Charlotte could still feel the ghostly press of Rurik’s kiss on her lips. Something had happened between them. She hadn’t just seen stars. She’d seen herself through his eyes, running on the beach with Damien and Jason. Before that she’d been flying high above the clouds, without fear or panic. Just an amazing, thrilling sense of joy. She’d experienced his memories, and he’d experienced hers through a single kiss.

There had been nothing in the Brotherhood files about that. At this rate she was going to have to write an entirely new set of rules about dragons, starting with mind-blowing kisses that make you share memories. But that was a problem. What if the next time they kissed the memories she shared exposed her for who she was?

Rurik’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Are you okay?”

“Sorry, just thinking,” she admitted.

Rurik tapped her temple with a finger and winked. “I’d love to know what’s running through that head of yours.”

She smiled shyly. “Wouldn’t you?”

Rurik bit his lip, trying to contain his smile, and for a moment she forgot they weren’t alone. Then Grigori coughed politely.

“You two going to disembark or stand here and ogle each other? I’m sure the pilot would like to refuel, and the flight attendant is cold because she can’t shut the door until we leave the plane.”

Embarrassed, Charlotte slipped her coat on and descended the airstairs ahead of Rurik, ignoring the chill of the wintry breeze. Her head and heart were still in the clouds, and there was no coming down, at least not yet. She and Rurik bid goodbye to Madelyn and Grigori and caught a cab to the center of Saint Petersburg, where they had a chance to explore the city.

“Hungry?” Rurik asked as they passed by a row of buildings close to the Winter Palace.

She nodded eagerly. “Starving.” Charlotte was dying to try one of the local restaurants and actually take the vacation she’d told Rurik she was here to experience.

Rurik led her to a cozy Serbian restaurant on the palace embankment of Saint Petersburg. The Gosti was famous for its Serbian specialty dishes, like pies with sweet and savory fillings, of which he ordered two and quickly found them a table.

Charlotte took a bite of her beef-filled pie as she studied the little eatery. It was painted in a deep emerald along the bottom of the walls, with a butter-yellow wallpaper with a delicate, somewhat faded floral pattern along the top half. A floor-to-ceiling bookshelf against one wall contained dozens of books—not that she could read any of them. The intimate setting reminded her more of summer cottages by Lake Michigan than what she expected to see in Saint Petersburg. Outside, the snow was falling thick and heavy, just how she’d always imagined it would.

“I can’t believe I’m really here.” Charlotte beamed at Rurik, unable to contain the excitement and rush of actually being in Russia, living an adventure she’d thought she’d never have. She reached out to take his hand. “Thank you for this. Truly.”

“Anything for you, my little rose.” He brushed her fingers with his other hand, and they sat there quietly until they noticed an old woman staring at them. She wore a thick shawl around her head and shoulders, and the deep wrinkles in her face seemed as ancient as her brown eyes.

“U vas yest ‘sil’ naya sud’ba.” The woman spoke in a rusty old voice, pointing at them, then to her own chest.

“What did she say?” Charlotte whispered.

Rurik seemed to consider the woman’s words. “She believes we have a strong destiny, and she wants to tell our fortunes.”

“Oh, can we? I’ve always wanted to do that!” Charlotte exclaimed. “Please?” Ever since she’d learned that magic was real as a child, she’d always believed in seers or people who could see glimpses of the future. Sure, most of them were just con artists, but some of them had to be real, right?

Rurik chuckled. “If you wish.” He spoke to the older woman and offered her the chair between him and Charlotte. “I will translate for her as she reads the cards.”

The woman hobbled over and eased down into the chair with a sigh, then removed a set of very old and worn tarot cards. The edges were rough and slightly crinkled. The illustrations, while faded, were still stunning in their design. She began to lay out the cards on the table. She made a horseshoe shape from left to right using seven cards. Her withered hands trembled slightly as she turned over the first. Then she began to speak in Russian, and Rurik translated.

“The Magician is the past, the cunning master of all he surveys.” The card showed a magician in a warrior’s pose, a sword in his hand, with roses and lilies all around his feet. His tunic was white with red robes, and he wore a belt that was made of an ouroboros, a snake eating its own tail. The old woman’s brown eyes flashed on the serpent ring that Rurik wore. It had a green jewel in its single eye, and its mouth was consuming its own tail. The ring was stunning, and Charlotte wondered how she hadn’t noticed it before. Of course, she’d been distracted by the rest of Rurik most of the time. The woman reached out and touched the serpent ring, then pressed her gnarled fingers gently against Rurik’s chest, speaking softly.

He translated for Charlotte. “Skill and confidence are yours but if misused can be your downfall. Beware of pride and arrogance.” Then she turned over the next card above it in the horseshoe formation and spoke again. “The High Priestess, guardian of secrets. She knows the secrets of life but shares them only with the wise.”

The card bore a woman with an enigmatic smile. She stood between two columns with a curtain suspended between the pillars. A crescent moon rested like a crown in her hair.

The old woman looked at Charlotte, speaking softly. Rurik did his best to match her tone. “You bear a great secret, hiding it from those who would betray it. You must trust your heart, or you will make a grave error.”

Rurik reached over and took Charlotte’s hand. She glanced at him, guilt making her feel hollow inside. How could this woman know the secret she harbored about the formula?

The old woman turned over the third card. It depicted a woman holding the head of a lion and facing its open jaws, controlling the beast, keeping it from eating her.

“The future. Strength,” Rurik translated. “Together you can control your destiny, but stand apart and all will burn to ash around you.” The woman touched both their hands, her eyes soft and serious.

Then she turned over the next card. A naked couple entwined together. Charlotte knew very little about tarot, but she recognized that card.

“The Lovers,” Charlotte said.

The old woman nodded, and Rurik translated again. “Opposition and attraction. You must both choose between your desires. Family or each other. You cannot split apart.”

She turned over the next card with a frown. With a little mutter, she slid another from her deck, putting it next to the card that had displeased her.

“The Emperor and the Sun. You have two forces in your life. The authoritative leader who brings order out of chaos.” She stared at Rurik. “He speaks to you.” She touched Rurik’s chest again. “He tries to guide you—listen to him or you will fail.”

Then she pointed to the Sun and spoke to Charlotte. It took a moment for Rurik to catch up. “He’s your guiding Sun. He is the center of all, the source of your love and trust—he illuminates you. He is a man of action but does not understand you are guided by the moon. Yours is a different path. The Emperor and the Sun will try to destroy each other, and they may succeed.”

Rurik’s green eyes met hers, and she swallowed hard. They were destined to be on two different sides if a war between dragons and humans broke out.

She turned over the second-to-last card, revealing a man hanging by a noose. It was upside down. She traced the line of the rope and addressed Rurik. His words came out soft and low as he translated.

“You sacrifice comfort and passion, even your heart, believing things will be better as a result, but you are destroying yourself and hurting her.” The old woman curled her fingers over Charlotte’s, and a ghostly smile hovered about her lips, one born of sadness rather than joy.

She reached for the final card and turned it over, revealing a beautiful woman pouring water into a lake. Behind her a star shone brightly against the night sky. The old woman brought Rurik and Charlotte’s hands together and then spoke one last time.

“She is your star, your guiding light. If you forsake her, you will fall into darkness. Every shadow does pass, but if you go on without her, your light will die and so will the fate of your people.”

The hairs on Charlotte’s neck and arms rose, and sharp tingling raced like an electric spark along her skin. She sucked in a breath, almost afraid she wouldn’t be able to breathe. The fair-haired man on the Sun card looked like Damien as a boy, and the Emperor looked like Grigori. The Magician looked like Rurik. The High Priestess even resembled herself. How was this possible? Was she just seeing what her subconscious wanted her to see? An invisible energy seemed to vibrate from the table and the cards. The old woman moved, touching each card as though counting them in a soft murmur of Russian, but Charlotte wasn’t listening.

It felt as if she were facing a thin veil made of gossamer threads. The curtain in her mind rippled, whispers coming from the other side. But they weren’t loud enough to hear. She wanted to push the curtain aside and cry out to the voices, demand they speak in a way she could understand. The answers seemed so close, yet she had no way to move the curtain.

How long can you last? a quiet voice asked. How long before you fall? But she didn’t comprehend. Fall into what? Or where?

She came back to herself in a violent rush.

“Charlotte, are you all right?”

She looked for the woman, but she was gone and the cards had vanished with her. “Huh? Oh, yes, fine.”

“Lost in your thoughts?” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She managed another nod. She felt open, raw, and vulnerable—from a tarot card reading, of all things.

“Yeah, I guess I was.” Charlotte wiped at her eyes, shocked to find tears coming away on her fingertips.

Rurik’s mouth softened into a smile. “You were shaken by the reading?” he mused. He ran his fingertips along the back of her hand.

“Weren’t you?” Her eyes burned with fresh tears. I am the guiding light for the man I plan to betray? Our brothers stand in opposition to each other, and we are the lovers who must overcome our opposite natures. It was all so close to making sense.

Her secrets weighed heavily upon her heart. The older woman had somehow known about the serum. The secret that, if shared unwisely, could upset the balance of the world. Who knew what the consequences of that might be?

Rurik smiled, but there was a bittersweetness to it. “Why don’t we go see the palace? It’s still snowing, and the view will take your mind off your worries.”

He’s trying to pull away. He’s afraid of whatever it is we could be together. So am I. But she could not imagine a world where she was apart from him, either. The old woman’s words trembled in her head like dew collecting on the delicate lines of a spiderweb.

Everything was connected, but she still couldn’t see how—she could only feel it.

“Come.” Rurik stood and held up her coat. She sighed and let him help her slide it on. Maybe he was right. She needed a distraction from the heavy weight she was carrying inside her.

As they left the restaurant, a light breeze rustled along the row of buildings facing the river. The wind played with her hair, tugging strands of it about her shoulders. Rurik stopped and watched her with a gleam in his eyes. Reaching up, he caught one of her loose locks, staring at the intricate snowflakes that clung to the dark-blonde strands without melting.

“You’re breathtaking.” He cupped her face, and his hands were warm even without gloves. “Just when I think I’ve gotten used to looking at you, it’s like the sun opens up and it shines on you all over again.”

Rurik, her beautiful scarred battle dragon, was murmuring sweet words that were breaking her heart. The serum in her purse seemed to weigh a thousand pounds. His green eyes glowed with an inner fire that mesmerized her. She leaned into his body, pressing herself against him. She didn’t care if anyone was watching. She was flooded with a hunger for this man, but it went beyond physical. It went to the farthest depths of her very soul. The truth was on the tip of her tongue. Could she tell him everything?

“Rurik…” she began, her voice breaking. Could she confess future sins to this man? Because she couldn’t deny it any longer—she was falling for him. Like a shooting star, she was burning up in his atmosphere, and there was no going back to the safety of the lies she’d spun.

“What is it? Are you cold? You’re shivering.” He curled his arms around her. The leather of his jacket was warm; his body heat defied the snow and icy wind. She rubbed her cheek against his chest, breathing in the scents of leather and man.

“I know.” The words shot out of her mouth.

He raised her chin so she had to look up at him. “Know what?”

“I know. I know what you are.”

His concern sharpened in an instant to a cold, almost feral gaze.

“What I am?” he said slowly.

“Yes. I know about you…and your brothers.” She drew a soft deep breath, her body shaking from fear. “You’re a dragon shifter.” There. It was done. Nothing could take the words back.

Rurik’s arms tightened around her. “How?” His eyes left her face as he searched the crowds on the palace embankment. He then jerked her away from the people. She almost tripped trying to keep up with him. When they reached the gilded gates of the Winter Palace, he stopped her hard enough that she fell into him.

“How?” he repeated.

This had been a mistake—she shouldn’t have told him. The rage in his eyes was chilling.

“A friend of mine saw your brother back in London. She knew he was a dragon. She—”

“Who is your friend?” Rurik snarled. His gaze turned from green to gold, and a fuzzy dizziness swamped her. She couldn’t look away, even though she wanted to. A compulsion to speak overcame her.

“Meg Stratford.”

“And how did she know what I am?”

“She’s a hunter.” She hadn’t meant to tell him that, but she bit her tongue before her brother’s name could slip out too.

“The Brotherhood?” Rurik’s face was pale, the dark scar turning pink on his cheek and forehead. The dizziness in her head faded slightly.

“Yes.”

He gripped her by the arm and started to drag her away from the snowy grounds of the Romanov palace. “You’re coming with me, right now.”

“Where are we going?” She tried to break free of his hand. Her heart beat hard against her ribs, and she swallowed the lump of panic lodged in her throat.

“We are going somewhere safe so I can get some answers. Do not scream for help. No one will come to your aid.” He glanced back at her, a fierce look that gave her chills. “You know what I am, so you know what I can do. If you cooperate, you won’t be harmed, but I will get my answers out of you—one way or another.”

Charlotte knew she was in serious trouble. The sweet, sexy man who’d caressed her this morning was gone. In his place was the dragon shifter she’d feared before she’d stepped into the nightclub. The intimidating enforcer from the Brotherhood files.

Telling him the truth had seemed so important. But now she feared it might cost her everything—perhaps even her life.