Drago held the sleeping woman in his arms. He gazed down at her with a slightly bemused expression. This was no ordinary thief. He could count on one claw the number of times a thief had made it this far and only then because he had allowed it.

The spells and the maze of staircases that ended in drop offs or dead ends had prevented even the most savvy thief from achieving their quest. How this woman had made it all the way to his hoard tantalized his curiosity. But more than that, she had ignored all the treasure, including the Dragon’s Heart which lay near her feet, choosing him above it all. Why had she come for him? What was it about him that had such an effect on her when she did find him?

Her presence had awakened him long before he had let her know that he was aware. After so many years of stillness, her presence had stirred the air and finally roused him from the slumber that had held him in its dark grasp. He had forced his eyes open just a crack to scan the room, irritated by the disturbance. There had only been the great mounds of treasure. Drawing in a deep breath, he had tried to determine what had awakened him. The soft sounds of her footsteps against the stone had echoed through the chamber. His ears had twitched and he had bit back the low growl that threatened to escape him at the intrusion.

He had felt the red hot lava of fury burn in his throat, and he felt it cool when the woman had reached out and caressed him. She wanted him as her treasure, and she certainly wasn’t acting as if she meant to take him by force.

“Who are you?” he murmured with a frown.

The sound of her sigh and her snuggling closer caused an unexpected wave of emotion to wash through him. He bent and sniffed her hair. She smelled different – not like any of the other species from the Seven Kingdoms that he could remember.

His gaze ran down over her figure. She had a soft, full figure. His eyes twinkled when he saw the mud on the knees of her trousers and shoes. She had been carrying a bag on her back, but it had slipped off her shoulder when she slid down the mound of treasure. He would retrieve it later – after he locked her up so she couldn’t escape.

She was now a part of his treasure. She piqued his interest, something that hadn’t happened in centuries, even before the devastation to his people. She also made him feel less… empty. He looked forward to the fight they would have when she realized he was derailing whatever her agenda was. Perhaps he would even discover what abilities she had that allowed her to get past the spells, wards, and non-magical traps he had created to make his castle impenetrable and the treasure beneath it safe from all intruders.

Impatient to get her up to his living quarters, Drago shifted without releasing her. He murmured the spell that would open the passage to the surface. The ground groaned in response, as if the Isle was waking from a deep slumber, as well.

Drago glanced up as the first rays of sunlight streamed down, touching him with its warmth. For a moment, he was almost blinded by the bright light. It had been so long since he had felt the sun’s warmth against his scales that a shiver of joy ran through him.

“Joy! Will wonders never cease? So many surprises today…” he marveled.

Launching upward, his powerful wings carried him and his precious cargo through the passage. He emerged and soared high above the Isle of the Dragons. His gaze swept over the terrain below him. Pride, sorrow, and regret warred within him. Pride for the magnificent castle, thick forests, and vast beauty of his kingdom. Sorrow came from the emptiness and neglect in a kingdom once thriving with joy and riches. But weighing heaviest on him was his regret that he had been unable to protect his people.

Drago quickly circled the isle to ensure that the spells protecting his kingdom were still strong. Satisfaction coursed through him when he saw nearly half a dozen ships – most from the Isle of Pirates – and the remains of the few who ignored the protective spells that should have warned them away. Not a single ship was intact. Was Carly’s ship among the wrecked or had she come another way? He glanced down when the woman in his arms moved. His claws tightened around her when she arched backwards. At first he thought she was trying to escape, but he quickly realized that she was just stretching when her mouth opened wide in a loud yawn.

Once again, he chuckled when she lifted a hand and rubbed her nose. The chuckle grew to a deep, rumbling laugh when she opened her eyes, took one look at him, and released a squeak of surprise. He had to be careful not to squish her in his claws when the squeak turned to a blood-curdling scream after she glanced down.

“Holy shit!” she exclaimed in a trembling voice.

Drago shook his head, his ears still ringing from her scream. “You have a very loud scream for someone so small,” he remarked.

“You haven’t heard anything yet if you drop me – and thanks,” she choked out, clutching her arms around his claws.

“Thanks?” Drago asked with a raised eyebrow.

The woman nodded her head. “For calling me small. I don’t think that word and my name have been used in the same sentence since I was about ten,” she replied with a rueful expression. “How can you talk? Heck… How can you be real? Am I dead? I didn’t really mean it when I told Jenny that exercising was going to kill me.”

Drago soared over the tall cliffs, keeping one eye on the ground far below and one on the woman in his arms. He was trying to process all of her questions. It dawned on him that she was the first person he had talked to since the Sea Witch’s devastation of his isle.

“What is your name?” he asked with a sudden need to know.

“Carly… Carly Tate. What’s yours? Didn’t you change into a guy or was I dreaming that as well?” Carly asked.

“Carly… I like that name. I am Drago, King of the Dragons, ruler of the Isle of Dragons,” Drago responded.

“King.… Wow…. I’m loving this dream,” she grinned.

Drago glanced down at her again when she released his claw and wiggled. He loosened his claws just enough to allow her to move. She rolled over onto her stomach and gazed down at the isle below them.

He was beginning to consider the possibility that she hadn’t come here for any devious reason at all, but how could it be that she had arrived here by accident, with no knowledge of where she was or who he was? Was that simply what she wanted him to believe until she stole the Dragon’s Heart? Was she an unwitting pawn that someone else had sent? Had he been meant to kill her or keep her? Who was she?

“What makes you think this is a dream?” he asked in a voice that hid his all-consuming curiosity about what she would say next.

She released a sigh and laid her chin on his claw. “It has to be. There are no such things as dragons, not real ones anyway – especially talking, shape-shifting, magical ones. Even if there were, which there aren’t, I hardly think they would be living undiscovered in Oregon,” she replied.

“I have never heard of the Isle of Oregon before,” Drago responded with a frown. “Which kingdom is it closest to?”

“What, Oregon? It’s between Washington State and California. I guess there are some islands off of it, but I wouldn’t call them kingdoms,” she replied, glancing back over her shoulder before looking down again. “Hey, is that a shipwreck?”

“Yes, some fools came too close,” he said, tilting his head trying to see her reaction to that statement, but she was turned away from him so he could not see her expression. “The spell I cast created a thick fog to protect the isle. None can penetrate it without striking the rocks,” he said grimly.

“You can do magic, too? That’s pretty cool. So, is this like hypnosis and illusions and stuff to make me think you’re really a dragon and we are flying? I have to tell you, this is the best act ever if it is. Though, how on earth I could have been hiking a frigging death trail in Yachats and then end up in some kind of magic show is beyond me, unless….” Carly looked up at him again with horror in her eyes. “… I’m in a coma and I’ve recreated all of this from the dragons and stuff in my head. Damn it. I’m probably on the operating table with my brains spilling out everywhere,” she groaned, dropping her forehead down to rest on his claw.

Drago’s deep laughter echoed through the air. “Where do you come up with these ideas?” he asked in amusement. “Your brains are not spilling out of your head. I can create magic, but I am no illusion and neither are you.”

“Well, if I was in a coma with my brains spilling out, I would probably be telling myself that all this is real,” she reasoned, lifting her head to scowl at him before turning her attention back to the ground. “Where are we going?”

“If your leaking brains cannot tell you, surely that proves that you are not in this coma,” he stated, turning inland.

“Maybe instead of spilling out, they got toasted by lightning and all of this is the result of an electrical shock to some recessive part of my brain,” Carly argued. “It was raining and there was lightning. That is a good explanation.”

Drago chuckled. “Your brain is not smoking,” he assured her.

“I didn’t say smoking. I said a shock,” she grumpily pointed out.

“If you were struck by lightning, you would be smoking,” Drago insisted.

“You are not helping. Are we going to the castle?” Carly asked, pushing up and staring in awe at the magnificent tower that was growing bigger and more defined the closer they flew.

“Yes,” Drago replied.

It had been over a decade since Drago had been in the castle. Thick, lush vines grew up the sides of the ivory colored turrets and the outer walls. He would have to cut them back. The cobbled stone streets, traders’ carts, and homes for the dragons wishing to live within the castle walls all stood empty. Pain filled Drago. The loneliness of the silenced voices still resonated inside him. He blinked and looked down when he felt something small and warm against his chest, near his heart. The woman had turned in his claws again and was rubbing her hand over his chest, as if she could feel his pain and was trying to soothe it.

“Where are all the other dragons?” she asked in a low, compassionate voice.

“Gone…. All of them gone,” Drago replied, blinking away the memories and focusing on the large balcony.

His massive wings rose and fell as he slowed his descent. He landed on the stone balcony, balancing on his hind legs. Bending forward, he reluctantly placed Carly on her feet before he shifted into his two-legged form. She stumbled back, her eyes wide with awe and a touch of confusion before she shook her head at him.

“That is totally awesome, in case you didn’t know,” she stated before walking by him to gaze down at the city. “This place looks like no one has lived here in years.”

“No one has,” Drago admitted, stepping up to stand beside her.

Carly turned and looked at him with a bemused expression. “Are you sure I’m not in a coma or dead?” she asked with a crooked, skeptical smile.

Drago returned her gaze. “There is one way to prove it,” he murmured.

“How? By pinching me?” she retorted with a roll of her eyes.

Drago’s lips curled upward in a wicked grin. “No, by kissing you,” he replied, reaching for her and pulling her into his arms.

“Holy shi….”

The rest of her words were cut off when he lowered his head and captured her lips. Drago felt the swift connection between them. He had heard tales of such a thing – a dragon knowing when he had found his mate by the threads of his magic reaching out to wrap around the female. He could feel Carly's threads connecting with his, sealing both of their fates. For the first time in years, Drago felt the warmth of another’s touch and he wasn’t about to let it disappear.