My ankle was better. Had Hecate healed me? If so, it was the only favor she’d done me while she had control of my body. A healed sprain was the least she could do, as far as I was concerned.

Still, it was nice to be able to move it and put weight on it without so much as a twinge.

Once I was finished drying off from the best shower I had ever taken in my entire life—it was that good, and that necessary after days spent in the middle of nowhere—I looked around in hopes of finding something clean to wear. The dresser held a few t-shirts, a pair of sweatpants. An old sweater. All of it was way too big for me, obviously belonging to one of the guys living there, but it was better than putting on my dirty hiking clothes. I wanted to burn them, frankly.

I then laced up my boots and was grateful Hecate had thought to pick up the one I had taken off earlier before bringing me with her. She might have been completely wrong to go through my head and take over my body, but she wasn’t completely unthoughtful.

Though if she expected thanks, she would find herself waiting a very long time.

All of this was done as a distraction, and I knew it. Heck, Owen might have suggested I shower as a way to distract me, too. From what? From whatever he was working out while I was in here and he was out there. Telling Hecate not to erase my memory.

I had to wonder if any of it was real. Okay, so I wasn’t dead like I had feared earlier. Great. But what if I was dreaming this? Was it possible to take such an incredible, soul-cleansing shower in a dream? If it was all just in my head, this was the most vivid dreaming I had ever done.

Which meant it was real. I was actually going through this. Witches were real, a witch had messed around in my brain and all that. All right. I had to accept it and move on and hope none of them felt like putting a spell on me or something.

What did that make him? I still hadn’t figured that part out yet. Why was he hanging around with witches?

My heart jumped when the lock clicked, and I hoped it was him. I didn’t know what I’d do if Hecate came strolling in—or, even worse, some witch I didn’t know.

But it was Owen, and I heaved a sigh of relief.

“How’d it go?” I asked, wringing my hands for lack of anything else to do with them. I tended to fidget when I was nervous, and I couldn’t remember ever feeling more nervous than I was just then.

He was tough to read, his face blank. This didn’t bode well, but I was willing to play along and stay positive. “Should I expect to have my memory wiped clean? I mean, while she’s at it, there’s a few embarrassing middle school moments I wouldn’t mind never remembering again.”

He chuckled, but his mood didn’t seem to improve much. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you more about the legends surrounding this range of mountains, but centering on this mountain in particular.”

“No, you didn’t.” Why were we talking about this now? “Are you trying to explain to me why Hecate has no choice but to wipe my memory clean?”

“Nay! Och, lass, ‘tis not what was on my mind at all.” He smiled then, wide and genuine. “I spoke to her, to Dallas, and everyone agrees that there is no call to tinker with your memory.”

“Really?” I couldn’t put into words how this made me feel. Relief didn’t seem to cover it. I threw myself at him, locked my arms around his neck and squeezed. “I don’t have to forget you!”

“You don’t,” he agreed, patting my back, but nothing more than that. When he didn’t hug me, I let go.

“What aren’t you telling me? Why did you want to talk about the legends and the mountain?” I quaked a little inside. Did I really want to hear this? What if they wanted something else from me in exchange for letting me keep my memory? “Tell me I’m not gonna be sacrificed to the mountain or something deranged like that.”

He burst out laughing. “Och, you’ve quite the imagination. Though I suppose that’s a good thing, as I’ll be asking you to use it in a moment or two. You told me a tale earlier of dragons—at least, you made mention of them. What if I told you those legends weren’t legends at all?”

I blinked, waiting for a punchline that never came. “Pardon?” I finally asked when it was obvious he was waiting for something from me.

“The dragons of the legends were real. They existed. I know this is difficult to understand, but if you can accept the existence of witches—”

“Wait a minute. Witches and dragons don’t exactly exist on the same plane of existence, and I still want to know what this has to do with you or me. What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to tell you that the dragons were real. That the witches gave their treasure to the dragons for safe keeping when it was clear their lives were in danger. Those pieces—including your diadem, which was lost—contained magic. That magic could not get into the hands of mortal man, for there was no telling what might come of it.”

“Okay…”

“Dragons guarded the treasure after that. It was considered their sacred duty.”

He was completely out of his mind, or he was pulling my leg.

“Okay…”

“To this day, the treasure still exists,” he murmured, staring at me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. “And it still requires guarding.”

“I don’t understand.”

His face practically scrunched in on itself. “I’m trying every way I know how to make this easier for you, lass, but you insist on building a wall in your mind. You need to listen to what I’m trying to say. Actually listen and hear me. Can you do that?”

“So long as you agree to stop talking to me like I’m a child,” I muttered, pulling my hands away. “I don’t like this. I don’t like any of it. I had a bad feeling when you walked into the room, and it’s only getting worse.”

“Do you not trust me now? Have I lost your trust that easily?”

“It isn’t that I don’t trust you—not exactly.”

“What is it, then?”

I got up, wiping my sweaty palms on my thighs before walking to the bathroom door and back. That didn’t do anything to ease the turmoil in my head.

I wouldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. If I believed it, that would make me crazy. I wasn’t crazy.

And I wasn’t stupid, either.

“What you’re talking about right now isn’t real,” I whispered, shaking my head. “No way. Either I’ve been very wrong about you, or you’re playing a trick on me—which I guess also means I was wrong about you. I didn’t think this was the sort of person you are. Taking advantage of me like this.”

“Never once have I tried to take advantage of you, lass, and I never would.”

“I find that hard to believe, since you’re asking me to accept the existence of dragons. God, I can’t believe I just said that out loud.”

“Say it again. Dragons. They’re real, lass. You might as well speak the word.”

I wanted to weep. To kick and scream and throw a tantrum like an overtired toddler. Stupid Molly. I should’ve known better than to think someone as perfect as Owen existed. There had to be a catch.

And I had just found it.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t believe this. You’re asking me to trust you when what you’re telling me is patently impossible.” I shrugged it off and tried to laugh, but it came out sounding more like a stifled sob.

“Is it impossible?” he asked. “You ought to know. Evidence of the presence of dragons pervades ancient history. Civilizations which by rights should’ve had no contact with each other—before the existence of long-distance sailing, you ken—all shared a common legend surrounding dragons. The dragons they spoke of, the ones they drew on papyrus and stone and linen, all bore similar characteristics. Now how is that possible, when none of them had any chance of speaking to or learning from each other? Entirely cut off from each other, yet they shared the same tales of the same creatures. How did they do it?”

I wished I knew. I wished like hell that I could argue with him, but he was right. Dragons, like certain other mythical creatures, did share a history across civilizations separated by oceans at a time when crossing an ocean simply wasn’t done.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

“But you do,” he murmured. “You do know it. The problem lies in not wishing to admit it.”

“Oh, do you know how ridiculous this sounds? Jesus, Owen. Do you understand what you’re asking me to accept? It’s too much.”

“You accept the existence of witches,” he pointed out.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I? I had a witch in my brain.” I tapped the side of my head.

“What you’re telling me, then, is that you need solid proof before you’ll accept reality?”

“Proof? Come on! What, are you telling me there are dragons living here in this mountain? To this day, thousands of years later?”

“A thousand years later,” he confirmed in a soft voice.

God, I wished he was smiling. I wished he would laugh and tell me it was all a joke. I might even be able to forgive him if he did. Granted, it was a mean joke, but I could forgive it so long as he admitted he’d been trying to fool me.

Because the alternative was just too much to accept. He was either insane, or he was trying to tell me there was a dragon living in the mountain.

“There’s a dragon?” I whispered. “Is that what you’re saying? Is that honestly what you want me to believe?”

“It’s more than that.”

“Oh, good, because I can totally stand more of this. I was definitely hoping you would tell me there was more to it than the simple presence of dragons in the world.”

“For once, I’m going to have to ask you to leave your sarcasm at the door. Granted, I enjoy it. I do. But right now, you need to lower your defenses and listen. Really listen. What I’m about to tell you is the complete truth. Nothing less than that.”

My insides felt loose. My knees were watery. My palms were sweating buckets.

“Perhaps you ought to sit.”

“Perhaps you ought to just tell me whatever it is you want to say.”

And then, once he’d said it, I would be out the door and running for the exit before he could stop me.

“All right, then. Have it your way.” He took a deep breath, his jaw tightening, his brows lowering. “The dragons in the legends exist today. I am one of them. So is Dallas. In fact, most of those in this underground compound are dragons, all of us from the same clan which split off a thousand years ago. Some of us came here—we aren’t certain why, though part of the reason had to do with protecting the treasure of the witches who were later killed here—while the rest of us remained in the highlands, protecting a mountain of our own.”

I barely heard anything after the point where he said he was a dragon.

A dragon.

A freaking dragon.

“Please, say something,” he whispered, his gray eyes pleading with me. Searching my face—for what? Acceptance? Approval? Understanding?

Right. Because there was any chance of his getting any such thing from me after saying something so entirely off-the-wall.

“What do you want from me?” I asked, backing toward the door.

I remembered how we’d come into the compound, and that miles-long tunnel we went through. Maybe it had only seemed like miles at the time, but I knew it was much too long for me to run through without getting caught. But Dallas had talked about a back entrance and asked whether it might not be a better idea to take me through there, past the cells.

It would mean turning right once I was out of the room, since we had entered from the left. I only hoped the compound was laid out in a straight line. If not, I was screwed.

But I had to try to get away. I had to at least try.

“What am I supposed to say?” I asked, taking one step after another and hoping he didn’t reach out and grab me before I made it to the door. “That I think you’re full of it? That it feels like my heart is breaking right now because I thought you were something special? That I’m gonna start screaming in, like, three seconds?”

“Molly—”

“No.”

“Molly, I love you.”

I shook my head. “Another lie. You don’t love me. You’re insane. You can’t possibly love me.”

“Why won’t you allow yourself to believe?”

“Because literally, everything in my life up to this point has told me I shouldn’t believe you! Why would you even ask me that? Are you that cruel? Or are you just clueless?”

“Which is it? Insane, cruel, or clueless?” He was starting to get angry.

And something told me I wouldn’t like it when he got angry.

I reached the door and slid a hand between my back and the knob.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered even though I could barely breathe. “I’m really sorry, but I can’t do this. I can’t be part of this.”

“Even if I tell you that you’re my fated mate? That my dragon knows it, and I know it? We’re meant to be together.”

Something inside me—my heart, my head, something—cried out like it knew this and was just waiting to hear it. Like we were meant to be, like he wasn’t entirely out of his head. Maybe a small part of me just wanted to believe that I hadn’t been completely wrong. I was still holding onto a sliver of hope.

Maybe I was just as bad as he was.

I turned the knob. It moved freely—he hadn’t locked it behind him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered again before pulling the door open just enough to slide out and into the hall.

He reached for me, but I managed to avoid being caught. Barely.

There was no time. I ran to my right, away from the rest of the compound and all the witches and supposed dragons living there. They were all lunatics, and I had been stupid enough to let myself get involved with them.

If they killed me, it wouldn’t be worse than I deserved for letting myself get fooled so easily.

“Molly!” Owen called out behind me in a tight voice. He was furious. What was he capable of?

I didn’t want to know. I wouldn’t give him a chance to show me. I had to run, run, and I did. I ran faster than I had run in years, like I was in the middle of trying to beat the cut-off throw to second and had to get to the bag before the ball did. I had done it before. I could do it now.

I had to do it now, because there was a lot more than a ballgame at stake.

Air burned its way through my lungs as I struggled to breathe through exertion and sheer, mind-numbing panic. Nothing else existed but escape. Getting away. Hiding in the woods somehow, finding my way to the road. It didn’t even matter that I left all my things behind, including my phone. I just had to get away from him before he hurt me.

Was I running the right way? I had no idea. I only knew I had to keep going. Even if I hit a dead end, I might be able to hide in a room. There were doors everywhere, all along the corridor.

Until there weren’t. Until the light dimmed and I wasn’t in the same place anymore. Or it was the same place, but it wasn’t as nicely updated as the rest had obviously been over the years.

This must have been what the tunnels used to look like. Dark, foreboding. It didn’t do much to soothe me, any more than the sound of pounding footsteps did. He was gaining on me.

He might have been bigger and stronger, but he wasn’t faster. Thank God Hecate had healed my ankle.

I realized there were cells up ahead. Just like Dallas had mentioned. Was I near the back entrance? I might be able to get out after all! My heart soared, and somehow I found the strength to put on a fresh burst of speed.

I flung myself down the passage between the cells with their rusted, rotting iron bars. It was like a dungeon more than anything else, and I wondered who they had imprisoned here over the years as I flew through them. Were they planning on holding me there, too?

I wouldn’t give them the chance.

“Molly! Let me explain!”

No, he had already done enough explaining. The time for explanations was over. I thought my running away like the devil himself was after me would’ve been enough to make that clear, but I guessed not.

I could see an opening up ahead. I ran for it, praying that I could reach it before he reached me. Once I was outside, there would be plenty of places to hide. Faster, faster, go, hurry. I gave it everything I had and finally burst out of the cave and into the night.

But there was no time to relax. I had to keep going. I had to—

A gust of wind almost knocked me off my feet, along with an ear-splitting roar.

A roar?

I clapped my hands over my ears, confused now, looking all around to see what had caused the sound. What had I just run into? I thought I was running away from the threat, but now this?

That was when I saw it.

When it lowered itself from the air to the ground, touching down, not twenty feet in front of me.

I took it in all at once, my brain screaming all the while.

A tail with spikes, spikes which ran in a ridge up its back.

Scales, shiny and greenish-gold.

Wings outstretched, reminding me of a jet plane. They were that wide across, if not wider. Thin webbing, so thin I could almost see the moon through them.

Bright, green eyes over a narrow snout.

Eyes that stared at me.

I might have screamed. Or maybe the scream was in my head.

The last thing I saw was Owen catching up to me just before I fainted.