For a moment everything seemed to stop. The universe, the zombies, even my heart. Suspended in time.

Then it all sped up, my body flailing, a pain so great I must be dying. I fell to the ground, covering Quinn, protecting him as best I could, even as I thrashed helplessly, screaming from the blinding pain.

Had I been bitten? Was this what it felt like to die? My skin tore, my bones cracked, my body swelled. I roared in agony until fire shot from my mouth, the bones of my face splintering and reforming into a huge snout.

Holy hairy hydra balls! I was a dragon!

Lumbering to my feet, I teetered for a moment before gaining my legs. I stretched to my full height, towering over the puny gaggle of dead flesh.

Zombies burned and fell before me. I roared again. This time in triumph. My dragon freed at last. Taking a great breath, I spread fire, burning all those in front of me, watching them go up like tinder. I bellowed the ancient war cry of my people.

My tail thrashed, knocking down undead creatures like a knife through butter.

“Twig! Listen to me.”

I gnashed my teeth. Who dared speak my name? I would grind their bones into dust, I would burn them to ashes, I would . . .

“Twig, please, I need you.”

I blinked. I recognized that voice. Quinn’s voice. My mate. My head swiveled on my long neck, searching for him. Where was he? Had those foul creatures harmed him?

“Down here.” A hand brushed my front leg. “Pick me up. I need to ride on your back.”

If it had been anyone other than my mate asking, I would have chewed him up and enjoyed every bite. A dragon wasn’t a horse. But this was Quinn and he wouldn’t insult me. Not on purpose at least. Besides, it would keep the zombies from reaching him.

Ducking my now-massive head, I lowered it to the ground. He vaulted onto my neck, one arm cradled against his chest. Had he been hurt? Had I hurt him?

I lifted him carefully, my desire to keep him safe at war with my desire to burn these woods to the ground. Once he settled on my shoulders, he began chanting and a red glow surrounded us before shooting its way outward in a swirling burst that lit up the entire swamp. Little dots of red ate away at the mist, and within seconds we could see our surroundings.

There were still hordes of zombies to be destroyed and I set to it. None would escape my jaws, claws, or tail. I would see to it they all paid dearly for attacking my mate.

Quinn clung to my neck as I made short work of Burningwood’s army. I smashed and I chomped, I crushed and I clawed, and I spit fire until only a charred pile of body parts remained. So much for Burningwood’s puny little army.

Turning in a circle to make sure all zombies were destroyed, I chuffed, damn proud of myself. I was a dragon! A dark blue and black one if my eyes didn’t deceive me. Still scrawny by dragon standards, but my fierceness more than made up for that.

Quinn patted my neck and I preened under his touch. He muttered calming words, complimenting my ferocity, my strength. I turned my head so I could watch him, my mate. Mate, mate, mate.

“Hey, big guy, I need you to calm down.” Quinn reached a hand toward my snout and I carefully brought it within his reach, my nostrils still steaming from all the zombie roasting. When he stroked my muzzle, my tongue lolled out and my eyes rolled back in my head. He chuckled.

“You’re magnificent.” He continued to stroke me, his eyes full of wonder. “And you’re mine.”

Well, at least we agreed on something. I pushed harder into his hand and he almost toppled off my shoulders. Oops. Didn’t know my own strength yet. Sorry, I thought.

“It’s okay, Twig. I know you didn’t mean it.” He smiled, his eyes bright, but by the way he held his arm, I could tell something was wrong with him. Wait. Did he know what I said?

“Yeah, I hear you,” he said aloud. Then he thought, We have a mental link. I’ve heard it happens between a wizard and their familiar, though I’ve always been told it’s more of an exchange of images. Then again, since you can shift to a more human form, and are obviously more complex than a regular familiar, it makes sense.

He babbled away and I tried to keep up with his thoughts. A familiar? I was a familiar?

Which would make him…

A wizard.

While this should have been patently obvious when he’d cleared the mist with his spell, in this form I was more single-minded and in this case had been focused on destroying every last zombie in Burningwood’s arsenal.

“That’s right, Twig. I’m a wizard. A wizard.” His voice came out choked with awe. I knew just how he felt. I had lots of questions, but when he tried to gesture excitedly with both hands and flinched, I let go of that train of thought and focused on his injury.

“I’m okay,” he said, probably not even needing to read my mind to see where my attention centered.

Did I do this to you?

“Not on purpose. You saved me, Twig. Kept me safe.”

I hurt you. I spun my head away from him and roared to the sky.

“Whoa, you’re going to throw me.” Quinn gripped a spine on my neck and held on. “It’s okay. You were thrashing around when you changed. It’s no big deal. If you hadn’t shifted we’d be dead. Or at least I would be.” He shivered.

I wanted to rage against the pain of hurting my mate.

I’d hurt him.

I’d also saved him and could believe Quinn’s words, but it didn’t dull the ache in my chest from the pain I’d caused.

He patted my neck, trying to console me, his touch soothing.

“Let’s go get Brandsome’s horn and then we can deal with everything else.” His voice held a strange note of trepidation.

Was he scared of Burningwood? I’d protect him. If she even looked at him wrong, I would crunch her up, Alphae rules be damned.

“I know you would,” he soothed. “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. There’s been enough bloodshed for the day.”

That was debatable.

He gave me a playful slap.

“Bloodthirsty dragon.” He said it with affection in his voice and I preened again. “You dropped your knapsack when you shifted. We’ll need it.”

Trotting over to it, I snatched it in my jaws and passed it to him.

Now that Quinn had dispelled the mist, we could both see the path clearly. It wound through the swamp seeming to float on top of the marshy water, so narrow in certain parts that I’d have difficulty staying on it. Then again, I could ford the swamp if need be. I couldn’t imagine a bigger predator in the water than me.

Or perhaps I could fly? I didn’t even consider that. I raised my head and peered over Quinn’s head. My eyes widened.

I had effing fairy wings.

Delicate, and a deep midnight blue with black sparkles. Seriously? I huffed. What kind of dragon had enormous, sparkly fairy wings? If I could have blushed I would have. Quinn turned to see what I stared at.

To give him credit, he didn’t laugh. I felt his amusement, but also concern, through our link.

“It makes you unique,” he offered.

I grunted, a puff of smoke swirling from my nose. I fluttered my wings experimentally. I looked like an oversized butterfly.

“It’s not that bad. You’re still the fiercest dragon I’ve ever seen.”

I sighed. I’m sure he’d seen oh-so-many of us.

He shrugged, the gesture guilty as a harpy in a henhouse. I knew it. I was the only one he’d seen.

“Even so, you’re still plenty fierce. You took out a zombie army. That’s no small feat.”

Yeah, sure, flatter me. Any normal dragon would laugh hysterically if they saw my cute little wings.

“Twig, you’re so much more. Who’d want to be average when you can be extraordinary?” The way he looked at me, like I hung the moons, calmed me a bit.

Okay, so my wings were weird. I flapped them again. The movement was awkward, completely different than the way normal dragon wings functioned. In time, I might get the hang of it. Could I even fly with them? They seemed too delicate to lift my bulk.

Time later to think on all of these other things. We had a sprite to deal with.

Continuing along the trail, I ate up the distance, craning my neck to see above the sparse tree cover. Rumors didn’t prepare me for it. The bleakness of it all; the trees gnarled and misshapen, their bark bleached white. Even the marsh itself seemed unnaturally still, with no sounds of wildlife to be heard as we stepped along the path. Eerie. And sad. What would make a sprite turn to sucking the vitality and life from things?

“The Waters of Ashondrea. She drank from them.”

I startled. Everyone knew the Waters of Ashondrea destroyed one’s soul. The small pool was rumored to be somewhere in Gloomshade Crater. I’d thought it must be a myth.

“No, it’s real. According to Krofom, Burningwood was obsessed with youth. The Waters are supposed to keep one eternally young—did you know that? I didn’t until Krofom told me. Anyway, she willingly gave up her soul for her youth. Or at least, that’s what he said.”

A stab of jealousy sliced me like a knife. Quinn had an in-depth conversation with Krofom. It hadn’t bothered me last night—much—but in this form it really pissed me off.

“Oh, stop. It was just talk. He was the only one who treated me like a person. He must have known I’m a wizard.”

Then Quinn giggled. An honest to goodness giggle. Like a little kid. The excitement and happiness he felt from this revelation rivaled my own thrill at finding out I could shift. I wanted to discuss this with him and how he knew I could do it, except now wasn’t the time. We’d get the horn, get his arm looked at, and then figure things out between us.

“Good idea.”

It wasn’t long before a large manor came into view. As we approached, the ground shifted around us and once again a horde of undead rose from the dirt, that weird green mist descending on us.

Giddy with my new found shape, I enjoyed savagely tearing every last zombie to shreds. I scorched the land in several places, lighting up groups of undead like a pyre. This was so much fun! Quinn didn’t sit it out, either. After a few incantations, the mist evaporated just like last time, leaving the zombies exposed. If I could have chuckled in this form, I would have. I did pull my lips into some semblance of a smile.

Quinn whooped as I stomped all over Burningwood’s guards, egging me on. It felt so good to let my dragon side reign supreme. I hadn’t even realized how much the Alphae restrictions bothered me until now. I mean, the other guilds weren’t required to stick to our inflated moral standards unless they ran afoul of the High Council. Otherwise, they had a lot more options. Besides, it wasn’t like I broke any rules. At the moment. First, they were attacking me, and second, they weren’t living creatures so I didn’t think the ‘do no harm . . . first’ motto applied to them.

Once Burningwood’s defense force lay in a smoldering heap, I roared in triumph. Quinn patted my neck again.

“Good—”

“Who dares enter Rottingvale?” a low, chilling voice said. “Who dares the wrath of Sahara Burningwood?”