Naomi wasn’t scared easily. She’d weathered too many catastrophes in her life for that.

But Naomi was scared now. She’d woken to find herself tied to a rock near the ocean. She could smell the salt in the air and hear the waves lapping at the shore. If she craned her head just so, she could make out the glinting of the water.

Dimly, she still remembered the giant hand that had come bursting through the window and closed around her.

It seemed like a nightmare. She knew these things weren’t real—monsters, dragons, those things only existed in fairy tales.

But right now, she’d woken tied up with rope, and the last thing she remembered was that giant hand covered with glistening scales.

A dragon’s hand. Only that’s impossible.

She took a deep breath, trying to center herself. Panic wouldn’t help her now. She had to think.

My phone. My phone’s in my purse... Oh no!

She must have dropped it in the gallery, when the dragon had broken through the window. Either way, it wasn’t as if she could call 911 and ask for help with a dragon.

Just then, a terrible roar made the ground tremble. She distantly remembered that the dragon who’d kidnapped her had been covered in black scales gleaming with a strange, red sheen—like dark embers glowing with a hidden fire.

But the dragon who now came hurtling out of the sky towards her wasn’t black. He was covered in silver-gray scales that gleamed, the color of clouds—the color of the storm dragon she’d painted.

Maybe I’ve just gone mad, she thought, her heartbeat as loud as thunder in her ears. That’s impossible!

But she knew the dragon who came dropping out of the sky towards her. It was impossible—but he was right here in front of her eyes. The dragon she had painted. He was real. As real as the dragon who had broken through the window...

All of a sudden, the terror inside her drew back, making way for a familiar anger.

They’ve kidnapped me and tied me up here like a damsel in distress.

But she wasn’t weak and helpless.

If that was what these dragons wanted, they’d have to go and look for another victim. Naomi was sick and tired of life just buffeting her about like she was a toy. Everyone thought they could take advantage of her—even people like Jeff who claimed to be her friend.

I’m not a god-damn princess, she thought grimly, flexing her wrists to see if she could slip out of the rope. And I refuse to be bait.

Of course, it would be easier if she hadn’t worn her nice dress to the gallery. Usually, she was never without a penknife in her pocket.

The rope didn’t give. But now that her mind was clearing, she realized that the rock she was tied to wasn’t very tall. Craning her head, she saw that the boulder had deep indentations where it was exposed to the ocean water and the wind.

She must have lost her shoes when the dragon brought her here. They’d been her last pair of nice shoes that went with the dress—but she supposed it didn’t really matter anymore.

With a soft gasp, her feet searched for purchase on the stone. Then she drew herself up.

It went easier than she had feared. With her hands tied behind the rock, she could awkwardly make her way upwards. She could feel the thin fabric of her dress tear where her back rubbed against the rough surface, but she ignored it—right now, losing her last nice clothes was the least of her worries.

Halfway up the rock, she nearly slipped. Gasping, she scrambled for purchase, the rough surface of the stone scraping painfully against her arms.

Just at that moment, one of the dragons roared. When she looked up in terror, she was just in time to see the dark dragon spew a cloud of fire that hit the other dragon from below.

They were so close that she could feel the heat of the fire on her skin. With her heart racing frantically, she ignored the pain as she continued to force herself upwards—and then at last, with her final strength, she managed to pull her bound arms free over the rock.

She began to topple forward. She couldn’t use her arms to stabilize herself, and so, instead of falling, she decided to jump from the rock instead.

The impact was hard enough to drive her to her knees, tears of pain in her eyes as the rocky ground bruised her knees.

A heartbeat later, something incredibly large and powerful hit the ground just a few feet in front of her.

The storm dragon.

Naomi couldn’t move. At his side, she could see the dark scorch mark the black dragon’s attack had left. The fire had singed the storm dragon’s silver-gray scales.

It’s real. It’s really all happening...

The dragon groaned in agony. Even as she watched, his beautiful eye closed.

His head alone was as large as her entire body. She knew she should be terrified—but for some reason, she couldn’t feel fear anymore. Something about the dragon’s eye had been familiar. Something inside her suddenly yearned towards the beast, as though an invisible string was pulling her forward.

It’s impossible. I should run; I should call the police, she thought, even as she moved a little closer on her knees, drawn by an irresistible force.

And then the huge form of the dragon shimmered and turned translucent.

A moment later, the dragon was gone. In its place, an unconscious and very well dressed man was lying motionless on the ground.

It was a man she knew.

Gregory!

How was that possible? She’d seen the dragon with her own eyes—a heartbeat ago, the dragon had plummeted from the sky, and now—

Once more an angry roar broke through her thoughts. When Naomi looked up in fear, she saw the dark dragon soar, black wings blocking out the sun for a moment as he rose higher and higher—and then he was gone, swallowed by the clouds.

Naomi stumbled towards Gregory, all of her limbs aching. Her hands were still tied behind her back. When she fell to her knees by his side, she realized that now that she was no longer tied to the rock, there was enough give in the rope that she could wriggle out of it.

The coarse rope irritated her already sore skin, but she didn’t care about the pain. Right now, all she could think about was that Gregory’d been injured.

She gasped with relief when her hands finally slipped free from her bonds. Immediately, she reached out for Gregory. She pressed one hand to his cheek, the other to his chest—and there it was, the strong, reassuring heartbeat. It thudded steadily against her hand, despite the fact that she’d just seen Gregory turn from a dragon into a human.

He feels real... All of this is real.

She swallowed thickly. Nothing made sense—but she’d been attacked, and Gregory was hurt. She could think later. Right now, she needed to act, and do it quickly, before the fire dragon returned.

“Can you hear me? Gregory, it’s me,” she said, taking hold of his shoulders. “It’s Naomi. Are you okay?”

Gregory didn’t answer.

“Of course you’re not okay,” she said out loud, taking a deep breath to center herself. Then she peeled back the shirt, which had been scorched by the black dragon’s fire.

There was a large patch of burned skin, red and blistered, where the other dragon’s fire breath had burned Gregory from his stomach up to his chest.

Naomi drew in a shocked breath. No wonder he’d lost consciousness. It had to hurt like hell. She’d once managed to scald a finger with boiling water while cooking, and she’d wanted to cry for two hours straight at the pain. This... this had to be agony.

“You need a doctor,” she said shakily. “Okay. Don’t move. I’ll... I’ll figure this all out.”

Helplessly, she looked around. She wore no more than her by now tattered, former nicest dress she owned. She had neither her purse nor her phone. And she didn’t know this stretch of coast either.

It was all rocky and quiet except for the sound of the waves hitting the shore. When she’d gone to the ocean, she’d always visited the nice, sandy beaches further south. Up here, there were only scattered, overpriced vacation homes for rich people who valued privacy over nice beaches...

“There!” she exclaimed in relief. In the distance, half hidden behind another formation of weathered rocks, she could see the roof of one of those houses.

Perhaps whoever lived there had already called the police. The roaring of the dragons and the fire would’ve been hard to miss.

But even if no one was there, she might manage to find a way in and use their phone. Or at least trip an alarm and alert the police, which would work just as well.

Gregory needed a doctor, which was all that mattered.

Clenching her jaw, she grabbed hold of Gregory’s shoulders and began to pull.

As she quickly found out, all that muscle was heavy. The house she had spied wasn’t very far, but still it took her almost ten minutes to drag Gregory across the rocky ground.

Early on, she’d considered abandoning him there at the shore and running over to the house by herself, praying that someone was home who’d call an ambulance for her. But just then, there’d been a distant rumble in the sky. Terrified that the fire dragon might return, she’d continued dragging Gregory towards the house, close to tears, but determined that she wasn’t going to give up without a fight, dragon or not.

At last, when they’d made it to the house, she was nearly too weak to ring the bell, her hand shaking from the exertion of dragging a guy who was 100% muscle towards shelter.

Her heart thudding in her chest, she waited. Then she rang the bell again, and again, finally knocking on the door and desperately calling out for help.

Everything remained silent.

Taking a deep breath, Naomi straightened, wiping away the tears that had begun to run down her face. Abandoning Gregory at the door, she made her way around the house. It was a nice house—exactly the sort of house a billionaire would buy who wanted some quiet time by the ocean, without the screams of tourists splashing in the waves.

At any other time, Naomi would’ve admired the dramatic landscape—the ragged cliffs and wind-worn rocks seemed to cry out for an artist’s hand.

But right now, Naomi couldn’t think of anything but Gregory’s wounds and the threat of the dragon, who for all she knew could still be soaring above them, ready to attack at any moment.

No one was home. The patio was abandoned, chairs and tables and a large barbecue grill all covered up. When she looked inside through the wide glass doors, she found the same picture waiting for her inside: sofas and chairs hidden beneath white covers, and not a single trace of a human being somewhere inside the house.

Desperately, she rattled at every door and window she could find. Everything was locked.

At last she picked up a rock, dubiously eying a window. She had no choice, she told herself firmly. Anyway, she wasn’t breaking in to steal—and Gregory was rich. He’d surely pay the owners for a new window.

Gathering all of her courage, she smashed a window that seemed to lead into a guest room. The sound of splintering glass made her wince, but she managed to avoid being hit by the falling glass. With the stone, she widened the hole until she could reach inside, and then she opened the window.

Ignoring the aching of her battered body, she climbed inside, waiting for the sound of sirens—but if she’d triggered an alarm, she couldn’t hear any sign of it.

Anyway, right now she had bigger worries than an annoyed homeowner.

She hurried towards the door, opening it from the inside. Gregory hadn’t moved, and so she once more had to drag him inside the house. There was a large, soft sheepskin in the living room; when she laid him down there, he groaned softly, but didn’t open his eyes.

“Gregory? Can you hear me?” She pressed her hand to his forehead, kneeling down by his side.

His eyelashes fluttered. He didn’t answer her, but his breathing had sped up.

“Gregory?” she said again, carefully brushing away a smudge of ashes on his cheek.

At the gentle touch, Gregory at last opened his eyes. He looked dazed, but Naomi wanted to weep with relief.

“How do you feel? Don’t try to move. You’re hurt.” She swallowed as she looked down at his chest once more. Then she blinked.

Hadn’t she seen several large blisters just minutes ago?

His skin was still red and looking painfully burned, but there were no blisters that she could see. Had that just been her own panic?

“Hey.” Gregory’s voice was weak, but even though he had to be in pain, there was a small smile on his lips. “You’re safe. Good.”

Gregory sighed deeply. There was a strange, silver light in his gaze. She could see it clearly now; she was so close she felt as if she only had to lean forward to drown in his gaze.

His eyes were the color of a stormy sky—and that light was the strange, silver twilight of storm clouds illuminated from behind, like jagged bands of pure light crossing the sky.

Right now that light was gleaming in his eyes as he looked at her. She felt that same pull towards him once more, that force that told her that here was the freedom she had thought lost long ago.

His smile widened a little. “How do you feel?”

“How do I feel?” She sounded incredulous, and for good reason. “How do you feel? You just got yourself burned by a dragon! You just... You... You were a dragon!”

Gregory winced as he slowly pushed himself up.

“I would’ve told you,” he murmured hoarsely. “But there was no time before he attacked.”

Naomi stared at him. Several times, she opened her mouth, but she couldn’t think of anything to say. He didn’t even deny it! He didn’t tell her that she was going crazy, or that she must have hit her head!

“So... dragons?” she asked weakly at last.

“Ugh.” Gregory made a pained sound as he shifted a little. “Can you come here? Just for a moment. And then I’ll tell you everything you want to know. I promise.”

Again Naomi stared at him. Then he held out his arm, and even though a part of her still dimly thought about calling the police, another part of her, the part that had almost given up on her dreams, looked at his strong arm, remembering the powerful wings of a dragon as magnificent as a thunderstorm.

Careful not to jostle his wounds, she came to rest on the carpet by his side. His arm wrapped around her shoulder, and then he pulled her even closer.

“Your burns,” Naomi gasped.

“Doesn’t matter,” Gregory muttered. He drew in a deep breath, his lips brushing gently against her ear. When he exhaled, much of the tension seemed to have gone from his body.

“That’s better. Sorry. I should’ve protected you from him, but I never thought a dragon might attack—I only just found you...”

“So it was because of me?” Naomi frowned. “That can’t be. I’m nobody special, and dragons... dragons aren’t even real! That is, they shouldn’t be!”

Gregory laughed very softly. “I think we’ve given you proof that we are indeed real.” Very gently, his fingers brushed a strand of hair out of her face. His eyes were bright silver now.

“And you are special. You’re very special to me. My dragon has found you at last. I knew you had to be special the moment I saw your painting. Naomi—you’re my mate.”