Amara stood on the cliff’s edge, her eyes trained out towards the sea.

It had only been a few hours since Minach had left the house, but it felt like an eternity since they’d last spoken. An eternity since their arrival in this damned place. The only thing she knew for certain was that she missed him, longed for his presence. Nothing would have made her happier in this moment than to feel his arms wrap around her from behind, his heat engulfing her just as it had two nights earlier, when she’d slipped onto the couch to lie with him.

But he wouldn’t hold her, not ever again. They were cursed, the two of them. Cursed to care for one another. Even, perhaps, to love one another. But it was an affection that would always go unsatisfied, always be dashed by its own impossibility. If she got too close to him the bloodlust would set in again. Hell, even if that wasn’t a risk, she could never be his mate. Her physical weakness meant that providing Minach or any man with children would be all but impossible. Even if she could endure the strains and pains of childbirth, her genes would be enough to curse her offspring to a life like hers. A life of torment and painful, unrelenting desire.

It didn’t matter how she tried to rationalize. She couldn’t be with him. Ever. And the sooner she learned to accept it, the better for them both.

She turned back towards the cottage, assessing her current state of hunger. It was high time that she fed, barbaric though the practice was. She would need a little energy to deal with Minach’s eventual return. Perhaps a dose of blood would give her the courage to look him in the eye, after the way she’d pushed him away the previous day.

She should come clean, tell him that regardless of how highly he might think of her, she was nothing more than a monster. A monster who lacked self-control. A monster who wanted to devour his blood. A monster to avoid at all costs. And she was about to prove it by ingesting some poor creature’s blood.

Minach should stay a million miles from the likes of her.

As she took her first steps towards the house, she shivered. She would have attributed the reaction to her cold thoughts, but this was something else, something external, a strange, freak gust of chill wind throwing her hair into disarray about her face. The warmth of summer had disappeared all of sudden, replaced by a bitter cold.

Amara let out a hard shudder as her body erupted into gooseflesh, shivering, tense with a deepening apprehension. Her Sight may have weakened, but her Wolf’s instincts still thrived somewhere deep inside her, and the animal who still dwelled in a hidden place within her soul sensed the threat.

Even before the shadow spread itself across the ground before her, a monstrous form flanked by enormous, grim wings reflecting in waves of darkness along the land below.

Her stomach rolled with fear as she began to run for the cottage’s front door. It was only a hundred or so feet away, but she knew already that she wouldn’t make it. For the first time, she understood what it was that she’d feared when she and Minach had left London, understood the foreboding that had set its way into her gut. A predator was coming for her, and she would be too weak to fight. She might even be too weak to live through this day.

The Dragon came at her from behind, swooping down from the direction of the ocean to snatch her body from the earth, its enormous talons digging hard into her flesh. At first the beast dragged her along the ground, her feet acting as poor excuses for anchors, trying to slow her assailant’s progress. But the creature tore her upwards after a few seconds, lurching nauseatingly over the cottage’s roof before dropping her on the other side. Amara tumbled through the air towards the stony earth, trying not to tighten her body as she fell. Loosen your muscles, she told herself even as every instinct told her to brace for impact. Hit the ground, roll, then run as fast as your legs will carry you. If you can just make it into the house…

No.

If you make it into the house, she’ll burn you alive.

Run for the woods, as your Wolf would do.

She hit the ground hard, legs buckling under her, wind smashed out of her lungs. Nothing seemed to be broken, at least. With all her strength she pushed herself up, the heels of her hands digging into the hard ground. But she was too slow. The Red Dragon had already landed before her, a ghastly, jagged-toothed grin on its cruel face.

Any doubts Amara may have had that Tryst was a cold-blooded killer were obliterated in the space of a second. The Enlightened knew the face of bloodlust all too well. She knew the eyes of a murderous creature.

She knew, too, that each breath she took might be her last.

The crimson beast shimmered under the faint sunlight that forced its way through thick layers of overhead clouds. A mane of sharp spikes lined her neck, a menacing reminder of what how deadly a weapon such a monster could be.

Amara reached to the back waistband of her jeans and grabbed her knife’s handle, drawing it out to suspend the blade between herself and the enemy. For the first time in her life, her hand shook with fear. She hadn’t fed, hadn’t satisfied her body’s basic needs. She would be useless, she knew, against this monster.

The Red Dragon was too powerful a foe for a weakling such as her.

* * *

Minach’s Dragon shot towards the cottage, unable to see Amara anywhere. He could only hope that the Enlightened was safe inside and that he’d been wrong about the shadow that had swept overhead a few minutes earlier. Perhaps it had been a plane after all.

God, please tell me it was nothing more than that.

The house showed no signs of damage from the front, no smoke, no gaping holes in its structure. Yes, maybe he’d imagined all of it; the presence of a Dragon, the grim feeling of foreboding, the panic as his mind had begun to turn over in waves of terror.

Just to be sure, he soared over the cottage’s roof, hoping to find proof that nothing was wrong.

But his breath caught in his chest when the horrifying sight met his eyes. His heart hammered in brutal pulses, his vision turning red with instant rage. A nightmare was unfolding before him. All because once again, he’d failed as a protector. He’d failed as a man.

He’d failed the woman he loved.

Tryst’s enormous red déor was perched on the ground, talons digging deep into the earth, her neck bent like that of a devilish swan. Her victim lay under her, as still and pale as death. Minach could see that the Dragon was about to unleash what could only be a second attack, teeth bared, front leg ready to swipe at her helpless victim.

He shot himself downward, his silver-blue form shooting like a supersonic jet at his enemy. He couldn’t tell if Amara was moving, couldn’t even tell if she was still breathing. But it didn’t fucking matter anymore; there was no way in hell that he was going to let Tryst’s monstrous déor touch her. Never again.

With the sound of a thousand bass drums being struck at once, he collided with his enemy, hitting her square in the ribcage even as her head turned to face him. Her body flew through the air, tumbling like an unevenly weighted barrel before crashing to the ground, wings folding in at her sides just in time to prevent their destruction. The creature’s mass came to a stop, narrowly avoiding taking out half of the wooded area behind the cottage.

Rising to her feet and shaking out her menacing mane, she stared Minach in the eye, her own eyes glowing yellow-green.

“The half-breed is an abomination,” her Dragon’s voice barrelled through his mind. “An atrocity. You should never have brought her here, Minach.”

“You are the only atrocity around here, you treacherous bitch,” he replied, positioning his massive body between Tryst and the woman who lay on the ground behind him. “The Guild let you go once before, but you’ve proven what a grave mistake we made. Make no mistake; I’ll fucking kill you for this.”

“Fine. But if you want to kill me, you’ll have to catch me first,” Tryst said, her hind legs ready to push her into the air above them. “Leave her here to die while you feed your desire for my head.” A sadistic smile worked its way over her horrific, scaled lips. “You’re just like her kind, you know. A cold-blooded murderer.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about killers!” Minach snarled. “Not after what you’ve done. Kliev, Duncan, now this.”

“What I did was noble.” The words hissed through his mind like those of a snake. “I had to save the world from the likes of you. I had to prevent the Guild of degenerates from taking all the power for themselves. You’ve all become corrupt. You no longer value the purity of our lineage. It’s bad enough that your brother and Lumen chose to mate with humans. But this?”

“Amara is not my mate. You’ve attacked an innocent woman.”

The Dragon shook her head. “I’ve seen it,” she said. “I’ve seen you two together. I know what you intend to do, and I will die before I allow such a union.”

Minach’s heart throbbed with anguish. If Tryst had seen them together in one of her visions, then perhaps there had always been hope for them. A hope that she’d now dashed to pieces with her cruelty. “It’s not for you to allow or forbid, Tryst. You are not a fucking deity.”

Minach readied himself to lunge again, smoke huffing from his nostrils. Ready to blast flame at her, to give her the painful death she deserved. He ached for it, rage flooding his veins in hot streams. His Dragon wanted his revenge for Kliev, for Duncan. But for Amara, most of all. He wanted to watch the Red Dragon suffer for all of it.

“We’ll see about that,” she shot him. “Good-bye, Minach.”

The Dragon was quick, thrusting herself towards the clouds high overhead. Leaving Minach behind, forced to decide if he would pursue her or stay with the woman he loved.

It was the easiest choice he’d ever made.

He watched Tryst just long enough to ensure that she was truly gone before shifting and turning back to face her helpless victim. Amara lay on her back, her arms and legs twisted around at horrid, unnatural angles. On her chest was a dark stain that grew as he watched it, the blood slowly seeping through her blouse. Tryst had slashed her open, and from the looks of it the wounds were deep and deadly.

Minach sprinted to her side, falling to his knees to reach for her hand. He hardly felt the earth around him shudder under the weight of the Dragons landing to his left and right. Within seconds, Lyre, Aegis, Ashlyn and Trix were standing by his sides.

“What’s happened?” asked Aegis.

“It was Tryst,” he said. “She did this.”

“I’ll go after her,” Aegis vowed, his eyes turning skyward. “I’ll find her. Just say the word and I’ll bring her down.”

“No, please don’t go, not just yet,” Minach cried out. The idea of being left alone with Amara was too much for him to take. For once he couldn’t bear the thought of existing on his own. Couldn’t bear the thought of returning to a life of solitude. If he lost her…

“I need you with me. All of you. Please,” he choked. He turned to look at the others, a scalding tear streaking down each cheek. Lyre reached for him, squeezing his right shoulder hard.

“What the fuck do I do?” Minach asked. “How do I help her?”

Thinking fast, Ashlyn extracted the wooden box from the bag that Trix carried and opened it. She lay it on the ground next to Amara, who was struggling for each breath that she took. “Her lungs are collapsing,” she said. “We need to act quickly. Where’s the fourth Relic?”

As fast as he could, Minach extracted the Relic of Earth from his pocket and laid it like a puzzle piece with the other three to complete a perfect stone circle. It was too late now to hope that Amara could witness the joining of the Four. All they could do was assemble them and hope that somehow, their power would be enough.

Though enough for what, no one yet knew.

As the fourth Relic came into contact with the others, the shapes carved into each piece of stone began to glow bright: the symbols of Air, Water, Fire and Earth each emitting blinding light as though powered by an unseen and infinite source of electricity. A strange, immeasurable surge of power flooded Minach’s body, his senses invigorated, his mind clear, his body seeming to grow larger, stronger, more muscular, even. So, this was the strength of the Four. The power that the Guild had sought for so long was finally in their hands.

He could only hope that it hadn’t come too late.

He leaned down, his face close to Amara’s, and spoke quietly to her. “Can you hear me?” he asked. “Are you awake?”

Her eyes creaked open and she looked up at him. Her irises had turned almost black, drained of any of their former colour. Her face was the shade of ash.

Minach choked back a sob. She was dying. The Relics may have given the Dragons strength, but they had done nothing for her.

“Minach,” she murmured, the syllables coming out in a weak whisper.

“I’m here,” he said, taking her hand in his. “I’m here. Tell me what to do to help you. I won’t lose you for anything, Amara.”

“There’s nothing to be done. I’m too weak. You know it, just as I do. Just let me go.”

“No, please no,” he moaned, his heart aching. “If I let you go, I die as well, Amara. I won’t have it. I’m strong enough now for the both of us, don’t you see? I can help you. Please, just tell me what to do…” His voice gave way, fading to nothing. He couldn’t lose her, not now. Not when they’d succeeded at last. Not when the Dragon Guild had finally succeeded.

“You’re supposed to be my mate,” he murmured. “I don’t know how, but I can feel that it’s still meant to happen. You’re mine, and I’m yours. We were never supposed to end like this. I won’t allow it. Do you hear me?”

Her frail body erupted into a brief, weak coughing fit. Blood laced her lips, reminding Minach just how deeply and viciously Tryst had wounded her. He watched in horror as a cruel darkness spread through her bloodstream in slow surges, stealing her life away. The same darkness that had taken over Kliev’s and Duncan’s veins.

“It’s the same poison that she used on the others,” he said, turning to face the others. “Tryst must have had it on her talons.” It’s her way of making sure that my Amara won’t survive. “God, I don’t know what to do to save her.”

“There’s only one thing you can do,” Trix said. “She needs blood, Minach. Your blood.”

“No,” Amara muttered, though her eyes remained shut, too weak to even open. “No, please…” Her head drooped to the right, her body going limp.

“Blood,” Minach repeated. “It might strengthen her, but it would turn her. It would ruin her, change her forever into a Forsaken. She’s fought against the craving all her life, and it would destroy her. I would destroy her, Trix. I don’t think I can…”

“Minach,” said Aegis, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder. On the other shoulder he felt his twin’s hand, reassuring, calm, telling him that he was doing the right thing.

“It’s human blood that would turn her. But you’re not a human.” Lyre’s voice spoke the words deep into his mind. “You’re a Kindred, the most powerful of Dragon shifters. The Four Relics have been assembled now, and you have strength in you that you never thought possible. Give her the gift of your strength. Give her your power. It’s the only way.”

With his twin’s words, Minach understood the truth at last. He was no mere human, no mere shifter, even.

His blood was that of a great Dragon lord.