Ainsley woke with a start, instinctually aware that she wasn't alone. Her last memory came flooding back, and she sat up with a gasped, "Ember," in concern for her daughter.

A shadow separated from the darkness surrounding him as Dragan's voice responded in a low growl, "Brendyn is attending her."

She breathed a sigh of relief. In spite of his devil may care attitude, the majordomo had shown her nothing but kindness during her short stay at the castle. She'd been completely distraught when she'd left, but she could still hear the genuine concern in his voice as he'd asked, "Please, my lady, tell me what is distressing you so."

She had no qualms about trusting her daughter into his care.

Trusting Ember with her father was a different story.

She would never have believed that she'd fear the man she loved, but that was before she knew that he was more than a man. The knowledge that he was some sort of dragon was terrifying. Ainsley couldn't comprehend what that meant other than he had wings and possessed the ability to breathe fire.

God in heaven, that was more than she wanted to know. Because she had made love with a dragon. Given birth to his child. Images from every monster movie she'd ever seen flashed in her mind with bone-chilling clarity. Because things that go bump in the night really did exist… and one of them was right in front of her.

She watched him move silently through the shadowy room like some kind of dangerous, predatory beast on the hunt. Her heart began to hammer erratically as he prowled toward her. It was the strangest combination of fear and arousal which only served to confuse her ravaged emotions even more.

Although at the moment, she was more worried about her daughter's well being than her own, so she said, "Please don't hold it against Ember because you're angry with me, Dragan. She doesn't deserve it."

"But you do," he stated as he stopped beside the bed and stared down at her, his eyes glowing that eerie red in the darkness. His hand cupped her cheek, and she shivered at the warmth of his gentle touch. "You alone will be punished, my Ainsley."

"P… punished?" She gulped, her mouth as dry as ash, mind rampant with horrible images of the ancient torture devices she'd seen in his dungeon years ago.

"Perhaps that was the wrong choice of word," he responded as his fingertips trailed down to the wildly beating pulse in her neck. His gentle touch sending the blood sizzling through her veins with need as it always had. "After all, there was a time when you found nothing but pleasure in my bed."

The coldly delivered comment stung like a thousand cuts to her soul. Because Dragan intended to use sex as a punishment instead of the act of love that they had shared before. Forget the torture devices. This was the cruelest thing he could do, and Ainsley knew that it would break her completely.

"No," she gasped in revulsion.

"No?" He queried in a tone that had chills running down her spine as his hand fell away, leaving her bereft without his touch. "I think you will change your mind. If you want me to help our daughter."

The implication sickened her. If she didn't agree to have sex with him, he would refuse to help their child. "Dragan, please," she choked in a stricken tone.

"Yes, I'll please you, and you'll enjoy every moment of it," he vowed silkily. "You will stay with me until I no longer want you, my Ainsley. Because this time, you don't have a choice."

Dear God. He really was a monster. "Get out," she choked brokenly. "Get the hell out of my room."

"As you wish. For now," he growled ominously.

As soon as he left the room, Ainsley rolled onto her side, wrapped her arms around the pillow and burst into tears. It had been painful enough knowing that Dragan no longer loved her, but the knowledge that he must hate her was more than she could bear. Because the man she had fallen in love with would have never treated her like this.

But the man that she had loved wasn't a man. He was a hard-hearted, cold-blooded dragon. Exactly the kind of creature that her daughter was going to become. And he was right. She didn't have a choice about leaving this time. Because as long as Ember needed his help, they didn't have anywhere else to turn.

 

***

 

Dragan stood outside the door, fists clenched and head bowed as he sought to rein in his raging emotions. The sound of his mate crying was ripping him apart inside because there was nothing he could do to comfort her. He had sensed her fear, and it shredded him more than the clothes barely hanging onto his body.

Because he was the source of it.

His Ainsley was afraid of him.

Damn his wretched soul; he'd done nothing to appease that fear. His wounded pride and anger had only added to it. The knowledge that he had hurt her was unbearable. Nothing should ever cause her harm or make her cry. Yet he had done so with his intentional cruelty and foolish demands.

Ravaged with guilt and pain, he stalked down the stairs, across the great hall and out into the courtyard. For years he had been waiting for the day when his beloved mate returned. The faint hope was all that had kept him alive. And instead of claiming her heart, he had behaved like a complete fool and frightened her.

He wanted her love. Needed it to survive. For without it, without his Ainsley, there was no purpose for his being. No motivation to go on living half a life. No reason at all. The truth of it burned in his barren chest as he stepped up onto the stone balustrade and stared sightlessly into the darkness shrouding the valley below.

Like a man pushed too far beyond his endurance, Dragan stepped off the edge. His body began a freefall through the clouds before the change took over. His wings unfurled, caught an updraft and his dragon soared free for the first time in over a decade. It was a glorious feeling that both man and beast exulted in.

The mighty dragon rejoiced in the freedom. He propelled himself straight up into the night sky and dove down, down, down into the valley below. He rolled and turned, twisted and contorted his massive body, frolicking playfully through the clouds with centuries of precision and expertise at his command.

Midway through a lap around his lair, he saw his mate standing on the balcony watching the aerial acrobatics display. The look of awestruck wonder on her face gave him hope that she could lose her fear and accept him for what he was, scales and all. Hoping not to frighten her, he executed a perfect landing below her balcony.

"Dragan," her voice carried tremulously as she peered at him in the light of the moon. "Oh my God. Is it really you?"

He nodded his head in confirmation and inched cautiously closer to his mate. "I saw you fall. I thought you were going to… die," her voice broke on the last word as if even the mention of it was painful. "Then a magnificent dragon soared straight up, and I prayed it was you."

She thought he was magnificent? His dragon preened, and the man's heart thumped with joy. He had moved close enough that she reached out with a trembling hand to touch him. Dragan remained perfectly still as her fingertips lightly skimmed over the hard scales covering his face. "You're beautiful," his mate whispered reverently.

The dragon had been described as fierce, ferocious and a multitude of other frightening adjectives, yet no one had ever called him beautiful. Had anyone other than his mate dared to say such a thing, the comment would have been insulting. But the knowledge that she thought him to be beautiful pleased him greatly.

Because it meant she didn't fear him.

He pursed his lips just so and blew out a puff of smoke in a slightly misshapen heart. Ainsley laughed at the romantic gesture, and the sound warmed the cockles of his soul. Aye, the dragon would happily play the fool if it made his mate happy. Much like the man, he would do anything to make her love him.

He reached out and gingerly grasped a rose from the bush growing up the side of the wall. Using one claw, he gently sliced through the stem before offering the delicate bloom to his mate. "Thank you, Dragan," she said as she accepted the flower and lifted it to inhale its sweet scent. "The rose garden is perfect."

Considering that it had been created just for her pleasure, the knowledge that his mate liked it made him very happy. Dragan had toiled countless hours removing the old plants and replacing them with every type of white rose in existence. The sanctuary he had created for his mate had become a shrine where he worshiped her memory.

Now that she was back, he fully intended to worship her.

 

***

 

Ainsley had only allowed herself to indulge in a pity party for a few minutes before she'd slammed the door on her despair. This wasn't about her, or Dragan, or how messed up their relationship had become. She was here to get help for her daughter, and by damn that was exactly what she was going to do.

She slid off the bed, wiped the tears away and squared her shoulders for battle. She was going to march down those stairs, make sure that Ember was all right and then she was going to have a reasonable conversation with her former lover. Rounding the corner of the bed, she saw the object of her thoughts crossing the courtyard.

Walking out onto the balcony, she watched him step up onto the rock balustrade. Before she could call out to him, Dragan lifted his arms to his sides and simply fell forward off the side of the mountain. A scream of sheer terror lodged in her throat because she knew there was nothing below the cliff to break his fall.

Within a matter of seconds, he would crash into the valley thousands of feet below, crushed and broken. "No," she cried brokenly at the horrific realization, both hands gripping the stone banister in a white-knuckled grip as she sank to her knees. God, no! This could not be happening. Dragan couldn't die.

Whatever he was, she loved him too much to lose him.

Despair such as she had never known consumed her, the pain debilitating and excruciating, piercing her to the depths of her being. Then the most amazing thing happened. A dragon soared up past the balustrade and high into the night sky. A dragon that could be none other than the man she loved.

As Ainsley watched in astonished disbelief, he swooped and twirled in mid-air. He flew in loops, figure eights, and executed a barrel roll that had her laughing in delight. The massive beast might look terrifying, but he was as playful as a puppy. A very large, very dangerous puppy with wings that soared like an eagle.

By the time he landed before her in the courtyard, she had forgotten her fear of the dragon. But she'd never forget the terror that had gripped her when she thought that she had lost him. At that moment she had realized that it didn't matter what Dragan was because he would always be the man she loved.

In the blink of an eye, her entire perception had taken a drastic change, and she didn't care if he was a dragon. The man that she knew had the soul of a poet. He was gentle and kind and could never be the monster that she had imagined. He was the owner of her heart, the keeper of her soul and the father of her child.

Yes, it was shocking to know that he, and her daughter, were not entirely human, and the concept had scared the hell out of her. But now that she had seen him in his dragon form, she realized that it was nothing short of miraculous. That a man could become something so large and powerful yet still be so very gentle.

He had held the rose out to her between lethal looking claws large enough to rip her in half, but she'd had no fear of being harmed by them. And the heart-shaped puff of smoke had been absolutely charming. It was such a sweet, romantic gesture and exactly the kind of thing that the man she loved would do.

The dragon stole her heart all over again. He truly was a thing of beauty to Ainsley, even more so than the garden that he had created for her enjoyment. Because whether he was a fierce looking dragon or a ridiculously handsome man, Dragan Pyrrhus was possessed of a rare and beautiful soul.

She may not have his love, but he still had hers. Ainsley knew that she was setting herself up for heartbreak as she caressed the hard scales of his face and said softly, "I do have a choice, Dragan. It's to stay with you."

His sharp inhalation was confirmation that she had shocked him, but the flash of red in his reptilian irises looked like pure triumph. Then his eyes softened, becoming almost tender as he lifted one clawed hand. Dragan halted the movement inches from her head as if he were afraid to touch her.

She lifted her hands and grasped the massive appendage before rubbing her cheek against his palm. Just as she had always done with the man. This time his inhalation was broken and a sheen of moisture shown in his eyes. Ainsley pressed her lips against the thick leathery flesh in a kiss of acceptance for all that he was.

The tender moment was shattered by a ferociously snarled, "Get away from my mom!" Before she could react to her daughter's demand, that clawed hand had wrapped around her body, lifting her off of the balcony as if she weighed nothing. Then she was pressed against the hard scales of his chest before his wings wrapped her in a protective cocoon.

This time Ainsley did not fight to free herself from the suffocating blanket of heat. Because she knew that Dragan had just saved her from being burned alive again. She sighed in resignation. Her daughter was really going to have to learn to control her dragon before she was accidentally barbecued.