How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us just once as beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrifying is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants help from us.

―Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

Madelyn stared in fright at the two massive dragons circling each other. They were going to fight . . . tear each other apart. This wasn’t simply play fighting as they had intended. There had been one moment when they had changed and she’d thought everything was fine, until they’d turned her way, eyes gleaming. She’d seen them both fixate on her the moment the breeze rushed along her skin and hair. Both of their beautiful but reptilian gazes had swung to her. Grigori inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring before the feral gleam in his eyes softened and he turned his back on his brother.

She’d seen that look before in her nightmares, the predatory, primitive glint. But unlike her dreams, she didn’t run. She stood her ground. She couldn’t flee. It might make them chase her. And honestly, she couldn’t move. It was as though her feet had grown roots and she was stuck. Flashes of her nightmares, of the dragon hunting her, had come back in a rush and she knew on an instinctual level something was wrong.

Rurik had made a rush at her and Grigori had blocked him in a clear attack. The playful side she’d seen as they’d danced about each other earlier was gone. This was brutal, this was real. They were actually fighting.

The dragons were incredible to behold. They were the length of two school buses end to end, their tails lashing like whips and their wings flapping as they slashed and clawed. The elegant snouts were open, white teeth snapping as they tried to bite each other. Small puffs of smoke curled up from their nostrils. These were the creatures that had inspired myths and legends. They weren’t some rare breed of oversized reptiles. They were honest-to-God dragons, just like in the fairy tale books she’d read as a kid.

Half of Madelyn was fascinated, but the other half of her was screaming in terror, beating at the walls of her mind. The tingling in her skin was so strong that it felt like it was almost on fire. She watched Rurik, the black dragon, rear up and roar. She almost fell on her ass.

Grigori hissed, the sound vicious as he swiped at Rurik. The blue and silver dragon glanced her way, and his golden eyes were all beast except for the faintest quicksilver flash of the man she knew was within. He huffed at her, shouldering closer to her and herding her until she was safe behind him.

He’s protecting you, a surprised little voice in her head whispered. But why? Madelyn stumbled through the waist-high gold grass, keeping behind Grigori and watching out for his long tail with the barbed spines along the ridge. She didn’t want to get wiped out by that. It could club her to death if it hit her. But he kept his tail well away from her, careful to shield her.

Both dragons were hissing now, the sound harsh and echoing against the mountains making it sound like a hundred dragons were in the hidden valley.

Rurik swung his tail and lunged for Madelyn but she dove to the ground just as Grigori launched at him. Their claws slashed and jaws snapped. Grigori forced Rurik back with a series of aggressive lunges. It reminded Madelyn of an old documentary she’d seen of cobras fighting. The deadly dance, the circling, the forward dives, the bobbing heads.

Another lunge, another shrieking roar that bounced off the stone crevices of the mountains. The brothers locked bodies, jaws sinking into scaly flesh. Madelyn scrambled away, her feet pounding on the ground and her heart smashing against her ribcage as she sucked in ragged breaths. She sprinted toward for the safety of Grigori’s house, but when she reached the steps, heart still hammering wildly, she saw that the dragons had broken apart and both taken flight.

The wind created by their wings was thick, pushing back nearby trees as the two dragons circled higher and higher. Then they were merely two dark shapes far above her.

She had to stop this. The dragons crashed into each other above her, each of them roaring out their rage. They tumbled as they clawed at each other before their wings flapped again and they stabilized. Madelyn knew they would kill each other. They had to be stopped.

“Grigori!” She shouted but something told her that the man she was falling for was too deep inside the beast and beyond her reach.

The burning beneath her skin grew stronger and a new voice, one that spoke to her with sensations and images burst through her mind. It was as though she’d been in a dark cave, watching pools of sunlight from a vast distance. But now . . . she was sprinting toward the light . . .

Madelyn saw the dragons break apart and each began a dive straight toward the ground at each other. In a single flash of her mind, she knew what she had to do, some long-buried instinct took over. Both dragons had their wings flat against their bodies as they plummeted from the clouds. Madelyn ran back out of the field coming between the shadows cast by their bodies as they dropped toward each other and her.

Have to stop them . . .

Flinging out her arms, she opened her mouth and let out a high-pitched unearthly cry. The tension inside her exploded outward. In a booming crash, a blast of air shot out of her palms aimed at each dragon. The wind rushed at them like a gale force, knocking into them like they’d hit invisible walls. Both beasts bounced back and hit the ground fifty feet apart.

Gasping, Madelyn fell to her knees, her head spinning as she tried to regain her breath. When she raised her head she saw both Grigori and Rurik lying on the crumpled gold grass, their serpentine bodies shaking and then transforming back into human men in seconds. Rurik coughed, clutching his still-wounded side. New scratches slashed across his back and neck. He stared at her from a sitting position as he sucked in breaths. When she turned to Grigori, he was also sitting up, panting. It was another minute or two before both men stumbled over to their piles of clothes and got dressed.

Madelyn didn’t move. Her mind was fuzzy and her body was sore, as though she’d exhausted every single muscle in her body in one great exertion. Rurik kept his distance, his brown eyes hard and cold. But when Grigori reached her, he knelt beside her and cupped her face, his blue eyes dark with worry.

“Madelyn,” he whispered over and over before he kissed her softly, almost reverently on the mouth.

“I feel sick,” she confessed just as quietly. Her mind was reeling and her body was exhausted. She couldn’t even begin to understand what she’d just done. All she knew what that she had done something unnatural, something not human . . .

“Just rest,” Grigori said, stroking her hair. Then after another kiss to her cheek he pulled back. “Why didn’t you tell me? It was too dangerous to let you out here when we changed. If I had known . . .” he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses touching.

“Tell you . . . what?” She panted softly, leaning into him. She still felt muddy headed. All she wanted to do was sleep.

“What you are,” Grigori said. “It explains everything. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before.” He shook his head, a rueful smile twisting his lips as he cuddled her against him. All around them the gold grass waved in slow ripples from the winds that dropped down from the Fire Hills.

“What I am?” she demanded, the fog in her brain starting to clear. She didn’t understand what he was saying.

He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lips.

“You don’t know?” His eyes widened.

She shook her head, suddenly afraid that whatever he was about to tell her would change her life. It was too late to go back, though. What she’d done in the meadow was real, and it was not normal.

“You’re a thunderbird.” It was Rurik who spoke. He walked closer but still stayed a safe distance away.

“A what?” She had heard the word before . . . But only in a few minor Native American sources regarding mythology around lake dragons in North America. “You mean . . . like a . . .” she couldn’t seem to bring herself to say the word. It didn’t make any sense. How could she be something for her entire life and never know?

“You really had no idea?” Grigori brushed a lock of her hair back from her face, his eyes pensive.

“That’s crazy. I can’t be . . . I mean, I would know if I wasn’t human right?”

The brothers exchanged looks and Grigori said something in Russian and with a sigh, Rurik came closer, kneeling down beside her.

“Don’t . . . blast me like that again.” Rurik warned in a low voice. There was a bite to his tone that startled her.

“I don’t even know how I did it. Is that bad?” Her body was shaking from exhaustion. She tried to get up but fell into Grigori’s arms.

“Rurik, she can’t even stand. She won’t be able to do that again anytime soon.” Grigori scooped her up, cradling her in his arms as he and Rurik headed back to Grigori’s home.

“But what did I do? What am I?” Madelyn asked, her voice trembling. She felt weak and scared, and all she knew was that she just demonstrated some kind of ability that knocked two dragons out of the sky and forced them to shift back into human bodies.

“You . . .” Grigori paused as he reached the front door. “Are a thunderbird. One of the few, if not the only, natural enemies of dragons. It’s why you terrify my brother.” He chuckled.

“You’re damned right I’m terrified. She could have killed us.”

“But I didn’t want to hurt either of you. I just wanted you to stop killing each other,” Madelyn explained. Suddenly there was a rush of noise as servants hurried over to them, all talking hastily in Russian, their eyes wide and expressions fearful. Grigori spoke soothingly and calmly and then when the panic finally died down he issued orders.

“Please prepare the three dinner trays for the main library. We will dine in there tonight.”

One of the older men, probably the head butler or whatever the Russian equivalent was, nodded and waved his hand at the fleet of maids and footmen. They all scampered away, leaving Grigori to walk down the hall. Rurik trailed behind them.

“Are you going to tell me more about thunderbirds?” Madelyn gave an experimental kick, hoping he realized she was capable of walking now, even if it did feel nice to be carried. When he held her, she felt safe. The panicky, shivery sensation under her skin vanished completely.

“We will tell you as much as we know, but I’ve never met one before today. thunderbirds are rare, and for the last few years we believed your race may have been extinct,” Grigori said, his tone sounded softer, a pitch of sorrow to it that Madelyn didn’t understand.

“Extinct?” The thought of belonging to something that was possibly gone forever left her hollow inside. And then she realized something. “Does that mean my biological parents were thunderbirds?”

“They would have to be. At least one of them. I’m not sure if they are like dragons. We must breed with female dragon shifters to produce drakelings,” Rurik said as he moved ahead of them and opened the door.

“What are drakelings?” Madelyn tapped Grigori on the shoulder, hoping he would let her down now.

“That’s our word for children.” Grigori tossed his pale hair out of his eyes before he carried her into the room.

“Wait, you have to be with other dragons to have kids?” A slice of pain cut through her heart. If that was true, then she and Grigori couldn’t have children.

“Yes,” his solemn gaze fixed on hers and she could see he was thinking the same thing.

“Oh,” she let out a breath, trying to ignore the stabbing hurt inside her. He lowered his head to hers, nuzzling her cheek.

“It doesn’t matter to me. You are what matters to me. Now,” he cleared his throat. “I’ve been dying to show you what I hope will be your second favorite room here—aside from my bedroom, that is.” His chuckle warmed her and she saw what he was trying to do. Distract me from my heartache, and his. And I adore him for it.

She glanced around the room they entered and her heart stopped. This was more than a library. It was a heaven just for books. The tall room was filled with cherrywood bookshelves that required ladders in several places to reach the top shelves. Late afternoon sunlight bathed the beautiful room in gold. Grigori carried Madelyn to a couch and set her down. He then glanced at Rurik.

“I’m going to fetch a shirt.” Then he placed a quick, heated kiss on her lips and left the library.

Rurik kept a discreet distance away from her.

“I didn’t mean to . . . hurt you or . . . scare you.” She wrapped her arms around her chest, feeling vulnerable, and frankly like she was a ticking time bomb. What if it happened again? That’s probably why Rurik looked ready to dive behind the nearest couch and take cover. He didn’t say anything, and the silence bothered her.

“Are you really afraid of me?” she challenged. His lack of response rankled her. She hadn’t wanted to hurt him and she definitely wasn’t going to now. She had a sixth sense that her skin would warn her when a pulse of air was building again.

“Am I afraid?” Rurik phrased the question carefully as he placed his muscled arms on display when he crossed them over his chest. “Yes. You alone scare me when nothing else for centuries has. Grigori hasn’t told you, but thunderbirds killed our parents. If he wasn’t falling in love with you, he wouldn’t be so blind to the danger you present. You could kill us.” He paused, his arms dropping to his sides, his hands balled into fists. The aggressive move made her skin prickle in her and his nostrils flared.

“I couldn’t smell that part of you until I turned into a dragon. I was going to kill you, but he stopped me.”

“Why?” She’d seen that moment in Grigori’s eyes when his beast to consider killing her but then decided against it. Was Rurik right? Was Grigori falling in love with me as much as I’m falling for him?

“Only he can tell you. It’s not my place.” He relaxed slightly. Madelyn relaxed too, but she didn’t miss the combative glint in his brown eyes.

“I don’t want to be your enemy,” she said.

“You don’t get a choice. We’re two apex predators. We can’t get along.”

Madelyn considered his words. “We don’t have to fight. I believe in choices and I choose not to be a creature destined to destroy or be destroyed.”

Rurik opened his mouth, but Grigori came back into the library. He now wore a black T-shirt like Rurik and she marveled at the resemblance. Rurik was gorgeous in a scarred, scary sort of way, but Grigori . . . he was a fallen angel. One that sent a rush of erotic thoughts through her. He approached her and sat on the couch, caging her in as he leaned in close to inhale her neck.

“The rain,” he mused. “I understand now. You smell like it when you feel something strongly. You summon the storms.” He feathered his lips over her skin and a distant rumble of thunder outside made her jump. Grigori chuckled.

“But I hate the rain,” she protested.

“Only because it comes from your pain, but it can come from joy and . . .” He nuzzled her cheek. “Arousal. Don’t be afraid of what you are, Madelyn.”

Even if we are destined to destroy each other?

She closed her eyes and gripped the neck of his shirt, pulling him the last few inches until their mouths met. In just one hour her entire life, everything she understood about who she was and where she’d come from had been obliterated. When she kissed Grigori, the fear faded. The feel of his lips, the taste of him on her tongue, and a deep sense of rightness of being close to him was stronger than the pulsing of her powers beneath her skin.

I choose my destiny. I choose Grigori.

* * *

Dimitri Drakor reclined in his black leather chair in his private apartments near the Kremlin, thinking. He’d been prepared to call for an immediate battle with Grigori yesterday, but then he’d caught a glimpse of the other man’s tattoo. And a new plan formed. One he was quite certain would succeed. He picked up a framed photo from his desk. The picture of his son Ruslan on his six hundredth birthday. Ruslan was grinning cockily at the camera, ready to take on the world. Dimitri smiled.

He had wanted great things for his family and for his son. But Ruslan was dead and that legacy was a phantom. Dimitri was over three thousand years old and he felt the passage of time more and more, the grains dropping piece by piece into an hourglass.

He would’ve been honored to die at his son’s hands, but he was facing a new destiny now. He brushed the pad of his thumb over Ruslan’s face in the photograph. His heart, while mostly black, still beat and bled for his family. Ruslan had been his chosen heir, his firstborn son, but his favorite child was actually his daughter Tasha.

She was too softhearted. Russia was no place for a beautiful softhearted dragoness. The wilds of Russia were harsh and uncompromising, and if Tasha had stayed with him she would have to have been guarded daily for her own protection. The other Drakor dragons would have hungered for her and he didn’t want her, his darling Tasha, to be bred by any male who would not treat her as the gem she was. Tasha deserved a mate and she would not find a worthy one among the Drakors.

Dimitri stared at the picture of Ruslan again and scowled. He couldn’t let thoughts of Tasha soften him. He needed to focus on vengeance for his son. Grigori Barinov had found his mate, that auburn-haired woman at the office. The human. Dimitri smiled coldly. They were not fully mated yet, but they would be soon. The tattoo had told him that much, the dragon crouching over the nest. It was why he agreed to postpone the fight by two weeks. He wanted to give Grigori time to claim his mate and fall in love with her. And then, once Grigori was hopelessly smitten and attached in every way to his beloved human . . . Dimitri would strike.

He would kidnap the woman and use her to destroy the head of the Barinov family. And then there would only be one left. Rurik, who would be unstable after watching his brother die, would be easy to kill. And Mikhail, the dragon who hadn’t been seen in two hundred years. Dimitri doubted he was even still alive.

And once all the Barinovs were gone, the Drakors would rule all of Russia. He set the picture of Ruslan back down and placed his hands behind his head in a pose of relaxation. He began to hum a Russian lullaby and smiled.