Damien stood in the small office of the hotel manager, watching the shooting that had occurred the previous night. The office was cramped with Jason standing behind the manager’s desk as the manager pulled up the security footage.

The picture the unknown caller had texted him had shown Charlotte being dragged to the ground with glass everywhere, but it hadn’t been clear what had happened. When they’d found the hotel where her bags had been left behind, they’d seen the shattered windows of the lobby, still in the process of being replaced.

“This is all we have on the cameras,” the manager said. His thick accent was punctuated with a nervous glance between the brothers. He tapped a few buttons on the keyboard of his computer, and the video began to play again.

Charlotte and Rurik Barinov stood near the valet booth when the glass suddenly shattered behind them. Chaos descended on the scene. The dragon shifter flinched as he was hit, but Damien couldn’t tell how many times or where he was wounded. Rurik took Charlotte down to the ground, covering her body with his. A few seconds later, Rurik stood up and lifted Charlotte up with him.

Damien leaned in close, placing a hand on the desk as he peered intensely at the security footage on the monitor. Charlotte seemed to be okay. It was not what he’d expected. “Do you have footage of them in the lobby?”

“No, I’m sorry.” The manager’s face was pale, but that wasn’t a surprise. Damien and his team had walked into his office like they owned the place. At the first sign of objection, Damien had called his contact in the Russian government and handed the phone to the manager. After that, the manager had agreed to anything Damien requested.

“What room is she staying in?”

The manager exhaled with relief. “That I do know. You will need keys, yes?”

“Yes.” He watched the manager collect a couple of blank keys and program them.

“These should work.”

“Thank you.” Damien pocketed the keys and wrote down his cell number. “If you see that man from the video, call me immediately.”

“Of course.”

The team took the elevator up to Charlotte’s floor. Damien motioned for everyone to draw their weapons and take ready positions outside her door. There was a chance Rurik and Charlotte were still inside. A few silent hand gestures let everyone know what was expected of them.

Damien inserted the room key. The green light flashed on the reader, and he flung the door open, pistol raised. The room was dark, the lights off, and no sounds came from within. Charlotte’s suitcase stood on a wooden luggage rack, lid open. The rest of the team flowed in behind him and fanned out, each checking the room and bathroom.

“All clear.”

“Clear.”

“Clear here.”

Charlotte was nowhere to be found.

“Search everything,” Damien ordered. For the next ten minutes, he and his team scoured the hotel room.

“Damien. Over here.” Nicholas was kneeling by the mini-fridge, pointing at a glass vial filled with green liquid inside.

“Meg, take a look at this,” Damien said.

Meg took the vial from Nicholas, holding it up to the light. “That’s the serum. Charlotte showed it to me when she made her big breakthrough.”

Damien stared at the bright liquid. The spare vials they’d taken from Charlotte’s lab didn’t have the same tint to them but rather looked blue-green, which made him wonder if there was a reason she’d left those versions behind.

So this was the magical dragon repressor his sister had reverse-engineered. It was a game changer to be sure, but Meg was right—if this fell into the wrong hands, it could lead to genocide. He didn’t want his name connected to such an event. The Brotherhood had enough blood on its hands, and he was committed to finding a better way. Nevertheless, he slipped the vial into a pocket in his coat, just in case.

“Listen up,” he said, addressing his team. “I want you to start prepping in the rooms on either side. Jason, get the manager to give us those rooms. Relocate anyone in them. Nicholas, review the security footage again, look for anything we might have missed, then put some wards around us. I want silencing spells, anti-fire spells, anything you can think of in case Barinov decides to put up a fight. Triple redundancies. Remember, this one’s a battle dragon.”

“I’ll set up a post outside the hotel,” Tamara said. “Meg might be recognized. Red hair sticks out here in Moscow.”

Meg sighed. “And me without my wig collection.”

Kathryn held her hands out, magic sparking from her palms. “I’ll get the spells started.” She began to twine her fingers and whisper ancient incantations. Shimmering blue waves passed through the room, tinting her skin and her brown eyes, so much like her older brother, Nicholas.

“Okay, people, let’s do this.” Damien watched his team get to work. He stared at Charlotte’s open suitcase and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling he had about this situation. Flashes of the video kept replaying in his mind. There was something about the way Charlotte and Barinov had fallen, the guarded posture the dragon had while on the floor, and the way he’d pushed her through the lobby, shielding her—shielding her. Something about all this didn’t ring true.

But the danger was there, even if the dragon had protected her, and Damien had to prepare for the worst.

I know I promised to slay your dragons, baby sis, but this battle could set the world on fire.

* * *

Charlotte stood in the shadow of the beautiful imperial palace of Catherine the Great, her mind torn between the baroque architectural detail of the building and the legendary history of its onetime owner. Catherine had been an ambitious German lady who married into a Russian royal family that had been less effectual than its predecessors, and she soon became a better ruler than her own husband, much to the annoyance of most of her male contemporaries. History had not been kind to Catherine, even if it had allowed the beauty of her home to continue to flourish through the centuries.

There was a healthy amount of snow on the ground, despite the weather reports from the previous day, and still more snow danced about the robin’s-egg-blue palace. Charlotte felt as though she stood in the middle of a vast snow globe that had just been shaken. Rurik stood quietly beside her, his emerald eyes tinged with melancholy. Was he thinking of his former lover? Or simply burdened by memories of the past?

“It’s so strange coming back here,” he said. “A part of my life, part of everything I once knew is crystalized here like a world trapped in a snow globe, yet it’s closed off from me forever.”

Charlotte tucked her arm in his and squeezed his arm.

“We don’t have to go inside.”

Rurik shook his head. “No, I want to. It’s just that my brothers and I have lived so long, dozens of lifetimes, yet we rarely talk about the past. It holds too much pain for us. I’m just not used to it.”

“My brothers are the same way. They never talk about our parents. The Brotherhood has taken so much from us, especially Damien. First our parents, then the woman he loved.” She paused, drawing a slow breath. “I understand why he doesn’t want me involved in his world, but shutting me out hurts just as much. He doesn’t even let me talk about them. It’s like I’m stuck in a half-life with my own family.” Sometimes she wanted to talk about her parents, because not talking about them only made their memories fade faster. She wasn’t even sure she remembered their voices sometimes.

They started walking toward the palace, the snow crunching softly beneath their boots. “How did your parents die?” Rurik asked.

“A vampire. My father was the head of the Brotherhood, trying to undo his father’s unforgiving policies, and my mother was a tracker. They were paired together, and worrying about each other is what got them killed. At least, that’s what I heard. It’s against policy now for teammates to become romantically involved.” She knew little of the details. Damien wouldn’t let her see the files or the crime scene photos. They wanted to spare her that pain, and she was okay with that.

“I’m sorry,” Rurik murmured. “I lost my parents as well, but it was my father’s fault. He was obsessed with hunting down the last of the thunderbirds.”

Charlotte frowned. She knew the name but hadn’t read up on them. The Brotherhood had them listed as extinct, so she’d seen no need to learn about them. “Are they also shifters?”

“Yes. They change into large golden birds, similar to phoenixes. One flap of their wings and they can kill a dragon with a sonic boom.”

“And your father killed the last of them?”

“Not exactly. Grigori’s mate, Madelyn, is a thunderbird. Our father killed her parents, but he died during the battle. Before she passed from grief, our mother took the baby and convinced a couple to adopt her.”

“How did she end up marrying Grigori?”

“It is a long story,” Rurik said. “With the most unlikely of coincidences. You might argue that fate brought them together. For Grigori to mate her, our natural enemy, it is…” He trailed off, and Charlotte suddenly smiled.

“He’s like us—mated to someone who’s supposed to be his enemy. Maybe this will work out okay after all.” For the first time in a few hours Charlotte was filled with hope, but Rurik’s dark chuckle snuffed out that small flame.

“Madelyn is the last of her kind. You have a secret international organization, trained to hunt my kind.”

Her smile faded. He was right. This was different. How would her brothers react when they learned she’d mated a dragon? Would they feel betrayed? Would she be disowned? Would Rurik face the same fate from his family?

“Enough of this. Let me show you the palace.” Rurik helped her up the front steps and knocked on the doors. A man in a security uniform opened the door and stared at them. He spoke in Russian, clearly telling them to leave, but Rurik looked deep into the man’s eyes and replied in Russian. The guard stepped back, allowing them to enter. Charlotte didn’t miss the vacant expression on his face.

“What did he say?” Charlotte whispered as they came into the hall.

“It’s closed to visitors. I convinced him we can have a quick tour.”

“You mesmerized him,” Charlotte said.

Rurik’s only answer was a sly grin. “A private tour is better than sharing it with tourists, trust me.”

They walked down the main hall, and Charlotte marveled at the way the light reflected off the white walls and gilded lintel panels. It was the closest thing she could imagine on earth to what heaven must be like.

“An Italian sculptor, Count Rastrelli, created all this. He used more than a hundred kilograms of pure gold on the interior. Stand here.” Rurik guided her in front of one of the doorways.

Charlotte gasped as she let him position her just right. At least seven more doorways extended down the hall ahead of her, the gilded paneling around the frames making the lengthy hall look like it went on forever.

“It’s like holding two mirrors against each other.”

Rurik led Charlotte through a number of ornate rooms, until they came into a massive one with beautiful pale wood floors and tall windows on either side. Between the windows were panels of mirrors with gilded edges and hundreds of candles in front of each.

“What is this room?”

“The Great Hall.” Rurik took her by the hand and spun her around. “We used to dance for hours here.” He twirled, and she danced back into his arms, where he held her close.

“The Russian court in those days was magnificent—the candles, the grounds, the click of heeled shoes on the floors, and the flutter of silk fans. It was…” Rurik seemed to struggle for words. “Quite a memorable time for me.”

“How old are you?” she suddenly asked, almost afraid of the answer. She hadn’t wanted to think about their age difference, but this had brought it all home to her, and she had to know.

“I’m over thirteen hundred years old.”

Charlotte gasped. “Thirteen hundred?”

Rurik’s smile wilted. “What’s the matter? You’re pale.”

“It’s… I just… I hadn’t thought about your age. What happens when I get old and you don’t—”

He cupped her face and silenced her with a kiss. “Don’t think about that. We have time yet to worry.” He kissed her again, harder, and a rush of images filled her head. Rurik’s memories…

Colorful silk gowns swirled in candlelight, and the empress sat on her throne with a secretive smile on her lips. Dancing and laughter and joy were all around her. Time seemed to blur, and she felt a growing gloom, a press of evil drawing closer and closer. Men rushed through moonlit halls. She saw them through Rurik’s eyes. He wore a leather bomber jacket and was calling for men to help him. Then there was a room full of amber panels and mirrors…

“They must not take the amber!” Rurik shouted to his men. Charlotte, in his memories, could understand the Russian being spoken. A mighty roar shook the palace as bombs exploded in the distance, making the walls creak and groan.

“The beast is coming!” a man shouted, and then he fled the room. Others followed him. Rurik stood alone at the entrance to the room as Dimitri Drakor came into view. His hands held balls of flame, and his eyes were bright yellow.

“Stand back, Barinov. This does not concern you.”

Rurik snarled, his hands creating his own fire. He could let his dragon loose, but it would put the priceless amber room and the rest of the palace at risk. Drakor dove at him, snarling violently, and the flames consumed the air around them…

The vision of the bloody battle slowly faded.

Rurik panted against Charlotte’s lips, his forehead touching hers. Her heart still pounded from experiencing his memories and the pain and terror of those final horrifying moments when the two dragons had lunged at each other.

“What was that place?” she asked in a shaky whisper.

He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks, and she reached up to stroke his scar.

“That was the Amber Room. It was once considered the eighth wonder of the world. During the Second World War, I fought with the Soviet Air Forces. I didn’t agree with their politics, but the German Luftwaffe was annihilating my countrymen, so I chose to fight. We had so few experienced flyers, and I knew the humans needed my help, but I couldn’t help as a dragon. Being a pilot was the next best thing. Germans were bombing the palace and the cities, and I had made a promise to Empress Elizabeth when the Amber Room was installed that I would always protect it. I failed in that promise when the Germans bombed Russia.”

Rurik’s green eyes darkened. Charlotte hugged him close. “What happened?”

“Dimitri Drakor happened. He betrayed the czars in 1918, then betrayed his own country in the Second World War. He came into the palace as the Nazis broke into the Amber Room to loot it. I couldn’t shift. If I had, it would have wrecked the palace and its priceless treasures. Drakor didn’t have the same concerns, so he transformed and clawed my face. He wounded me in other places as well, but those wounds healed better than my face.” He touched the scar, gaze dropping to the floor. “Does it bother you? That I’m…marked?” The vulnerability in his voice surprised her. The man who had lived so many lifetimes and fought in countless wars was afraid she would find his scar offensive?

She stood on tiptoes and kissed the base of his scar, then his forehead.

“It is a badge of courage, the very outward mark of the kind of man you are. A good man. I love…the scar.” Rurik pressed his lips to hers in a slow kiss. It burned inside and out, making her dizzy. “Are you sure you don’t have pheromones? Because every time you kiss me, I go a little crazy—in a good way.”

Her dragon shifter grinned wickedly at her. “It’s a mate thing, my delicate rose. It will only grow stronger the more time we spend together.”

“You know about a lot about mates for not having one,” she noted.

Her mate sobered. “I’ve wanted one for so long, even as a boy. I knew I couldn’t have my own, but I could at least dream about it and help my brothers recognize theirs. Keep them off the path that was mine alone.”

Charlotte gazed at him, her heart tight in her chest. To think of this beautiful, brave man longing for a life he would never have and yet fantasizing about it was, she had to admit, a bit of a turn on.

“So let me get this straight—you, the sexiest man I’ve ever met, who could have any woman you want, your dream was to have one mate for the rest of your life?”

He nodded, his lips pursed as though he had been afraid to admit it.

She pulled his mouth down to hers, kissing him hungrily. “That is the most romantic, the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard.” Each time their lips met, something seemed to tighten between them, like threads being woven closer and closer together on an elaborate tapestry.

I will love this man, this dragon. It’s already happening. It’s been happening since I met him. But she was seeing things from Rurik’s point of view as well now. A human lifetime was nothing to him, so even if the drug was in the right hands now didn’t mean it would be a century from now. The only way she could picture the Brotherhood changing for good would be if they established real ties with families like the Barinovs. She thought of the old woman with her tarot cards and the message she felt they had sent her.

“Rurik,” she whispered, “I think we have to find a way to bring your family and mine together. Make them understand they don’t have to be enemies.”

He shook his head, a rueful smile upon his lips. “Bring the Capulets and Montagues together? I know how this story ends. ‘Thus, with a kiss, I die.’”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re really melodramatic, you know?”

He shrugged. “I’ve been around a long time. I’ve seen the Brotherhood at its worst. Dark times where they hunted my kind, killed mates and drakelings who were only protecting themselves. They murdered children. It’s hard to forget that.” He still held her close, but she felt the distance between them span like a vast abyss.

“Hey.” She tugged his coat, catching his attention. “Don’t shut me out like that. I believe you about the past, but my father spent his life changing how the Brotherhood works, and Damien’s carried on that legacy. This isn’t the Brotherhood you know. Damien has…” She puzzled over the right word. “He has a soft heart. He’s all exterior roughness, but there’s gold inside him, like you. Jason…” She paused again, finally realizing the dichotomy of her brothers for the first time. “Jason acts like a sarcastic teddy bear. But deep down, he’s all steel.” It wasn’t that he was a stone-cold killer, but he wouldn’t hesitate in a situation where Damien would. Jason would go with his gut instead of stopping to think through all the options.

“You really aren’t convincing me that meeting your brothers is a good idea.”

“It will be fine. I know it. I just have to explain everything before they meet you. If I call them with an entire ocean between us, they can’t do anything rash. I’ll call them after we get back to Moscow.”

“Aren’t they wondering where you are?” Rurik asked. They started to walk through the rest of the palace, their heads close together and their fingers laced.

“They think I’m in New York at some boring conference. I’ve gone to a lot of those. It was my only real way to travel. They never let me vacation alone or go anywhere exciting outside of the United States. It’s been really…”

“Controlling,” he finished for her.

She laughed. “I was going to say lonely, but you’re right. They are controlling. I don’t think they’ve ever understood me. They had their fellow hunters, the ones who understood the organization, but me? I was never allowed to be a part of that life. To them, I was a civilian, yet they didn’t let me have any freedom, either. Worst of both worlds.”

Rurik murmured in assent. “It is smart, to keep you close and protected. You can’t fault them for that.”

“Can’t I?” she challenged. “They’re so focused on keeping me alive that I’ve never had the chance to live. I would have risked anything to feel like a normal girl for just five minutes. I couldn’t even go on a date without a background check and someone tailing me. Believe it or not, I met my best friend Meg that way. Damien had her tailing me when she was a trainee. She felt bad for me and told me about it, and we became friends.”

“Seriously?” Rurik burst out laughing. The sound was rich and warm, and it dispelled some of the anger that had been building inside her. She thought of the crazy things Damien and Jason had done to keep her life safe but unfulfilling, and she laughed.

“Let’s just say my senior prom date doesn’t remember most of our date. Damien and Jason found out he had a few misdemeanors and interrogated him for the better part of an hour. With truth serum. I had to practically hold him up during our photos after the dance.”

Rurik was still laughing as they reached the glittering hallway. He stopped at the top of the stairs and brushed her hair away from her face, staring deeply into her eyes in a way that made her knees buckle.

“I don’t want you to ever be lonely again.” He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers in a deep, soft kiss that filled her with dreams of warm sunny mornings in a shared bed, whispering sweet nothings and kissing for hours. She melted into Rurik, unable to hold anything of herself back. When they finally stepped apart, his gaze had become serious.

“Charlotte, I have a home in the Fire Hills. It’s a few hours from here. I would love to take you there.”

She bit her lip, considering it. She knew for sure that she didn’t want to leave, but to stay… Were they rushing this whole thing? Going too fast?

“I’d love to…”

He picked up on her hesitation. “But?”

“Are we rushing this? I mean…I know so little about you other than that we’re mated.” When Rurik’s eyes grew shadowed, she reached out to touch him. “But I want to. So talk to me. Tell me something.”

Rurik relaxed as they ascended the stairs, and the erratic pulse of her heart calmed a little. She didn’t want to upset him, but she meant what she said. The fact was he was a stranger to her. He knew more about her than she did about him.

He chuckled, pausing. “Where to start?”

“What about the nightclub? Why did you choose to go into that business?”

He stroked his chin, considering his answer. “The clubs aren’t just about dancing. They are about letting go of control, about living a fantasy, even if only one night. I’m addicted to that feeling. As a battle dragon, I have to stay in control all the time.”

“Except with your mate?” she asked, a blush heating her face as she remembered how they’d made love the last time, with her on her hands and knees and him behind her. There hadn’t been anything controlled about that.

“Yes. That’s the one time I can be me, in bed and out. But the club helps me feel close to that. It was why I had you dance in that cage.”

“I still can’t believe you did that.” She was half teasing, half admonishing.

Rurik moved to the side of the stairs, cornering her against the wall, grinning.

“I gave you a mental nudge, nothing more. I could see how much you wanted to try it, but you were holding yourself back.” He trailed a fingertip down the column of her throat. What was it about him that made her feel so reckless and wild? He carried an edge of danger that made her forget her worries and want to live only in the moment.

She saw the grin on his lips and slapped his shoulder. “Stop playing games.”

“Ah, but there are so many games we can play,” he whispered darkly. “Games that will leave you wet and breathless, perhaps even hoarse from screaming my name.” His lips twisted in a seductive smile that weakened her knees and made her womb clench. “I’ve had thirteen hundred years to perfect my lovemaking skills.” He closed the distance between them, kissing her hungrily, as though she were the cure to a fever that was burning him up.

His chin was covered in light stubble, and it burned her skin in a wonderfully erotic way. He bit her bottom lip, tugging on it, and she moaned helplessly, always wanting more. Her body needed to be connected to him. Now.

“What kind of games?” she asked as he released her lower lip. Her breath quickened as he pressed a thigh between her legs, rubbing her sensitive clit. She clutched at his shoulders.

He licked the shell of her ear. “Any kind you want. I admit I like the idea of you being bound. I’d love to tie you down and torture you with my hands and mouth. Any fantasy you have, I can make it come true.” He pressed his thigh against her core again, whispering all the things he wanted to do to her and how it would make her feel. The need to come was so strong she couldn’t stand another—

Smack!

He’d given her ass a little slap at just the right moment, and she exploded. He covered her mouth with his, silencing her cry of pleasure. Her eyes flew open for a few seconds as she tried to breathe through the violent riptide of her climax. Above her, the gold lights of the electric candles bounced off the mirrored walls of the hall and the tapestries lining the stairs. She’d always wanted to live a princess fantasy, but this was close enough: having an orgasm on the stairs of the Catherine Palace with her dark Russian prince.

It was a perfect dream, and she was so afraid it was going to stay just that, a dream that would never be a reality within her reach.