Mateo didn't just crack the doors to his father's hall, he blew them off the hinges. With the metaphysical awakening of the dragon inside him, a single vampyr in the room couldn't match him in strength. He sneered at the shocked faces as he passed them, unwilling to accept they were genuine. How long had his father known of his true heritage? Who else had kept this secret from him?

The urge to shift, to show them his true powyr, simmered just under the surface of his skin. After that explosive change on the roof, Mateo had spent the next several hours learning how to control the wild urge of his dragon. He was a quick study. The finely honed edge of his vampyr was much the same. For now, he kept the beast contained. It was a trump card he didn't want to reveal too soon.

Calla followed him fearlessly into the heart of the cognate. He sensed her intimately just to his left, a powyrful spiritual connection opening in his heart and mind. He knew she was wary, but her heart remained steady and she placed her trust in him. Mateo wasn't about to betray that gift. Not on his life.

As they approached, Estophen waved his hand to the side, dismissing most of the court and clearing the way. Mateo wasn't in the mood to wait his turn and even the standard challenge from his brother in the corner couldn't distract him today. He needed answers and only his sire could provide them.

"How long have you known?" Mateo demanded, his voice echoing with vampyr and dragon powyr.

Estophen opened his hands in a parody of welcome. "What have I known, my Descent?"

Mateo didn't buy the innocent act for a moment. "Is this why you turned me? Why you courted me into the cognate for years?"

"You're not speaking sense. Perhaps if you calmed down, we—"

"I won't calm down." Mateo punctuated his words with a deliberate burst of powyr that flooded the room. Lesser vampyrs were physically pushed to the edges of the hall.

Estophen frowned. He reached one hand out, palm facing Mateo, and the weight of his powyr fell from the sky. "You will calm down."

"I am no longer one of the cognate," Mateo hissed. "I renounce your will and your blood. You have no claim over me."

"Don't do this, Mateo. You have no idea—"

"I will hunt down the client that wants Calla dead," Mateo spoke over his sire, raising his voice for the benefit of the court. "And I will discover the truth of my heritage."

"You are a vampyr, My Descent."

Mateo made a fist with one hand. "You turned me into this." He opened his hand, extending vampyr claws to their full length. "I don't regret it. But first, I was dragon." Mateo pulled the eager beast from its den in his chest and let the transformation overcome him. It was fast, brutal, and powyrful. His wings flared out. His tail lashed. He towered over his sire and roared.

Calla shifted beside him, he felt it through the connection they shared. Her change was faster, more elegantly smooth, and she arched a back full of spines, rattling the scales together for excellent effect. She had his back against the cognate.

Mateo spread his heavy claws and growled softly at his sire. The sound emanated from his chest, pulsing with powyr. Estophen stared back defiantly. "Mateo Guerin, you leave me no choice. You are sentenced to death for treason and betrayal against the cognate. Your name shall be stricken from our histories and spoken nevermore. You are hereby erased." The vampyr consolidated his powyr and spread his feet, prepared for battle. "Kill them both."

Mateo struck first. With his long neck and larger body, he had significant physical advantage over Estophen. His sire couldn't brace and absorb Mateo's attacks if he simply ate him whole. Mateo dove with his head and teeth, snarling as he punched through layer after layer of vampyr fire meant to slow him down. He snapped at Estophen, but caught only air. Estophen dug his claws into the softer scale skin under Mateo's jaw and sliced down, flashing away just as quickly. Mateo swung his claws through the air. He caught fabric. Pants. Mateo dragged Estophen towards him, teeth ready to end this before it had a chance to really begin.

A huge impact knocked Mateo's head to the side. He hissed at the white-hot pain and blinked through a flash echo in his right eye. Kragen came at him again, reckless in his defense of his sire, but no less powyrful. Mateo swung his head up, avoiding the bulk of Kragen's strike, and dove down again with teeth, roaring. Kragen rolled inward, clawing uselessly at Mateo's heavily scaled chest. With a swing of his paw, Mateo flung his brother across the room. Kragen landed awkwardly on the long meeting table and slid off the other side.

Estophen was already up on his feet and out of range. Mateo took a step forward when the broken body of a vampyr sailed into the floor before him. Calla challenged four of the cognate at once, spinning and slicing the air with her tail. She arched her neck and blasted a pressurized stream of fire into the face of another vampyr. They fell to the tiles, crispy, but not yet dead.

Mateo backed away from Estophen. He'd come for answers, not slaughter, and if Estophen wouldn't provide them, he'd find his information somewhere else. The cognate was injured and that was good enough. They couldn't stop him and Calla. Their defiance alone would cast doubt on the group's reputation.

He dragged his beast back inside himself, stumbling through the change towards the entrance. Calla sensed his shift and cleared the way with another impressive line of fire. She followed his retreat and together they escaped. Estophen was a patient man. He wouldn't pursue them right away, not with his cognate hurting. But if he was smart, he wouldn't follow at all. Mateo had a feeling his dragon heritage was just the beginning. And once he found answers, the cognate wouldn't stand a chance.

* * *

Calla looked out across the LA valley from the top of a hiking path in the local mountains. They were accompanied by only the wind here. The weather was clear, but bitterly cold and without any snow to attract tourists, the entire mountainside was empty. It was as good a place to fly as any.

She turned to Mateo who had his arms crossed and a frown on his face. Three pale lines, fresh scars, marked his throat where the vampyr leader had caught him during battle. The damage to his flesh had healed, but Calla was more worried about the damage to his heart. If Calla hadn't been the target or if Mateo hadn't been the agent, he'd still have faith in the man who raised him and in the cognate to whom he had been loyal. Breaking those bonds didn't happen overnight, and the frayed edges were fresh and raw.

"Let's stretch your wings, shall we?" she asked, deliberately avoiding the heavy thoughts she knew weighed on him. He needed a break. Hell, she needed a break. It was a lot to take in and he didn't even know…

Calla smiled softly and took Mateo's hand. Their connection was stronger with touch and he couldn't block her out yet. He didn't have that much control. So, Calla pushed support and comfort through the link they shared, and teased him with thoughts of wind under his wings. That pulled Mateo out of his mood and his eyes shined at her. "Is it hard to learn?"

"It's instinct for a hatchling." A question begging an answer—whose hatchling was he? "I don't know if you'll have more trouble. Let's find out." She stretched her hand out to indicate the mostly bare mountainside. It wasn't quite flat, but it was clear of major trees and that was enough to get started. Hopefully it was a big enough space for his first crash landing.

Mateo shifted. His body curved into a bigger, longer shape. His tail thrust out behind him and great wings flexed off his shoulders like a regal mantle. His scales were a dark, heady bronze, not quite black on the tips of his horns and the edges of the spines down his back. The color faded to pearlescent beige on his stomach, wings, and paws. A contrast color on the underside of his body that would help camouflage him in the sky. If Calla didn't know better, she'd argue he was a relative of the crown. But no royal dragon would ever be unaware of their heritage. Mateo hadn't even known he was dragon.

Mateo pumped his broad wings once or twice and hopped. Calla laughed. "Once you get the hang of it, you might be able to take off from a standstill, but that's tough. You're more like an airplane than a helicopter."

He cocked his head at her, then assessed the size of the clearing she'd found. Mateo backed himself up to the tree line and stretched his wings out wide. With a lunge, he ran straight down the mountainside, pumping his wings as he went. In three beats, he was airborne. Mateo immediately faltered. He yelped, folding his wings in an attempt to stop or slow down. He crashed back to the ground in a tangle of limbs and tail.

Calla ran to him, trying to keep her laughter under wraps. Hatchlings often flailed in the air their first few lessons, but to see a full-grown dragon, a warrior, panic like a child was a bit comical. She knew he wouldn't appreciate the comparison, though. Calla put a hand on Mateo's dark-bronze muzzle and stroked the eye ridge she knew was sensitive to delicate touch. "You're all right," she said. "Keep your wings out and glide. When you fold them, you'll fall."

Mateo rumbled under her hands. She gave him a kiss on his nose and he blew hot air all over her face. Calla laughed and gave him room to try again.

And again. And again. And again.

It took several hours for Mateo to stop thinking he knew how to fly and let instinct guide the way. Calla offered what help she could, even shifting to demonstrate, but by the time he got the hang of it, the clearing was scarred with the history of his attempts.

He wobbled in the air, untrusting of the currents and wind beneath him. Calla watched his tail whip and twitch, balancing on the invisible lift of the sky. His wingbeats were intermittent, mostly reflexive now, which was good. A dragon was better at gliding across the world than sprinting from zone to zone.

Calla angled herself just ahead of him and tilted to the right. Mateo had to turn or run into her. He tilted gently, and when Calla straightened out, he followed her. She felt a spike of pride for him and pushed it through their link. They repeated the exercise, tilting left. Then Calla tucked the tips of her wings just a bit, angling herself downward. The wind rushed by her ears and tickled her horns. Mateo experienced a rush of adrenaline that spiked through their link. When Calla leveled out, Mateo followed her, steadier on his wings than ever before. He roared. That final piece of him snapped into place. This was where he truly belonged.

She circled around him, elated. It would take more practice, but she was confident he'd learn all the tricks of flight given time. She laughed and looped in the air, then brushed against him mid-flight, stroking her scaled cheek to his. There were more than loops dragons could do in the air, but he wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

The direction of her thoughts must have echoed down their connection, though, because Mateo knocked himself against her and nipped at her jaw. Calla spun away, enticing him to chase her. He did. And as she flew arcs around him, his desire flooded their link and drove sense from his head. Only instinct kept him in the air, and instinct demanded that he claim her.

Calla dove for the earth. Her dragon yearned for a proper mating flight but she had to keep control. Mateo's dragon might know what to do, but she could hardly expect him not to panic on his very first time in the air. Mateo followed her, diving down much faster than they had before. Calla stalled just before the ground, flaring her wings and pumping dust into the air. She shifted the moment she touched the ground, retracting into her human self in time to greet Mateo as he did the same.

They came together roughly, quick with the Heat and their desires, consumed by the link between them that gave Calla a glimpse into Mateo's mind and vice versa. He could hide nothing from her, and she never wished to hide anything from him. His body burned with the powyr of dragon fire, dominant for once over his vampyr self. He crashed into her. His breath was rough and wet, his tongue lapped at her neck. Calla stroked her hands down his hips and filled them with the length of his erection. He groaned, pulling her into his lap, and Calla couldn't resist.

He entered her body in a long, slow stroke. The fire dampened between them, settled into a simmer rather than a rolling boil. Calla rocked on Mateo's body, rising until his grasping hands pulled her back down. The Heat had dominated their first coming together, and it was present here too, but Calla felt Mateo's desire for her driving his body and she gave in gladly. They were warriors, but they were also lovers, and more.

Calla gasped softly, arching back until Mateo had to hold her up with every movement. His care for her, as much as his body, drove the heat in her belly into a spiral from which there was no return. Her climax came rushing up in a wave of powyr and she thrust it out behind her into a pair of metaphysical wings that burned and burned. Calla cried out softly, her body stripped of coordination.

Mateo curled in close to her, growling as his climax built. Calla pulled his face up to hers for a kiss, mostly lips and gasping breath, and said roughly, "Bite me, Mateo. Make me yours."

He groaned and when Mateo pulled his head back from her lips, his eyes were vampyr red and his fangs had descended. Calla's body quickened a second time at the sight. She pressed her thumb to Mateo's lip, exposing the sharp fang there and feeling an answering pulse deep in her core. Mateo's thrusts hardened. He rocked her forward, grunting, and his eyes fixed on Calla's neck. She tilted her head in offering.

Mateo struck with both fangs and cock. His teeth sank into her body and she welcomed him in from both ends, arching as a bolt of pleasure traveled from the puncture in her neck down to the shaft between her legs. Mateo pulled blood from her body and a scream from her throat. The overwhelming sensation of being completely claimed pushed Calla over the edge. She jerked in Mateo's hold, the climax so strong it left her wrung dry. Mateo held her tight as he matched her powyr with his own. He came in a burst, flexing his hips into hers and growling against her neck.

She whimpered into his ear as the cascade eased away. Mateo retracted his fangs and licked the wound until it closed on its own. That had to be a strength of his. Dragons were hearty, but they healed just as slowly as humans until they shifted.

He held her close as they separated, cradled her on the grassy hillside, and Calla almost felt complete. Here was a man who could meet her in the bedroom as fiercely as the battlefield. He just wasn't hers. Not yet. This business with the cognate wasn't over, she was sure. But that wasn't where Mateo's head was at.

He stroked his finger down her face lightly, gazing into her eyes as if they might never see each other again and he needed to memorize her face. "I can feel you. Here." He pressed his palm over her heart. "It's not like this with all dragons… is it?"

Of course he had his doubts. He wasn't a stupid man. Calla grasped his hand over her heart to hold it there. It was where he belonged, after all. "No. We can only feel each other. We have mated for life. I am the only one for you, till beyond the veil of death, and you are the only one for me."

"Mated…" Mateo's hand drew away and he sat up. Calla couldn't help but feel he was separating himself. "How long have you known—no." He put out his hand to forestall words Calla hadn't even decided on yet. "It was that night at the hotel. Wasn't it? You said I had gone into Heat."

"I wasn't sure," Calla said. She sat up as well, hugging her knees to her chest. "You are vampyr. But you were showing all the signs that a dragon male goes through his first time. The need to touch, the over-protection, your virginity—" He shot a look at her but she refused to flinch. "All males are impotent until the Heat, Mateo. You would have known that if you'd grown up on the island. At home. Where you should have. Why your parents took you away, I can't understand—"

"I have no parents." Mateo pushed himself to his feet. "I was nothing before I met Estophen. He took me in. Raised me. Trained me. And when I was ready to submit my life to the cognate, he turned me." He rubbed his face and turned away, turned back, hesitated. "I'm sorry, just… this is a lot. I need a minute to think."

He walked towards the trees, buck naked in the sun. Calla rested her chin on her knees, watched him go, and whispered, "It just doesn't make any sense…"