It is her.

She is the one.

Things were so much simpler for my dragon.

When I thought like my dragon, everything was black and white. Good and bad. There were no shades of gray, no nuances, no weighing of the facts. Yes or no. Right or wrong. The end.

Which was what made it so simple for him when he announced that the girl on my back was my fated mate. The one we had been waiting for.

My human brain cried out in protest.

No way. After a thousand years on this side of the world? My fated mate is back in the father country, back where the clan once lived. How could she possibly be here?

The dragon roared in response. This is her. She is the one.

He was never one to mince words. He knew what was, and that was that. There was no reasoning with him, no making him understand that what he claimed was impossible.

All of us, my family and I, had come to an unspoken understanding many years earlier, when it was clear we would live our lives away from the rest of the world.

When we realized that bringing anyone else into the caves would mean bringing them close to that treasure—a treasure that we’d never even seen—we had been tasked with protecting.

No one could be brought to the caves. It simply couldn’t be done. The risk was far too great. It would mean allowing an outsider to know our secrets and possibly share those secrets with other outsiders.

It could mean failing our mission—and none of us took that sort of thing lightly. We were given a duty, and we were going to see it through.

It was like a common language for all of us when we understood nothing else about each other, when our personalities clashed as they were likely to do after a millennium of living together. When all else failed, we understood our duty.

Things had gone well, for the most part.

Until this very day.

No. Things will still go well.

It wasn’t easy to think as my human self while I was in my dragon form. His consciousness threatened to overtake mine and very easily could if I allowed myself to let go. Sometimes I did, just for the hell of it. When thinking as a human was too much for me to bear. It came in handy whenever it was my turn to guard the cave for a day.

There was no sense in contemplating life as a human while lumbering around in front of the cave’s mouth.

I fought my dragon as I climbed up the mountainside, close to home by now.

She was still on my back and, except for a few minutes of wakefulness, had missed almost the entire flight. That was for the better. She might have fallen off in a panic otherwise.

I only heard one or two screams. Her weight was still firm against my back, heavy in unconsciousness.

What to do with her? I couldn’t take her home, that was a fact.

But I couldn’t leave her lying on the mountain, either. She had a head injury, and I hadn’t had the chance to see what the fall from the cliff did to her.

I remembered her hitting the boulder just after I lost my grip. She might die from exposure even if her wounds didn’t kill her.

The nearest hospital was miles away, and the only road down the mountain was washed out. How was I supposed to explain getting her to the hospital?

How could I walk up to the emergency room as a human, naked, holding her draped over my arms? I’d earn myself a trip to the psych ward while I was at it.

Take her. Make her ours.

The dragon wouldn’t let up.

I tried to ignore its incessant voice, not to mention the cravings stirring in my loins.

As the dragon, it was harder to ignore what she was doing to me.

I could smell her, could feel her warmth against my skin. She was so small and helpless, and I could take her so easily. It could be over in an instant, and she would be mine forever, the way it was meant to be…

I shook my head, snorting hard in frustration. There were much more important things to consider, and the calling of my darker needs wasn’t helping.

As soon as it was safe, and I knew the worst of the climb up the mountain was over, I came to a stop and arched my back to allow the girl’s body a safe slide to the ground.

She landed in a heap. I turned to look at her, my sharp dragon eyes taking in every inch of her skin.

My desire rose again, stronger than it had been in centuries. She wore shorts in spite of the chill in the air, and her lean, smooth legs brought saliva to my mouth.

There was a small waist and full, firm breasts under the hoodie. I could make out their shape thanks to the way the wet fabric clung to her.

I could also make out the blood which soaked one shoulder of that hoodie. That splash of red was enough to wake me from the semi-trance the sight and smell of her body put me under.

She needs help.

I shifted back to human, and the dragon roared in disapproval, but he’d have to deal with it. As a human, I could kneel by her side and check her over a bit more carefully.

Her head had stopped bleeding, but her shoulder hadn’t. I peeled back the sticky cotton to find the wound still oozing. She must have done it when she hit the boulder—I didn’t remember it looking that way when she was in the car. I wondered if there was a break. What if it became infected?

I looked around, at a loss. Like there was anything around me that would provide answers. What was I supposed to do with her? She needed help, but I couldn’t get her anywhere. If I let her go, she would tell people about the dragon who carried her to safety. Then again, who would believe that? But how else could her rescue be explained?

Her car was on the forest floor by now, washed off the road. There was no other way for her to get down the mountain. The police would want to know. Word might get out on the news, on the internet.

The girl who claimed a dragon saved her from certain death.

What would happen then? It didn’t take a genius to follow the scenario to its natural conclusion. Anyone aware of the that which we were guarding would know there were dragons present in the Appalachian Mountains. They’d find out the general location and start their hunt. We’d be exposed, in danger. It would risk our mission. We had worked hard and made countless sacrifices, and she could undo all of it.

But she’s ours. She’s meant for us. The dragon wouldn’t stop insisting on being heard.

She’s too big a risk. I have to let her go, I thought.

A roar of outrage filled my head. She is our mate! You will not allow her to die!

“What am I supposed to do?” I shouted out loud, my voice echoing off the mountainside and throughout the valley below.

I heard myself asking the same question again and again, until the echoes overlapped and eventually faded into silence.

I looked down at her again, torn between self-preservation and pity. And the constant nagging from the dragon, though I did what I could to keep him to a dull roar. He wasn’t helping.

I couldn’t leave her. It was as simple as that. I’d never forgive myself. I’d always know she was there, that her beauty was rotting under the sun and rain and snow, that the animals would get to her before long and tear her flesh to pieces.

With that image in my head, I lifted her as gently as I could and made the decision to create a very big problem for myself.

We hadn’t used the cells for almost as long as I could remember, not since the very early days when we faced discovery by a group of hunters who’d stumbled upon us and tried to attack.

It had been no contest, but those who had survived the fight had spent the rest of their short, miserable lives locked up inside a separate series of tunnels connected to the rest of our underground compound but existing on the other side of the mountain. The tunnels were divided into six separate cells, each lined with iron bars. I hadn’t even visited them in more than a hundred years, but used to sometimes escape there for the sake of being alone and hearing myself think.

Television, video games, internet and the like had made it easier to entertain ourselves and stay out of each other’s hair when needed, but that wasn’t the case only a century earlier.

There was an entrance on the opposite side of the mountain from the cave mouth where Cash still stood sentry, and I wasted no time getting there. The sooner I had her inside, away from the risk of discovery, the better.

And that meant keeping her from the rest of the family, too.

I wasn’t sure how that would be possible, seeing as how we were so entwined in each other’s lives, but there had to be a way. They would never understand why she had to be here. They would never forgive me for putting us in danger.

Tell them she’s ours, the dragon demanded.

Ignorant bastard, single-minded as always. Black and white. Right and wrong. She was ours, and that was all there was to be considered. No gray areas, no concern for the other dragons I called my brothers and cousins. They didn’t matter. It was all so easy for him.

And what if I did tell them? Like it would matter in the face of the bigger picture. Putting us all in jeopardy. Ten centuries with them had stripped away all illusions. They would care about survival and duty. We had no duty to this girl.

The tunnel was dark, windowless of course, without the lighting or air filtration systems we used in our underground maze. She wouldn’t suffocate, but the darkness would become a problem. I would have to bring candles in for her, and bedding which would prove more comfortable than a pile of rags on the floor. It would have to do for the time being. I lowered her carefully, cautiously, still fearing internal injuries.

What was I thinking? Caring about her comfort, hoping I hadn’t worsened any invisible bleeding she might be suffering. Digging myself deeper and deeper.

There was no time to think about it. I had to get back to my suite, shower, and dress and make a point of covering up for my absence.

The truck would still be sitting on the road, if it hadn’t succumbed to the mudslide, so I had an excuse for coming back empty-handed.

I ran barefoot down the long, dark tunnel which would eventually lead to a wooden door that sealed the cells off from our home.

With any luck, the other side would be empty, and I’d be able to get to my room without notice. If any of the others saw me, they’d want to know why I hadn’t used our normal entrance—and, of course, I should have.

I should’ve flown around to the mouth of the cave and told Cash about the mudslide as though there were no further complications. I was already slipping up, not thinking clearly.

I would have to get my story straight if there was any hope of getting away with keeping my prisoner a secret.