Eyes on the sky, Cyprus leapt from his perch atop a high cliff. Cold air ruffled his wing-tips. Tucking each in tight, he landed on the church roof and climbed toward the steeple. His paws slipped across aging cooper. He curled his claws under. Metal groaned. The razor-sharp points of his talons bit, raking the hard surface, stopping his slid, making green flakes slough off and fall toward the cemetery below.

He hardly noticed.

The ancient tombstones snaking beneath tall trees didn’t matter. Neither did the humans asleep in the small village less than a mile away. If all went well, none of the villagers would ever know he’d been here, on the outskirts of town, looking down over the snug hamlet they called home.

Tilting his head, he adjusted his sonar. Magic whispered through his veins. Tingles swept over his horns as he broadcast the signal. The invisible vibration went wide. He murmured in satisfaction. Mimicry at its best. Elise’s bio-energy up and running, pulsing in concentric circles around him, surging through the air like a satellite signal. The perfect lure with which to set a trap. One Grizgunn would fly into any moment, except...

Cyprus frowned. The bastard should’ve arrived by now.

Firing up mind-speak, he nudged his first in command. “Wallaig—anything?”

Scales clicked, the sound impatient, accompanying a growl through the connection. “Nary a peep.”

Not good. Wallaig’s frustration signaled a trouble. The kind Cyprus refused ignore. Unflappable in a fight, uncanny at reading situations, his warrior was never wrong. Which meant if Wallaig didn’t like the current of state of affairs, the plan he’d set in motion less than an hour ago was about to go sideways.

Swallowing a snarl, Cyprus touched base with the others. “Anyone?”

A round of ‘nays’ came through mind-speak.

Positioned outside the three-mile marker to avoid detection, his warriors waited alongside Wallaig. The plan was simple. Nothing fancy. Set a parameter, broadcast the signal, and wait for Grizgunn to take the bait. The instant the bastard flew into the kill zone, his pack would close ranks and unleash hell, annihilating the enemy in short order. A great strategy…if the bloody rogues ever bothered to show up.

Pushing from his crouch, Cyprus he wrapped his tail around his paws and searched the horizon. His brow furrowed. Nothing. No one. Not a single a ping on his radar.

Concern rattled the spikes along his spine. “Something is wrong.”

“Agreed,” Rannock said. “It’s taking too long.”

Levin grunted. “With the strength of the signal, the rogues should’ve been here by now.”

“Which leaves us where?” Tydrin asked.

Good question. One he needed to answer—and fast—given Grizgunn didn’t appear to be falling for the ploy. Any other dragon would have. His mate’s bio-energy was powerful, irresistible to any male with a pulse and—

“Fuck,” Kruger said, sounding worried. “We may be in trouble.”

“Tell me.” Cyprus’s tail twitched as his disquiet increased.

Kruger cracked his knuckles. “Grizgunn is Randor’s son. What if the bastard shared the location of the mountain lair before he died? What if—”

Wallaig cursed. “Grizgunn might know where we live.”

“Even if he does,” Levin said. “The protection spell will close ranks at the first sign of an intruder, shutting the doors in and out of the lair. Grizgunn won’t be able to get inside.”

“Unless,” Cyprus clenched his teeth as something horrible occurred to him. “Randor was part of our pack. He lived in the lair before he fled. If Grizgunn’s DNA is a close enough match tae his sire’s, the shield might recognize him and—”

“Jesus,” Tydrin said, panic in his voice. “It’ll let him walk right in. My mate—”

“Goddess, nay.” Unfurling his wings, Cyprus took flight. He wheeled over the cemetery and banked north toward Cairngorm. He needed to return home…as fast as his wings could carry him. No time to waste. If Kruger was right, Grizgunn might already be inside the lair.

Terror tore at his heart. Elise. His mate. The female made and meant for him. If anything happened to her, he wouldn’t survive. No matter how short their time together, Cyprus knew he couldn’t live without her now. The bond he shared with her defied nature. Was so powerful the threads wrapped around his heart and squeezed, making him feel things he never had before.

Fear for her propelling him home, he reached out with his mind. If he could feel her, he could mind-speak with her. If he could warn her, then she might—

The bond flared, then sputtered and died.

He tried to link in again. Nothing came back. No signal. No connection. Just an empty void where energy-fuse should be, and a terrifying amount of silence.