Sanaa heard the laughter again. The cold, cruel sound from her mother's lips rang through the air, though Niabe was nowhere to be seen. That was a bad sign. She scanned the area for Ronin, and found him squatting on the ground near a flaming bush, still in his dragon form.

He couldn't have known, but skinwalkers never sent a perspective youth on their spirit quest undefended. Their numbers were too small, each member of the tribe too valuable to risk even one inexperienced child. The blood relative who served as their representative to the Elders also served as their guard on the quest.

Kane had driven a suitable distance away, then changed into his eagle imprint. But a simple bird of prey was no match for the raging army of blood spawn. A tripping dragon was no match for them either.

If she had arrived even a few minutes later than she had….

Sanaa pushed the thought away with revulsion. Ronin was her guardian, her protector. He had to survive. She flew down to him, letting her powerful claws crunch dead brush and dirt as she landed.

The red-scaled dragon clung to the ground as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to the Earth. His eyes darted back and forth as if he expected the limp, black bodies that surrounded them to rise and attack again. Even Sanaa remained on alert, glancing at the bodies that hadn't been blown away in her sonic wave.

He had to understand now. Niabe was cunning and ruthless. She would find them in even the smallest moment, even the briefest time of respite. Her attacks would grow more violent, more calculated until she finally found a way around their defenses. One person could not repel her. Two people could not defeat her. Only the blood of their child would satisfy her brutal appetite.

If the surprise attack didn't convince him of the danger nothing would.

One look at his eyes, those brilliant-orange irises that flashed with fire even in his confusion, told Sanaa that he finally understood. Genuine relief washed over her for the first time in months. The Dragon of the Mountain was finally on her side.

She leaned forward and brushed the feathers of her cheek against his flank. The touch sent tendrils of warmth through Sanaa's body. They needed to get back to the village. Back to their girl.

Ronin must have sensed her thoughts. He hauled himself to his feet and shook his head firmly as if to clear it one last time. Then he flapped his wings and launched himself into the air. Sanaa followed and guided him toward the west. Toward the village.

Of all the mile-stones the Bloodbones celebrated in a year, Sanaa loved the coming of age ceremonies most. The Elders and adults of the tribe would wait beside the well in the center of town. The questers approached the town in their imprint form, often to a chorus of cheers and whoops if the animal was particularly impressive.

There wouldn’t be much ceremony surrounding Ronin's spirit walk. He was already a man grown, and not a skinwalker. His quest was a formality, a peace offering between them and the Elders. She didn't expect to find the Elders or anyone but Kane waiting for their return.

The chaos they found when they returned to the village took her by surprise. The Elders gathered around the well as always, most of them in their animal forms. Janna and Bastian--who were a raven and wolf respectively--must have gotten the worst of the attack because they were the only ones in their human form. Blood and black liquid oozed from scratches on their arms. The mountain lions–Omar and Elena–sat beside the Scholar and the Seer, lapping at their wounds to draw the poison from them.

Dozens of guppy demons lay limp on the ground, blood dripping from their unseeing eyes. A massive grizzly bear, Ramon, stood among them surveying the damage.

Sanaa released her imprint and ran the rest of the way. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew it was faster to fly, but she wanted her hands at the ready to hold her, no doubt terrified, daughter.

Ronin must have had the same thought. He ran past Sanaa, his long muscular legs giving him the advantage of speed.

"Where is she?" he demanded.

Ramon jerked his snout toward the covered well. The thick muscles of his neck began to shrink and pull into their normal position as he released his imprint.

Sanaa brushed past him and tugged the wood planks out of the way. Kane braced himself against the slick walls, knees locked in place to push his back firmly against the bricks. He cradled the baby in his hands, cooing softly to calm her.

"Your instincts were right," Bastian said through gritted teeth. He’d fought hardest to keep her in the village when Kane called to say there was trouble. Now he wouldn't be able to call his imprint for hours, maybe days, while his system processed the venom.

Sanaa had zero desire to point out the obvious to him. It was enough that everyone was safe. That they had beaten Niabe's plans once again. She reached into the well and plucked her daughter from Kane's hands.

The dragon reached into the well to help Kane climb out. "You were watching?"

Kane laughed. "They don't much send kids on spirit quests unmonitored anymore. The point was for you to think there was danger, not to really be in danger."

"Forgive our deception, Ronin." Ramon said. "And our reluctance. Niabe's attack this evening has proven she will not stop."

"Then you'll grant absolution?" Ronin asked.

Ramon clasped his hands in front of him, a gesture which gave him a regal air, despite his nudity. Tribe members stepped out of their homes and gathered nearby. The remaining Elders, now all in their human forms, rose and took the same stance as their leader.

"The dark walker Niabe Chavez is lost to us," the Chief said. "She has committed crimes against her family and against the Bloodbone Nation which cannot be forgiven. Your desire for vengeance is just. You may deal with her in whatever way you deem fit."

Sanaa had expected to feel relief when she finally heard those words, but she didn't feel anything. Getting permission wasn't enough. They still had to find Niabe and kill her, and they were running out of time to do it. Her attacks were growing in frequency and intensity. It was only a matter of time before she broke through their defenses.

Ronin reached around her to stroke the baby's cheek. He knew the danger now as well as Sanaa did, but for the first time since they met, there was no air of conflict around him. Years disappeared from his face as the ever-present scowl faded to a smile. He watched their daughter's response to his touch, a calm smile coming to his lips.

"What happened out there?" she asked.

He shrugged and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I put some things away, I guess."

"Have you, Dragon of the Mountain?" Ramon asked. "Are you ready to take your place in our tribe?"

"I am." The response was meant for the Chief, but Ronin never took his eyes off Sanaa.

Bastian limped forward and placed a hand on Ronin's shoulder. "Name your imprint."

"Dragon."

Sanaa figured word would have spread that the Dragon in the Mountain was the man who knocked her up, but a few people gasped in surprise as Ronin named his animal. Apparently, the rumor mill in town was a little slow these days.

"Then take your place among us, Brother Dragon," Bastian said. "You and yours are welcome here."

Omar stepped forward and clapped Ronin on the back like they were old drinking buddies. "May your days be long, and your enemies be few."

Ronin rolled his eyes. "Not fucking likely."

There had never been a dragon imprint in the Bloodbone tribe. For all they knew, there had never been a dragon skinwalker before. Only the baby in Sanaa's arms, and the man who stood at her side.

"So, when do we start planning the wedding?" Janna asked. Elena and Sanaa shot her a pair of withering looks. Janna, who had never married, dubbed herself the wedding planner of the tribe. It was just like her to get excited about a wedding, forgetting the impending murder.

Thankfully, Ronin was busy discussing the damage Niabe's attack had done to the village with Ramon and offering to help with repairs. There was that bright side, at least. The Bloodbones pooled their resources whenever possible, but there was never much money for anything but the basics, which didn't include a raging dark walker attack.

Traditionally, the newly inducted member's family threw a feast to mark their entrance into adulthood. But Ronin wasn't a child, and the attack spoiled any sense of celebration Sanaa might have had. She was more than happy to go along when Ronin ushered her toward Kane's truck.

Sanaa left the men in the living room to talk, while she got herself and the baby ready for bed. A bath for both of them was in order, and the little one needed a trip to the milk bar. They had only been in the village for a few hours–half a day at the most–but it felt good to be back home in the mountains.

Sanaa paused in the middle of slipping a clean onesie on the baby. When had she started to think of Ronin's house as her home? It was the truth, or close enough to pass muster. The Dragon made it clear that he wanted Sanaa and his daughter under his protection at all times. Unless he was willing to trade his fancy digs for an earthen house in the desert, that meant Sanaa was now a permanent resident in Casa de Firebreather.

There were worse places to spend a life, and worse men to spend it with.

Right on cue, Ronin stalked up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. The terrycloth towel around his hips brushed against Sanaa's bare legs as he pressed close against her, but his touch was gentle.

"How is she?" he whispered.

Sanaa shivered as his breath blew past her ear. Every time Ronin's fingers touched her skin her sex throbbed of its own accord. He could have stripped her and bent her over the bed right there, and her only objection would have been possibly crushing their infant.

"She doesn't seem to know what's happening. Then again she doesn't even know where her nose is...."

He chuckled and clicked his tongue gently. "She's the child of a dragon and a thunderbird. There's no need for her to fear anything."

Sanaa wished that were true. She wished that the world was safe for her daughter to grow and thrive the way it had never been for her. That she could give the girl the happy family life she deserved. But bloody desires and wounded pride had screwed that up beyond repair.

Still, it was one of the few nice, quiet moments since Niabe's first attack, and Sanaa didn't think there was any harm in enjoying it for a few seconds more.

"When will we name her?" he asked

Sanaa shrugged. "I should have had the ceremony a few weeks ago, but the Elders wouldn't allow it. I don't know if you noticed, but we're big on tradition."

"No, I hadn't spotted that at all. Just like I didn't hear the Seer ask when she can start planning our wedding."

Damn. Sanaa smiled and wiggled out of his hands. "Damned, old woman. Don't pay any attention to her, she's always butting her nose in where it doesn't belong." And when everything was over, Sanaa was going to have a nice, long reality check with Janna.

She padded into the kitchen and tugged open the refrigerator. Maybe the cool air would calm her the fuck down. But Ronin followed her.

"She has a point; our girl deserves two parents...and a name."

Sanaa snagged lunch meat, lettuce and mustard from the fridge and kicked it shut. "She's got two parents unless you've changed your mind."

"Then you deserve stability." Ronin grabbed a loaf of bread from the counter and tossed it to her.

"Are you kicking me out when this is over?" Even as she asked the question Sanaa knew the answer.

Suddenly, he was there behind her, chest pressed against her back, hand resting on her hip. "Why do you keep avoiding talking about our future?"

Sanaa focused on spreading the mustard over the bread, piling the slices of meat on top, selecting the leaves of green lettuce with just the right amount of crispness. Anything not to think about Ronin's breath against her neck, or how much she wanted to turn around and reach for his lips again.

"Because we don't have a future. Don't get me wrong, you playing Prince Charming is nice and all, but this isn't what either of us signed up for."

Ronin grabbed her by the arm, taking just enough care not to hurt her as he whirled her around. His eyes blazed red and his nostrils flared as he studied Sanaa's face. For a moment, Sanaa was sure she had gone too far.

"Shit. I didn't mean to–"

Sanaa's words melted into a low moan as Ronin leaned forward and claimed her lips.

* * *

Ronin’s blood burned as he sucked Sanaa’s plump lips. It was more than passion that set him ablaze. Sanaa’s words echoed in his ears. The challenge to his commitment was more than his dragon could stand. The heat of his kiss burned away her doubts. A whimper of surprise was all she could manage.

"Don't ever say that to me again." He gently nipped at the flesh of her neck.

His hands snaked beneath her tank top, fingers caressed her back, pushing the flimsy fabric away to reveal her supple, russet skin. Every fiber of his being burned for her already, just from the searing kiss, the simple touch. No. No, he had burned for much longer than that. Some instinct in him warned him away, but the Heat made everything else fade into the distance.

Ronin caught one of Sanaa’s nipples between his fingers, massing the firm peak. “You’re not weak, Woman. And you sure as hell aren’t disposable. Not to me.”

Sanaa moaned in response, a delicious note that sent a shiver of need through Ronin from the base of his spine to the tip of his rock-hard cock. He wrapped his arms around her, fitting the curve of her thighs around his hip. His towel slipped from his hips and fluttered to the floor. The scent from her spread legs wafted to his nostrils. It took everything he had not to slide into her right then. A grin spread over his lips as he reached between her thighs, gliding his fingers along the moisture he found there.

“N-not weak,” she whispered between gasps. “I didn’t say that.”

He furrowed his brow as he slid a single finger inside of her. One hand moved to cradle her throat. She wanted to protest more, he could see that plainly by the fire in her eyes. His Sanaa, always ready to fight, even when she knew she couldn’t win. Still she turned her gaze to him, eyes defiant even as her body writhed under his attention.

“Do you really think I’d let you stay here if I thought so little of you?” Ronin didn’t expect an answer, not when his fingers stroked and caressed her, bringing forth a chorus of moans as she approached the edge of orgasm. His poor Sanaa, her body was so neglected, so unfamiliar with his touch, that even gentle petting brought her close to ecstasy. That was a problem Ronin could manage. Happily so.

He lifted her onto the counter and moved to his knees before her, letting her sweet scent tease him. A taste of her appeared on his tongue, a faint memory from their first night together. Ronin leaned forward, dragging his tongue along her slick folds. She was just as moist. Just as sweet as she had been their first night. Their only night. Sanaa’s body jerked under his hands as the first waves of climax tore through her body. Her sweet nectar flowed over his tongue.

The taste of her on his lips. The feel of her skin under his fingers. His rock-hard member straining in the chill air. Her content moans and sighs, lingering in the silence of the kitchen. All of it hammered home one fact, one truth that Ronin had fought for months. Sanaa was his mate. He should have claimed her then.

A bitter note of guilt, however brief, was all Ronin needed to snap back to reality. He slid across the kitchen on his knees, pressing his back into the cold, stainless-steel oven. Sanaa leaned up on her elbows, looking down at him with mingled confusion and cautious hurt.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Fire and desire swam in his blood, muddling everything but her scent and taste. The Heat had him. Between making peace with his would-be mate and the stupid vision quest, incantations hadn’t been on his mind that morning. There was no point in trying now. The wyrd was nothing in the face of a dragon’s Heat.

“Go to the bedroom," he grunted out. "Lock the door."

Blind rage crept over Sanaa’s features, burning all the hotter for the lingering desire in her eyes. “What the hell is you’re problem?”

“Just go!” Ronin roared. Only distance could save him now, but he didn’t trust himself. Any path out of the house would lead straight to her.

Sanaa didn’t move. Could she hear the desperation in his voice? She slid down from the counter and knelt beside him. Her scent reached his nose again, almost overriding everything else.

Damn it, Sanaa, go!

She took his face in her hands, her touch gentle and warm. “I don’t think you want me to go,” she whispered, reaching between them to stroke his member. The soft hiss that fell from his lips brought a wicked grin to her face. “Doesn’t feel like it, either.”

“It’s the Heat.” His voice was low and rough in his ears, tinged with raw need. He couldn’t hide it from her if he wanted.

Sanaa leaned forward, letting her breath caress his ear. “It’s not the first time you’ve been inside me, Ronin.”

He hips lurched forward, a moan rumbled in his throat. “A quickie isn’t going to do it this time.”

She shrugged. “So, don’t be quick.”

Ronin took hold of her wrist, stopping her just as she started to explore his body. “Dragons mate for life, Sanaa. Do you understand what that means?”

“Like I said, unless you are kicking me out, I’m not going anywhere.”

Ronin grabbed her wrist, but her fingers continued to tease and caress him. “Sanaa, I— “

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said. “No excuses. No Prince Charming routine. I don’t need your heart, Dragon. Your body will do.”

What could he say in the face of that? He had no defense for her hungry lips against his, her moist entrance teasing his tip. No excuse or words of warning as she implanted herself on his cock, riding him with passionate abandon. Her lips on his skin, teasing and sucking his flesh, was enough to quiet his objections. His fingers moved over her skin, caressing every inch as if to leave a memory of him etched in her skin. She clung to him as her slick folds clamped down on him, milking him. It was over in seconds, but he could already feel the powyr of the bond taking hold.

Sanaa belonged to him. Even if she didn’t know it yet.