The kiss lasted all of three seconds, and the surprise of it meant I was not fully in the moment. Too busy marveling at the fact that it happened to react. By the time she pulled back, wide-eyed and breathless, it was too late to react.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, looking away as a deep blush colored her cheeks. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Why not? Look at me, please.”

I reached for her, but she pulled away and retreated to the cave’s entrance. I was not about to be put off that easily, so I followed.

“Leave me be,” she whispered, arms wrapped around herself.

She stared into the woods, where the rain was now nothing more than water falling from leaves and branches. Each gust of wind sent down another shower, but even the wind seemed to be calming. How long had it been since we wrecked? I’d lost all track of time.

The sky was lightening, however, and based upon the time of year, I guessed it had been roughly twelve hours. Only half a day, which in the course of a lifetime as long as mine was no more than the blink of an eye

It might as well have been an eternity.

“What if they didn’t make it?” she murmured after a long silence, the two of us staring out at the darkness which lessened with each passing minute. “What if they crashed somewhere further up the mountain and no one is coming to retrieve us because no one knows we’re here?”

“Then I’ll hike up there.”

“What if there are too many obstacles?”

“There’s no such thing as too many obstacles.” I jerked my head in the direction of the tree I’d moved aside that we might not be trapped. “You saw the short work I made of that.”

“How many miles of debris could you possibly move before it becomes too much? Not that I do not trust you or that I think little of what you did. It was incredible, watching you do that,” she admitted with a ghost of a smile. “It seems like a lot, however. Asking you to do more.”

“You wouldn’t be asking me to do it. I would do it because I, too, need to get out of here. I would like to eat at some point, if it’s all the same to you. And drink, and bathe, and rest in a bed. This isn’t all about you or even your sister.”

“You’ve made your point.”

“Have I?”

She looked at me, the dark circles beneath her eyes more evident than ever in the dawn’s growing light. “It isn’t only us I worry about. What of your clan? My coven? What if they didn’t make it?”

“They made it,” I decided.

“How can you be so certain?”

“I would feel it.” I placed a hand over my heart. “Here. And here.” I tapped my temple. “The dragon always knows. When we were kidnapped, the dragons who live here felt it. They had no understanding of what they felt, but the heartbeat we all hear—a heart beating in all of us, somewhere in the earth or of it, binding us together, grew so faint as to be almost inaudible. You cannot underestimate the ties between us.”

“Be that as it may, it means little if Iris or Electra were injured—or worse.”

I shrugged. “Then it would be my hope that neither of them were as stubborn and short-sighted as yourself.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means I would hope they’d accept the offer of dragon blood more quickly than you did.”

“It wasn’t stubbornness, damn you.” Her delicate eyebrows drew together over her nose, her brow furrowing as she concentrated.

And for a moment, she froze me in place. I could do nothing but breathe, see and hear. But a mere moment was all it lasted, and I had control over myself again.

“What was that?”

She blinked hard. “That was my pitiful attempt to remind you of my powers. Something about being here has drained them, or at least dulled them beyond the point of usefulness. I wanted… I wanted to make you pay for what you said.” Her head lowered until she was staring at the ground.

In light of the situation, I let it slide. What I couldn’t let slide was how angry my accusations made her. “You’re telling me it wasn’t stubbornness, then? What was it? What possible reason could you have for denying what might have healed her swiftly?”

“Aside from fear of what might happen to her? And a general distaste for the entire process?”

“Aside from that.”

She heaved a sigh. Her shoulders rose and fell. “Dallas, you do not understand what it is for us. For me. I—it doesn’t make sense, everything in my head. I cannot seem to get it out in words you would understand.”

This, I could work with. “Think it, then. Think it as hard as you can. I’ll be able to see it. I might be able to understand better.”

She stiffened, and I sensed her attempts at placing a shield between us. “Nay. Don’t do it. Not now. I won’t accept it. We’ve already been through too much for you to turn back.”

“What if I want to?”

“Unless you know a way to turn back time and erase these last hours, it’s simply not possible.”

Another sigh, but this time it was one of resignation. Was she finally seeing reason? “Well, then. If I have no choice…” She raised her head and closed her eyes, and suddenly an entire world opened to me. What a fool I was to believe even for a minute that I’d been privy to more than the slightest fraction of what was inside her.

Was this what Alan went through? And Tamhas and Klaus? This hyperawareness of not just one consciousness, but two? How did they manage to get anything done? How did they not become hopelessly lost in thought?

There was a purpose to this, however, and I reminded myself to focus my concentration. I needed to see what she was trying to show me.

I saw Selene. Sensed her. Beautiful, powerful, able to command an army of talented witches, well-versed in ancient lore.

I saw her with another witch—also beautiful, also powerful, the two of them working together. I knew the second witch. I remembered her. Demeter.

Selene’s daughter. Keira’s mother. The same hair which hung down her back in a shimmering waterfall, the same eyes as Selene. I hadn’t known her well, but I’d known of her. We all had. Talented and fierce, but loving and good.

I sensed a mix of conflicting emotions. Jealousy, love, fear, dismay, even depression. Confusion. Selene’s fury, her heartbreak, all witnessed by her second daughter.

Demeter went away. Hecate had been so young, impressionable. She felt… cold. Unsure of herself. Would her mother stop loving her one day and send her away?

“You didn’t completely understand then,” I whispered as I watched this. “You didn’t know why Demeter went away. You thought it might happen to you one day, too.”

Hecate’s voice was the barest whisper—fragile, on the verge of tears. “If she could go, I could go. If she could be banished because she’d mated with a dragon, what would my mother say if she knew I’d allowed our blood to mingle with yours? Would she banish Callie? What of me?”

I opened my eyes to find her still standing beside me, still holding onto herself. A single tear ran down her cheek. She was no longer the impenetrable mystery she’d once been, and I was ashamed for thinking too badly of her—though, what choice was there in the moment, without this insight to guide me?

“This is not the same. There was no choice. Callie’s life depended on it. You didn’t send her here. You could only do everything in your power to help her survive. Besides, quite a lot of time has passed since then. Don’t you think your mother might regret having sent Demeter away?”

She swallowed, then shrugged. “I think she does, but I know how committed she is to upholding our laws.”

I stepped in front of her, looking down, and placed my hands on her shoulders. She was so small, so fragile for all her strength and skill. I thought it might make me care even more for her than I’d already begun to do.

“Look at me. Please.”

She tilted her head back and opened her eyes. For once, doing as I asked without argument.

And I longed to hold her. To kiss and comfort her. It wasn’t me or my kind she was afraid of—if anything, that fear, and misplaced hatred had been born of witnessing the loss of her sister, one who Selene had placed above the rest of the coven. She’d been the apparent heiress. If the heiress could be banished, what hope was there for anyone else?

“Even if enough time has not yet passed for Selene to see the error of her ways, you would never be alone. I would always be with you, and you would always have the dragon’s protection. Until the day I die, everything I am, everything I do, would be in service of your safety and happiness. I swear it.”

Light flickered in her eyes. Hope, perhaps, or surprise at the depth of feeling I’d revealed. But that light did not last long. It might as well have been imaginary.

“I wish it were that simple,” she replied, her voice flat and emotionless. “I truly do.”

I considered myself a reasonable man. I always had.

My dragon, on the other hand, was not reasonable. He’d never needed to be.

When I pushed her away, it was the dragon doing so. Or perhaps I did so because the dragon wanted me to do much worse. He wanted me to convince her. To take her and make her mine regardless of whether she wished it so.

I wouldn’t do that.

Instead, I turned and headed into the woods. My palms seemed to burn where they’d touched her. I rubbed them against the legs of my jeans in a vain attempt at getting her off me.

“Where are you going?” she called out, an edge of panic in her voice.

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Not when there was a roar building up inside me. The dragon’s roar.