If you are still here with me, if in this darkness

there is still some place where your spirit resonates

on the shallow soundwaves stirred up by my voice:

hear me; help me.

—Rainer Maria Rilke

Pain radiated from radiated from Grigori’s stomach as he hunched over. His hands clawed into the dirt as he tried to swallow his dragon’s roar in his throat. He raised his head, staring at Drakor. Madelyn lay on the ground, unmoving. Oh gods, not his mate . . .

“No!” He started to shift, letting the beast take over.

Drakor scrambled to pick up the gun and fired at Grigori a second time. Grigori dodged but he wasn’t fast enough, the bullet struck his shoulder and he fell back, panting and grunting with vicious impact of the bullet. His vison cartwheeled as he tried to right himself. A shadow fell over him and he looked up, his body trembling as his dragon struggled to break free through the pain. Drakor stood over him.

“If you’re brave enough, you can retrieve what’s left of your mate in two days at the border.” Then Drakor kicked Grigori’s face and darkness swallowed him up.

When he woke it was hours later. The shadows of night were seeping along the horizon turning it a dark purple. His mind was fuzzy and he licked his dry lips, tasting blood from a split lip. Every part of his body hurt.

What the hell had happened to him?

It took him several long seconds before the memories of the afternoon returned. Drakor looming over him, kicking him, the gunshots and his mate lying still as death on the ground.

“Madelyn!” He gasped her name and clutched his stomach. He had to shift in order to heal. He let the beast come surging to the surface, but he was too wounded to fully transform.

I must reach Rurik . . . he threw up one bloodied hand and let a jet of fire hit a copse of nearby trees. They exploded in flames and the black smoke began to plume upward. He hoped his brother would see the signal. Every bone in his body wanted him to collapse back onto the ground, but his heart refused.

Drakor had taken Madelyn. Grigori had to get up, had to save her. He got to his feet, stumbling slightly as he pressed his hand to his stomach.

Several long minutes later the hum of the car’s engine and gravel spitting under tires roused Grigori. He peered hopefully through the trees at the vehicle skidding to a halt close by. Rurik slammed the Range Rover into park and rushed toward him.

“Grigori? What happened? Where’s Madelyn?” His brother threw one of Grigori’s arms over his shoulder and helped him back to the rover.

“Drakor. He came upon us by the lake. He shot me and took her. He said to meet him at the border in two days.” To get what’s left of your mate . . . The awful words sent chills through him.

“That bastard. I’ll rip his entrails out and use them as a necklace,” Rurik snarled as he helped Grigori into the back of the Range Rover.

“Just drive . . .” Grigori ordered as he lay back, still bleeding. He put one hand over his abdomen, feeling the blood still oozing between his fingers. Fuck . . . He was in no condition to fight in a battle of honor or for his mate, but he had to. He would find her and save her.

Rurik slammed down on the gas pedal and took careening turns as he hit the sharp winding path back to the main road. Grigori closed his eyes, deepened his breath and try to remain calm. It wouldn’t help Madelyn if he fell apart now. She was alive. He would know if she’d . . . He didn’t finish that thought. It was too dangerous to even think about it.

Neither he nor Rurik spoke until they reached the house and then it was only to talk to the servants. They headed to the nearest bathroom. His wounds didn’t appear to be fatal. It took a lot to kill a dragon and Drakor knew just how far to push it.

So why didn’t he kill me then and there? He could have finished me off.

Was there still some remnant of honor inside that black-scaled bastard or was he coward enough to want to drag it out in a battle with clearly uneven odds?

“Here, let me see.” Rurik shoved Grigori down to sit on the edge of his bathtub and studied the two wounds.

“The shoulder’s a clean shot,” Rurik said, and then bent lower to check Grigori’s abdomen. “Another clean shot, thank the gods. Looks like the bullet went out the other side. Did you try to shift?”

Grigori nodded. “Tried to, but couldn’t. Too weak.” He hated admitting any kind of weakness, especially to his baby brother, but he couldn’t keep a secret like that from him. Not when they were in danger of losing the upcoming battle to the Drakors.

“Rurik . . .” Grigori sighed, and the movement made him wince.

“I’m sorry,” Rurik said, their eyes meeting briefly. “It’s going to hurt like hell when I clean this.”

“There’s something I need to tell you . . .” If he didn’t make it through the battle, he wanted Rurik to know what happened to Madelyn’s parents, because if she wasn’t like a dragoness and she survived losing him, he needed Rurik to take care of her. And for that to happen Rurik had to know the truth of how much the Barinovs owed Madelyn since they had taken her parents from her.

“No, no deathbed confessions. Sorry, brother, but I won’t listen.” Rurik scowled darkly at him.

“No, it’s not my confession. It’s more complicated than that. If something happens to me when I face Drakor, and Madelyn survives, you have to take care of her. We owe it to her.” He gripped his brother’s shirt with a fist, using the last of his strength. He needed to know his brother would care for his mate. As a thunderbird, she might not die, he hoped she would not die if he perished in battle. He wanted to know she would have a long, happy life, even if he could not be there to share with her.

“Of course, but—”

“Listen to me. Our father . . . He killed Madelyn’s parents. It was a pair of thunderbirds in Michigan. Mother found Madelyn trapped in the car after the fight when she was two years old.” Telling Rurik this was the only way he could make his brother understand what they owed Madelyn. Their parents had killed hers without cause or provocation and she’d been orphaned. They owed her an obligation of honor to take care of her, even more so because she was his mate.

Rurik had stopped dabbing a wet towel on Grigori’s shoulder and was now staring at him.

“No . . .” He shook his head.

“Yes. I couldn’t believe it but Madelyn has these dreams and when she saw our mother’s portrait she knew what had happened. That horrible night came back to her. Do you see, brother? We have been tied together from the moment she was born. Our family must protect her. Our mother’s last act on this earth was to deliver Madelyn to safety. And now she is my mate, my other half. She’s carrying my child.”

“What?” Rurik stared at him.

“I don’t know how it’s possible. Perhaps because she’s my true mate, and she’s immortal . . .” He tried not to think of his unborn child in Drakor’s hands. “You must protect them both if I fail.”

For the first time in centuries, Grigori saw his brother’s face age. He didn’t look like the wild man of twenty-eight that he appeared. He looked like a dragon that was almost a thousand years old, and the weight of each of his many years was finally coming down upon his shoulders. It had been a burden Grigori had always carried as the eldest Barinov. He hated forcing his brother to share the crushing weight, but it was necessary, for Madelyn.

“Please. . . . Please.” The word please came out a ragged sound and Rurik blinked harshly and nodded.

“You don’t need to ask that of me. I will protect her with my life.”

Grigori smiled sadly, his body relaxing as he slumped. He was so tired . . . He wanted to like back and close his eyes. Rest for a moment and then rescue his mate—

Whap! An open hand smacked him hard across the cheek.

“Pull yourself together. We aren’t done yet,” Rurik growled.

“One of these days I’m going to hit you back and you’ll hit the mountain so hard you make a damned hole in it.” Grigori snarled.

“Good, that’s the brother I want to see.” A cheerful grin split Rurik’s face.

A maid appeared in the bathroom doorway and smiled at Rurik as she handed him a stack of clothes and a bottle of vodka.

“Thank you, Alyona.” He took the items and faced Grigori. “Lean over the tub, brother, this will hurt like the devil.”

Grigori leaned back, bracing himself on the opposite side of the tub with his good arm. Rurik open the bottle of vodka and raised it to his own lips. When Grigori stared at him, he shrugged.

“What? I don’t know where the rubbing alcohol is and besides, it’s one of our better bottles. Didn’t want to waste the whole thing on you.” Then he dribbled the vodka over Grigori’s shoulder and abdomen.

A moan of pain escaped Grigori but he clenched his teeth. Once the blood washed away, his body began the process of healing naturally, which was quicker for a dragon.

“I still can’t believe it. Madelyn’s parents fought our father. How does she feel about us? Does she hate us?” Rurik asked.

“No . . . She believes it is a sign of destiny. We were brought together by tragedy, but there is only love between us.”

A soft, rare smile passed over Rurik’s lips. “I never thought you, out of any dragon I’ve met, would settle down and mate.”

“You once asked me if I ever did anything for myself that wasn’t connected to my duty to our family. She and my child are that two things I crave and cherish for my own heart and no one else.” The thought of her at the mercy of Dimitri filled him with a mindless black rage and a need to exact vengeance. If she or the baby were harmed in any way, Grigori would burn down all of Eastern Russia to punish the Drakors.

Rurik retrieved a first aid kit from beneath the sink and made quick work of bandaging Grigori’s wounds.

“We have to head for the border at first light. We have two days, but I plan on arriving much sooner to call him out.”

Grigori stood, rotating his bad shoulder, and bit the inside of his cheek to hide a wince. Dimitri had made damn sure that he wouldn’t have any advantages in the upcoming battle.

“I guess we’re throwing the honor rules out the window?” Rurik asked, a half-crazy grin on his lips.

“We are. He crossed the line when he took Madelyn. There is no honor in taking another dragon’s mate hostage.” Grigori followed Rurik as they headed to his study. He wanted to review the most recent maps of the territories to get an accurate lay of the land. While most dragons fought in the sky, it was important to be completely familiar with one’s terrain.

“I think it’s time we run the Drakors out of Russia for good.” Rurik’s eyes glowed with the excitement of the upcoming battle.

“The treaty has been shattered,” Grigori agreed. “You might be right.” Neither of them acknowledged the danger. The Drakors outnumbered them twenty to two.

“It’s too bad Mikhail isn’t here to see this. He always loved to knock Drakors out of the sky,” Rurik sighed wistfully. Grigori wasn’t listening. His thoughts were a thousand miles away. He could sense Madelyn waking up, like her consciousness was so close to his, like he could just sense her through a heavy fog. That sense of their minds and hearts merging. It had begun the night they had claimed each other but was growing stronger every moment.

“Tell me where you are,” he silently pushed the thought through the fog in his mind, hoping she could hear it and answer him. There were hundreds of miles of border and he had no idea where Dimitri would want to meet him. The man had been too intent on shooting him to give him a precise location,.

“Come on, Madelyn. Show me where he is taking you.”

* * *

The first thing Madelyn was aware of when she woke was excruciating pain radiating from her left cheek and jaw. Bit by bit, she became aware of her surroundings and the damp craggy stone floor that pressed into her cheek and her hands. She lay stomach-down on the ground as if she’d been dropped there. It was dark and her eyes had to adjust. A drip-drip echoed from somewhere above but she sensed she was close to water. Was she in a cave? And just like that the memories of the last day came flooding back.

Dimitri Drakor had shot Grigori, struck her and then . . . nothing. Now she was here, wherever here was. He brought her to some cold, damp cave.

“Finally awake . . . I was worried I might have hit you too hard. Mortals are so deliciously fragile. So easy to break.” A cold voice echoed around her, making her jump and suck in a panicked breath.

“Tell me, Ms. Haynes. What does Grigori Barinov see in you? You’re not the typical type of woman dragons take to bed, and you certainly aren’t mate material, so what about you has captured his heart?” Dimitri’s voice seemed to slither out of the darkness all around her. She shuddered as she slowly pushed up off the ground and got to her feet. She knew she should have been terrified to be captured by the enemy of her mate, a merciless killer, but she was more angry than afraid. It didn’t make sense. The old Madelyn would have been shaking like a leaf and begging to be let go. But ever since she’d released that pulse on Grigori and Rurik and discovered who she was . . . there had been a sense of calm inside her, an unshakeable belief that she finally knew who she was. It made her unafraid.

“You shot Grigori.” Her tone was soft, but it was more like velvet coated in steel. She searched inside herself for the thunderbird. If there was ever a time to use her powers, it was now. But all she could summon was a faint tingling under her skin.

“Of course I did,” Dimitri chuckled. “Couldn’t have him following me to my lair. That would ruin the delightful plans I have in store for you both.” He continued to laugh as though at some private joke. Lair? Was he serious? No wonder the Barinovs hated the Drakors. They seemed to embrace all the bad things about their shapeshifting side.

“Having a lair is pretty clichéd, don’t you think?” she challenged the darkness.

Dimitri Drakor stepped slowly into the light and she forced her pounding heart to calm. He was a dark and evil god, one that made every instinct inside her scream in panic. He wore dark trousers and a black jacket, as he came toward her, his movements whispered of a lethal grace. In two quick strides, Drakor ate up the distance between them, one hand clamped around her throat, squeezing.

“Cliché? My dear little human, you know nothing of clichés.” His nostrils flared and he leaned in to inhale her scent.

Little black dots blurred her vision as he continued to squeeze her throat and breathe in.

“You smell . . . strange. Enticing and dangerous. Why is that?” He sucked in another deep breath, his nose brushing her ear as he did so.

“Is that why he likes you? A scent like that could drive a man mad. Fucking you would be a wild ride.” He laughed softly, the sound a little sharp. “Maybe I should have a taste. I’ve never stolen another dragon’s mate before. How mad will he be to know I’ve owned your body too?”

Madelyn hissed out a wild, angry noise that was strangled by his grip. She clawed at him, digging her nails in. A tiny pulse skittered up her body and into her palms.

“Ahh!” He snarled and released her, to clutch his hand. Tiny half-moon gouges bled from where she dug her nails in. Madelyn fell back against the cave wall, panting and rubbing at her tender crushed windpipe. Her fingers felt strange. When she glanced down she noticed that they had somehow seemed to sharpen but were now retreating.

“Fair enough, I give you points for drawing blood, but I daresay you won’t have a chance to repeat that little victory.” He moved toward her again, but a sound from deeper into the cave made them both freeze. A tall, muscled man rushed into the small space, barely looking at her.

“Uncle, the Barinovs have been spotted on the horizon. They’re early.”

“Fire’s blood,” Dimitri cursed. “Make sure the ambush is ready, on my signal.”

The other man finally glanced at her before focusing on Dimitri again and even in the dimness of the cave, Madelyn noticed a look passed between them. It made the fine hairs on the back of her neck rise. They were planning an ambush and there was a signal . . . that had to do with her. She wasn’t foolish, she knew what that flicker of a look meant.

“Go on, I’ll bring the girl,” Dimitri said. Then he grabbed her arm, a cold sneer on his lips. “I would have liked to have more time with you, but it seems our acquaintance will be short.”

Madelyn suddenly sensed Grigori in her mind, like a thin gossamer veil separated her from him.

“Tell me where you are, Madelyn. Show me . . .”

She pressed at the veil, imagining herself pushing through with an image of dragons hiding in wait. “Be careful.”

An image of a silver dragon blowing fire across the earth exploded through the barrier in her mind. Grigori was furious and hungry for vengeance. A surge of pride filled Madelyn and as Dimitri grabbed her arm, she started to laugh.

“What is so funny?” He slammed her against the wall. The back of her head smacked hard enough that she momentarily saw stars, but she kept laughing.

“You’ve never had a mate so you can’t imagine the wrath you are about to face. He won’t just defeat you. He’s going to kill you and everyone else.” It wasn’t just that. The thunderbird in her was gaining strength again. Slowly, the pulse was starting to hum like bees around the nest in the height of summer. It was a comforting sensation now, but to her enemies, it would be a death bell tolling.

“Stop laughing!” Dimitri struck her hard and her lip split, blood gushing in her mouth. She swallowed the pain and turned back to face him. There was no breath left in her to laugh, but she smiled, even if it was bloody.

The little girl who’d grown up feeling alone and afraid and out of place was fading like mist beneath the bright noonday sun. The Barinov dragons were flying toward her and she was one of them. This battle was one she would help them win.

Because I’m immortal, I have gifts that can help. I can do this.

Never in her life had she been filled with this much confidence. No more hiding, no more running, no more fear of the rain. She was going to bring a firestorm down on these Drakor bastards and make her mate and his brother proud. Because I’m a Barinov too.

Dimitri dragged her through the winding cave for several minutes. Then the scent of fresh air trickled past them and, after one more turn, they were suddenly on a vast cliff ledge overlooking a huge rocky valley. Dimitri gripped her by the back of her neck and they looked to the skies ahead. Through a cloud bank in front of them, Grigori and Rurik exploded into view. A silver dragon and a black one were an intimidating sight in the narrow valley. Madelyn scanned the terrain. They were in a small rocky set of hills with hundreds of cave entrances all around them. A perfect place to ambush any dragons which might enter.

“Grigori!” She screamed his name and the cry echoed against the rocks just as she had hoped.

Grigori and Rurik halted in midair, their wings buffeting them to stay afloat. Their heads turned, searching for her. Grigori’s silver frill fanned up, making him beautiful and menacing all at once as he opened his jaws and roared.

“Stupid bitch!” Dimitri squeezed her neck and then shouted. “Watch your beloved mate die, Barinov!”

Madelyn realized too late what he meant to do. Dimitri dragged her to the cliff edge. She tried to dig her boots into the rocky ground, but the loose rocks simply tumbled beneath her on a hundred foot drop. With Dimitri holding her by the back of her neck, she couldn’t grab him. The second he let go, the air rushed around her she plummeted to the ground far below. The last vision she had was Grigori roaring, a jet of fire spreading across the air as he flew toward her. She knew he wouldn’t be fast enough . . .

In her final moment, she had a mere second to send him was one last image through the veil. Of them together the night he turned the rain into snow. That was when she first loved him without even realizing it.

A shallow ledge rushed up to meet her, the air vibrated around her and her skin prickled and then nothing . . .