Dante’s beast was murderous, and his heart was torn.

His dragon was wild with the impulse to go after Dario, but his soul was afraid that the ferocious serpent might harm the impetuous prince out of instinct…and dominance…out of the feral, instinctual need to establish ultimate supremacy.

Dragons were not rational creatures.

They did not think or love or reason.

They slaughtered and maimed and annihilated.

And Prince Dante Dragona was not a neophyte. He had long since learned how to restrain his beast, within reason. He knew better than to give full vent to his savage nature. And deep in his gentler heart, he knew his son—the child he had raised from an infant to become a strong, fearsome dragon—that child would not betray him in the end. Prince Dario would not go to King Demitri to beg for his biological sire’s love and acceptance. He would not betray Dante’s plans to the king.

He would not.

He could not…

His honor would not abide it.

His heart would not allow it.

But Cassidy Bondeville, on the other hand: the wretched, materialistic, power-hungry wench who had taken full advantage of her position as mistress of Warlochia; the Sklavos Ahavi who had helped herself to the Warlochian treasury more times than Dante could count; the haughty female who had tried to seduce half the castle’s garrison, even knowing such a betrayal of the prince would require Dante to put the soldiers to death; the wretch who had tried to convince Thomas the squire, Dante’s loyal and faithful regent, to lavish favors on the wealthiest witches in Warlochia so that they might grant her favors in return…

If she spoke one more word of derision to her prince, Dante would tear out her throat.

He spun around like a nimble tiger and paced in her direction. “One more venomous word, Miss Bondeville. Speak one more audacious, insolent word to your prince. Threaten Mina or my sons again. I urge you—go ahead.”

Cassidy shrank into the shadow of the throne, cast as the mocking sunlight streamed through an arched rear window, and dropped to her knees before him, her eyes still teeming with hatred. Her opulent gown, strewn with Mercian lace and Lycanian beadwork, spread out and pooled all around her like a lake of pale green silk, drawing sharp, sardonic contrast to her lowly position in the Realm. To her nonexistent position in Dante’s heart. “Forgive me, my prince.” She virtually spat the words, spittle flying from her painted-red lips to dot the regal gown.

Dante snarled. “How much did you hear?”

Cassidy smirked. “I heard it all…my prince.”

Dante reined in his beast, lest he drain her until she was nothing but a frozen block of ice. “And what do you intend to do?” He narrowed his gaze into two tiny slits. “Remember, I can read your mind, so do not try to deceive me.”

She raised her chin and drew back her shoulders. “I haven’t decided yet. Perhaps I will go to King Demitri myself; perhaps I will visit your beloved Mina. Perhaps I will invite my nephews from Castle Umbras for tea. A very special tea. You do realize I have many witches at my beck and call.” She placed her forefinger on her rosy bottom lip. “Hmm. What to do? What to do?”

Dante felt the base of his spine stiffen, and a long, spiked tail shot out of the lower vertebrae. He hurled it across the distance between them, wrapped it around Cassidy’s waist, and hefted her ten feet off the floor. Then he flung her across the throne room and pounced, landing atop her on all fours, his fangs gnashing against his lower teeth.

He was just about to strike her jugular when she slapped him, the full force of her open hand stunning his taut left cheek. “Go ahead!” she shouted. “Kill me! Drain me! Rip out my throat!” Her eyes flooded with angry tears, and she groaned from the pain of being hurled across the room. “Do you really think I care if I die?”

Dante’s beast paused, panting for breath.

He angled his head to the side and studied her carefully, the infinitesimal part of him that was still sentient staying the dragon’s wrath.

“Look at me,” Cassidy choked on a sob. “Look at my face, my hair, and my body. I am forty-nine summers old, and every season of my life now shows.” Her bottom lip began to tremble. “While Tatiana remains youthful and vibrant, while Mina is as fair as a queen, I grow into an old, useless hag.” She shoved at his chest, and the dragon allowed the thrust, retreating a mere couple of inches. “I know that you despise me, my prince. I know that you always have. Do you think it never occurred to me that there was a reason for all your frequent trips to Castle Umbras, all the nights and weekends you stayed away? Do you think I never noticed how you looked at Mina, or wondered why I—a Sklavos Ahavi, born to give birth to dragon sons—could never conceive a child after Dario?”

Dante withdrew from her chest, and the female sat up, swiping her tears with her forearm. “By all the gods, did I not try to please you? Tell me, Prince Dante, when did I directly defy you? When did I refuse to feed your dragon? When did I do anything but lavish love, attention, and kindness on our son…on Dario?” She waved a dismissive hand through the air. “Yes, he was sired by someone else—a mistake I came to regret a thousand times over—but I was lonely, I was desperate, and I was so very jealous of Mina. And as long as I am confessing my sins, then I may as well admit: I have also spent your money. I have lavished myself with the gifts you didn’t give me, and I have even sought comfort in other men’s arms, although all denied me out of fealty to you.”

She shook her head, looking lost and forlorn. “Prince Dante, I have lived in this castle for thirty-one years as nothing more than a cast-aside pet. I wasn’t even good enough to be your slave; you hardly used me as your whore. Can you even conceive of my loneliness? And now my worthlessness and my shame shall be revealed to all the Realm. Do you really think I care if I die? What have I ever had to live for?”

Prince Dante rocked back on his heels and squatted before her, his fangs, his claws, and his tail receding. He looked deep into her eyes, and for the first time since he’d known her, they were completely absent of guile. Yes, she was still superficial, worried about her reputation, thinking of her life—and her role within the Realm—in the context of her own personal suffering, when they had all suffered greatly throughout the years. They were all servants of Dragons Realm, beholden to someone other than themselves, beholden to a greater purpose.

Yet and still, her pain was apparent.

It was raw, it was vulnerable, and it was real.

“Cassidy…” He breathed her name without anger; then he reached out to stroke the underside of her jaw. “Did it never occur to you that I knew of each and every treachery? That I watched you steal from the castle treasury, that I watched you try to cater to the district’s witches, and that I knew you tried to seduce my men? Did it never occur to you that I turned a blind eye on all of it for a reason?” He withdrew his hand and sighed. “My Ahavi, the king was ignorant and cruel when he gave you to me—he knew it would cause us both great suffering. Perhaps that is why he lay with you that once, because he knew I would never truly want you, even as he pretended that all was as it should be with his sons and their appointments.”

Dante stared at her pale green gown, made note of her trembling hands, and appraised the deep lines of age that framed her eyes and crisscrossed her forehead. “My Ahavi, Prince Dario should have been taught by a dozen different governesses in his youth before he began his training as a ruler, as a dragon, but you were allowed to teach him, instead. You sat with him for over half his lessons. You sit with him weekly, still, and he allows it. I allow it.” He swept his hand through his hair and released a weary, ragged sigh. “You are a good mother to our son—you always were. And that was the role I gave you. It was not a role of little significance.”

Cassidy gulped, and she studied Dante’s seeking gaze in earnest. Perhaps it was the first time she had been allowed to do so. And then her shoulders slumped in defeat. “Tell me something, my prince.” She quickly held up one hand in apology. “I know it is not my place to question you—believe me, I have learned that lesson well—but allow me this one indulgence.”

Dante lowered his lids and slowly nodded.

Her nose twitching, her eyes cast to the side, Cassidy spoke in a weak and tremulous voice. “You say you never truly wanted me…but those rare nights, those hours within your chambers when you called me to your bed and you pretended to couple with me…” Her voice betrayed her shame. “When you used your magic to deceive me…was there never a single moment, a single heartbeat, a single desire…did you never feel anything at all beyond duty? Beyond deception?” A hint of desperate hope crossed her features. “When I awoke in the mornings, and your arms were around me…”

Prince Dante glanced away, and Cassidy closed her eyes.

“I see.” As if a dam of anguish had suddenly broken, her shoulders shook, and she sobbed. “Tell me why. Why couldn’t you truly care for me, just a little?” She fisted the silk of her gown. “I never expected you to love me, nor is that the role of a Sklavos Ahavi, but what was it about me that so repulsed you? Why couldn’t you want me, even once?”

Dante reached for her chin. “Look at me, Ahavi.”

She reluctantly opened her eyes.

“My heart was Mina’s from the moment I first saw her, though I didn’t understand it then, and my duty was solely—and always—to the Realm. You and I were forged from different steel, but we had a prince to raise, and I believe we did that well. Cassidy, I wish, for your sake, that life had been different, but this doesn’t have to be the end. You already know I am going to remove your memories of this day, of this conversation, and replace them with something else. You will believe all that you believed a day ago. But before I do so, I want you to know that I am not going to slay you, not unless you force my hand. And as plans unfold—as you begin to relearn all you are about to forget—I hope this warning will remain in your soul: Should you ever try to harm Mina, or any of the children she and I had together, I will put you in your grave.”

The dark, silken promise lingered in the air, hovering like an earth-bound wraith in a shallow tomb, before he modulated his voice, forcing a more reasoned tone. “However, it is my prayer that when the time comes, you will make a wiser choice. Should the Lord of Fire make me king of the Realm, you will return to the commonlands where you were born. You will be given a home with land, and every comfort you have become accustomed to. I will take care of you until the day you die, and none will dare spurn you. Whether Dario finds it in his heart to forgive me or not, you will always be his mother. I will not deny you that role.” He glanced out one of the arched stone windows, noticing that the sun had reached its zenith in the sky. “Is there anything else you would like to ask before I remove your awareness?”

Cassidy blinked several times, staring intently at Dante’s features. Her gaze swept over the hard planes and angles of his cheeks, his chin, and his nose, and then they settled on the thick sculpted center of his lips. She reached out with a tentative hand and fingered a lock of his midnight-black hair, something he would never have allowed her to do in the past, and she slowly inhaled his scent. “Would you…” Her voice trailed off on a whisper. “Never mind.”

But Dante heard her thoughts: Would you kiss me just this once…like you mean it?

He brushed his thumb over her lower lip and cupped her jaw in his hands. “Thank you for loving Dario,” he said softly. And then he bent to her mouth and kissed her with compassion, removing her memories before he pulled away.