t you think I deserved to know about your powers before we conceived my son?”

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. “I didn’t know about all of your powers before that happy deed was done.”

“It’s not the same!”

“It’s exactly the same. You’re more than human and so am I. Frankly, I thought that we’d understand each other as a result.”

“No!” Damien paced the central courtyard of the house. “This is all wrong.” He paced the courtyard, then pivoted to face her. “You might as well know. I have to leave and I might not be back.”

Petra looked shaken. “I beg your pardon?”

“I’ve been called to duty.” Damien didn’t feel as much regret as he had just moments ago. He knew that Petra saw the truth in his eyes. “I have to go.”

Her lips set. “When will you be back?”

“I don’t know.” He swallowed then said it. “Maybe never.”

She held his gaze for a long potent moment. “You’re just fabricating an excuse, because you’re afraid of what I can do.”


Damien didn’t know what to say to that, but Petra didn’t give him much time to think.

“Did you get your prophecy, at least?” she asked.

Damien took a deep breath and recited the oracle’s pronouncement:



A lost child mourned for many years

A mother who will shed no tears

A dragon warrior turned to stone

A woman abandoned, all alone.

Firestorm’s promise will fade to naught

Until stone and fire pay death’s cost.

After a Pyr sacrifice is made

Destiny’s promise can be claimed.



“Cheerful,” Petra said tightly. Her displeasure was a palpable force. “So, you’re leaving, because I obviously am the person who can turn you to stone and your son isn’t going to survive anyway.”

“I don’t want it to be true, Petra.”

She gave him a hot look. “Then you could ask some questions. You could try to find the hidden truth of the prophecy. They often have double meanings, as I’m sure you know.”

“No,” Damien said, shaking his head. “No. This time, the prophecy is as clear as can be. I’m sorry, Petra. I wanted to believe in the firestorm.”

“Not enough to fight for it,” she replied, her tone hard.

He knew she was right. He also knew that given his upbringing and his father’s end, the prophecy and his call to duty, that there was no other answer. He’d been honest with her, but felt she’d deceived him. Repairing the damage would take time, time they didn’t have, and a sacrifice he was unwilling to make.

Their gazes locked and held for a charged moment, and Damien noted the slight rounding of Petra’s belly. He couldn’t believe she would lose their son, not when she looked so healthy in her pregnancy, but he couldn’t accept what she had done. If he remained with her, even for one night, it would be an endorsement of her deed.

“What will you do?” he asked.

She shrugged, pretending to be indifferent when he knew she wasn’t. “I can’t imagine you care.” Her tone was hurt and he felt guilt at his role in that.

“I do.”

She turned away then took the pot off the tripod over the fire. He’d never seen her cry and that convinced him that she was the mother of the prophecy.

“I’ll go to the Mothers if I need to,” she said, surprising him. He’d never heard her refer to a home or a family.

“But the prophecy...”

She turned on him, her eyes blazing, and he took a step back at the sign of her anger. She seemed to be more than a woman in this moment, and he was sure he felt the ground quaking beneath his feet.

What was an Earthdaughter?

“I don’t believe your prophecy,” Petra declared. “I refuse to believe that my son is as good as dead just because some woman in a grotto uttered a verse.” She jabbed her finger at her own chest. “I will believe in his safe arrival. I will believe in his good health. And I will do everything in my power to give him exactly what he needs.”

Damien might have been chastened, but those people turned to stone just steps away couldn’t be forgotten. Petra’s stern tone and his uncertainty about her powers made him fear the mother of his child. “I don’t think I want to know what ‘everything in your power’ might mean.”

She smiled coolly. “No, you’re just a dragon. Run away, Pyr warrior, if that’s so much easier than trusting in me.”

Damien was offended. “It’s not easy to trust someone with hidden powers...”

“And it’s not easy to believe in love. I thought you were more than a man, not less than one, but you’re afraid.” Petra straightened and glared at him, her expression filled with challenge.

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then stay and see what I am.” Her eyes were bright with challenge and there was a rosy glow surrounding her body. Damien wanted to stay and see her truth, just to prove her expectation wrong.

But when the ground rumbled beneath his feet, he shifted shape instinctively, taking flight in his dragon form. He hovered in the courtyard, but Petra stopped her humming and shook her head. She spat on the ground beneath him, her disgust clear. “Run away, dragon. I’ll wait for a man bold enough to love me.”

Damien knew he could have melted Petra’s resistance with a touch, but he didn’t want to reconcile. The idea that he could be mated with the woman who would destroy him was too real a possibility for him to try to stay. He’d watched his father’s powers ebb away to nothing, leaving him a shell of a dragon. And there hadn’t been a prophecy. He’d never be able to sleep again in Petra’s presence.

He gave her one last look, yearning for what he had believed to be true of her, then flew high in the sky. He flew over the strange frozen company of villagers before beating his wings hard to ascend over the hills.

He’d always said he’d never fall in love. He’d always said he’d never surrender his future to one woman. He’d fulfilled his firestorm and very nearly succumbed, but had escaped the consequences in time. Damien told himself he had done the right thing, that his son couldn’t be saved, that the oracle was right.

But Petra’s disgust echoed in his ears and his heart.

Little did he know then that it always would.



Damien came to a breathless halt in the endless forest. He was panting and winded, feeling an exhaustion that wasn’t characteristic of him. He looked down to see his leg was turning black. His toes were numb. The rest of his skin was becoming pale.

Petra was right. Time was running out.

He spun to examine the grey trees. They were just trees now, trees without human faces or captives, and he wondered if his eyes had deceived him.

He swallowed, knowing the prophecy had deceived him. There had never been a woman who had made him feel as powerful and alive as Petra, never a woman who surprised him and captivated as she had done.

He realized that even though he’d left her, against every inclination of his heart, he’d still been turned to stone.

Damien had gone on that mission with Drake and the others, the quest to oust one of their own kind. They’d followed a dark trail into the depths of the earth, the evil spell of the viper wafting into their ears. Many had their hearts turned against their true intention. Others fell back, unable to continue. The trail had led those who could endure the viper’s chant to one of their own.

Cadmus.

And in the battle to defeat him, those who fought at Drake’s back had been enchanted.

Turned to stone.

And trapped for centuries.

The prophecy had come true, but not due to Petra’s powers. Damien was ashamed that he had assumed the worst of her on that day, that he hadn’t asked for an explanation or given her a chance. He’d acted foolishly and couldn’t blame Petra for her anger.

But according to that same prophecy, once each obstacle was confronted, their firestorm would have a chance of a future.

He had to find Petra and change her mind.

At the very least, he owed her an apology.

To his relief, he saw a woman’s silhouette ahead. She was standing on the periphery of the strange forest, her back to him. He shouted Petra’s name, but she didn’t seem to hear him. She didn’t turn around, even when he ran toward her. He called her name repeatedly as he ran closer, then touched her shoulder.

When the woman turned, Damien realized he’d made a mistake.

It wasn’t Petra.

This woman was hideously ugly and ancient, as well. Her face was lined and cracked, like an exposed rock. Her long dark hair was actually hundreds of small black snakes, their eyes bright and their tongues flicking. Bat wings stretched high behind her back and she bared her teeth, showing her fangs. Worse, blood ran from her eyes in a stream of red tears, sliding into the crevasses in her skin.


He tried to shift, again without success.

The monster lunged for Damien, her nails like yellowed talons. She screamed, and made a cry like a bird being strangled. Damien saw her forked tongue and smelled her foul breath as she fell against him. She was heavy and strong, intent upon attacking him.

Damien pulled his dagger and buried it in her chest without hesitation. She fell back with a cry, blood flowing from the wound, then attacked again. Was she immortal? Or dead already? Damien feared the odds were in her favor, especially as he felt his own strength fading. He knew he was fighting for his life, and he was determined to win.

Being trapped in the underworld forever wasn’t the future he envisioned with Petra and his son.

The fight was vicious and seemed to last a lifetime.

Finally, the monster was motionless on the ground, lying in a pool of her own blood. Damien stood over her, watching for her to make another move, his heart racing. He was bleeding from a dozen wounds, exhausted and hungry. He stared down at the fallen creature until he felt someone’s presence behind him.

He spun, his dagger at the ready, only to find Petra behind him.

“For the love of Zeus,” she whispered, her horror clear as she looked at the corpse. “What have you done?”