My dragon raged. I raged. But nothing could break the silver lining of the cell that contained me. It wasn’t even a strong silver lining, just a thin sheet, less than a hairsbreadth, but it was enough to keep me from touching the bars or the walls around me.

Silver wasn’t just used to control werewolves, it could be used to control any kind of shifter. Our skin would burn if we touched even a small amount of it. The floor, my bathroom area, and my bed were the only part of the cell that didn’t have silver over it. I wanted to scream in frustration that I couldn’t break down the walls.

He’d chosen well, knowing I’d risk death to get back to Arista. Even I wouldn’t touch the silver, though. The metal had a way of sinking into your skin. Tiny, microscopic pieces would invade a dragon body, tear through it, burning far more than the part we touched. It meant death to touch it without a barrier.

I could use my clothes, or my blanket, but the walls here were thick, and I was underground, I’d never get through it all before I died.

My father had imprisoned me and the sickness was tearing away my strength already. I had tried to reason with him, but he wouldn’t hear a rational argument when he found out his son was mated to a hunter. He’d ordered me thrown into a prison cell and screamed for a historian as I was dragged away. He was trying to find a way to break the mating but I knew he wouldn’t find anything. Nobody ever had.

I stared at the shiny walls glumly. Pain gnawed at my stomach, and weakness nearly stole my breath as it flowed through me in waves that only grew stronger every day. I knew Arista would be ill, much worse than me by now. That was the part that hurt the most, knowing that for all of my complaints right now, hers were far worse. My mate was dying and there was nothing I could do to stop it!

I hadn’t reached the point of screaming in madness yet, but I was close. What should have been a logical, simple discussion between father and son had turned into a nightmare. My father had flipped over his writing table—a thick, ornate piece of mahogany that he’d had for centuries—turning it into splinters when I revealed my deception.

The odd part was, he wasn’t angry that I’d betrayed him and our kind, it was that fate had decided my mate was a hunter that had totally enraged him. I think even he understood what the mating could do to a soul. I hoped he did anyway.

I’d tried to send him messages, begging him to let me out to go to her, but he hadn’t responded. I didn’t know how Arista was but I knew she was still alive. I could feel her in my soul, and even though she was growing weak, I knew she was still alive. I could only eat, pace, and breathe, hoping Father would soon see sense.

I hadn’t seen anyone but my guard since I’d been brought here. There wasn’t anyone I could plead my case to or beg to help me. Not even my siblings had come, and that stung. Perhaps Father had ordered them not to.

There was nothing to distract me from my own thoughts, and soon I was staring at the floor again. I could tunnel down, though it might take me centuries. I imagined this weakness must be how humans felt, this lack of strength and speed. What a miserable life. Even Arista in her healthy state had more strength than I did in that moment.

I heard the jangle of keys and stopped pacing. I stood well away from the door. I didn’t want to give them a reason to attack me, not when I was already so weak. I wouldn’t win a battle between myself and a guard at this point. I suspected they knew it too.

“Stand back, prisoner.” You lost all sense of identity when you became a prisoner. Your name was never spoken, you weren’t allowed to write it, and it would not appear on any documents. You would be prisoner in cell number. In my case, cell 277.

“You may leave us.” My father, regal in his stature and bearing, joined me in my cell. That was the last thing I’d expected.

The guard closed the cell door and left, and my father stared at me. “You don’t appear to be well, Malcolm.”

“What did you expect, Father? A full-on greeting party?” I sneered the words at him, the first time in my life I’d ever done so.

I’d always looked up to him, but now I just wanted to throw him to the side and escape to Arista.

“Your uncle died at the hands of the hunters, Malcolm, or have you forgotten?” His tone was imperious, cold, and detached, unlike the fatherly adoration I’d grown up hearing. He sounded rather like he was talking to a wayward student, one in need of a good talking to and perhaps a hiding, but definitely a good dressing down.

I stared at the circlet of gold on his head, not giving him the pleasure of looking him in the eye.

“Yes, I know, Father. That was centuries ago. Lifetimes ago. They’re dying out. We can let them die in peace and be free of them in the future.” I’d tried to explain this before but I got the same dismissive wave of his hand.

“We can’t be sure of that. Especially if you breed with this little hunter of yours.” My eyes flicked to his. I hadn’t considered that. “And what will happen to this unfortunate child? Will it hate itself? Will it hate you for giving it such an odd life, half hunter, half dragon? Heaven forbid!”

“I don’t think it would work out like that, Father.” I started to speak, to refute him, but he interrupted.

“Oh, I know the child would be a dragon, but you know she can’t be turned, right? She won’t be a dragon, won’t become one of us as the wolves’ mates do. She’ll always only be a hunter.”

His eyebrow raised imperiously and he looked down his nose at me. I wanted to knock the circlet from his head, but he was my father and my king. I would not assault him.

“I didn’t think she could, Father, no. I just know she is not a hunter when she is with me. I think the gene is dying in them. She is not as strong as the hunter that killed your brother.”

“Nevertheless, they must all be eradicated.”

I stared at him, wondering how this was the same man I’d grown up with as a mentor. He sounded petulant, whiny, and not the same man. Could he be afraid of the hunters?

“Father, I will die without her.” I tried to reiterate this point with him, but again, he waved me away.

“You will do no such thing. Godfrey is working on a solution now.”

“You’d take her from me?” I was horrified. To have known the mating and have that ripped away? I’d never felt more alive, never felt so whole!

I didn’t want it taken from me. I didn’t want her to be taken from me. I knew in my bones that it was more than just the mating that drew me to Arista. It was her smile, her laughter, the way she sighed my name. It was how she made me laugh, how she made me feel. I didn’t just want her because she was my mate, I wanted her because I loved her.

“I would destroy her with no compunction, Malcolm, if it keeps us all safe. I was going to let you out but I see now you’d just run to her. I can’t allow that to happen. You’ll have to stay here.” He turned and called for the guard.

“I can’t believe I used to look up to you!” I growled the words to his back, knowing there was nothing I could do to change his mind.

“You might do so again when you’re free of this mating nonsense. Good day, Malcolm.”

He left me then, his long leather cape scraping the floor as he went.

I looked down at my own prison garb, drab linen pants and a shirt that barely kept out the cold. I hated to think treasonous thoughts, but when a man would throw his own son into prison and leave him to rot, knowing he’d die without his mate, you couldn’t help but do just that.

He would not get in my way. Somehow, I’d find a way to get out and get to Arista. Then I’d run to the ends of the earth with her if I had to. This would not stand.

I understood my father’s anger; his brother’s death had been what finally drove us out of the human world completely. Back then there’d been more hunters in the world. Now though, the handful in a small town on the other side of the world was not a threat. I’d seen how weak Arista was compared to her ancestors, and how she was totally untrained.

Even her instinctive skills wouldn’t be enough to take down more than one dragon at a time, if they ever kicked in. I’d seen her that first night, I knew it was possible for her to have a natural battle skill, but I didn’t think she’d become a murderous demon bent on killing us all. I knew she was different.

I crawled back to my cot and stared at the ceiling. If father wasn’t going to let me out, then I’d have to find a way out. Somehow.

Days passed, and then the days became weeks. My worry for Arista didn’t help, and soon I wasn’t able to eat. Life fled from me like rats fleeing a sinking ship, and soon I couldn’t leave my bed. My hair turned white, I could see it in the mirror-like surface of the silver, and my face aged until I looked well beyond elderly and straight into ancient. Dark spots appeared all over my skin. I could feel my heart slowing down.

I went to my bed one day, and could not get back up when my food was brought in. The guard called for my father but I didn’t see him. I slept, memories of Arista serving as my dreams, and I longed for her touch. That softness of her palm against my face, the comfort of her fingers on my back, was all I wanted. I was almost comatose by the time Father allowed Henry and Mary to come and see me. I couldn’t speak. My skin hung from my bones, and my siblings could only stare at me in horror.

“What has Father done?” Henry spoke, his words an indictment. “I can’t believe that’s Malcolm!”

Mary didn’t waste time expressing her horror. She came to me, her eyes full of tears that went unshed. Dragon’s didn’t cry.

“Where is she, Mal? Where can we find her?” Mary crouched at my side, her hand taking mine. My hands were still larger than hers, but now they were the frail, thin-skinned bones of an elderly man.

“North,” I started to say, but my throat was too dry. She tilted a cup to my lips, and I sighed as it cooled the heat in my throat for a moment. “North Carolina.” I looked up at her, pleading with the last of my strength, “Bring her to me.”

“Right, we’ll need to keep this quiet,” Henry said. “If anybody outside of our family knows there’s a hunter in their midst…”

His words trailed off as blackness took me. I just wanted to hold Arista one more time before I died. That was all. I wanted to hold my mate once more. I knew I was too far gone to be saved now, there was nothing they could do to bring me back.

Father had killed me with his merciless hatred of the hunters, and there was no way to turn back time.