“Come back to me.”

Jade heard the command coming from far away, but it reached her ears, spreading warmth inside her freezing heart. Strong arms anchored her to the here and now when a moment ago she had been enveloped in darkness.

Galloping heartbeats resonated against her ear. Not her blood pumping, but someone else’s.

Dragon.

Dragon, her target, her enemy, the man who had kissed her. Her very first kiss. He was here, holding her so that she didn’t fall into the vortex spiraling all around her. Her head spun, but Dragon’s arms kept her in place.

Water rushed up to her throat, and her mouth opened to let it all out. She gasped, then sputtered.

“Jade?” Dragon called, his voice close to her ear as his hands caressed her back in long, circular strokes.

She heaved again.

“She’s alive,” someone else said.

Dragon let her throw up more water before cradling her to him, rocking her. “You are okay.”

Then she was being carried away. She was dizzy and the movement made her feel sick again. He leaned her to the side, but otherwise didn’t slow his pace. A moment later, she was hoisted on his draglet and they were soon airborne.

She was in and out of consciousness a few times, but when she opened her eyes next, it was night again, and she was in Dragon’s bedroom, cocooned in a fluff of white linens.

The nocturnal breeze from the open window brought the lulling sounds of bugs inside. The fresh smell of red lavender salve spread from her body as she stirred. Someone took care of her wound while she recovered. She moved her arm expecting excruciating pain, but only encountered a bearable ache and almost full mobility. Shifter medicine worked better and faster than the concoction the Academy used to patch up its assassins, and combined with the nanites in her system, it had already fixed her gunshot wound.

Besides the bandage on her shoulder, she didn’t wear anything, and she wasn’t alone. Illuminated by the pale morning light of Coral, Dragon lay before her.

His body took a considerable amount of space in the enormous bed, and he only wore the sheet, draped over his abdomen, to cover his nakedness. Defenseless, he slept by her side, his dagger and holster on the nightstand.

Plans change. Assassins adapt. The words came back to her, dissipating the hazy memories of a dream made of falling and pain.

She could finish her mission.

The Academy would punish her for her first failing, but they would take her back. She wouldn’t have to spend the rest of her most-assuredly short life looking over her shoulder for the next killer sent to execute her. Her way out of her predicament had just presented itself on a silver platter. Only an idiot would let the opportunity pass, or someone with a suicide wish, and she was neither. She had left the slums of Celestia behind long ago and promised herself that she would never be prey again.

Her training took control. Jade moved in the practiced way that made no sound and slid her feet to the floor. Stimulated by the motion, her wounded shoulder throbbed. Not enough to stop her, but enough to advise her against holding anything with that hand. Good thing that she was equally proficient with both arms and could use the other to carry out her plan.

She glided across the polished cherry wood flooring that felt warm under her soles. At his side of the bed, she leaned over the nightstand and her fingers picked up the dagger in one fluid movement that ended with the sharp edge against the High Lord’s throat.

A firm slash of the blade, and the carotid artery would be severed. Her target would bleed out fast, and when she buried the dagger deep into his heart, he wouldn’t have time to shift and heal himself. She would have to decapitate him—the only way to keep a shifter dead—but killing was sometimes a messy affair. Jade preferred a clean killing, but with Dragon—no, not Dragon, but her target—that wasn’t an option.

A simple jerk of her wrist was all that was needed to put in motion the last part her mission. Afterward, her body would be on autopilot, executing the actions without her mind having to engage.

Just one single movement would end Dragon’s life.

Not Dragon, she reminded herself. My target. The reason I am in this mess, hunted down like an animal.

Her hand held the dagger hovering over his throat, close but not touching yet. She didn’t move, didn’t breathe lest he awake. Her blood thrummed inside her ears.

Dragon slept on his back, with his arm arched over his head. The letters DS were branded on his forearm, the burnt edges contrasting with his tan skin. For an inexplicable reason, Jade fought the urge to trace the contour of the raised brand with her finger. She blinked, swallowing a curse, and pressed the blade against his throat. All she had to do was pull her arm, then slash.

He saved my life. The thought wasn’t welcome, but it wouldn’t go anywhere. Instead, it took root and refused to leave. He could’ve killed you in the cave but didn’t.

Her hand subtly trembled. A tremor due to her poor physical conditions while her nanites were still working on healing her wound. Hunger, exhaustion, having barely survived a fight could do that even to the most skilled of mercenaries. There’s nothing else going on here.

She firmly centered her body, redistributing her weight on both legs, and readied for the kill.

You wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for Dragon, her inner voice said.

The dagger felt heavy in her grip.

Dragon’s chest rose and fell, his face as relaxed as his body. He slept the innocent slumber. Such a magnificent specimen of a man. A good, honorable man—

He’s my target, and I must finish what I’ve started.

The blade caught a stray ray of pink light. She looked down and saw her face reflected on the polished surface.

A fat tear hung at the corner of her eye.

Jade forced her hand to press forward, but she couldn’t.

Dragon’s opened his eyes then, and at the same moment, his hand was on hers. His movement was a blur.

To Jade’s astonishment, he didn’t disarm her. Instead, he pressed both their hands down against his throat until his skin bled. She gasped.

“You won’t have another chance.” The control in his voice was scarier than the storm brewing behind his eyes, now a deep cobalt.

His hand enveloped hers in a cage. She could only push down as if he wanted to make the decision easier for her. The tear welled and escaped the edge of her eyelid, sliding down her cheek, followed by a second and a third. Her arm sagged under the weight of her decision. Her fingers released the blade but his punishing hold kept them in place. She crumbled around his hand, falling on her knees and unable to stop herself.

His other arm caught her by her waist and hauled her on top of him. The dagger clanked on the wooden floor as he cupped her face with both hands. His mouth took hers in a punishing kiss that reverberated with the violent current sizzling between them. Her body hummed, molding urgently against his, seeking pleasure.

Without breaking contact with her mouth, he moved her under him, hoisting his torso up on his bent arm. The sheet was a feeble barrier that only inflamed her senses until she reached down to pull it aside, but he pinned her hands to the headboard with one of his.

Her shoulder ached and she winced. Dragon immediately released her, guiding her wounded arm to the pillow with a tenderness that was at odds with the hunger in his kiss.

It was too much.

Something finally broke inside her, and she sobbed.