To say she’d shocked Tomas was an understatement. What she didn’t understand was the rage. But the rage wasn’t directed at Chandra for obscuring the truth and her marriage, but at poor Ishaan, still pinned under him.

“You’re her husband.” Tomas leaned low and growled.

Ishaan didn’t know what Tomas was and was quite smug in his reply. “I am. For five years now.”

“It was arranged by our parents,” she hastened to add. For some reason, it seemed important she clarify that.

“He is your husband,” Tomas repeated, and she knew it was her imagination, but she could have sworn she saw smoke curling from his nostrils. Surely, he didn’t—wouldn’t—breathe fire.

“Don’t get too excited, big guy. We are married in name only. Personally, I prefer big, tough men like you.” An outrageous wink and a smile completed Ishaan’s flirtation.

Did he seriously just hit on Tomas? Chandra didn’t know if she should be jealous or laugh.

Poor Tomas certainly didn’t know how to react.

“How can you be married to Chandra and like men?” he queried. He seemed totally baffled.

“She’s a nice girl, but I like something a little extra between the legs.” Ishaan squirmed under Tomas. “Can’t you tell?”

At that teasing remark, spots of color appeared in Tomas’s cheeks. He sprang off Ishaan and put several paces between them.

“Explain this!” he roared as he shared a glare between Chandra and her husband.

She clasped her hands and tried not to chew off her lower lip. “As I was saying, our parents, being of the old mindset, arranged our marriage. I was really young at the time. Ishaan not much older. We didn’t have a say.”

“But he’s—he’s—”

“Gay. You can say it. It won’t bite,” Ishaan stated. “But I do.” He stood, and the brazen fellow flexed a bit. He did possess an impressive body. Tomas didn’t seem to notice.

“This makes no sense,” Tomas grumbled.

Chandra’s hands lifted in a helpless gesture. “It made perfect sense at the time. We couldn’t get out of it, and so the marriage happened. Both of us were miserable.”

“Some of us more than others, given they married me off to someone of the wrong sex,” Ishaan noted.

“It wasn’t easy at first. I mean, here I was, married to a man who wouldn’t touch me with parents who refused to listen. As it turned out, the only person I had to talk to was Ishaan. We came to an understanding. We would pretend to be married to avoid dealing with our families. In return, I got to follow my career, and he got to follow his heart.”

“And dick.” Ishaan winked at Tomas. “It always knows what it wants.”

“So you don’t sleep together?” Tomas swung a finger back and forth between them.

“Nope.”

“Do your parents not suspect?”

“Well, they have been getting on our case of late about having children. We’ve been staving them off with stories of my career going well and not wanting to ruin it.” She shrugged. “So far, it’s working.”

“Maybe for you, but this is not going to work for me.” Tomas appeared quite put out by her situation.

She couldn’t blame him. She was quite put out by her situation, too, but didn’t quite know how to get out of it. “Don’t worry about my marriage. It’s really not any of your business.”

“It is my business because you are my business.”

She wanted to say a few things in that moment like, “Since when?” and a totally irrational and girly, “Oh my goddess, he likes me.”

Instead, she got treated to her husband noting the tension between them. Ishaan’s brows rose. “So that’s how it is. I’m surprised at you, Chandra. What happened to your morals?”

She winced.

Tomas took a threatening step in Ishaan’s direction.

“You can calm yourself, big guy. I’m leaving. I can see I’m the third wheel here, so I’ll leave you two to argue it out and make up. Don’t be too loud and keep it off the couch. Leather stains.” With a wink, Ishaan left, but the air remained taut.

“You’re married.” Tomas sat hard on Chandra’s couch and seemed stuck on that point.

“Yes.”

“I’ll have to make some calls,” he mused aloud.

“Calls about what?” she asked, dropping back to her knees to once again mop at the mess she’d made. Fatigue had made her clumsy this morning. First, she’d dropped her spoon. Then she’d spilled her milky cereal on her foot trying to retrieve it. But that minor disaster paled to the big one sitting on her couch. The man she thought she’d left behind.

The man who’d found her.

The dragon in her living room.

Dear, Devi. What does he want from me?

I want you.

The words were not her own, and yet she chose to ignore them. Smart people did not pay mind to stray voices. In that direction loomed madness—and heavy medication.

Noting her apartment door still gaped open, she went to it and tried to close it, but the twisted and splintered jamb would require repair.

“Top of the chain, and yet you never heard of knocking,” she grumbled. She shut the door and, before it could pop open, wedged a shoe in front of it. She’d have to call someone to repair it.

The mundane thoughts only served to distract her a short while from the bigger problem still mumbling about legalities and contracts.

Chandra took a seat across from Tomas, knees crossed, hands set primly in her lap. A lady didn’t usually attend to gentlemen callers in her comfortable at-home wear, but then again, he’d seen her wearing less.

Felt her, too.

She ducked her head, hoping to hide the heat in her cheeks.

“You don’t love him,” he stated without any preamble.

It seemed they would jump right into it. “I care for him,” and before his grumble could get louder added, “As a brother. A friend. What could have been a nightmare turned out better than we could have expected.” Ishaan complained a lot, but things could have been much worse. He could have wanted to consummate. Chandra wasn’t sure she would have submitted to that.

“Why stay married if you’re both so wrongly suited?”

She shrugged. “Habit. Ease. A desire to not cause more drama in the family.”

“Drama makes life interesting, though.”

“Maybe for you.” Her nose wrinkled. “I’ve had enough to last a lifetime.”

He leaned forward. “You will divorce.”

“Excuse me?”

He waved a hand. “I cannot have you married.”

“I don’t see as it has anything to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me. I cannot keep a married woman. It’s just not done unless you’re looking to provoke a duel of some sort or ask for ransom.”

“The right answer is you cannot keep me, period,” she retorted.

A sigh escaped him. “You are being difficult.”

“I’m being difficult?” Her voice hit a high note. “You’re being arrogant.”

“And?” He blinked at her, not at all perturbed.

She made a noise.

“I can see you’re not going to be rational. I should have known, as your scent seems a little off.”

“Are you now saying I smell? Again!” She blinked at him, and the arrogant idiot did not look chastened in the least.

“No, your scent is fine. Delicious, actually.” He grinned and leaned forward. “Very yummy. But it’s got a hint of something different now. Some kind of tilt in your pheromone level. Whatever it is, I like it.”

She held up a hand, forestalling him. “I can see what you’re trying to do, and it won’t happen.” She clamped her lips tight.

“And what am I doing, doctor?” He said the nickname in a low, caressing tone.

She shivered. She almost melted. She held firm against his allure. “You are not seducing me.”

“There you are, lying again. I don’t have to seduce you. I can sense your desire for me.”

“What I desire is for you to leave me alone.” Now there was a whopper of a lie.

And judging by his wide grin, he heard it. “Much as I’d love to prove my point, other pressing matters need to be discussed, starting with the fact that your husband”—his lips twisted—“is a wyvern. What Sept does he belong to?”

“He’s a what?” She blinked at him. Surely, she’d heard wrong.

“Wyvern, as in the progeny of a human and dragon.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. Ishaan is as human as me.” She knew his parents. His grandparents. Sisters and cousins. They weren’t dragons. Or wyverns, or anything else for that matter.

“Actually, your visitor is right. I’m not human.” A fully dressed Ishaan emerged from his bedroom, pointing a gun. “And as for what Sept, why only the greatest one to walk this earth. Crimson.”

“Don’t you mean another wyvern bastard?”

Ishaan’s lips pulled into an ugly scowl. “You’ve got a big mouth, considering I’m the one holding the gun. I’m going to suggest, if you’d like to prevent any holes in your torso, that you put your hands where I can see them on top of your head, big guy.”

Did Ishaan seriously threaten? Her eyes widened. “What are you doing? You don’t have to hurt Tomas. I swear he won’t attack you again.”

“He’d better not if he enjoys living. You are both going to behave while we wait for my friends to arrive.”

“Your friends? I don’t understand.”

Hands laced atop his crown, Tomas appeared cool and collected. Insouciance personified in a dark knit shirt and snug black jeans. Sexy. “I’m going to take a wild guess, given what’s been happening in the news lately, and guess you’re working with Parker?”

Ishaan smiled. “Very good. I do work for Parker, but first and foremost, I am a loyal agent for the Crimson Sept.”

“You’re a bastard son.”

“I am and proud of it. My real father was brother to the current matriarch.”

“You mean you know about dragons?” Chandra couldn’t help but exclaim. “Why did you never tell me about this?”

“Because you had no need to know. You still don’t. You are merely a tool with the right genes.”

She frowned. “You’re talking in riddles.” Chandra took a step toward Ishaan, only to have the gun veer in her direction.

“Stop where you are,” Ishaan said, his eyes cold, colder even than the day they’d married.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Tomas spoke the threat in a low tone frosted with ice.

“You don’t get to make threats, big guy. I’m in control. Move, and I will kill Chandra. My people want you both, but”—Ishaan shrugged—“accidents do happen.”

“Accidents do happen, like your people sending you to deal with me. They know what I am. Who I am. Have your people sold you out? After all, you are but an expendable peon, a wyvern.” The inflection added the insult.

Ishaan stiffened. “I am a person of import in my Sept, unlike you.”

“I was more important than you the day I was born. I am dragon. But you…” Tomas gave Ishaan an up and down sweep of his gaze. “Wyverns have always been considered disposable soldiers, especially in the red families.”

The gun dipped. “You don’t need both legs to serve us.”

Surely, he wouldn’t shoot Tomas? Chandra didn’t recognize this stranger in her husband’s body. “Stop this.”

The gun veered in her direction. “Don’t move.”

“I don’t understand, Ishaan. I thought we were friends.”

“You thought wrong. Because of you, I’ve had to pretend I’m something I’m not.”

“So leave, then. I would have supported it.”

“I couldn’t. The Sept needed me. For years, they’ve had me watching you, cultivating you for the day you were needed.”

“Needed for what? Is this because of my research?”

“Your petty work has nothing to do with it. The experiments wanted someone of good blood and health, a virgin with a mature reproductive system.”

“Virgin?” Tomas latched on to the word and eyed her with incredulity. “You mean you’re married but still a virgin?” He snickered.

“I told you it wasn’t a real marriage,” she grumbled. “And now is not the time to mock me for it.”

“Actually, this changes everything.” Tomas stood straight. “I am going to assume killing him is out of the question.” Tomas then proceeded to answer himself. “Of course it is. Law enforcement officials always look to the wife first. I can’t have you being labeled a convicted killer. And Grandmother frowns on jailbreaks.”

“Stop talking.” Ishaan waved the gun. “I will shoot. I can assure you, my aim is quite good.”

“So is mine.” Tomas grinned, and distracted by that cheerful smile, they both missed his arm winding back and then flying forward, tossing a television remote at Ishaan.

Her husband flinched, the gun wobbled, and Chandra didn’t even have time to squeak before she found herself tucked under Tomas’s arm.

He raced toward the door and flung it open, his speed incredibly fast as he began bolting up the hall.

But the escape had just begun.

Ishaan recovered quickly, and she heard him shouting behind them. “You won’t get away.”

“I accept that dare,” Tomas muttered. “Hold on, doctor. We’re going to have to move.”

Hold on to what? From her position, Chandra could only watch. Head dangling, she got glimpses of his black boots as he pounded the dusty carpet of the hall, the once bold pattern dulled by the passage of feet and time.

Crack.

The gunshot proved loud in the hall, but she noticed no searing pain. Had Ishaan missed? Tomas provided a pretty large target, but she’d not heard him cry out.

Tomas veered left at a T-intersection. The apartment complex she lived in was large with the hallways for each floor forming a giant letter I with stairs and elevators opposite each other.

Their exit strategy involved stairs, so she was prepared for when Tomas partially tilted his body, allowing the meaty part of his arm and shoulder to hit the door at the end of the hall.

Cric-crac.

Another retort as Ishaan fired after them, and she almost giggled—hysterically—when Tomas muttered, “Sharpshooter my perfect ass.”

Yes, he did have a remarkably fine set of glutes.

Hitting the stairs, Tomas did not put her down, and he jogged them upwards, not down.

“Why would you choose the roof? This is not a good idea,” she exclaimed in between teeth-jarring jostles as he bounded up the steps.

“The roof makes the most sense. More options.”

If she were a bird, perhaps, or a dragon. Given Chandra was neither and didn’t wander around wearing a parachute, she wasn’t as keen on this choice.

“Gravity is not my friend,” she managed to stutter as he did the two flights much too quickly, hitting the final door that led to a lovely rooftop deck. Just in time, too, given she heard Ishaan yelling, “They’re going to the roof.” Then a firecracker popping in the stairwell.

The top of the building, though, didn’t look as if it would serve them any better. Tomas emerged, holding her under his arm, looking wild and crazed.

Everyone on the roof saw them. The crowd of people. The bride and groom—the first-floor neighbors, Rory Johnson and Tania Channing—standing at a makeshift altar. There were cameras. So many cameras trained on them.

So many sets of eyes turned to stare at Tomas and Chandra. She noted the many cowboy hats. The mustaches on a few. The rugged looks.

And then the guns came out.

Someone had invited Tania Channing’s Texan family to the rooftop wedding, and by the looks of it, they didn’t take kindly to men kidnapping women.

“Put the girl down,” one of them stated, the massive gun surely too big for the frail hand of the old lady wearing the light mauve pantsuit.

Tomas froze and muttered, “I did not expect this.”

“I tried to tell you the roof was a bad idea,” she grumbled.

Bodies shifted as those armed with weapons shuffled closer. Those without guns? Ripping strips out of the bride’s veil for restraints, and she wanted to laugh. No way would that flimsy stuff hold Tomas.

She tried to fix the situation. “It’s okay, folks. He’s not hurting me. He’s saving me from my husband.”

Someone muttered, “Hussy.”

Chandra might have retorted, but at that moment, the door behind them opened, spilling bodies onto the rooftop. Lots of bodies, Ishaan among them.

They weren’t Texan, but they also came loaded—with tranquilizer guns.

“They’re going to try and take you,” she yelled at Tomas.

“So kind of them, but I’m not ready to vacation again. Don’t worry. I’ll catch you.”

Catch me? “Tom-aaaaaaas.” She transitioned his name into a scream of epic proportions as she plummeted from the eight-story building. Since she faced upward, she got to see the blue sky above, the edge of the building, and Tomas, soaring off after her, tearing at his shirt.

Getting naked for the splat.

At least she could look at him instead of the ground that would kill her.

His eyes glowed a fierce green, his muscles rippled.

Blink.

Yes, they really did ripple, and they bulged, everything on Tomas grew in size, but he retained a man-like shape, two arms, two legs, and yet, he wasn’t human anymore. His face took on an alien, almost reptilian cast and from his back…

Her lips parted. “Wings.” The sound was torn from her.

His wings stretched from his back, completely separate from his arms. They fluttered behind him, snapping out into a wide fan before folding tight. Tomas arrowed down, and she couldn’t help but smile.

He’s going to catch me. He wouldn’t let her die.

His lips flattened, his eyes widened—

Wham.

Oomph. Chandra lost all her breath as something slammed into her body, driving her sideways.

“Tomas!” She screamed his name, instead of her goddess, which might be why Devi punished her by having her caught by a reptilian creature, something with human eyes but scaly skin. Scaly red skin with mottled patches. In some respects, he resembled Tomas right now, except for the fact that he clacked his teeth at her and his eyes flashed a malevolent red.

Movies said red eyes equaled evil, in a going-to-eat-your-face-off kind of way and laugh while doing it.

This won’t be good.

A challenging trill filled the air, the sound high and bright yet, at the same time, conveying such violent menace.

The thing holding her warbled in reply, attempting the same fluted speech and yet, somehow, sounding slightly off. A wyvern talking out of key.

Their flight was jostled as something impacted her captor from behind.

“Ffffucker,” it hissed.

It can talk. Which wasn’t as interesting as the fact that the lizard thing holding her was losing his grip.

Don’t drop me.

Too late.

She was falling!

She didn’t have the breath to scream and lost what little she had as her flight abruptly halted. Someone caught her. Green eyes. Tomas.

Thank, Devi.

She hugged him close. “Thank you for not letting me splat.”

His chest rumbled. “Welcome.” A word that warmed, but she shivered when he said, “Hold on tight.”

Down. Down. Down, he dipped, his wings coasting along air currents she couldn’t see but felt streaming over her face.

Buildings whipped past, so fast their windows and façade were but a blurring glimpse. She wondered that he didn’t worry about hitting something, but then again, what kind of traffic would they run into in this dead space between buildings? A drone or two might catch them on camera, but videos were uploaded by the tens of thousands each and every day. Only a few ever truly stood out.

Still, though, there was something eerily exhilarating about their hectic flight. Seeing brief glimpses of them in the mirrored glass.

She wondered if they’d make the news.

Oh, Devi. Please don’t let me be on the news. If her father or the family saw…

Approaching a massive building, Tomas angled sharply, pumping his wings hard to grab some height.

“Where are you going?”

“Top of that building.”

“What’s there?”

“A good spot to fight. It’s even got a bench for you to watch from.”

“You’re going to fight them?” She blamed the higher atmosphere for the squeak in her voice.

“I’m going to have to since I can’t seem to lose them. Don’t worry. I’ll handle your half.”

“My half. You’re going to fight all of them yourself?” She leaned her forehead against his skin, hiding it from what was about to come. “This is going to involve blood, isn’t it?”

“Lots of it.”

She winced.

“For a doctor, you’re awfully squeamish.”

“A research doctor. I deal in samples, not living things that ooze.”

And in the midst of it all, he laughed. “Tell you what, doctor. How about I take care of our little friends without any blood?”

“No way you can do it,” she replied as he landed atop the roof he planned to use as a battleground.

“I accept the challenge.”

“I wasn’t challenging.” She took a step away from him and noted that he wasn’t kidding. A veritable miniature garden adorned the rooftop, the grass totally fake, as were most of the potted plants, but still, it served to give the place a park-like atmosphere replete with crushed stone pathways leading to a gazebo area, which provided shade and a bench. An occupied bench.

An old fellow sat there, cigarette dangling from his lip.

“You might want to leave,” Tomas advised as he seated a bemused Chandra. “This is not business humans need to see.”

The old fellow ground out the cigarette and took off at a run.

A rather large part of Chandra wanted to follow. Things were about to get violent again.

And naked. While Tomas had turned on his beast mode, he’d managed to keep his pants. So why did he shed them now?

She averted her gaze.

He laughed, a low rumble that she’d come to know but hinting at a bit of darkness. Something different and primal.

He uttered a cry, another of those odd, trilling sounds from the battle in the sky. She whirled and beheld him. A dragon unleashed and glorious.

In the midday sun, his scales held an iridescent sheen, the black almost having a rainbow quality as he shifted.

“Beautiful.”

I know.

The voice came from within her mind, causing her to gasp, and then she held her breath as Tomas sprang into the sky.

He hung in the air, using only a rhythmic flap of his wings to keep him steady. Approaching fast in the bright blue sky were several dark shapes, seven by her count. And among them, one dragon.

It didn’t seem like a fair fight, and yet, she didn’t know what to do to help.

Unperturbed, Tomas did nothing but hover, flapping his wings enough to remain aloft. He waited until the first of the wyverns was close, and then he moved.

A dart forward and he grabbed the red-skinned guy who looked an awful lot like the raakshas who’d attacked her car. The legs, still encased in track pants and shoes, flailed, kicking at Tomas, but his larger dragon form didn’t even flinch. He twisted the wyvern as if it were a toy and tossed it.

How’s that for no blood?

The voice sounded so pleased with itself. Chandra turned away.

She understood his need to act, but she couldn’t bring herself to watch. A lack of attention meant she didn’t see the wyvern that snuck in behind her, close enough to Chandra that she could smell its breath, pungent with garlic.

Chandra whirled but wasn’t quick enough to evade the grasping claws. “Tomas!” She shouted his name as the thing dragged her to the edge of the building. “Tomas,” she screamed again as the wyvern perched on the lip of the parapet.

She looked over the thing’s shoulder to find Tomas. He stood in the middle of the roof, facing off with Parker.

“Will you die like a man, without begging, or show your cowardly belly and plead for your miserable life?” Tomas asked, his voice powerful enough to cut through all noise.

In the silence that followed, she clearly heard Parker’s next words.

“I’m not dying today. What’s more important to you, Tomas? Revenge, or the girl? Let’s find out, shall we? Drop her.”

Chandra began to fall before Tomas could answer.

She closed her eyes and prayed. Devi, save me. Because she feared Tomas might not.