The chaos was unbearable, smoke and flames licking at the guests who flooded the stairwells, trying to break free from the death trap encasing them.

Sawyer was bumped and pushed, a mass hysteria ensuing as people ran in the wrong direction, unsure of which one was safe. She was dizzy from the fumes, and a part of her wanted to curl up in a corner and forget the din around her, but she refused to stop moving.

J.J. will never forgive you if you die here, she told herself inanely, clawing her way down the overcrowded stairwell. Again, she was shoved from behind and lost her footing, falling forward onto the group ahead of her. A swell of terrified cries erupted from the mob as they fell like dominos onto the landing.

“Get up!” she coughed, reaching to help up as many as she could. Some slapped her hands away while others reached for her gratefully. One man tried to pull her down on him as if to use her as a shield, but she fought and managed to get away, panic overwhelming her.

A garbled voice called through the intercom, someone from the FDNY instructing them to keep calm, but it was nearly impossible to hear through the devastation.

Sawyer could barely understand what had happened. One minute, she was seated beside Vander, watching the runway show in the ballroom on the second floor. Her mind was not on the high-end designs, nor on the pretentious crowd who seemed to be eyeballing her with naked disapproval.

In her own head, she was still bent over the railing of the balcony, being swept away in the feeling of Anders’ touch as he grasped her waist. She could still smell his cologne in her nostrils, a small smile toying at the corners of her mouth.

“Wipe that silly smile off your face,” Vander ordered with a slight growl in his tone. “You look like the cat that swallowed the canary.”

“Jealous?” Sawyer couldn’t resist asking, and Vander only scowled.

“Clearly, I am not Anders’ type,” he replied. “But don’t forget what you’re doing here.”

Sawyer eyed him innocently. “A few hours ago, you said I was here to have fun. I thought that’s what I was doing.”

“You’re a sassy girl, Sawyer. That’s not something I learned about you until now.”

Sawyer was sure it wasn’t meant to be a compliment, but she took it as one anyway. It didn’t matter what Vander thought of her, especially when she wasn’t sure how she felt about him. A part of her didn’t trust the man. After all, he had confessed to watching her for months, and he had gone behind her back to put a stranger in her home to watch her dog. What else was he capable of?

On the other hand, they shared a common goal, and he had whisked her away to the most amazing place she had ever been.

On a private jet. In a palace. With a prince.

Maybe she could put up with his petty envy for a little while.

“Don’t get too attached to Anders Williams,” Vander continued. “He doesn’t have time for indulgences like us mere mortals.” Sawyer felt her back tense.

“What do you mean?” she demanded. “He’s not a—”

“No!” Vander snapped. “That’s not what I meant. I mean that men like Anders will always be gods to the rest of us. If he has any dragon blood, I have yet to learn about it.”

Sawyer exhaled slowly, realizing how scared she had been to suspect that the attorney might be one of “them.”

Of course he’s not, she thought. There’s nothing cruel or murderous about Anders Williams. It’s just like Vander said; he’s a god among men.

“Did you hear what I said?” Vander insisted, poking her in the ribs with malice.

“Ow! Yes, I heard you!” she snapped. “And of course I’m not getting attached. He’s not even here anymore. I’ll probably never see him again.”

The thought gave her a twinge of sadness, but she didn’t have time to pursue it—the world went red and then black.

Sawyer wasn’t sure how she managed to scramble her way from the second floor to the stairwell among the mayhem, but she somehow fell with the crowd through the blinding smoke. Even though her movements were becoming sluggish and slow, she would not stop, knowing her only hope for survival was at the bottom of the building.

Help is coming, some logical part of her mind insisted. Keep going down and you will encounter help along the way. There was a searing pain shooting through her leg, but there was no qualia, despite the fact she had popped the ankle bone clear from its socket in her fall. Sawyer’s only focus was on moving. We were thirty-nine floors up. How much longer until we reach the ground?

A loud crash reverberated from above, and before she could turn to acknowledge what was happening, a piece of flaming debris shot down the center of the stairwell. More screams emanated through the passageway, and another surge of terrorized pushing ensued.

“Stop shoving!” she tried to shout, but her voice was lost in the din, and Sawyer knew she needed to save her strength for survival.

God, I hope Vander is all right, she thought, trying to locate the bald man in the group. It was an exercise in futility, her visibility as good as her ability to move. Are we even moving?

It didn’t feel like they were, but soon, the thickness of the soot began to ease somewhat, and she realized that they had made it through the worst of the blaze. Of course, that didn’t mean they were out of the woods yet; the ceiling could collapse any minute, bringing down the entire structure. They would not be safe until they were clear of the building completely.

Anders, Sawyer thought. Thank God he wasn’t here.

It was a random thought to have, but as she thought about it, she realized it made sense. After all, he and Vander were the only two people she knew in New York. And it was his gorgeous condo that had been torched.

She was growing unbearably tired, every movement seeming accentuated, as if she wore ankle weights around her legs. Maybe I’ll just sit for a minute, she thought, pausing.

“Keep going!” someone yelled as they edged their way past, but Sawyer found the idea impossible.

“Too tired,” she mumbled, slowly sinking to the step.

“You’re going to get trampled!” someone else yelled, grabbing her arm and pulling her up. Sawyer waved the girl off.

“Leave me alone.” Her eyes grew heavier, and she leaned her dark, matted head against the metal of the banister, feeling the coolness on her flushed cheeks. This feels nice, she thought, a bizarre happiness touching her unexpectedly.

“Sawyer, you need to keep going.” Reluctantly, she pried her lids open, recognizing the voice.

“Dad?” she babbled. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to save you,” he sighed. “You need to keep going or you’re going to die, See-Saw.”

“No one calls me See-Saw anymore,” she giggled, her eyes burning as she gazed at him. “Anyway, is death so bad?”

“It’s not your time to die,” he told her softly. “Please, baby, get up and go.”

“No. No, there’s no point, anyway.”

Her father reached out to touch her cheek, but she didn’t feel a thing, her lids sealing again, and despite Gregory Sylvester standing inches away from her, the last thing she thought of before the world went black was Anders Williams.

“Sorry the dragons got your condo,” she whispered, but she was unconscious before she finished breathing the sentence.

The light was blinding, and Sawyer swatted it away, her hand knocking something on her face. Panic welled in her, and she struggled to sit up, her eyes trying to adjust to the commotion happening around her.

“It’s all right, miss, just relax,” a soothing voice told her, gently pushing her back. “You’re in an ambulance. We’re taking you to the hospital in a few minutes.

Sawyer opened her mouth to speak, but the words were stopped by something covering her face, and she raised her hands again to remove the oxygen mask from her mouth.

“It was the dragons, wasn’t it?” she asked, still delirious. “They got it, didn’t they?”

The EMS worked smiled mirthlessly at her. “Please just stay still. We’ll be leaving shortly. Leave the mask on your face.” He jumped down from the ambulance, and Sawyer sat up again, blinking against the myriad of lights flashing around her.

Park Avenue was in rare form, a slew of emergency vehicles blocking traffic from all angles as passerby gawked at the terrible scene above. The fire was still burning, consuming half the building now as the residents lined the streets in various stage of undress.

Gingerly, Sawyer slipped off the stretcher and pulled the mask from around her head, her mind slowly clearing as she scanned the crowd for Vander. To her relief, she saw him standing near the crime scene tape, wringing his hands as he took in what was happening. She exhaled and jumped from the ambulance, hurrying toward him. She screeched in pain as her ankle refused the weight. Slowing, she hobbled toward him, careful to keep the weight off her foot.

“Thank God you’re okay,” she sighed as she approached.

Vander whirled, starting as if she had scared him. His face exploded into an expression of gratitude so great, tears filled his eyes, and he embraced her tightly.

“You’re okay!” he howled, squeezing her too hard, and she tried to protest, but he didn’t release her. “I thought you had died in there, Sawyer!”

“It’s going to take more than a little kitchen fire to stop me,” she replied grimly, turning her attention back to the conflagration when he finally released his grip. “They did this.”

“I know,” he murmured, glancing around nervously, as if he worried they were being overheard, but that was the least of Sawyer’s problem. Everyone was far too fixated on the fire to notice them or their conversation. Besides, who would believe it if they hadn’t seen it with their own eyes?

I didn’t believe it until it was too late.

“We always thought they had been picking random places to set ablaze,” Sawyer commented, merely thinking aloud. “But what if there is a reason behind the places they chose?”

“Never mind all that now,” Vander instructed. “You need to recover. We’ll talk about this later.”

Sawyer snorted. “You’re kidding, right? You dragged me all the way to New York specifically for this, and now you want me to back off?”

“I never said back off,” he replied shortly. “I said we’ll talk about it later. You won’t do anyone any good limping around and coughing up a lung. Let’s get you checked out with a paramedic.”

“I’m fine,” Sawyer said. “I don’t need a check-up.”

“There you are!” The EMS worker stormed toward her, his gray eyes flashing with annoyance. “You know, there’s enough of a shitstorm happening around here without me having to chase you down. Get back on the gurney. We’re leaving for the hospital now.”

“But I’m—”

“You heard the man,” Vander insisted, yanking her arm toward the ambulance. “You need to go to the hospital and get checked out.”

“We’re wasting valuable time here!” she snapped. “You want there to be another fire when we could have done something about it?”

“I want you to be on your best game,” Vander said. “I don’t want to have to worry about taking care of you when you pass out.” Sawyer eyed him balefully, but she allowed herself to be led into the vehicle. “I need to check on Amelia,” he told her before the ambulance doors closed. “But I’ll come to the hospital right after.”

She nodded slowly. “You don’t have to worry about me,” she promised.

“And you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” he replied gruffly. “I promised that nothing would happen to you, and…” He couldn’t finish his thought, but Sawyer snickered.

“I’m more sure now that I want to find these bastards than I was six hours ago,” she assured him.

After all, the dragons had just burned down Anders’ home, his beautiful penthouse where he had lived for as long as he could remember.

Oh, I’m coming for you, dragon bastards. You just made it personal; again.