Chapter Three

Ogun Zheng sat casually in the antique French chair in his study, fingers steepled beneath his chin as he waited for the information he’d asked for.

The man in front of him, the Alpha of the Alaz Enforcer team, had better have more than a dead end. As one of the members of the Alliance, representing the Green Clan, Ogun had no intention of failing the kings and clans who depended on him and the other council members to govern the Americas colony.

“The trail has gone cold,” Tineen stated with a cold straightforwardness.

Ogun Zheng stared the man down, barely concealing his sneer of displeasure. “Explain.”

The black dragon shifter didn’t even blink under his gaze, but Ogun had no doubt he felt his irritation just the same. “We found a cabin in the Montana woods with a faint trace of Sera Morrison’s scent,” Tineen reported. “We also scented Aidan Paytah and Rune Abaddon. However, the trail from there was erratic, leading south. About twenty kilometers away, we discovered ashes.”

“Remains?”

Ogun sat forward, gripping the arms of the chair. Golden sunlight spilled in through the two-story windows that gave him one of the best views in the Alliance’s headquarters. The snow-dusted Rocky Mountains rose in jagged peaks, pine trees like the bristles on an unshaven chin scattered across them, broken periodically by bursts of yellow aspen groves.

He’d brought Tineen here today to close out matters relating to Sera Morrison, the dragon mate he’d been so sure was intended for High King Pytheios thanks to the mark on the back of her neck. The Rotting King of the Red Clan desperately needed to find his mate. He needed her to stop his rate of decay and elongate his life. That he wasn’t dead yet was already a miracle.

Except Sera had disappeared before they could send her to Pytheios. When she disappeared, so did Aidan Paytah, an orphan-turned-Huracán Enforcer who’d insisted he was her fate, not Pytheios. An unworthy man for a new dragon mate. Laughable.

No trace of those involved in Sera’s disappearance was unacceptable at best.

Tineen’s long tapered fingers tapped out an erratic rhythm on his own armrest. The tall, broad black dragon shifter kept moving like he couldn’t get comfortable in the high-backed chair meant for humans much smaller than he. “We believe the ashes to be the remains of Titus Nar.”

Ogun frowned, thinking. Absently, he fingered a long, slender scar along the side of his neck, a habit since he’d acquired it over a thousand years prior. “Titus was the one to lose Sera to Rune in the first place.”

He murmured the words more to himself than Tineen, who sat across Ogun’s mahogany desk table regarding him with lifeless gunmetal gray eyes. Ogun held in his impatience. “Do we think Rune killed Titus?”

Tineen regarded him blandly. “Impossible to say.”

Ogun stilled, irritation snapping over his skin like ants crawling over him. All of these Huracán Enforcers turning rogue, dying, stealing mates. Could the rest of the team still be trusted?

“I suppose you want to be the one to bring that information to Mathai?” he asked Tineen. No telling how the leader of the Alliance Council would react to the news.

The other man’s fingers stopped their tapping. “I suggest further investigation before we bother Mathai.”

Ogun masked his annoyance with effort. The Alaz leader should be more scared of him than Mathai. The Green Clan was the closest to the Red Clan, thanks to proximity, and his king the most loyal to Pytheios. If the political situation continued, Ogun fully expected that he—not Mathai—would soon lead this council.

But he’d been playing the long game for centuries. A few more weeks or months wouldn’t matter either way.

“Do you have a plan?” he asked.

Based on the slight tension around the man’s eyes, Tineen didn’t appreciate the doubt that laced the question.

“I’ll send one of my men to the Huracáns’ region. I’d like him to inspect Rune’s most recent fire separately from their investigation.”

“The fire from this summer?”

Tineen nodded.

Excellent. Mathai may have given the Huracán team, and particularly their leader, Finn Conleth, leniency. Too much leniency in Ogun’s opinion. Especially in light of all that had happened recently—Finn’s brother Fallon running from his mating ceremony and joining with the new King of the Blue Clan, Finn’s own mating without permission or the Mating Council even being involved, and now the situations with both the Huracán team’s old Beta, Rune Abaddon, and with the new mate, Sera Morrison joining with that…that…orphan. Not to mention the suspiciously timed death of Titus Nah.

But Tineen was right. He’d need dirt on the team, evidence that they’d betrayed their oaths as enforcers, before he could go to Mathai with his suspicions.

“Send Nidhogg.” Ogun’s words weren’t a suggestion but an order, and he had the brief pleasure of pulling a small frowning response from the otherwise immovable Alpha across from him.

After witnessing Nidhogg torture members of the Huracán team when Sera had disappeared and they’d suspected the team’s involvement, Ogun trusted the Alaz enforcer. Nidhogg would follow every lead he could.

After a long, considering silence, Tineen nodded brusquely. “I’ll send him out tonight. He’ll be eager to determine if that team is as dirty as we suspect. Particularly Drake.”

Ogun tipped his head. “Why Drake?”

Tineen shrugged. “He was the only one who didn’t make a sound during Nidhogg’s interrogation.”

“As long as he doesn’t neglect looking into all of them, I don’t care if he has it out for Chandali.” Even if the man was some distant cousin of the High King.

Ogun stood to escort his guest out. “The others of your team, and the Alliance, need not know until he reports back. Understand?”

Tineen paused at the door. “Of course. I see this entire situation with the missing mate as my failure. I would prefer to give the Alliance justice.”

“Excellent. Report to me, and no one else.”

Tineen, and, indeed, Nidhogg, taking this personally meant the Alaz team would be motivated. Ogun held on to that kernel of information as something to possibly exploit down the road.

His instincts, which had never failed Ogun in his long life, couldn’t be wrong this time. Things didn’t add up with the enforcers set to guard the western third of the North American continent. If the Huracán team had anything to do with Rune or the situation with the mate, Sera—regardless of their “proof” of innocence otherwise—he’d be the first to declare them traitors and order their executions.

If Rune Abaddon was the sole perpetrator, well…he had already earned his eventual execution a hundred times over. As soon as they tracked him down.

…

Cami walked down the dimly lit hallway to the room one down from hers.

It had taken a while, but she was used to the place since coming here with Rune. Since lighting more and more fires until the curtains in her room had gone up fast, and she’d almost burned down their home, the only structure untouched by the wildfire, with her family in it. The next morning, she’d called the number on the card.

Those first weeks here had been about asking herself if she’d done the right thing coming here. She still asked herself that every day. Unfortunately, the glowing and, worse, the fires she sparked, had only continued to escalate. Until she could figure out a fix for that, she needed to be with the people who could help her keep those fires contained.

Inside the natural caverns formed deep within a mountain in the middle of the Andes range of Argentina, she’d made, if not a home, at least a safe haven for herself here among Rune and his men and the other women they sheltered.

Caverns that dragon shifters had, once upon a time, turned into corridors and rooms and a home—granted a weird, commune-ish, compound-ish sort of place. These were like no caverns she’d ever seen—outfitted like a massive bunker with sparsely furnished bedrooms, a training room, a kitchen of sorts, even a hangar. Not for planes, though.

They had only rudimentary services. Electricity was supplied by a massive generator, the constant humming filling the large spaces with a buzzing noise. In parts, they used actual freaking torches. Like a medieval castle. They did have running water, though the pipes followed the ceilings, rather than being built into the walls. Even though winter was on its way, snow already covering the towering mountain peaks around them, the caves maintained a steady temperature.

All in all, a cool place to live, actually, as life experiences went. No pun intended.

Though it didn’t make her situation suck any less. Missing her family had turned into a twenty-four seven ache in the region of the glowing spot over her heart.

Cami knocked on the door to the bedroom next to hers and let herself in without waiting to be invited. Skylar, the woman who stayed there, had a tendency to ignore anyone who knocked, even Rune. On sheer principle, Cami concluded. The woman seemed to have a serious beef with dragon shifters.

If she was meant to be a dragon mate, she’d have to get over that eventually. Months in this place, away from her family, learning all about her new “people” had taught Cami that much at least. Not that she, herself, was in any rush to worry about the mating situation. Other than putting a stop to her spontaneous fire setting.

“I’m dying of boredom.” She threw herself on the mattress on the floor that constituted Skylar’s bed. Like her own room, this was basically the only furniture. A shared bathroom and shower down the hall set the place up more like a dorm than apartments. “If they can get electricity into this place, you’d think they could at least get Netflix.”

Silence greeted her proclamation, and Cami pushed to her elbows to find Skylar staring at her. Based on the way she was sweating, her hands still raised in a defensive position, she’d been practicing her martial arts. Again. She did that a lot.

“What makes you think I care?” Skylar resumed her maneuvers, punching into the air in rhythmic bursts. Practiced combinations.

“Because you’re my friend.”

“Hell, no.” Skylar swung to face her, her long black braid swinging over one shoulder, and planted her hands on her hips. “No way.”

Only Cami caught the small flinch the other woman tried to hide. She’d seen that same expression before. The day they met. Like the world had stolen something precious from Skylar and damned if she was going to let that happen again.

“You only talk to Rune and the…um…older gentleman,” Cami insisted. She hadn’t learned his name yet. “You need a friend.”

That earned her a snort. “Nope.” Skylar resumed her training.

“Well, then, I need a friend.”

After growing up with a large family sharing their small goat ranch, being here reminded her sharply of college where she didn’t fit in anywhere. She’d gone away only to come home a year later, terribly homesick. She’d opted, instead, to finish her degree online and through a local college much closer to home.

It wasn’t the dragons. That…fit. Like her soul had known all along she was meant to be more. The problem was being far from home. This… Being away when they needed her. Knowing that returning home put them at risk. This was way worse than college.

“Why me?” Skylar didn’t bother to pause in her actions to ask.

“Why not?” Cami shot back.

In truth, most of the other women here had already formed their cliques. They’d been nice enough, so maybe it was just Cami, but she hadn’t bonded with them at all. Besides, Cami appreciated Skylar’s bluntness. She didn’t have to worry about Skylar’s reasons or secret opinions, because she said everything outright. Plus, the woman wasn’t remotely scared of Rune, whereas most of the other women were intimidated at the least.

“I meant it,” Skylar insisted. “Why me?”

Cami sighed. “Because I trust you.”

Skylar flubbed a jump kick. “Damn,” she muttered.

Cami couldn’t tell if the expletive was for the kick or what she’d just said.

Skylar turned to face Cami again, hands on her hips, her striking white-blue eyes, which reminded Cami of pictures of icebergs and glaciers, assessing. “Ever learned to fight?”

Cami raised her eyebrows. “I can handle myself in a bar, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“No. I mean learned a style—boxing, Karate, Taekwondo, Krav Maga, anything like that?”

“No.”

Skylar gave a sharp nod. “If you’re going to be a dragon shifter, once you find your mate, then you’d better learn.”

“Ummm…” That did not sound good.

Skylar lifted a single eyebrow. “You think giant flying lizards who spew fire are going to be easy?”

Fair point. She was living in a cave with a bunch of men who turned into dragons. Definitions like good and bad, easy and hard, had become a gray area in her life. Cami shrugged. “I’m still waiting to see.”

Skylar’s expression didn’t change, but Cami got the impression she’d rolled her eyes just the same. “I suggest you take a more proactive approach,” she said.

Cami considered the other woman. She tended to wear clothing obviously meant for combat—black, with lots of pockets and zips, and skintight—showing off muscles honed over time. Cami had no doubt this woman could take on a dragon shifter—or whatever else was out there that they hadn’t told Cami about yet—and win. Given her attitude, Skylar would probably enjoy smashing one of those guys to a pulp.

Except the older one. Tyrek. Not that Cami had seen much of him. He steered clear almost as much as Skylar.

“If you hate them so much, why do you stay?”

Rune had given them all choices. Not easy ones. Spewing flame meant they needed help from those who could control it. Wanting a say in their mating meant staying hidden. So here they were. Not prisoners, exactly, but Skylar acted like she was.

The other women here seemed…content, happy even…to have found this life. Granted, most of them also had no family, no other place to go. Cami’s situation was different. Harder, because of her family. Maybe Skylar’s was, too.

For a moment, Skylar softened, turned more human instead of a man-eating robot. Her lips tightened and real sorrow that had Cami regretting the question reflected in her bright eyes. “I’m not like you.”

Cami frowned. “What? Not a mate?”

“Not exactly.”

“What are you?”

But the human moment passed, and Skylar’s features hardened. “The less you know about me, the better for both of us.”

Interesting. Cami decided not to pry. Living with a large, involved family, sometimes too involved, she appreciated when people wanted privacy. “But you have to stay here?”

“Yes.” Skylar shrugged, the gesture telling a thousand stories. “Let’s just say I’m hiding in plain sight.”

Whatever that meant. Still… “I’m sorry you have to do that.”

That actually drew a small, tight smile from the woman. “Thanks. Now, do you want to learn to defend yourself, or not?”

Cami hopped off the bed and joined Skylar in the middle of the cavern, which, besides the bed, was empty with a decently flat floor.

Skylar started by showing her the best stance—feet set wide, but not too wide, to give her a strong base, body turned sideways to her opponent to give less surface to strike, arms up, chin tucked, and proper fists with the thumb wrapped around the fingers on the outside, knuckles flat.

Before they could get much further in the instructions, an impatient knock thumped against the door. Skylar didn’t bother to say come in, and whoever was out there didn’t bother to try.

“Rune has returned,” a female voice sounded through the hard oak door. That sounded like Paula, one of the mates Rune had found in Brazil.

“Thanks. We’re coming,” Cami called when Skylar obviously wasn’t going to answer.

She turned to find Skylar shaking her head. “You go. I’ll talk to him later.”

A naturally touchy-feely person, Cami grabbed her by the hand. “You can’t spend all your time locked up in here. That’s a recipe for depression.”

But Skylar tugged out of her light hold. “The fewer dragon shifters I interact with, the better.”

“Except Tyrek?”

Skylar shrugged.

“Fine.” Cami sighed and headed for the door, grabbing her flashlight on the way.

She was halfway out the door when Skylar’s voice followed her. “Hey—”

Cami popped her head back inside. “Yeah?”

“Come back when you’re done, and I’ll show you some more.”

A grin sprang to Cami’s lips, unbidden. “See. I knew we’d be good friends.”

That smile stayed with her through the long, dark corridors. Everywhere around her was the sound of water, a constant drip, drip, drip, like the snow and ice on the towering peaks outside seeped inside the mountains to melt and weep through the walls.

They used old-fashioned torches set into sconces to light the main corridors in this section. Something about not having long enough cables to set up an electric lighting system in the dormitory portion of the compound. She’d been warned, quite severely, not to venture down corridors that weren’t lit. Apparently the dragons hadn’t used this system of lived-in caverns in a long time, and parts were no longer safe, prone to cave-ins.

Quickly, she made her way through a series of turns leading to what she’d mentally dubbed the dragon hangar. Ahead, she could hear the slap of feet against the smoothed stone floor, but she couldn’t see far enough to figure out who she was following. Probably Paula.

Eventually, a pinpoint of light showed at the end of the stretch she was walking. As she got closer, the light grew until an open doorway became more obvious. She walked into the massive hangar with its tall ceilings and flat floor, obviously carved out for the purpose of easy landings, and blinked in the stark white light of the sun streaming in through an entrance large enough for a 747 to fly through.

But no dragon stood in the middle of the floor. Where was Rune? Had he shifted already? Cami moved to stand beside Paula, feeling small and a bit plain beside the tall, gorgeous Brazilian. The woman had the best legs Cami had ever seen in real life and tended to show them off by only ever wearing shorts. Even in coming winter, apparently.

“Where’s Rune?” she wondered.

Before Paula could answer, a shadow passed over the entrance to the cave. He must’ve telepathically relayed his arrival to warn his men not to attack as he landed. Thinking back to the other times he’d returned after an absence, Cami realized that was a system they must’ve had in place all along.

A second later, a massive obsidian dragon—glorious to behold with scales that rippled like black silk—flew through the entrance. Those scales seemed to swallow the sunlight like a black hole, trapping the light and not letting it back out. His head, edged in wicked-looking spikes that rose to a crest at the back of his skull, sat atop a long, graceful neck. Wings that cast their own massive shadow, even inside the cave. Talons that could rend a human in two with a mere flick. Not to mention the fire he could spew between teeth that showed carnivorous dinosaurs how it was done.

A living, breathing weapon.

Seeing the men in their dragon forms never got old, and Cami couldn’t help but wonder what she’d look like when she finally turned. Some shade of red according to the mark that Rune identified on her neck after applying fire to her skin, though it hadn’t burned her.

Except, for the first time since the day Rune had found her and shown her what he was, telling her she was destined to become this, too, a shiver of apprehension skated over her skin and down her spine.

Skylar’s right. I need to be more prepared than I am.

Rune tipped his wings forward, flaring to catch the wind, and beat them several times to hover before he touched down lightly, first with his hind feet, then with the front, his wings folding in and back.

That’s when she caught a movement. Someone was riding on Rune’s back. Another mate?

Rune lowered his belly to the floor, and the person stood, stepping out from between two razor-tipped spikes where he’d been wedged for the flight.

A man. Not a mate.

This was a first. Every man in this place was a dragon shifter and flew here on his own. Curiosity urged her forward, along with everyone else, as the man climbed off Rune’s back using only one arm, lithely jumping the last ten feet to land with hardly a sound.

“What the fuck?” One of Rune’s men standing closer to her snarled, and guttural growls ripped from the throats of several of the others. The beasts lurking inside clearly wanted a piece of this guy.

Cami craned her neck, going up on tiptoe, to see why. He said nothing, didn’t even take a defensive stance, as many of the men facing him had done. Instead he calmly waited for Rune to complete his shift.

As soon as he finished, Rune moved to stand beside the stranger. He clapped a hand on his shoulder. “I see there’s no need for introductions.” He nodded behind the men where Cami and the other dragon mates stood. “Ladies, this is Drake Chandali. He’s—”

“Why did you bring him here?” Hakan, one of the four red dragons here, and usually the most vocal of all Rune’s guys, spat. If venom in a voice could be true poison, this Drake guy would be dead right now.

Cami’s curiosity only grew, and she edged closer, shouldering past the other girls.

Rune’s expression, or what she could see of it, hardened, black eyes exposing a predator who would kill with no compunction or remorse. “As you know,” he said, “this man was part of the Huracán team of enforcers, to which I once belonged.”

“Our enemies—”

Rune cut Hakan off with a look. “Our new allies. Given their positioning, they can provide us with information we wouldn’t otherwise have.”

“And he’s going to what? Join right in after we’ve faced down in the field? Babysit us? Report back to Finn?” another man demanded. Goret, one of the white dragons in the bunch, maybe, based on the strong Russian accent.

This Drake guy still hadn’t said a word. In fact, he stood there with what appeared to be a permanent scowl on his face and otherwise showed no reaction. Like he couldn’t be bothered to defend himself, explain, or even make an effort to set these shifters at ease.

At Goret’s question about what his role would be, Drake glanced at Rune, eyebrows raised, and waited.

“He’s here to advise us,” Rune announced. “And he will be treated like one of us. Or you’ll deal with—”

“Me,” Drake said. The softly spoken, but no less harsh, word dropped into a void of silence that threatened to suck all sound and light from the room. Even the buzz of the generator, which sat near the south wall, seemed to dim in deference to him.

Except the sound of his voice—deep and scratchy—reverberated through Cami, and she frowned, casting through her memory.

I’ve heard that voice before.

Rune shrugged, as if conceding that dealing with this Drake person, rather than with him, was a worse consequence.

Still with his hand on Drake’s shoulder, Rune moved forward. “I’ll show you where you can sleep.”

Despite disgruntled expressions, no one argued. Cami got the impression that Rune would have little trouble kicking anyone out who did. While his goal of helping mates was noble, she had no doubt that a ruthless bastard inhabited his skin.

With a combination of glares, dirty looks, and curious glances, mostly from the women, they dispersed, walking away to disappear down various human-sized corridors that all met in this place.

Except Cami didn’t get the memo to leave. Drake’s voice, the familiarity of those deep, rough tones, and something else, some strange awareness, drove her feet forward into his path.

The second his gaze landed on her, Drake stilled, though his expression gave nothing away.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Camilla?” Rune asked beside him, a million questions in his tone.

Only she didn’t look at him. Instead she stared at Drake, scrunching up her eyes like viewing him out of focus might help.

He remained still and silent while she studied him.

A harshly handsome face stared back at her—a slash of cheekbones, strong jaw shadowed in dark stubble, jet black hair, though instead of the warmth of dark eyes she would have expected, his were an unusual, intense reddish-brown shade.

Red dragon, a vague part of her mind identified. You could always tell by the eyes.

But, while Drake’s dark glower should’ve had her heading in the other direction—that bite sharper with him, darker—fear was not what she felt. What she felt was…almost like gratitude. Trust.

A warm little sun spot somewhere in the region of her heart and a voice inside that whispered. Only she couldn’t catch the words.

A brightening around her told her that the internal glow at the center of her chest had taken on a life of its own. The way his gaze dropped then narrowed told her she wasn’t wrong. Sparks would follow any minute now, but she didn’t care, for once.

She needed to know first. “Have we—”

Suddenly, Drake pitched forward, one hand to his knees, his breathing turning harsh and erratic.

Alarm pierced that warm familiarity. “Are you okay?”

She bent over and instinctively put a hand on his back in a gesture meant to comfort. Immediately he tensed, his muscles going so rigid under her palm that she jerked her hand away.

Only he didn’t snap at her, or straighten, or make a sound of any sort. Instead, the man fell to the floor in a tangled heap of limbs, convulsing for several agonizingly long seconds, before he stopped, lying so still that it almost scared her more.