This fire is definitely not cooperating.

Not all dragons deal with fire in their professions, or whatever their elemental substance might be. Rumor has it there are water dragons but I think that’s probably bullshit. But anyway, not all dragons deal with fire. My sister Flavia’s a lawyer. High-stress, competitive jobs really suit us, like stock brokering or politics.

But there’s definitely a reason that Malek, Vyn and I are firefighters. We can’t exactly control the fire, but we can sort of… talk to it. It’s almost like when you look into the eyes of an animal and you connect with it. The way dog trainers are with their dogs, that’s sort of how we are with fires.

But right now? This fire isn’t interested in listening to us.

It’s the heat and the land; it gets hungry. It demands to be fed. We’ve got planes and choppers working, there’s two other teams with us, and we’re barely beating it back. We’ve had to evacuate a dozen homes, and I feel an angry twist in my gut knowing that those homes are lost. Those people will have nothing to come back to by the time we’re done.

I guess it’s the dragon in me giving me a sense of responsibility towards the land, towards people I’ve never met. We’re supposed to be guardians of the natural world, ambassadors between the land and people, and when something like this happens I can’t help but feel as though I’ve failed both.

“The fire’s pushing towards the west,” the chief says. “We’re going to need to split up the teams.”

“There are a few cabins up there,” I point out. “We should double check that they’ve been evacuated.”

With isolated cabins like this, deep in the woods, people don’t always get the alerts. People might not have Wifi, or might have bad service, or might even have purposefully detached themselves from the outside world. “We’ve got a wall of flames right now,” I tell the chief. “But there could be people on the other side.”

The chief gives me a look. “If anyone could check it out and make it back, it would be you three.” The chief doesn’t know about our dragon heritage but he’s picked up on the fact that my brothers and I seem able to handle flames that others can’t.

“We’ll check it out,” I tell him, nodding at Malek and Vyn. “Let’s go, guys.”

Vyn might fight me on things during our ‘normal’ lives, but when we’re in a fire situation, he’s all ears. He and Malek snap to attention and they immediately follow me.

“Spread out,” I tell them. “We need to walk the perimeter. Shift if you have to, but be careful. Keep reporting through the bond.”

Vyn and Malek nod. “We’re checking for survivors?” Vyn confirms.

I nod. “There were ten cabins in this area, last I checked. Vyn, you take east. Malek, you go north. I’ll take west.”

Malek grunts in acknowledgment, and we all start walking in different directions. Once I’m alone, away from everyone else, I start to transform.

I have to strip first so that my emerging wings don’t damage my fire gear, which could potentially put me in an awkward position. Makes me wish I had super speed or something so that nobody would have time to notice, but if one of the other firefighters walks by right now, he’s getting an eyeful.

Once I’ve stripped, the shift begins.

My wings split off from where they’re folded up against my spine, almost like an accordion. Most of the time, it just looks like I have two long thin scars running down either side of my spine. But when I shift, they split open, and my wings stretch out.

It’s not exactly pretty.

The natural glamour that my body has to protect my true form falls away, and I get a surge of adrenaline as my limbs and snout elongate, my second, sharper row of teeth emerging from where they’re usually retracted into my gums. My claws come out too and everything changes. I can feel my very bones shifting.

It’s painful, a bit, but after so many years I’ve gotten used to it and I just push through it. Within moments, I’m no longer human.

I’m something more.

I shake myself off, feeling the freedom as I stretch out my limbs and my wings. Then I take to the sky.

It’s smoky, which messes with my senses, but after flying for a minute or two I catch a whiff of human. I start to follow it, northwest, towards where I’m pretty sure there’s a cabin. Someone’s stuck in the blaze. The path that runs from the nearest town up to this area was consumed by the fire a couple of hours ago. There’d be nowhere for them to go.

As I get closer, I can get a better grip on who I’m searching for. Female. No fear in the scent, but that probably means they’re unconscious, and that makes my own fear spike. Smoke inhalation can kill someone as surely as actual flames. I have to get to her before it’s too late.

Circling on an updraft, I catch sight of a small building in a clearing, the cabin.

I touch down, landing next to a Jeep. If she had a car, why didn’t she use it?

The air’s thick with smoke. Not far away, I can see the flames licking at the trees. Forest fires move fast. We have minutes, tops, before this area is consumed.

I shift back into human form and hope she really is unconscious. A naked guy crashing into your home probably isn’t what you want to see on a weekday morning.

I bang on the door. “Ma’am?” I call out.

There’s no answer. Her scent is stronger now, even through the smoke, and something about it tugs at my chest. It’s an odd feeling I’ve never felt before. It’s almost like the family bond I feel when I catch the scent of my clutchmates or my parents, but it’s different as well. Suddenly, I feel like I must get through this door no matter what.

I open it, my eyesight clouded from the amount of smoke now surrounding the place. If I were a human I’d be coughing and spluttering for sure.

I see her immediately. She’s lying on the floor almost at my feet, clutching a bag of some kind. Her scent hits me like a kick to the sternum and I gasp a little. She smells like pine needles, soft and sharp all at once, and I just want to bury my nose into her neck to get more of that scent. She’s pretty, too, with dark red hair and a sharp, delicately featured face, freckles dotting across her nose and cheeks. There’s another scent, too, one that I can’t describe but basically comes down to her fragrance being undiluted. I mean that in the most intimate way possible. She’s a virgin.

Could she be…?

I try to shake that thought off, even as everything in me screams that she’s mine, that we belong together. She might be my mate but not for much longer if I don’t get her out of here. I’ll survive the flames, but she won’t.

I gently scoop her up into my arms. She doesn’t stir, and my heart thumps wildly in fear. I feel for a pulse, and find it, steady and sure underneath my skin.

She’s okay, for now.

I find myself brushing my nose against hers before I even realize I’m doing it. It’s like the pull I feel to her is overriding everything else, making me act without my permission, almost without awareness. I never want to let go of her.

Focus, Xerxes. I force myself to pull away.

I carry her outside, taking her bag as well. She was clutching it like her lifeline, so it’s probably got her important valuables in it. As a dragon, I can appreciate a hoard. Even if humans tend to get annoyed when I call their possesses ‘a hoard’. Pfffft.

Once outside, I transform back. I pick her up delicately in my claws, careful to keep her spine and head properly supported so that she doesn’t get hurt as I take off. My blood is singing, and it feels like there’s a ringing in my ears, almost but not quite a word:

Mate... Mate… Mate.