The glow of fire in the night, the thick smoke suffusing the air, the taste of ash on his tongue. The sight that greeted Arawn when he banked over Mount Hood was one of a natural disaster of primeval magnitude.

The top of the mountain was blown off, collapsed much like the peak of Mount St. Helens decades earlier. Lava had shot up in the explosion and now rained down the slopes, still glowing orange-red and working its way toward the base of the mountain. A massive plume of dark smoke rose up from a gaping hole revealing the fiery depths of the volcano.

And out of those fiery depths…crawled a beast of such ferocity and sheer destructiveness, the magic of the world hushed at its approach. It had been eons since Arawn last saw one of its kind, and now even his power stilled in admiration when he beheld the dragon.

Dark red scales covered its giant body as it crept over the ash-covered mountainside, its folded wings attached to the front legs, which ended in mighty talons. A long tail whipped behind it, and along its back rose a row of spikes. Smaller spikes studded its head above its yellow-glowing eyes and massive jaw, and two large horns protruded from the top of its head.

It was magnificent.

And it would be his.

He veered toward the beast, landed on the mountain slope between the lava flows in a safe distance from the dragon, and changed to his human form. The beast’s attention snagged on him, and it let out a mighty roar that shook the ground.

Arawn sent out his power, to whisper and to snare. The dragon flared its wings, bared its huge teeth.

Obey my command, his magic sang, twining around the beast. Follow my lead.

The beast roared again, clawed at the ground with sharp-gleaming talons.

His power cajoled and seduced—and bounced off a barrier of age-old magic. Another god’s claim, blocking Arawn’s attempts to snare the dragon. Someone had beaten him to it.

“Velez,” Arawn ground out, balling his hands to fists.

“The very one.”

Whirling around, Arawn met the storm-gray eyes of his brother. Standing on the other side of a river of lava, Velez took a bow and made a courtly gesture.

“Quite curious,” Velez said, “that you did not sense the dragon rousing in the mountain when we spoke here.” He shrugged and clucked his tongue. “Of course, that might have been because I concealed it.” A cold smile.

“You roused it?”

Velez tilted his head. “I helped its awakening along just a tad.”

Arawn’s mind whirred in high gear, going through the catastrophic implications of this new development. Velez in control of a dragon…would cause death and destruction of genocidal dimensions.

“You should have taken me up on my offer,” Velez said, his eyes flashing. “Now I am afraid I need to take what is yours.”

His smile razor-sharp, Velez vanished on a bolt of lightning.

Arawn’s heart stopped cold. The slithering suspicion of what—who—Velez was talking about froze his soul. No.

He turned into his eagle again, shot up and headed for his dominion.

Or rather, that was what he wanted to do—before the giant dragon slammed into him, clawed him from the sky.

* * *

Lucía lasted all of one minute after Arawn strolled into the woods before she pounced on Maeve.

“Ohmygods,” the demon-shifter breathed, her pale green eyes sparkling. “Are you really with him now? How did that happen—no details, please! Did he actually take you to his super-secret hidey-hole? Are you aware that by putting you in his clothes he’s basically tacked a giant ‘property of Arawn’ sign on you? And that I’ve never seen the look on his face I saw just now when he looked at you?”

“Um.” Which was about all Maeve could say in response. Her face burned up to her ears, and she resisted the urge to hide behind her hair again. “I’m really hungry,” she said after a moment, rubbing her nose. “Let’s go eat.”

Lucía’s chuckle was downright dirty. “Burned a lot of calories, hm?”

Maeve pressed her lips together to keep from grinning. “Quit it.”

“All that bed sport…gotta keep up your strength.” She waggled her brows.

“Lucía.”

“Did you catch any sleep at all?”

Maeve made as if to give her a smack on the back of her head, but Lucía flowed out of the way with feline grace.

Laughing, she bumped Maeve’s shoulder. “Messing with you is so much fun. But seriously, I’m happy for you. Both of you.”

“Kelior,” Maeve said after accepting Lucía’s hug, “would you like something to eat, too?”

The fae shifted his weight, his face pale and glistening with perspiration. “No thank you.”

Maeve frowned. “Are you all right? You look a little sick.”

Kelior opened his mouth, but before he could reply, a boom shook the earth.

“Get down!” Lucía shouted.

Maeve went into a crouch, Lucía at her side, sniffing the air. Kelior was on his knees, too, glancing around.

A surge of ancient magic hit them like the shock wave of a bomb, and Maeve stumbled over, into Lucía. The woods hushed, the night eerily quiet.

“What was that?” Maeve whispered—though a niggling feeling deep inside her knew.

Lucía scanned the sky with narrowed eyes, scented the air. “I have no idea. Gut feeling? This is something super nasty. It feels a bit like…”

“When the griffin found me,” Maeve concluded.

Lucía whipped her head to her. “Don’t tell me there’s another one coming.”

Maeve bit her lip. “Well…”

“Shit.” She exhaled through her nose. “Okay. Let’s get you underground. It’ll be safer.” Snapping her fingers at Kelior, she added, “You, too.”

Kelior threw a nervous glance at the sky again, a bead of sweat now trickling down his right temple. “Sure.”

They ran through the woods toward the nearest entrance to the subterranean lair, the entire forest around them unnaturally silent. No fireflies left, as if they all fled, not even will-o’-the-wisps floating between the trees. Only looming shadows…and the distant roll of thunder.

Up ahead, an old oak tree with access to the underground system beckoned. Almost…there.

The sky lit up, lightning striking down, splitting the tree. Part of the charge hit Lucía, who ran in front of Maeve. The demon-shifter flew back against a tree, and the sickening sound of snapped bones turned Maeve’s stomach.

“Lucía!”

She wanted to make a dash for her friend when someone grabbed her from behind. Her mind blanked, horror icing her muscles.

His hands on her body, holding her down, squeezing so hard it hurt…

“I’m sorry,” Kelior rasped in her ear.

She barely registered those sensations, her thoughts hijacked by the terror of her memories.

Another strike of lightning jolted her halfway back into the present, and she blinked at the silhouette of a man emerging from the shadows. Tall, dark-haired, elegantly dressed despite the distinct vibe of a being from the time before fashion was even a thought, he looked nothing like Arawn…and yet she knew.

“Velez,” she whispered. The sheer volume of power pouring off him with an electric buzz was unmistakable.

His smile chilled her blood. Angling his head at Kelior, he said, “Thank you for holding her for me. I will take her now.”

Power grabbed her, immobilizing her limbs and pressing down on her lungs. With a flick of his hand, Velez pulled her to him as easily as a magnet attracts a piece of scrap metal.

Or a prized coin, judging by the gleam in his eyes.

“W-what about me?” Kelior asked. “You promised you’d break the deal for me and send me back to Faerie.”

“Oh.” A sigh. “You must have heard wrong. I said I was going to send you back home.”

Velez winked, and a lightning bolt shot down on Kelior, incinerating him on the spot. Maeve jerked—or would have, had her limbs not been paralyzed.

“And now,” Velez purred, “let’s play.”

He grasped her arm, and she was sucked into whipping wind and lightning as the world around her vanished.