“I ought to tell you something before I try this.” I looked up, all around, judging the height of the ceiling and width of the room. If the antidote worked on the first try—which I doubted, but stranger things had happened—I didn’t want my head shooting up through the tiles and into the ductwork.

Carissa checked the shackles, tested the locks. “What’s that?” she asked, distracted. Only partly listening.

“We’ve never talked about what I shift into when the change comes over me.”

That stopped her. She froze, small hands around my much larger wrists. I didn’t mind the contact.

“That’s right. We haven’t.”

“Would you like to know, so you aren’t terribly surprised if it should happen in front of you?” And bless her, she thought it over. That analytical mind.

“I had assumed you were a wolf, or tiger. Or a bear, even.” Her eyes searched my face for a hint of the truth. “Is that it?”

“No.”

“None of those things?”

“None of those things.”

She chewed the inside of her mouth, thinking it over. “A lion.”

“No.”

“A giraffe.”

I threw my head back as my laughter filled the large space. “What makes you think of that?”

“I noticed the way you’ve been looking around, like you were judging the ceiling’s height.”

“Fair enough. But no. And not an elephant,” I added when she opened her mouth.

It snapped shut again.

“I’m out of ideas, then.”

“Perhaps it’s for the best.” I didn’t want to frighten her. No one knew of us, saving Mary and the girls back at the cave—not just of us, my family, but of dragons on the whole. We were thought to have disappeared from the face of the earth. Some doubted we’d ever existed at all.

We hadn’t died out. We’d only gone into hiding.

“You’re not going to tell me?” she asked, and I could’ve sworn I saw the hint of a pout.

Was she flirting? No, it couldn’t be. Whatever unspoken thing had come between us still sat there, as unyielding as ever. But a ghost of a smile danced around the corners of her mouth.

“It’ll be better as a surprise,” I decided with a lighthearted wink.

Better to keep things light, when the reality was much darker. I still wasn’t sure whether or not I trusted her. If she weren’t always giving me furtive looks from the corner of her eye. If she didn’t look away the moment our eyes met. If she’d answer questions with more than one or two words.

If she didn’t look as though she were about to shatter like a piece of fine crystal at the slightest touch.

What was it about her that nagged me so? It wasn’t as though she’d threatened me or given me a reason to doubt her sincerity. She was never anything but courteous, saving that one dust-up we had when I made the mistake of asking if she felt well.

I had kept my questions to myself after that, which was against my nature. If any member of my family had acted so unpredictably, I’d have given them hell for it and wouldn’t stop nagging until I got an answer which satisfied me.

So what was it about her that tied my tongue? I wondered as I watched her inject a syringe filled with what she said was an antidote. She could kill me at any moment, or render serious harm. The thought did little more than flit around the corners of my mind before it was gone. I couldn’t believe she was capable of such a thing. I wouldn’t believe it.

“There. A few minutes for the serum to make its way through your system, and we’ll get started.” There was color in her cheeks for the first time in a week.

“You’re excited by this, aren’t you?”

She shrugged with a rueful smile. “This is as close as I ever come to real excitement in my work, I guess. Finding out if I was on the right track all along. Knowing that I was right—when things actually work out, of course. It’s sort of like that scene in Frankenstein. You know what I mean. When the monster first comes to life.”

“Of course. It’s alive, it’s alive.”

“Right,” she smiled. “I can see how old Frankenstein got so caught up in his work and lost his mind a little. When you work, and you work, and there’s a single goal on the horizon, you tend to shut out everything else. It’s all-consuming. You might even lose your grip on what’s happening in your life, or the world at large. Your work is all that matters. You have to prove to yourself that you’re smart enough or capable enough to reach your goals.”

“What are your goals?”

“My goals?” Her eyes took an unfocused quality as she stared off into space, just above my head.

She was miles away from me by now, I knew. I wished I knew where she went—it seemed like she needed help. She wasn’t happy, there, at any rate. Her eyes went watery for a moment, until she blinked hard.

When she opened them again, she looked more herself. “My goals include watching you shift into whatever it is you shift into. I want to watch you shift with those shackles on.”

The dragon wasn’t satisfied. He claimed she was lying. Wanted me to tell her so. Would that I could. The dragon didn’t understand nuance, subtlety. Wanting to be sure not to hurt somebody who was on my side.

If she walked out and refused to come back, we’d be at square one—and there would be no guarantee of her keeping her mouth shut about us, either. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. An old adage, and a true one. We’d live in concern over her for the rest of our days.

I let it pass. She would never open up to me. Perhaps it was better she didn’t—once we were apart, I wouldn’t have to think about her anymore. Wouldn’t ask myself questions. Was she well, was she feeling like her old self again, was she happy. Did her troubles ever end, or had they only gotten worse. The less I knew about those troubles, the easier it would be to forget about her.

Now I was the one who was lying; the dragon grumbled inside my head.

I had never met a woman who worked her way into my soul the way Carissa had without so much as lifting a finger—but I knew my dragon would make life hell for me. He would remind me of the way she smelled, the way her pulse had quickened when she saw me shirtless and sweating. The way she’d grown flustered and averted her eyes. He knew she wanted me, and I knew we both wanted her. And she was going to slip through my fingers like sand, no matter how I tried to close them against her escape.

She cleared her throat, and the wall dropped between us again. “All right. I think we’ve given you enough time. Let’s see what you can do.”

It occurred to me that I should’ve taken off my clothes before attempting a shift. The image of how she would react to seeing me in front of her, completely naked, brought up a grin I tried hard to disguise.

“You’re ready?” I asked.

“Ready for anything.” Which was why she clasped her hands together and chewed her bottom lip until I was sure her teeth would break the skin.

She thought she could handle whatever she found because she was vaguely acquainted with a shifter in Florida. It was quaint.

I closed my eyes and allowed the shift to come over me. Yet instead of the usual feeling of relief, as the caged beast inside me released itself and stretched its legs—and wings—after a long imprisonment, there was resistance. Like trying to break out of a jar or bottle with thick glass, pushing and straining and struggling against it so I could breathe again, fly again, be again.

The dragon roared, and a cry of frustration escaped my lips and filled the room.

It was too much. I gave up, shoulders falling, beads of sweat lining my brow. “No go.” When my eyes opened, I found her staring raptly at me.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know. Nothing to be sorry about.”

“It’s a start. Only a start. You know I’ll keep working on this.”

“I know you will. You’re Dr. Frankenstein, right? A little setback isn’t enough to discourage you.” I held out my wrists, the heavy shackles all the heavier because of what they represented.

She came to me with the key held out in one hand and a sad smile on her beautiful face.

“Wow. Dr. Frankenstein. I guess I’ve been called worse.”

We both chuckled as she unlocked the iron cuffs, then set them aside.

I didn’t think before I did it. If I had, I wouldn’t have moved. It might have been the dragon guiding me, still at the forefront of my consciousness, a little closer to the surface than normal. I reached for her, closing my hand around her wrist like the shackles had just been around mine.

She flinched, but only for an instant. Only out of surprise. She didn’t try to pull away.

I didn’t know what to say, or even if there was anything worth saying in that moment. It was only the two of us in the entire world. No, more like three of us. The dragon noted her pulse pounding away, the softness of her skin, the warmth of her.

And he would remind me time and again until my head ached with the memory. And there were so many years left in my life. Years for me to regret…

“What is it, Cash?” She wouldn’t look up. Her eyes were trained on the shackles, sitting on one of the small work tables. She still didn’t try to get away.

“If there’s anything I can do for you—anything, ever—I wish you would tell me. I know there has to be a reason why you wouldn’t share with me everything that’s happening. You don’t know me, I’m not part of your life. I understand that. But you have to understand that I can’t dismiss the pain I see you going through.”

“There’s no pain. I wish you would stop this.”

“If you wanted me to stop, you would pull your arm away.”

“It would be a waste of time to fight you off. You’re much bigger than I am.”

“A convenient excuse.”

“It’s the truth. Why would I waste my time trying to fight you?”

“Why won’t you look at me?”

She didn’t have a quick answer to that. And she couldn’t manage to raise her eyes to meet mine.

A feeling of dread started growing, like a seed suddenly bursting open and taking root.

“Who are you working for?”

She looked at me then. Her eyes were wide as her head snapped up. “What?” she hissed.

“You heard me. Who are you working for?”

She pulled her wrist from my grip—I barely noticed.

Slashes of red colored her cheeks. Her eyes sparkled for the first time in days, but this time it was with fury. “How dare you? You know who I’m doing this for.”

“Who’s that?”

“You,” she spat, using her forefinger to poke my chest. “Mary hired me to do this for you. And I resent you implying that there’s anything else in this for me.”

“I wasn’t implying.”

“What was it, then?”

“Accusing,” I snarled. “You’re guilty. Something’s making you feel this way. You won’t look at me.”

“Ha!” She glared up at me with her hands on her hips. “You think you’re the center of the universe, do you? Just because you’ve got muscles and cut-glass jaw, I’m supposed to stare and drool at you.”

I snorted. “Not what I was trying to say, but thanks for the compliment. You gave yourself away.”

“Oh, stuff it up your ass,” she muttered, turning away, going to her laptop. “I have work to do.”

“There’s something you’re not telling me, and it has to do with me. Stop denying it.”

“Yeah, there’s something I haven’t told you: you’re much more trouble than you’re worth, Cash.”

I couldn’t see her behind the monitor, but there was no missing the tremble in her voice.