Low murmurs came from far away, through a long tunnel filled with murky shadows. The darkness felt thick, as though it had substance and she’d been swaddled in feather-down. Or buried under a mountain of cotton balls.

The idea should’ve disturbed her. Elise found it oddly comforting instead. The even drumbeat helped, echoing in her ear, vibrating inside her head, helping her surface a little at a time. A slow, steady crawl. A meandering incline, one she ascended, yet didn’t feel quite real.

Something to be concerned about or embrace?

Adrift on a sea of feel-good, Elise couldn’t decide. It seemed too far away to worry about—a mild worry at most, a pesky irritant at worst. Her chest rose and fell. In. Out. Easy inhales. Relaxed exhales, perfection as she crested through thick, fluffy layers only to be pulled back under as something cupped her shoulder. Each gentle pass came with a current. Heat washed in, lapping at her, sinking into her muscles, drawing out the aches and pains, smoothing her worries like a hot iron over wrinkled fabric.

Steamrolled. Pressed flat. Without a care in the world.

Such a nice change, considering her night and what had happened.

The thought prickled through her. She came up another level as the fine hairs on her nape rose in warning. Like the encroaching tide, awareness crept in, eroding contentment, piercing through her peace. Elise frowned, trying to get her bearings. Crap. Nothing but blur. Her eyes refused to focus, but as her mind sharpened, a feeling of impending doom poked at her. What had happened…what had happened…what the hell had happened? A good question. The perfect one to ask given something frightening lingered in the fringes of her mind. A shadow memory, one so hazy she could tell it was there, but when she reached out, couldn’t touch it.

Elise tried again.

The rough edges unraveled. She tugged on the mental strings.

A name surfaced. Cyprus.

“Here, talmina.”

The whispered words unfurled. She jolted upright.

“Shh, now,” he murmured, sounding close. “Easy, lass.”

“What?” Her hands flew out to the side and landed on something hard. Something warm. Something that moved up and down, in and out. “Where?”

A large hand cupped her face. “I’ve got you, Elise. You’re all right.”

Scottish accent. Calloused hands. The strong pull of swirling current beneath her skin, the heat as seductive as the timbre of his voice. Recognition slammed through her. Her eyes flew open and…Christ on a cracker. She still couldn’t see a thing. Blinking rapid-fire, she fought to clear her vision. He murmured to her again. She jerked her head back. Her focus narrowed, then came back on line. Tanned skin. Broad shoulders. A muscular chest. Comprehension struck. Cyprus, in all his high-octane glory.

She stared a moment before her gaze rose, skimming over a corded neck, a strong jaw, and a too-gorgeous-for-words mouth before colliding with a pale, purple gaze.

Elise sucked in a startled breath, realizing two things at once. One (and perhaps the most daunting), she sat in Cyprus’s lap, arms the size of tree trunks around her. And two (and no less urgent), she needed to move her ass, get up and go before—

“Donnae move.”

His gaze trapped hers, sparking in warning, and she froze. Dragon. She was sitting on a dragon. Or rather, a guy who turned into a dragon. Not that she understood how it worked, but really what more did she need to know besides dragon.

“You…you’re a…” She trailed off, unable to voice the word. Somehow, that would make it real, which was…moronic. Elise wanted to kick herself. Denying what she’d seen—and experienced—wouldn’t help. “I saw you.”

“Lucky for you.”

She blinked, not understanding. “Lucky?”

“Aye. Not many humans are fortunate enough to witness Dragonkind in full flight.”

Elise opened her mouth, then closed it again. Dragonkind? Really? That was a thing? A real species present in the world? The idea seemed insane. Although, the ‘in full flight’ aspect had certainly been spectacular. Better than any book she’d ever read. Which was…well, she didn’t know exactly. She wanted to say awesome. Fascinating would work too, but…

“You were on fire,” she whispered, staring at him in astonishment.

His lips twitched. Placing a finger beneath her chin, he closed her mouth. “That happens sometimes. When I get angry.”

“You’re not angry now, are you?”

“Nay.” His fingertips stroked along her jaw, making her shiver, making her want more of his warmth. “You’re safe from my fire, Elise. No matter what form I take, I will never harm you.”

“Oh,” she said, not sure how to react. Safe with him. The thought went nine rounds inside her head. All right, yes…strange as it seemed, she believed him. Her faith didn’t stem from anything proven. The conviction he told the truth was abstract, more of a feeling, as though the deepest, darkest part of her knew—just knew—her trust in him would never be misplaced. “You’re one of the good guys?”

“With you—always. With my enemies—never.”

Simple words. Lethal meaning. A little bit scary, a whole lot hot.

Elise swallowed, finding him as fascinating as she did dangerous. Which wasn’t the least bit advisable. Fascination should be the last thing on her mind. Escape should be the first, and yet Elise didn’t want to run. Despite what she knew—that he was vicious and different—Cyprus drew her like bees to flowers. Not normal at all, and as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip and goose bumps pebbled her skin, she abandoned prudent in favor of curiosity. Now, all she wanted to do was learn more.

“You have questions, lass. Ask.”

The perfect opening, but as she held his gaze, her thoughts refused to form.

Patient in the face of her silence, he leaned back against the couch, giving her more space to think. It didn’t work. The movement shifted her in his lap, making her aware of her body against his and—

Her butt brushed across his thighs.

Shock shivered through her. Dear lord, how had she missed the fact she sat butt naked in his lap: as in bare as the day she’d been born naked. All right, so he’d covered her with a sheet, but…

Heat flushed through her, and not the appropriate kind either. Had she been thinking straight, she would’ve labeled her reaction indecent. Except that wasn’t the word she wanted to use. Decadent. Delectable. Downright delicious. Yes, that…those words seemed much more in line with the obscene suggestions turning her brain into a racetrack.

Her libido yee-hawed and revved its engine, roaring onto the circuit before Elise could protest. She tried to slam on the brakes, but gosh darn it all, her race car named Desire was gone. Already at high speed imagining all the interesting ways Cyprus could drive her to the edge of passion, and beyond.

“What the…you can’t just…holy crap,” she muttered, trying not to squirm in his lap. She needed to protest…right now…before she did something stupid, like lick him. Planting her hands on his chest, she shoved, retreating even as she marveled at his strength. “Let me up.”

His grip on her firmed. “Nay, I like you where you are.”

At a loss for words, Elise huffed.

His eyes crinkled at the corners.

Hers narrowed on him. “Listen, Cyprus. I’m not—”

“Oh, but you are,” he murmured, keeping her in place against him. “You like being in my arms, talmina.”

The endearment gave her an absurd amount of pleasure.

She scowled at him. Enough of that. The arrogant jerk. How dare he tell her how she felt. Cyprus didn’t have a clue, except—he wasn’t lying. Or even a little off base. She liked the feel of him. Was enjoying being so close and…God. He was gorgeous. Magnificent in dark and dangerous ways. A man’s man—masculine, hard-bodied, the kind of guy who made a woman’s heart pound just by looking at him. And the kind who rarely, if ever, looked her way. Not that she didn’t deserve his attention. She was pretty enough. Liked herself just fine, but most men preferred sexy and curvy and flirty.

Sad to say, but the universe hadn’t waved its magic wand over her. Nope. Not even close. She’d gotten the short end of that stick. Didn’t embody natural grace or put-together perfection, never mind have the ability to turn on a hip-swinging, pouty-lipped act. She’d gotten the book worm gene instead, preferring libraries to bars and solitude to other people’s company. A fact Amantha lamented every time her friend wanted her to dress up and go out.

The thought closed her throat, then her mouth. As the silence stretched, she couldn’t think of a single, intelligent thing to say. So typical. Completely unfair. She always choked in front of hot guys.

“A wee bit stymied, are you?”

“Or maybe it’s a standoff.” Elise blinked, surprised the snarky comment had come out of her mouth. Thank you, brain. Finally. A comeback to put in the non-stupid column.

He raised a brow. “You staring me down?”

“Could be.”

“Think you’ll win?”

While naked beneath a sheet he controlled? Elise swallowed a snort. Fat chance. Intuition told her she wouldn’t be winning anything until she put her clothes back on. “No, but I can’t just let you walk all over me. That must be a Dragonkind law, or something.”

He laughed. “You’re going tae be trouble, I can tell.”

The approval in his eyes stroked over her. Her heart hitched. Wow, a compliment. A sincere one. How Elise knew, she wasn’t sure, but somehow, she sensed his admiration. The truth was right there, shimmering in the air between them, so close she perceived it first and saw it second. And as she drank his appreciation in like a plant too long without water, awe circled, making her chest go tight.

He brushed the hair away from her face. “All right, lass?”

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. “I don’t know. I feel strange.”

“Completely normal,” he said, watching her. “It’ll take you some time tae adjust.”

“To what?”

“Me. Energy-fuse. Plus, you’ve more healing yet tae do.”

Healing? Elise frowned. She’d been hurt? The question sparked a hidden memory. She sucked in a quick breath. The cathedral. The attack. That god awful blue dragon. Her hand flew to her shoulder. Smooth skin, no longer torn open by sharp teeth and the brutal slice of claws. Remembered pain jolted through her. Twisting away from Cyprus, she checked her back. Same story: no cuts, no blood, nothing but healed skin a little sensitive to the touch.

“God.” Elise tried to scramble off his lap. She needed to check—

“Be still, lass,” he said, preventing her flight from his arms.

“Let go.” Panic made her push against him. “I have to go. I have to—”

“Let me hold you.”

She shook her head.

His arm tightened around her shoulders. The large hand wrapped over the top of her thigh flexed. “Donnae press me, lass. I’ll not let you go yet. Your leg isn’t healed.”

“Not healed?” she asked with a squeak, sounding like a mouse being eaten by a cat. “It’s broken?”

“In two places.”

“Grizgunn.”

“Aye.” Purple irises shimmering, Cyprus bared his teeth on a growl. “The bloody bastard. I’m going tae rip his guts out his spine when I find him.”

A shiver of fear rumbled through her. “You’re going after him?”

“He hurt you. He dies.”

The violent promise in his eyes should’ve scared her. It didn’t. His fierceness reassured her instead. Something in his tone, something on his face, the determined set of his jaw confirmed what she already knew—she was safe with him. Despite her misgivings and all the dragon craziness, Cyprus spoke the truth. He would never hurt her. But even better? He would defend her too.

Disbelief welled deep inside her.

No one had ever fought for her before. Not even her parents. Tough love ruled in her house: solve your own problems. How many times had she heard that growing up? Been left alone when she’d needed someone to help? Always. Over and over. No one had been there to take the brunt, never mind sought to right a wrong on her behalf.

But Cyprus would. In a heartbeat. Without really knowing her.

The unexpected gift gripped her heart and squeezed. Gratitude and astonishment leaked out, filling her so full tears stung her eyes.

The vicious glint in Cyprus’s gaze softened. Drawing her closer, he tucked her head beneath his chin. “Go ahead, talmina—cry. You’ve earned the right. I’ll wait.”

Elise tried to huff in annoyance. The sound got stuck inside her chest. Absurd. She didn’t need his permission to cry. But as she fisted her hands in the sheet, struggling to stay strong, determined to keep it together, she realized—maybe she did need permission to let go. To let it ride and allow the hurt to escape, instead of shoving it back down like she always did.

The first sob surprised her.

The second broke through the barrier, forcing her to turn into his embrace instead of away. Cyprus murmured in approval, and as her first tear fell, praised her courage, telling her she was wonderful, that he was proud of her, holding her so tight he made her breakdown seem understandable. Normal, even.

His acceptance was the last straw. And as the flood gates opened, Elise cried even as she wondered what the hell he’d done to her…and what on earth he would do next.