Chapter Eleven

Meira kept quiet as Tyrek led her to what appeared to be a kitchen, stewing over what had just happened. It had been unfair of her to throw the eating thing back in Sam’s face…and call him her captain. He’d just been trying to take care of her. To be honest, that had been more about the shock, because she’d realized suddenly that losing him would cut her to the quick. More than that, actually, but she was terrified of examining those feelings more deeply, because if he was right…if they were mates…

“Here we are,” Tyrek said as they entered a larger space.

More or less a mess hall. A tall-ceilinged cavern, the space broken up by several large stalactites and stalagmites that had grown into each other, forming columns. The hum of what must be a generator used for electric power throughout the mountain hadn’t been as obvious in the tunnels, though a constant whir of sound and was louder here.

Harsh fluorescent lights cast a wavering purple hue over multiple wood picnic tables that reminded her of the one in their backyard in Kansas. They’d eaten out there when the weather was nice. She didn’t even remember walking by it today. The thing was probably starting to turn gray and splintered by now.

To one side, along a wall with pipes and wires hanging down, was a rudimentary kitchen setup with a long counter formed by a series of tall tables with laminate tops, an old fridge with chipped, yellow paint, and an oven/stove combo in an ugly green that was supposed to be avocado, but reminded her of baby poo. The thing would’ve fit right in at that Kansas house, too.

Home, sweet home. Sort of.

Thankfully, only a woman and kid were in the room. Good. Meira was starting to flag under the onslaught of each new person she had to deal with, had to create a relationship with or convince to believe her.

Aidan crossed the room to the petite blonde who was cooking. Based on the way she lit up, and the kiss he dropped on her lips, lifted for his touch, this had to be his mate. Sera, she thought was the name he’d mentioned.

A gangly boy ran at Aidan only to pull up short and shadow box with him, both man and boy laughing. They had a son? She got the impression their mating had been more…recent.

“Let’s get you fed,” Tyrek said.

Following her uncle’s lead and trying not to notice how Samael hadn’t shown up yet, Meira crossed the room.

“Welcome to our hideaway,” Sera said with a kind smile. The first Meira had received in a while if she was honest. “This is our son, Blake.”

“How do you do?” The boy, who couldn’t be more than nine or ten in both human and dragon years, held out a hand, a tiny man with an old soul.

Meira shook with all seriousness. “Lovely to meet you.”

“Do you want to see me shift?” Suddenly he was an eager little boy, his grin showing gaping holes where teeth should’ve been.

“You can shift already? I didn’t know that was possible at this age.” She glanced to his parents, and Sera rolled her eyes.

“Blake is my son from when I was human. When I shifted the first time, he did, too. It took a very long time for him to learn how to shift back.”

“Wow.” More questions piled up in her mind.

“Aidan says you’re a phoenix and on the run, too?” Sera asked, interrupting the litany of questions that wanted to pour from her.

Meira cast a wide-eyed look at Aidan. He’d said all that in the two seconds he’d taken to kiss his mate before their son had distracted him? Or was their connection that strong?

Sera turned back to the stove top. Her chin-length hair didn’t cover the marking that stood out starkly against the pale skin at the nape of her neck. Meira didn’t need to check Aidan’s neck to know that was his mark. His mate.

More questions piled up. Like how long had it taken for the mark to show? And did it hurt when it appeared? Did it do anything for them beyond show them as a bonded pair? What about the other ways mates connected? Most likely they could communicate telepathically, like many mates could, which was probably how Sera knew what she did already. What else?

Even now, Aidan and Sera watched each other with a knowing, as though their souls settled around each other, and with an intensity that bordered on uncomfortable. Like Meira’s sisters and their mates.

“Can I help with anything?” Meira offered. At home, they’d always split the chores, with whoever was working at the café that evening taking a night off from dinner duty.

Sera shook her head, shooting a smile over her shoulder. “It’s basically done. We had dinner earlier, so this only needed to be reheated.”

Which meant more dragon shifters lived here. How many? Probably better if Rune didn’t tell them. Knowing nothing was better if they were captured. Torture scenes from movies popped into her head. Scenes based on human experiences. Imagine what dragons could do.

A shudder tumbled through her, clenching her stomach.

With a few twists, Sera turned off the propane flames on the stove top. “If you don’t mind, we’ll serve from the stove?”

“Of course.” Meira had no wish to cause anyone extra work.

Taking her cue from Tyrek and Aidan, she took a plate from the counter and piled it high with heavenly smelling chicken alfredo.

A small movement at the entrance caught her attention, and Meira’s gaze stole across the room to where Samael entered, talking quietly with Rune. At least they weren’t snarling at each other like before.

I think you’re my mate. The memory of Samael’s words echoed softly in her mind, and suddenly Meira was tempted to close her eyes and see if she could sense that knowing.

But no. Her life, her loyalty, had to remain with her sisters, and their only goal was to take out Pytheios. As long as Gorgon was still alive, her promise to him held. Life had left her with terrible choices.

Frustration welled up inside her like oil spewing from the earth, coating everything in poisonous liquid gold.

Driven by a sudden urge to step away from the harsh boundaries set for her before she was even born, Meira defiantly snatched up a glass of wine, ignoring how Samael lifted an eyebrow at the alcohol given what she’d told him about her tolerance levels. Spying a seat across from her uncle at the end of one table, tucked into a private corner, almost, she took it.

Tyrek lifted his head as she set her plate down and smiled, which she suspected he didn’t do often. The way the skin pulled across his aging face made the expression appear strained. More like a grimace. They sat together in silence, both simply taking each other in.

Her uncle reminded her of old black-and-white movies about war, or footage of the human Second World War. Sadness lingered in his eyes, behind a keen intelligence, like clouds obscuring the sun from shining, leaving him colored a murky gray.

Were traces of her father in that face anywhere?

“Tell me about him,” she said quietly.

Tyrek must have followed her thoughts, because rather than frown his confusion, he leaned back and the sadness deepened, casting him farther into shadow. At least to her eyes. “Zilant was born to be king,” he started slowly.

He spoke in such a low tone, Meira scooted forward. Their mother had shared small details, but she’d rarely talked of her love, the pain too sharp no matter the passage of time.

“I don’t mean because of the bloodline we come from,” Tyrek continued. “Amons had ruled the White Clan for generations, and he was the firstborn. I mean he always knew the right thing to do. I’ve never met a man, then or since, with a stronger sense of protectiveness over the people he loved.” He slid a glance toward Samael. “Though I’d say your bodyguard shares that trait.” He shifted his gaze back to her. “You too. You get that from your father.”

Meira’s heart squeezed in tight with the knowledge that she carried some of her father in her.

Tyrek’s gaze shifted as though he was watching a reel of memories in his mind’s eye. Memories she wished she could watch with him.

“He loved your mother from the instant he laid eyes on her, long before they mated, and wrote her love letters every day they were apart. Their connection was so strong, so powerful, it filled a room with an electric charge.” Tyrek grimaced. “Almost painful to be around, actually.”

Meira sighed at that, softly, an ache creeping over her at never having seen her parents together. “Do you look like him?”

Her mother hadn’t even had a photograph of him to share, the technology coming centuries after his death, and dragon shifters didn’t do painted portraits. Something about not needing to capture their youth in image as it lasted a thousand years or more.

Tyrek shook his head then shrugged. “In some ways. Most said we looked alike in our faces, all sharp angles. I was more muscled, but he was taller. I have more cream in my coloring as a dragon, where Zilant was brilliant white. Blinding, practically, and he used that to his advantage. We both wore our hair long then.” His lips twitched at a forgotten detail remembered. “He was missing part of the pinkie finger on his left hand. Lost it in a fight with a bully when we were kids, before he ever learned to shift.”

Mama hadn’t told them that. Why that small detail made her father more real, she didn’t know. Meira sat quietly, waiting for more. For anything.

“He laughed a lot.” Tyrek shook his head. “Especially after meeting your mother. For one who took the throne at a young age, and with all the responsibilities he bore, he never let the weight of leadership change who he was. He found amusement in any kind of absurdities—a turn of phrase, a silly story, foibles of life.”

Wonder lit Meira up from the inside, like fairy lights she’d once seen over a summer’s eve pond in a forest. Part of her loved that her father had innate happiness in his life that way. “Did Mama laugh, too?”

Tyrek sobered. “Before she lost him, yes. They made each other laugh, often with just a glance.”

To have that and lose it. Oh Mama. Unconsciously her gaze drifted to Sam. Oh gods.

Tyrek sat forward, covering her hand with his. “I rarely saw Serefina after Zilant died. I thought her dead for almost a hundred years, until she managed to track me down to arrange Skylar’s safety in the event of her own death. How she found me, I’ll never know. After that, she’d show up about once a year to confirm my location.” He grimaced. “I moved a lot. She loved you girls. A mother that fierce, that dedicated, especially after losing her mate…” He shook his head, respect gleaming in serious eyes. “She loved you.”

Meira patted the hand covering hers, his bones sharp and distinct through the thinning skin. “I know.”

She couldn’t say more. The tightness in her throat wouldn’t let her.

A sudden warmth, like snuggling into a comforting blanket, enveloped her, and she didn’t need to look around to see who’d approached.

“Everything okay?” Samael asked in a low voice.

“Fine,” she said.

Samael’s eyes narrowed, turning assessing, but with such a protective edge to it, her irritation with him just sort of fizzled out. Or maybe the walls she was desperately trying to keep erected around her heart were starting to crumble. Which could only lead to disaster.

“We were talking about my parents,” she found herself explaining.

A glance at Tyrek showed her uncle to be watching with no expression, though his curiosity buzzed against her. Samael tucked himself awkwardly onto the picnic bench beside her, opposite her uncle, and put his hands on the table, his pinkie finger close to where her own hand rested, but with an inch of space between them. Like an acknowledgment that he wanted to touch her but knew he couldn’t.

If they had been alone, would his approach have been different? Would he have dared? Would she have let him?

Trying not to focus on his hand beside hers—larger, skin a darker shade, stronger—and how she wanted to tuck hers into his, Meira forced her gaze to Tyrek. “If we’re able to overthrow Pytheios, will you come out of hiding? Come to stay with me or one of my sisters?”

“That’s the plan?” Rune called across the room, voice full of skeptical doubt. “Take out the High King?”

Meira straightened, meeting the black dragon shifter’s stare. “He is not the true High King.” Her words echoed off the tall ceilings. “My father was. When Pytheios is gone, a new king will rise.”

Though only the gods and fates knew which one. Kasia had tried to see, but she claimed that part of the future was murky, like a veil covered it.

The entire room went silent, every dragon shifter in the room focused on her.

Aidan, his arm hooked around Sera, turned piercing blue eyes their way. Then he leaned down to Blake. “Why don’t you go play, buddy?”

At a nod from his mother, Blake groaned and trudged out the door, muttering, “I don’t get to be around for anything good.”

“Who is the true High King?” Rune shot back as soon as the child was out of dragon ear shot. “More than one phoenix mated to more than one king begs the question, don’t you agree?”

Meira’s mind took a step back from the emotions clotting the air and assessed the man in front of her. As a rogue and a traitor, did he care who led? Something in the set of his jaw, the way he watched her, the single beat of emotion that tapped at her empathic shield, told her this mattered to him, but not because of multiple phoenixes.

Find out what he wants.

The thought came from that same empathic power. Calm stole through her with eerie ease and Meira let it. Because the truth of those words was so crystal clear to her. She slowly, deliberately, lowered those shields that held out others’ emotions, and braced herself for the impact.

Only instead of a tsunami hitting her, threatening to drown her, the emotions came at her softly.

Am I doing this?

Harsh emotions swirled around each person, and yet they weren’t overwhelming her, more like lighting each person in the room up so she could read them like her computer code. Worry and a deep love from Tyrek. Curiosity and hope from Aidan and his family. She didn’t dare look to Sam, moving on. Suspicion and also…hope…from Rune. Now, that was interesting.

Meira focused on the black dragon shifter and the surety of her first thought. What did he want? “How about we take down the one who’s not and figure out who is after?”

Her heart tumbled around inside her at being so bold, except she wasn’t nervous or edgy or any of those other things, like before. She wasn’t putting on a mask right now. This was how she could contribute, and that gave her…authority.

Sam’s hand inched over, brushing against hers in a barely there touch. A show of solidarity. He couldn’t touch her. Not really. Not here. And she shouldn’t want him to, but dang if that small spark of physical connection didn’t zing through her, bolstering her confidence even more.

“I don’t know you,” she said to Rune. “And you don’t know me. But my mother trusted you.” She glanced at Tyrek and back to him. “My uncle trusts you. My sister trusts you.”

Sam straightened beside her. “Based on what I’ve seen, I think we could be stronger together than apart. Don’t you?”

Exactly what she’d been thinking. She inched her hand into his and squeezed. The warmth of his emotions hit her right in the solar plexus, spreading deliciously outward from there. All coming from Sam. Realization sneaked inside her with it. She wasn’t scared of his emotions. Not anymore.

What was going on inside her? What was driving this sudden change? The empathy? Had opening herself up flipped some kind of switch?

Regardless, some piece of her, unknown to her until this moment, was sure that they were the same in that way. Both of them felt like outsiders. Both buried their emotions deep down and did what had to be done. They were…the same. Or two parts of a whole. Like a lock and a key.

Meanwhile, Rune crossed his arms, considering both of them. “I’m not coming back into the fold only to find another dictator rising up in Pytheios’s place. I’ve been pretty fucking alone cutting off the heads of hydras with nothing to show for it except more heads.” He held up his hand, missing the mark of his king, his bitterness a stark sizzle around him.

“Until now,” Aidan said quietly.

Meira locked gazes with Rune, needing him to hear her. “You think my sisters or I want another monster to lead?”

When he said nothing, she spread her hands wide. “You’ve met Skylar.”

Beside her Samael gave a small snort that might’ve been a laugh but only served to remind her how she was still holding his hand. Slowly, she inched away, hers turning colder at the loss, the wood of the table rougher against her skin.

“What are you suggesting?” Rune asked with narrowed eyes. That tiny spark of hope inside him pulsed.

Meira rose from the table. Extra confidence was helpful, but she was facing down a powerful shifter. “I suggest we start trusting each other.”

Silence. But she could feel a subtle shift in him, as though he was considering all the pros and cons.

She raised her eyebrows at Rune.

After a second he dropped his defensive stance, hands falling to his sides, resolution rising to the top of the emotions filtering through to her. “It means you fill us in on what’s happening with the clans.” Rune was dead serious.

“Don’t you know?” Samael asked.

Rune shook his head, frustration beating at her. “The Alliance is the main group that gets any direct communication from the clans. Obviously, I don’t talk to them, but our team of enforcers do, and they still aren’t sure what information to trust.”

“That would be frustrating.” She gave voice to the emotion rolling off him even stronger now.

Rune gave a jerking shrug.

Samael regarded them in silence. Seeing what?

Finally, he glanced her way and gave a small tilt to his head, as though seeking her permission. He was asking if they’d share everything. Including Angelika. Trust couldn’t be forced, but the truth was a good way to earn it. Again, that sensation of being in sync with someone, both foreign and oddly familiar, the way she was with her sisters sometimes, struck her hard.

You are his queen, she reminded herself. He needs your permission.

She nodded.

“We will tell you of the clans—all of it—on one condition,” Samael said.

Rune crossed his arms. “That would be?”

“That you give us your side of the events here. Because I sense this group isn’t the only one involved.”

Rune and Aidan both had once been part of that enforcer team—men dedicated to protecting the interests of the clans and kings within the colonies, appointed directly by the kings. They looked at each other, communicating in that way people only could if they’d been through years and battles together.

Relief was the last thing she expected to feel from the man, but that’s what hit her hardest. With a sigh of satisfaction, Meira shored her empathic shields back up. Reading all those emotions might be easier now—not a tidal wave, but it wasn’t restful, either.

“Fair enough,” Rune said finally. “Who wants to start?”

…

Samael’s internal clock told him they were well into the middle of the night. They’d hunkered down in that massive kitchen and talked. For hours. At least three different times, he’d tried to send Meira to bed. She should be resting, recovering her powers and her strength. But she’d blown off the suggestion with a scowl that reminded him of a feisty kitten.

A fact that only added to the tension building inside him all night. Tension that needed to be bled off either by releasing his dragon and taking to the skies or claiming his mate…

Now, as they were finally dispersing and heading to their beds, he leaned over where she still sat beside him, body humming at her nearness, her heat, her light. She’d been understanding, dealing with Rune, and suddenly so self-assured it had made his heart soar to witness the transformation. No flames like a phoenix, but certainly the soul of one. As well as clear vision, as though she could see to the heart of what Rune needed. Information and trust. Way more understanding than Samael would have thought to be. Seemed that the soft touch she had, that big heart, could reach people. Maybe he’d been wrong about her strays after all.

She’d make a wonderful queen. But then…she wouldn’t be his.

Unless we don’t find Gorgon, because then I’m the king.

Bile burned up his throat at the disloyal thought. Everything that made him was being torn to shreds, pulled in two competing directions, and he didn’t know what the fuck to do about it.

“Do me a favor.” The words came out gruffer than he intended as he tried to throttle his tangled emotions back. “Stay with your uncle in his chambers tonight.”

Meira frowned up at him. “You’re going to do something ill-advised, aren’t you?”

“Just do it.” He needed the space. From her. From everything. Especially from her. Time to think.

Hurt flashed in her eyes a beat before that stubborn chin tipped up. “Please don’t order me around.” She gave him that miffed-kitten stare he was starting to think might be a superpower. “Talk to me.”

Giving in, Samael leaned closer to put his mouth to her ear and whisper so that the others, with their enhanced senses, wouldn’t catch all the words. “I’ve offered to be one of the scouts tonight, in return for keeping us safe.”

She shook her head, her curls brushing his face, her jasmine and smoke scent rising up around him, curling into him, making his body clench. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” she said.

“It’s either that or mate you,” he growled, at the end of his endurance, his dragon leaning into him with those words.

The more danger they found themselves in, the more he needed to make her his. A compulsion that beat at him from the inside, thanks to the animal side of him. He wasn’t kidding about the mating. The more they’d talked with Rune and the others, the more tension had crept and coiled inside him, the more he needed to claim and protect and…

Fuck.

Without another word, he shoved away from her and stalked out of the room.

Leaving Meira in her uncle’s capable hands, trusting him above all the others—many more others than Samael had anticipated—in this place to watch over her, Samael prowled down a tunnel Rune had pointed him to. The back entrance to the mountain base.

Despite the ongoing situation with the Alliance, and how many were after him, not to mention the fact that more people knew about his location these days, Rune had determined that a fortress was better than being caught in the open. He and his people had dug in like ticks. Though Samael had yet to see more than the four in the room, Rune apparently had plans in place on the likely event of an attack.

Hopefully one involving escape. A large number of those protected by the stone walls were unmated women. Human still, though they showed dragon sign. Mates Rune had found and protected from a system Samael had no idea had broken down horribly.

Rune’s decision to go rogue hadn’t been a whim or a sudden turn to evil. He hadn’t been joking when he’d said that mates, or more precisely the mating system, had driven his own traitorous actions.

Mates disappearing or dying in greater numbers. It seemed Pytheios had his greedy hands in everything, including controlling the Mating Council. That body of already mated dragons was supposed to welcome and care for newly found mates. They were supposed to help those women understand who they were, ease into the culture, find their fated mate out of all the male dragons waiting, many desperately. Only that’s not what had been happening, apparently. The system was rigged, mates going to those more loyal to the High King, or more instrumental in his plans.

Had Gorgon known?

Had the king fucking known? Was that why he’d secretly sanctioned Rune’s actions?

Samael’s dragon was pushing hard to get into the sky. He needed release, having been pent up too long and given the situation with their own mate, who was driving him to madness.

After skirting several sections that had collapsed, with human-size portions cleared, Samael reached the area Rune had assured him was clear to the outside. The second he hit the part of the tunnel large enough to accommodate a full-size dragon, Samael unleashed the beast inside him, willing the shift to happen.

Starting with his skin that turned black and shiny with scales, overtaking even his clothes as everything human about him pivoted around the anchor of his soul, absorbing that form to mold and change into the dragon. Broad shoulders grew broader, his spine realigning and his form pitching forward to all fours. Wicked spikes of razor-sharp bone protruded from his spine and around the crest of his skull. At the same time, wings formed on either side of his shoulder blades, the membrane attached at his armpit, a variation for black dragons, allowing them to fly near silent.

Rune, also on patrol now, had been more than happy to have another stealthy motherfucker out there flying patrol and keeping them all safe. Now that trust had been reestablished.

Pushing off, Samael didn’t even wince at the screech of his talons on rock as he gouged deep gashes into the floor of the tunnel. No doubt the dragons who’d come before him had done the same over time. The bigger concern was how his dragon wanted to go back. To Meira. Turning their headlong plummet down the tunnel into an internal wrestling match.

Until they burst away from the mountain into the moonless, starlit sky.

Only then did the dragon side of him ease up. The world here smelled different than their home in Ararat, or Argi Dahg, as it had once been called. There the smells were sharper, sweeter, and, thanks to being a dormant compound volcano, sometimes the sulfur scent would give the impression of rotting eggs.

Here, the air was crisper, thinner, like the mountains themselves that spiked into the sky all around him, a solid four thousand feet higher than his home. Samael stayed low to the ground, skirting the treeless boulders and jagged peaks as he flew the border in ever-widening concentric circles.

Rune would be out here somewhere as well, just as silent, just as deadly if anyone or anything were to attack. Samael didn’t bother to reach out to his old clan mate.

He needed the silence.

The blink of lights on the far horizon, the city of Mendoza, Argentina, over a hundred miles away apparently, meant he’d hit the edge of the dragons’ territory. Tipping slightly, he shrank the circles to return to the mountain.

As he flew, Samael focused outward, away from himself. He tuned his senses, reaching with them. Below a vicuña dropped to its knees under an outcropping of rock to find rest for the night. To the west, and at a lower elevation, a royal condor dived off a rock, its heavy body dropping, most likely having sighted carrion in the open spaces below. Lower and farther out still, winds gently stirred the leaves of the trees, and a pine cone dropped from its branch to the forest floor. However, no threat came near that he could detect.

A wail of sirens, coming from inside the mountain, pierced the calm like a needle popping a balloon.

Samael bobbled in the air as his dragon’s first instinct was to protect his mate, jerking them around to return as quickly as possible. The human side, the trained warrior in him, had to course correct, staying where he was, senses tuned to any possible hint of danger from outside.

“What the fuck is that?” He directed the telepathic thought to Rune, whom he hadn’t seen but knew was out here.

“Fire,” came the grim response. “That’s the alarm for dragon fire big enough to hit our sensors.”

He didn’t need to explain more. Samael already knew. Rune was an enforcer, whether or not he still acted as one. As the policing arm of the clans in the colonies, one of the enforcers’ main duties was to put out dragon-caused fires. Dragon fire burned hotter, longer, spread faster, and was yet another way for humans to discover supernatural creatures existed in the world. No doubt Rune tracked them for different reasons. He wouldn’t want unknown dragons anywhere near his base.

Dragon fire on his sensors had to mean dragons were close.

Urgency held Samael taut as a drawn bow, ready for what came next, but he held his course. “I assume we remain at our posts.”

“They’ll contact us if the threat is in the immediate area or if we have to send out a team.”

“To investigate or put out?”

Rune was silent long enough that Samael assumed he wouldn’t answer. The guy never had been big on explaining. The fact that Rune had trained him might explain why Meira was always telling him to use more words.

“A small band of dragon shifters, unaware of us as far as I know, have moved into the area,” Rune came back.

But the tone in his voice didn’t sound angry. More focused. An enforcer never stopped enforcing, it seemed. After everything Samael had been told tonight—about Rune leaving his team and risking his own death to protect mates who weren’t even his—he believed that was true. But not the only truth. “You still protect the shifters in your region, from the Alliance now, whether they are aware or not. Am I right?”

Silence did greet that statement.

“Yeah. I’m right.”

“You always were a smug asshole,” Rune growled. “Keep your senses tuned. The fire could be a diversion.”

“No shit.” As if Samael would make a rookie mistake like that. Through this entire conversation, he’d been sweeping the area, attuned to any possible threat. He didn’t bother to point out that he outranked Rune these days.

Especially if they didn’t find Gorgon.

King Samael Veles. What the seven hells?

Though, if they didn’t find Gorgon, king or not, there was a high chance he wouldn’t be accepted back into the fold of the clan. The truth of that moved like a wrecking ball through him. His entire identity was wrapped up in who he was, the rank he’d fought with everything he had to rise to. To return to being…nobody.

The earth suddenly hushed, the sirens going silent, but so did every creature in the area.

“Something’s wrong.” He shot the thought to Rune.

“I know. Hold.”

Samael knew his duty. They were the first line of defense against an attack from the outside. “Any communications?”

“Radio silence. I trust my men.”

Except Meira was in there. A phoenix. Unmated, technically. His mate. Good men had made bad decisions with less enticement, and Rune’s men were all rogues. He had to suck in a roar of challenge to any creature who dared, like stoppering a bottle.

A sudden blast sent shock waves through the air.

Samael wasn’t waiting anymore. That explosion came from inside the mountain. Pulling his wings in close, he dived at the ground below, aiming for that back entrance he’d come out of, already turning over what he’d do once he was inside. That fucking tunnel would take forever to navigate down, especially once he was forced to shift and walk through the collapsed parts. The large hangar would’ve been closed off by the heavy dragon-steel door Rune assured him was there the second the alarms sounded.

He had no other way in.

Another boom and green flames erupted from the hidden gateway, a bright flash of light in the darkness. Green. One of Rune’s men? Or a different dragon shifter?

The explosion blasted out from the back side of the mountain, throwing dirt, boulders, and grasses now aflame outward a kilometer, the debris field taking out a swath of land. The ominous rumbling of collapsing rock sounded a few moments later, and another blast, this one of dust and dirt, shot from the maw of the tunnel entrance.

The tunnel must’ve collapsed fully.

Fuck.

Desperation had him diving at such a rate, he’d probably have trouble pulling out of it, but no way was he slowing up. Not with Meira in there. He’d damn well dig her out.

The image of her body, crushed and bloody, only drove him harder, panic poison in his blood and in his mind.

Suddenly, a black dragon dropped from above, aligning with him in the dive. Rune. “That was my man, Jiǎ, closing the tunnel. Follow me.”

Except Rune tilted his wings away from the mountain.

Samael didn’t follow. “I’m not going anywhere without Meira.”

“You have to. Jiǎ will have also closed the main entrance. He’s taking everyone out the secret way we’ve been digging since holing up in there.”

Meeting them there would only lead whoever Rune’s people were protecting them from right to them. Still, nothing pinged on Samael’s own personal radar around the outside of the mountain itself. Not a sign of another single paranormal creature, let alone dragon shifters.

With reluctance, Samael followed Rune as he flew off in another direction. Deliberately, Rune gained height. As silent as they flew, at altitude and on a moonless night, they were invisible.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Samael flared his wings, slamming his body to a stop. “The hell you say.”

“Meira’s taking them somewhere.”

Every cell in Samael’s body wanted to tackle his old mentor and beat him until he revealed every detail of what was happening. He couldn’t. He couldn’t even ignite his fire in warning. The glow would give away their own position to anyone tracking them. “Tell me there’s a fucking plan.”

“Yeah. Get my people out safely. That’s the fucking plan.”

Samael bit back a growl of frustration. After this was over, and Meira was safe, he and Rune were going to have a reckoning.

Rune turned and continued the journey, and Samael had no choice but to follow since no one else was communicating with him. Every instinct told him to find his mate. He had to cut the thought off or he’d turn and go back to the mountain and take it apart rock by rock until he got to her.

Except she might not be there.

That’s when he heard it. The hushed whoosh of dragon wings. At least five. A thousand feet below them. “Rune.”

“I know.”

Without another thought, they both held their wings steady, gliding silently on the currents of air. Remaining as still as possible, Samael slowly lowered his head to scan below them, tuning in to the sound of the dragons below.

“I make five,” Rune said.

“Six. A dark-green fucker is bringing up the tail.” Like a black dragon, at night that color was harder to spot. “Not ours?” Samael asked.

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“They’re searching for us.” Otherwise, they’d be at the mountain.

“Agreed.”

A flash of dark gold, nearer to bronze in color, caught his eye, and Samael stared harder at the dragon in the lead.

“Shit. I think that’s Brock Hagan.”

“The son of the previous gold king? You sure?”

“No. But he came after us in Kansas, too.”

“No way could he get here from the U.S. that fast. It would take too long to fly that distance.”

“I know. But I’m pretty damn sure that’s him.”

“Fuck me.”

Exactly. “What’s the play?” He might not like it, but Rune knew this region and Samael did not. They had three options—lead the attackers away, giving Meira and the people she was with more time to get away. Let them go past, unaware of their presence above, and head in a new direction. Or attack.

He and his dragon were not on the same page as to which plan they should go with, the dragon wanting blood on his tongue.

Rune decided for them. “They have no idea where we are. We should head back to the mountain. We’ll get in through the new passage, see if there’s anyone left.”

Given that Meira was operating on fumes, she might not be able to get everyone where she wanted. The plan was solid, and maybe the only one the animal side of him would accept over blood and carnage. The draw of getting to his mate was enough.

As one, Samael and Rune tipped their wings ever so slightly, making a wide, sweeping turn with the agony of slowness because the move was more silent. They wouldn’t take a direct route back to the mountain, instead taking their time and laying false trails for the fuckers below and any others that might be out there.

This was going to be a long night.