The room around me evaporated on an explosion of air in my eardrums, Dante’s words pulling the pin and detonating the charge. Now, all I could hear was buzzing, frantic flies swarming around my head and pecking at my ears. I frowned. No, that’d be birds. Way to get my analogies mixed up, but I was sure I could be forgiven in this instance, since Dante had just— “What the hell did you just say?”

Dante took a step back before recovering, smoothing his shirt with his hand and giving me a crooked smirk. “I would have thought you’d be happy with the news.”

My attention swung to the man next to him, my husband. “Did you know?” A strange pang of loss washed over me as I searched his handsome face for the truth.

“Fuck no,” he exhaled. “I don’t even have a clue what you’re talking about right now.” Owen reached for me, tugging me into his side and wrapping an arm around my shoulders, as if I was precious. Or fragile. “But I think you deserve some answers.”

I wanted to melt into his embrace, sink into his strength and wrap it all around me, let it bolster the gnawing sense of hope that had sparked inside of me at Dante’s words. I also wanted to walk away from everything, run as fast as I could, if only so I wouldn’t have to hear what I was now beginning to realize was my truth.

A truth that I hadn’t known about a life filled with lies and deceit. The foundation which had twisted me into the woman I was today.

Feeling torn, I wavered, shaking from the urges trying to rip me apart. Then Owen’s words came back to me, his declaration delivered with such furious indignation, it could only ever be the truth: I would do anything for her. Anything.

I’d given him nothing, yet he’d give me anything. Everything. A place to call home. A job. Laughter. Safety and security, enough that I’d stopped looking over my shoulder without realizing it. A family with his pack.

A man who was looking at me now like he wanted to destroy the world and feed it to me piece by piece.

Raising my hands, I ran them over his broad shoulders, roaming over his thick chest, grazing my fingertips down his muscular stomach, following the ridges down to his waistband and curling my fingers into the leather of his belt. He towered over me, his gorgeous green eyes softening as they searched my face, his large hand cupping my cheek with a reverence that had another chink in my heart sliding back into place with a soft thud.

If he could give me anything, then I could give him this…

I yanked him closer, stretching up onto my tiptoes and sought his lips with mine. His head dipped, closing the gap and sealing us together, his deep rumble vibrating through me, as if he knew this was more than just a kiss. Our mouths slid together once, then twice, air merging and mingling as I broke away. “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips, willing him to comprehend something that I didn’t yet understand myself.

His eyes searched my face, then he nodded, dropping his head to rest against mine. “Anytime, sugar. Anytime.”

A throat cleared behind Owen. “Now that you’ve had your little freak out session—or should I say make out—perhaps we could go somewhere a little quieter to discuss the revelations of this evening?”

I groaned and Owen huffed, his voice low, but still loud enough for Dante to hear, “Why does he talk like that?”

“Because he’s old.”

Owen’s shoulders shook as he chuckled, then he pulled away, a soft smile curving the corners of his mouth. “Shall we see what he has to say?”

“And then I can kick his ass?”

A snort sounded behind Owen. “I can hear you—”

“Because I wanted you to,” I tossed in his direction.

Owen stole a quick kiss. “Then we can kick his ass.”

I pouted. “You think I can’t handle him?”

“I can still hear you.” Dante was sounding a little pissed by now.

“Of course you can handle him.” I blinked at Owen as he continued with a sly wink, “But I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

I shot him a grin, my next words spilling out and bypassing the filter on my brain, “Damn. Why do you have to be so perfect?”

He arched a brow, but didn’t say a word, letting his satisfied smirk do all the talking for him as I led the way out of the bar.

* * *

There weren’t many places open this late at night, and through silent consensus we didn’t go back to the packhouse, ending up in the hotel lobby just down the street. Sipping coffees in a small, cozy alcove set to the side of the main door, strained silence hung between us. Dante looked lost in his own thoughts, his expression introspective and dark, while Owen was apparently waiting for me to kick things off.

Fine. Well, that was one thing I was good at—kicking. Especially ass.

I set my coffee cup down, licking a fleck of cappuccino foam from my lip. “Start talking.”

Dante seemed to shake himself, eventually refocusing on me. “Your mother—your real mother—was someone I once cared about a lot, but she wasn’t destined to be mine.”

Was. I swallowed hard; I’d already figured that part out, but hearing him confirm it was painful, despite having never known the woman. “What was her name?”

“Maria. And your father was named Seth.”

Another was. “How did they die?” My voice cracked and I licked my lips. Owen’s fingers closed around mine, squeezing tight in an offer of silent support.

“Another clan.” Dante scrubbed his hand over his face, sitting forward in his chair, coffee mug tilting to the side. “You know the story—”

Owen’s thigh tensed against mine. “I don’t, so why don’t you humor me and start from the beginning?”

I gave Dante a nod, indicating that that was exactly what he should do. Who knew if what I’d been told was actually the truth?

Without comment, Dante leaned back in his chair, swiping his hair off his forehead, his eyes becoming distant again, as if gathering his thoughts. Just as I was about to prompt him, he began talking, “As you know, the balance of male and female dragon shifters used to be about equal, no greater or smaller than any other shifter species. We kept to ourselves—”

“Nothing’s changed there, then,” I heard Owen mutter under his breath.

“—and avoided interaction with the world.” He stroked his chin, tension pulling his mouth tight. “A slight was made between one clan and another—whatever trivial thing it was, it has been lost to history and matters no more—because the damage had been done. We went to war with each other.”

“And the war lasted for fifty years,” I murmured. It was the same story I knew, no differences so far. It was strange to think of clans and civil wars, especially since they didn’t exist anymore, not for a long time. We were too few in number now to divide ourselves up by families, and with the whole shifters coming out to the humans thing, we were now governed by a different set of laws.

“None of the clans could gain an advantage and the losses were trivial. It seemed the war would never end, that the fighting would continue for centuries without respite.”

“How did it end?” Owen asked.

Dante chuckled, but it was a dark sound, bitter and hopeless. “God taught us a lesson in humility. A sickness swept through the dragons, a plague of some sorts, killing thousands with no apparent rhyme or reason for who was selected for death. When the dust had settled and the final numbers of those who had survived were counted, we discovered the sickness had indeed been selective.” He waited a breath, then, “It took our women from us. Men as well, but far more of our women.”

Owen seemed to be digesting the story, his eyes hooded.

“And my mother?”

“The clans weren’t at war any longer, they weren’t even a thing anymore, had been disbanded due to lack of numbers, but dragons still fought. Underhand and dirty tactics more often than not, and what they fought over should be obvious.”

“Women.”

Dante inclined his head.

“My parents—” I corrected myself—“My adoptive parents killed my real mother and father?”

“No.”

My anger deflated as if he’d stuck a pin in me. “Then, who?”

“Someone from what used to be called the Teal Clan.” He held up a hand. “That person is dead now. I killed him to avenge your parents.”

“An honorable kill,” I murmured, acknowledging his right to the kill in my stead as blood family.

He inclined his head. “One I performed with great satisfaction, especially since I thought they’d taken something that wasn’t theirs.” He pointed at me. “I searched for you, but you were like a ghost in the wind. Our species weren’t the best at communicating—too much bad blood—and, as the years passed, I gave up all hope of tracking you down.”

Sucking in a deep breath, my head swimming with all the new information as my heart bled for the parents I’d never known, I asked the one thing I had to know, “What is my real name?”

His eyes widened. “Briana, of course. You were only a baby when they took you and I assume your adoptive parents thought it best to keep it as your middle name.” He finished his coffee, setting the mug down with a soft thump. “Your family name is Bloodstone.” He stared at me, as if waiting for some big reaction.

When all I did was stare back at him, his expression fell.

“Briana Bloodstone.” The name rolled off my lips and I wanted it to feel familiar … but it didn’t.

He grunted, looking less than amused at my lack of awe and fluttery hands. “Bloodstone was one of the first three ruling clans. Together they ruled over all dragon shifters, forming a sort of government, so to speak.” He shrugged his broad shoulders, as if he hadn’t just dropped a historical bomb on me. “Your bloodline is one of the oldest and most powerful of all dragons, and you are the last living member of the Bloodstone clan.”

Huh. Well, shit. That kinda sounded like a big deal … to someone, anyway. The way he’d put it out there, like I was suddenly so much more than I’d ever been, when, truthfully, I still felt like little old me. I cleared my throat. “Three ruling clans?”

“Bloodstone, Bloodrock, and Bloodfire.” His mouth curved in a smug smile. “We are almost family. My name is Bloodfire.” Dante shot a smirk at Owen, as if trying to score a point, or something equally ridiculous with the tenuous connection.

“Actually, her name is Briana Robson.” Owen’s lips curved up in a shit-eating grin that stretched wide and flashed his teeth.

“Okay, boys, if you can stop swinging your dicks around for a second.” I sucked in another breath; I couldn’t seem to be able to get enough air in my lungs lately. “But, why did they…” I buried my face in my hands, pushing back my hair as I stared blankly at the table.

The two men stopped their little pissing contest, their attention swerving back to me. Owen was the first to speak, his glare shutting Dante down, “Why did they what, sugar?”

I tried to force the words out, but they wouldn’t come, sticking in my throat and threatening to choke me. Then why did my adoptive parents train me to be a warrior, then try to give me away?

“I think that’s enough information for today.” Strong hands guided me out of my seat, Owen’s masculine scent wrapping around me as his arm hugged my shoulders tight.

“Come see me if you have questions. Take care of her, wolf. Protect her.”

I heard Dante. I might even have answered him, but all I could think about was the parents I’d never known, and the ones I never wanted to see again.

Add to that the fact that Dante knew my real name. Okay, both of my real names. And he hadn’t done a damn thing about it. Which meant he had to know what they would do if they found me.

Was he protecting me? But, why?

And what the heck had I done to deserve this fate?