“He’s been ordered to take a mate,” Elder Seraphina’s soft-spoken words punched Jasmine like a gust of gale force wind. She turned and studied the older woman, praying the “he” in question wasn’t the one she feared.

When sad, apologetic eyes met her gaze, Jazz gasped harshly, her knees going numb with shock. She folded her arms around her middle and squeezed in an effort to find some comfort. She felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest with a rusty spoon.

Right now all she wanted to do was flee to her special Eden and pour her misery into the bluish-green depths of solitude.

Jazz had virtually grown up under Sera’s tutelage. Her own parents died when she was just a baby, so the Elder’s had decided that since Sera’s own daughter was around the same age, she would take the infant child and raise her as her own. So to Jazz, Sera wasn’t just an Elder, she was also an adopted mother.

They both belonged to faction of Water Elementals and since Sera made her home a reclusive estate at Mayfield Falls in the Parish of Westmoreland Jamaica, it was the perfect locale for a young dragon to harness her element. The warm Caribbean water was like manna to their Faction. But not many inhabited the area. Water Elementals stayed close to their element, but surprisingly few lived near Jamaica.

Aside from the fact that all landowners in the area fought for the tourists’ attention, Sera’s estate was surrounded and guarded heavily as to deter any unwanted visitors. It wasn’t as much a compound as it was a safe haven for dragon-kind. The beautiful lush lawn ended where a small waterfall pooled into a massive collecting pond.

But not even her beautiful home could offer solace for the torment raking her insides.

Her soul mate and long, lost love had been ordered to take a mate. Since Jazz’s father had been the Crown Prince’s advisor, she and Damien had grown up side-by-side, under the same roof. It hadn’t taken long for them to fall deeply in love. They’d found a connection that most people only dreamed of. They knew they belonged to one another, forever.

Of course that fairy-tale life hadn’t lasted long. It had all fallen apart on the night of Jazz’s sixteenth birthday. Drake had insisted that the court throw Jasmine an elegant birthday celebration.

A few hours into the bash, Jazz and Damien had sneaked away for some private time and not long after, all hell broke loose. Apparently not all of the Faction supported Drake’s rule and rebels were spread throughout not only his court, but also his staff of servants.

Damien had ushered Jazz into a dark corner on the balcony overlooking the lush gardens and guarded her with his own body when the fight spilled out toward them. Drake had killed his attacker and upon hearing Jazz’s gasp of shock, turned angry eyes on them. He’d instantly ordered the guards to apprehend her.

He was convinced Jazz’s father had betrayed him and refused to have his own son swayed by the siren of such a traitor.

They hadn’t parted ways voluntarily; Damien fought fang and claw to keep Jasmine in his arms. Known for his quick temper and even deadlier fighting skills, he’d managed to hold the soldiers off a while.

But in the end, the powerful warriors managed to wrench her away. Her parents had died in the skirmish, so Sera had whisked Jazz away to her family’s personal oasis in exotic Montego Bay and she’d remained here ever since.

She hadn’t dated, hadn’t wanted to. Jazz and Damien hadn’t seen each other since that summer - well over a hundred years ago. She’d never gotten over him and knew deep in her heart that she never would. She wanted Damien and no other would do.

“I think I’ll go swimming,” Jazz murmured sadly and turned toward the path leading down to the small pond.

“Jazz, wait,” Sera called after her. “Draken’s gone now, Damien is the Prince, and it’s his choice.”

Jazz lowered her chin and squeezed her eyes tightly, forcing the tears back into the deep recesses to her soul. She couldn’t allow herself to hope. A small part of her had secretly hated Damien for his abandonment. In all these years, he’d never tried to contact her, not even after Draken had died.

Jazz had broken down and called Damien only to be told he didn’t want to talk to her. She’d never told anyone about that heart-shattering experience. Especially Sera, so even though her words were meant to comfort, they only managed to cut her even deeper.

Instead of saying anything, Jazz merely continued her way to the pool.

* * *

Damien stood at the edge of the secluded pond and watched the water bubble and ripple. From the moment he’d received the Elder’s decree, his only thought had been to get to Jazz as quickly as possible. His hands clenched at the memory of how she’d been ripped from his very grasp.

He hated himself for his inability to protect her. He wished he’d killed every one of the guards; sometimes he wished he’d even killed his own father.

He knew she’d never taken a mate of her own and had chosen to remain at Seraphina’s estate. He hoped she would forgive him for brushing her off after his father’s death. He’d been mourning deeply and feared that he’d break at the mere sound of her voice. He’d meant to contact her well before now, but his father had left the Faction in a bit of a political mess and it had taken all his time to grasp the flailing reins and bring everyone back under command.

Then the High Council had dropped their little bombshell. Damien’s first thought had been total elation. He could finally be with his soul mate - in the most official capacity - and no one would ever separate them again. Then following quickly on the heels of his glee was morbid fear that she wouldn’t have him.

Female numbers among the Four Factions were minimal at best and neither Faction knew complete details of the other. That was where the High Council of Elders came in. They didn’t necessarily govern the groups. They more or less provided mediation in certain matters that required Cross-Factional communication. That’s why their “mate” decree had rocked Dragon-kind on its heels.

He sensed her long before she stepped through the six-feet-tall elephant ear plants providing a natural protection barrier between the small pond and the rest of the lagoon.

She’d been watching her feet as she walked the small path so she stopped suddenly, her lush lips parted in complete shock when she finally looked up and saw him.

“Hi,” he said shyly. Now he understood the meaning of the word “speechless.” Of all the things he’d wanted to say to her, they’d all abandoned him when he saw her. He scolded himself for a coward and merely waited for her to respond. He just hoped she didn’t attack him.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded harshly. It wasn’t exactly the welcome he’d hoped for, but he’d take what he could get. At least she hadn’t unsheathed her talons and tried to rend his flesh from his bones.

“I was gathering my nerve,” he explained, sweeping his hand toward the clear water and pulled the liquid toward him in small tow waves. He brushed his hand back and allowed the ripples to resettle. “I was afraid to call first. After the way I refused your call, I figured you would tell me not to come,” he admitted softly and turned back to her.

She was still beautiful, even more breath-taking after all these years. She wore her auburn curls short with a colorful bandanna wrapped snugly around her head, taming the few wayward wisps. Her dark brown eyes curved upward in the most exotic, cat-like arch. She blinked thick eyelashes as she merely studied him as if he owed her one hell of an apology.

She wore a body-forming, white sleeveless tank-top, matching shorts and white canvas sneakers. The contrast of white material against her sun-tanned skin made him drool with lust. She’d developed into a woman in the time they’d spent apart and it pleased him to see that she wasn’t as skinny as most women tended to be.

Her breasts were that plump roundness every man dreamed of fondling and her hips flared wider too. Just the way he liked. She was lush and gorgeous.

The extra flesh was just icing on the cake. He never like bony women to begin with. The mere sight of them turned his stomach. He never understood why men went for skeletons.

Given the way his body reacted to the mere sight of her, he knew his adolescent feelings were real after all. They weren’t “riddled hormones of a horny boy” as his father had explained.

They were real. She was real - flesh, bone and blood. And he would have her, no matter the cost.

“You’re right,” she conceded. “You shouldn’t have come.” With that she turned on her heel and marched back through the greenery, slapping the vibrant green leaves out of her way.

“Jazz, wait!” he called and rushed after her. He lurched forward, his arm stretched and his hand curled around her bicep. He caught her before she’d gone too far. True to his memories of her sassy nature, he wasn’t shocked when she wrenched from his grasp and whirled on him, drilling her finger into his chest like a jackhammer in concrete.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she warned through gritted teeth, punctuating each word with a forceful jab at his solar plexus. “I may be one of your subjects, but I am not your slave.”

Throwing his hands up in defense, Damien took a retreating step backwards. Apparently her temper hadn’t improved either. His own rose to the challenge. His Dragon was her Alpha and his inner leader demanded that he show here - right then and there - that his word, his will and his wants were absolute. They were law as far as his subjects were concerned.

“I just want to talk,” he said softly, deciding at the last moment that treading lightly would more likely get him one step closer to his goal. He could order her and she would have no choice but to obey. But in doing that, she would never forgive him and he couldn’t - wouldn’t - take that chance. Not when he’d come so far for her.

“Will you please just come, sit and talk with me?” He gestured back to the little knoll by the pond. “We can talk like we used to?” He reigned the majority of his temper back into place. What happened between them all those years ago hadn’t been entirely his fault. It angered him that she blamed him.

She glared at him, a mixture of anger and disbelief warring for dominance in her gaze.

“Please?” he added a bit more softly even though he nearly choked on the single word. He was a Prince for Elemental’s sake, begging, much less asking was so very far beneath him. But during their separation, he’d learned that he’d crawl, naked, across broken glass for her.

“Fine,” Jazz relented and brushed past him, making sure to stomp hard on his foot as she went.

Damien winced at the small show of rebellion. This was going to be a lot harder than he’d first thought.