Hi, guys, this is Nicole.

I’m starting this YouTube channel because a month ago my family blew up, my house burned down, I lost my job, and I realized I have no friends.

I kind of spent so much time trying to hold everyone else’s lives together that I forgot to focus on my own.

Ha ha.

Anyway, I’m in therapy again, going twice a week, and it’s really helpful. I’m subbing in the coffee shop I worked at in college, even though I don’t know anybody anymore, not even the manager. It’s just a temporary job, until…

(blows air)

I have to figure out what I want. And the problem is that I don’t trust myself to know what I want, to even identify what I want, because…

Well, because I don’t trust myself.

Back when I had a family, I got told all the time that I was making things up, or feeling hurt for no reason, or my memory was wrong. So I’m posting a video on the Internet where I’m absolutely sure nobody will ever say hurtful things or call me wrong again. Ha ha ha.

(tucks lock of dark hair behind ear)

Yeah, I can’t figure out what I want. I still have to figure out who I am.

Maybe I’m not the only one?

That’s what I was thinking…

Oh, and the absolute last thing I want is to put myself in a position where I’m told, ‘You’re crazy, Nicole, that never happened.’ Like, I would kill myself if I just had to swallow that toxic waste down again. So I’m documenting my life 24/7, like the Nicole Truman show, minus the conspiracy and whatnot. So you can see I’m not making it up.

Why would you think I’m making anything up? “UNEMPLOYED GRAD TURNS BARISTA” isn’t exactly world news.

Well, yesterday, in the shop, I served a dragon. Alex.

That’s not the weird part. He comes in all the time since my brother Darcy’s wedding to his sister Amber a couple of weeks ago.

My brother has an exciting life. Ha ha.

Anyway, Alex asked me for a venti caramel macchiato with extra whip.

I told him to get real. This wasn’t a Starbucks.

We laughed, because he does this every day. We’re both dorks. Except he’s the good-looking one.

So then he asked me for my help.

And then it got really weird.

* * *

Nicole checked her first video post.

Twenty views. Zero comments.

She shouldered her messenger bag, patted the long-haired wiener dog dancing next to the door, handed him his daily Milk-Bone, and squeezed out of the neat town house where she was house-sitting. While she descended the stairs to the street, she replied to her sister Jackie’s text that had been sent a couple of hours ago from New York. My video career hasn’t taken off yet. Don’t bother to make graphics.

A second later, she received this reply. Influencers start at zero. Tara says the graphics are in your email.

Nicole rolled her eyes to disguise the very real warm feeling squeezing her heart. The only thing I influence is my boss’s internet speed.

Jackie replied with a laugh-crying emoji.

Nicole picked up the red scooter where it had been abandoned on the sidewalk, centered her phone camera over the barcode between the handlebars, and paid for the rental via the transit app. She hopped on and scooted down the city hill, across the Morrison Bridge, to the boutique shopping district around Hawthorne.

Portland at five in the morning on a weekday was quiet, and this was the only time that it smelled vaguely like the ocean, even though they were close enough to do Tillamook in a day trip. Mount Hood loomed in the east. The sky was just beginning to lighten when she stopped in front of the Fresh Beans coffee shop, ended her trip in the app, and stowed the scooter next to a throng of similarly abandoned rentals.

It was funny how she used to have to walk or take mass transit everywhere. Then, one day, the scooters popped up, and life was totally different.

Like how only two months ago, Nicole’s siblings had all lived at home and worked the family lingerie business. In one single weekend, her parents split and left forever, their house burned down, the lingerie business was sold, her brother got married, and her sisters moved to opposite coasts.

Things changed in an instant.

Take how everyone always thought Earth was alone in the universe, and then one day five years ago, dragon aliens had landed, and life was totally…

Well, not different, exactly. The dragon shifters stuck to themselves. Only a couple of hundred lived on Earth, and so even though one dragon family had a clothing export office just over the river in Vancouver, she hadn’t met a dragon face-to-face until her brother Darcy’s wedding to dragon-shifter Amber.

No, dragons hadn’t affected her life that much at all.

Nicole fitted her key in the lock of the small shop just as the bling-bling of the bread delivery bicycle sounded. She waved and put her shoulder to the stuck bakery door. “Hey, Pike.”

“Morning.” The massive, bearded mid-fifties man grabbed a big paper bag from the small trailer and followed her in. “How’s the job search?”

“Awful.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It would be a lot easier if I knew what I wanted to do.”

Nicole navigated the dim café, set her messenger bag on the rarely used chair behind the glass counter, and tied on her apron. She lifted her black hair into a bun and flipped on the espresso machines.

“Hey, Pike. How’s going back to culinary school and starting your own business?”

“At fifty? Awful.” He crouched beside her, snapped on gloves, and stocked trays of buttery croissants, cream-swirled doughnuts, crisp biscotti, and succulent sweet breads. “If I didn’t have sciatica, I’d go back to truck driving.”

“That bad, huh?”

“It’s not the baking.” He balanced a stack of delicate rose-honey macarons on a silver tray. “It’s the number of coffee places—carts, mostly—that don’t want to pay me for the job. They say the product didn’t sell. Great, where’s the product? Oh, it disappeared. Uh-huh, then pay me. No, no, we didn’t sell it, so we don’t owe you.” He lifted a pecan turnover and addressed an imaginary foe. “Yes, Melissa, you do owe me for the apple tarts you stuffed in your own mouth. If you don’t like it, you don’t get any more.”

“Right on.”

He sighed. “I wish. If I cut off everybody who’s done this to me, I’d never pay rent.”

Nicole washed and dried her hands. “People suck.”

“You got that right.”

She set out her equipment, weighed her beans on the scale, tossed them in the grinder, and pulled her first shot.

A little too fast, and a tiny bit sour.

Maybe.

At home, she’d drink it without complaining, but Fresh Beans was a professional coffee shop and customers paid artisanal prices for the delivery of artisanal coffee. She twisted the dial a micrometer and ran more beans through.

Not fine enough.

She ran the test a third time, and even before she tasted it, she could tell from the richness of the crema and the instinct of her experience that the third time was the charm. Nicole dipped in a fresh spoon for her taste—perfect—and used the rest of the shot in a no-foam soy latte for Pike.

He accepted the to-go cup. “Hey, you’re a pal. Take something.”

“I don’t want to be a Melissa.”

“You’re not, right? You share your product, I share my product.”

“I shared my boss’s product. I’m not the owner.”

“Neither’s Melissa.”

“Report her.”

“She’s the owner’s daughter.”

Nicole made the oof sound. “Family businesses are a one-way ticket to lifetime therapy.”

“You know it.” He nudged a chocolate-filled puff pastry in her direction. “Nutella and dark chocolate. Baked fresh this morning.”

“Okay, you got me.” She squeezed the fluffy puff and took a bite. The first taste exploded sweet pleasure in her mouth. “This is a keeper. Oh, wow. It’s orgasmic.”

He chuckled. “I’m going to put that on my business cards.”

“Do it.” Her eyes about rolled back in her head. “Everything you make is so delicious. I’m glad you’re not truck driving.”

“You’re one of the good ones, Nicole.” Pike flattened his bag and headed out the door. His bike bling-blinged as he rode off to the next delivery, Portland-style. At least in August, there were a few days without rain.

She finished the puff, washed her hands again, and then ground the beans, started the drip, filled the condiment carafes, and stocked the silverware cases.

Her messenger bag vibrated. Inside, her brother’s voice called out, muffled, “Nicole? Nicole!”

She raced over and rummaged for the source. Her fingers closed over a vibrating triangle the size of an eraser. She pulled it out. “Darcy? Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, it sounds like you’re in the room with me.”

“It sounded like you were inside my messenger bag.”

“That would be a trick.” Darcy laughed. At six feet, he had to duck through low doorways. “Want to see another trick? Put the eraser thing on the counter and press the button on top.”

She did as he said. A virtual blank screen projected above it, just below the coffeehouse painting that declared, “With enough coffee, I could rule the world!” Darcy’s cheerful, familiar face glittered in the center and then solidified as if it were a real screen.

“Very Star Wars.” She passed her fingers through, and the screen disappeared. “Oops, I killed you.”

“Press the button again.”

She did, and the screen returned. “Cool.”

“Did you get the sticky necklace it snaps into? When you turn it into record-only mode, Amber thought you could wear it more easily than your phone when you’re moving. And the recordings can be converted to a human movie file, but Amber says that’s a lot harder to edit.”

Nicole checked on the drip coffee. “It’s great to have a big brother with amazing dragon technology.”

“You want to hear the craziest thing?” He scratched behind his ear. “They put in that universal language implant the moment I left Earth, right? It turns out someone exported Latin American telenovelas, and so I’ve been catching up on a whole genre of TV I never thought I’d see, much less enjoy.”

“You’re enjoying it?”

“It’s no Bollywood, but it’s pretty good, actually. Keeps my mind off the fact we can’t leave.”

Right. She made casual conversation while she finished the daily setup for the café. “Still stuck on Amber’s alien estate?”

“Until a new dragon Empress is declared. Apparently, they decide by a bare-knuckle battle royale. Three heirs have already died.”

“Ay, caramba.”

He stared at her.

She didn’t mean to be flippant, but the succession problems of the Dragon Empire happening forever far away from Earth had as much to do with her life as the mating dance of caterpillars in Zimbabwe.

If Darcy and Amber hadn’t happened to honeymoon at Amber’s mom’s home on the Outer Rim, like, a week before the old Empress had entered her death sleep—whatever that meant—and gotten stuck there when everything shut down, it would be no more than a sentence during the nightly news—which Nicole never watched.

“You guys are going to be okay?” Nicole queried in his continued silence. “You’re not in any trouble, right?”

“Trouble? Oh, no. Mother Onyx is…” He shook his head. “She’s, uh, something else. And Amber’s no slouch in the dragon intimidation department. Plus, we’re just a medium-sized estate on what was formerly the hinterlands of the Empire.”

“If you’re in the hinterlands, what does that make Earth?”

“Siberia,” he replied. “Outer Mongolia. Second star to the right and straight on till morning.”

She laughed.

“That’s why Earth got left alone for so long. Nobody wants to live in the Outer Rim, much less beyond it. The only dragons fighting over this estate are politicians doing it for a line on a piece of paper somewhere that says they increased their family holdings by x number of properties. So don’t worry, okay?”

“Sure. You got quiet, and you don’t do conflict, so…”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s these implants. I think you didn’t say this, but I heard you say, ‘Wow.’ And it was even in your own tone of voice.”

“Ha ha, you’re right. I said Bart Simpson’s favorite Spanish phrase.”

“Ay, caramba!” The r’s rolled off Darcy’s tongue in a natural way, as if he’d just completed an immersion program. “What’s amazing is that I can produce Spanish when I’m talking to someone else. Or Portuguese. Or dragon.”

“Dragon? What’s that sound like?”

“I don’t know, because it just comes out. It’s spooky.”

“That would be so handy. You could travel the world, speak any language, and communicate with anyone.”

“You should get one and become a translator.”

“If I got one, then job security is out the window because dragon technology is getting shared down to us lesser mortals, aka humans.”

He blinked and then frowned. “Uh, don’t tell anyone about the projector, okay?”

“No problem.” She smirked as she pulled chairs down and slid them under the round tables of the café. “Who would I tell?”

Her brother’s worried brows pulled down.

Aw. Her heart warmed. Darcy worried about her. That was the real reason he was calling. “I should let you get back to your honeymoon.”

“Amber’s on patrol. Hey, Nicole, I’ve got to ask you—”

“Hello?” The front door handle rattled and the door pushed in, and a backpack-lugging student poked her head through. “Hey, are you open?”

Nicole planted her black combat boots and pointed at the wall clock shaped like a cat. “We open in fifteen.”

“The door’s open.” The student shoved the rest of the way in and beelined for the register. “I want a regular nonfat mocha with extra whip.”

“Then you’ll have to come back in fifteen minutes.” Nicole walked to the door and barricaded it from the three people converging on her.

“But I’m already inside.”

“Which means I can’t finish until you’re outside.”

The student stared at her.

Nicole stared back.

Her heart used to thump. Conflict used to make her sweat. She used to um and aw and hiccup if she had to contradict someone, and the stress was so much, she cried every night.

But that was old Nicole.

Before several years of therapy, several kick-butt therapists, and, well, before everything burned out.

She was new Nicole.

And it had been a long time since she’d stuttered when she had to deal with strangers or customers.

The student sensed that argument was futile. She rolled her eyes, exhaled with gusto, and stomped out the door. “I’m never coming back here!” She slammed the door behind her. The bell crashed against the door hard enough to make a dangerous crack.

Nicole checked for damage.

Darcy gave his usual nervous laugh. “Making friends, huh, Nicole?”

“You’ve got to set boundaries, or people will walk all over you.” She turned the dead bolt, something she’d meant to do after Pike left to avoid exactly this scenario. “The first time you serve somebody fifteen minutes early, there’s suddenly a line out the door, you get behind before you’re even open, and the original person leaves a nasty review because they’re an entitled jerk who will never be satisfied.”

“Makes sense. I, uh, better let you finish getting ready.”

“I’m ready.” She sat behind the counter, propped her feet on the stool, and poured herself a small, relaxing cup of drip coffee. “But you can go.”

He glanced at his watch and yawned again. “Are you sure? Oh, hey, how was your first video?”

“About as successful as the rest my life right now.”

He smiled hopefully. “You’ve always followed your truth, Nicole, which means that this is the start of a great new era.”

Happiness at her brother’s goofy, sweet, always-look-on-the-good-side optimism warred with embarrassment, and embarrassment won. “Uh, at twenty views, I wouldn’t say it’s started, exactly.”

“Sometimes, it takes a little time for the rest of us to catch up.” His smile faded, and worry wrinkled his eyes. “I meant to tell you before, but…Mom woke up a couple days ago.”

The coffee soured in her stomach.

He kept talking. “Sometime, if you’re up to it, if you want to talk with—”

“Oh, it’s opening time.” Nicole jumped off the chair and hovered her finger over the button. “Got to go.”

Darcy waved cheerfully. “Have a great day! Talk to you tomorrow.”

“Right, bye!” She ended their two-way broadcast, clicked the dial next to it to set the mode to passive recording, and stuck it to the wall behind her to record her in the café. She checked that her ‘Smile! This Café Is On YouTube!’ sign was still taped to the cash register and the second sign was posted in the window.

The student who was never coming back here was first in line outside.

Nicole turned the dead bolt and stepped to the side for the crowd to hustle past her to the counter. The line looked around for someone to help them get their coffee fix. Nicole ambled at a safe pace—she wasn’t sprinting unless someone was in danger—and then logged in to the register.

“Um, can I order?” the student demanded.

Nicole did not comment on the short length of never and made her what ended up being a completely different drink from her first order. As Nicole had expected, the student didn’t tip.

She got into the rhythm of the morning.

Fresh Beans was located in a heavy student area, so most of their sales were simple lattes and such until midmorning, when the freelancers and entrepreneurs set up their remote offices. They liked fine coffee and long conversation, and she didn’t mind. Baristas were like bartenders, except that they worked mornings before people had their coffee, and they didn’t get paid as well.

At the one o’clock lull, her relief arrived.

And so did he.

Alexandrite Onyx.

She knew before she saw him. A ripple of shock and a heightened murmur electrified the café. So, even though she was bent over getting a half-soy, half-nonfat, extra-hot mocha with two ice cubes, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up and everything tightened.

Nicole stood, oriented on the pickup counter, and tried to hand it off. “Your drink.”

“Hmm?” The woman, a shaved-head new punk with colorful tattoos, shredded jeans, and callouses from playing bass, couldn’t tear her eyes away from Alex waiting at the order counter. “Sorry, what?”

“Your iced, hot-soy, nonfat mocha is ready.”

“Oh! Thanks, hon.” The bassist, who was younger than Nicole but spoke with a from-somewhere-in-the-South twang, collected her in-house mug. “I was struck by an apparition. Is he, by any chance…?”

“A dragon? Yes.”

“Oh.” Her lips pursued, and she studied him again. “I was going to say Justin Bieber.”

Huh.

Then Nicole did the fateful turn and braced herself.

But nothing really prepared her for the breathtaking first sight.

The dragons were beautiful, all of them, in a zero-fat, I-could-be-a-male-model-or-an-Olympic-athlete-or-both way, but Alex took it a level up. His jaw was chiseled from stone, his cheeks were hollow, and his bones were sharp enough to cut glass. Designer shades hid his eyes. He was dressed in a tailored gray suit that must cost more than their entire café, polished black loafers, and his blond hair fell perfectly from the straight three-quarter part. Small lavender cuff links glinted at his wrists.

He had a way of looking at people like he could see secrets under their skin, and had a coldness in his smile that extended to his heart too.

Hot, manipulative, and emotionally unavailable? The trifecta. Of course he made Nicole’s insides quiver.

Even standing still with one hand splayed casually on the counter, he commanded attention. “Nicole. I need you.”

The gorgeous softness of his voice, like velvet and chocolate, caressed her ears and made the customers listening in swoon.

She swallowed. “Ha ha. I told you at Darcy’s wedding that lines don’t work on me.”

Until Alex, anyway.

“Too bad.” Alex’s lips tugged into a heart-stopping smile. “Think of the fun we could have.”

“I’m thinking. I’m thinking…”

“But right now, I need you…to take your money back from this.”

This meaning the guy next to Alex, hunching his shoulders and on tiptoes because Alex’s other hand clenched his throat.

Shock jolted Nicole out of her trance. “Hey! What are you doing?”

“He stole from your tip jar,” Alex said, as if that were a perfectly normal excuse to throttle a stranger in public.

“Stole? Where?”

The man tried to shake his head and choked.

Alex lifted him effortlessly, one-handed, to show a five-dollar bill folded in his fingers.

“Oh, there’s a special room in hell for people like you.” She snatched the bill.

“It’s…mine…” he hissed.

She studied the five. It was definitely her tip. The bassist had drawn her band’s symbol across Lincoln’s forehead, as she always did. Nicole went through the jar every shift after her visits and had saved several, even though this was no time for saving sentimental items, especially when they were liquid cash.

The man dangled helplessly. His face was a normal color, so Alex was using his special ability to lift the man, but he gripped with authority.

Delicious, mesmerizing authority.

She flattened the bill on the counter and flicked her fingers at Alex. “Okay, put the thief down.”

After a slight hesitation, Alex obeyed.

The man rested on his loafers and rubbed his neck. “It’s mine. I got it out of my wallet.”

Alex tsked. “You don’t have a wallet.”

“How would you know?” The man rested his shaking palms on the counter. He was a reasonably well-dressed businessman with a pretty fancy watch, a gold pin, and a new business case. It took him a minute, but he soon regained his authoritative snap. “Give me the brown sugar latte with extra foam. And I expect it to be free! You owe me for the injury I suffered at your establishment.”

Alex’s lips curled back from his teeth. His velvety voice lowered. “You want to be injured?”

“You. Barista. Call the cops and give me a drink, now! I’ll sue.”

“Go ahead and sue.” She leaned her hip against the counter. “You know this whole establishment is under surveillance.”

“What?” He paled and stepped back. “I didn’t consent to a recording.”

“You consented when you walked past the sign on the door.”

“No, I… For how long?”

“Days, weeks, however long you’ve been stealing from the tip jar.”

“How dare you?”

“How dare I what?” She tilted her head. “Back up to the footage of just a few minutes ago? And see you try to pass off the most identifiable punk metal Lincoln in Portland?”

“Punk metal?” The bassist perked up and hurried over to look at the artistically defaced bill. “Oh, honey. I just put that in there.”

“Thanks. I appreciate you. I mean it.”

“Aw, I appreciate you. You work so hard. But we’re not actually a punk metal band. We’re—”

“It’s not what you think.” The man straightened his suit. “I was just getting change.”

Alex’s fingers flexed. “You didn’t put anything back.”

“I don’t have to answer to you. I’ll call the police!”

“No need.” Alex growled low and sounded like an entire pack of wolves had entered the coffee shop and found a target to be ripped to shreds.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up again, but this was not from excitement. It was legitimate fear.

The man finally shrank away from Alex, realizing he was a full predator. “We can resolve this right—”

“Calling the police is a great idea.” Nicole slapped both palms on the counter to break them up. “Alex, you go stand by the croissants. You, sir, step back from the tip jar. Would you like to call the police, or should I?”

Alex moved reluctantly to the other side of the register where she’d indicated. He glared at the man with what could only be described as seething rage.

The man straightened his collar and cleared his throat. “I will call them. And you will prepare an apology for my mistreatment. Brown sugar latte, extra shot.”

Alex’s shoulders rose. For some reason, every time the man opened his mouth, Alex’s rage rose.

Sure, the man was a thief and a jerk, but there was no reason for Alex to act like the man personally insulted or wronged him.

“Okay, so nobody’s getting any coffee until the police get here.” Nicole tapped her index finger on the counter to make her point. “First, I make change from the register, not the tip jar. Second, we’re going to watch the video together. Me, you, Alex, and the police. And you better believe I’m pressing charges for theft.”

“For five dollars! Who cares about five dollars?”

“Apparently, you do. Especially if we rewind to your earlier visits. Will we find out you’ve been ‘making change’ before today?”

He twisted his lips.

So, probably.

She nodded at the businessman. “Go ahead. Call the police.”

“Perhaps…it’s not necessary…”

“Uh-huh. Okay, great. Get out of my store, and never come back.”

He huffed. “You can’t kick me out!”

“True.” She turned to the barista who’d come in to relieve her, who, like the rest of the customers, gaped at the exchange. “Brian, call the police.”

Her half-Korean coworker Brian gulped, rubbed his full-sleeve tattooed arms, and fumbled in his pocket for his cell phone.

“Wait! Wait, wait.” The businessman’s whole demeanor changed to desperate pleading. “I’m sorry. Please. Okay? I’m going through a hard time right now, and I can’t afford to buy my coffee. I need it in order to ace the presentation and get back on my feet again. Please.”

Alex puffed up with anger.

But she cut him off. “Let me get this straight. You stole from me, lied about it, and you still want a free coffee?”

“Well, I can’t drink the crap they have at work.” He straightened his tie. “It’s drip. From the supermarket!”

She rolled her eyes. “Get out.”

The man looked like he was going to protest again.

Brian pointed at his phone. “You want me to call the police?”

“Sure.”

The man stormed for the door. “I’m going to write a bad review! I’m a regular.”

“Who regularly steals from the tip jar,” she snapped.

“I’m calling the owner about you!” He lingered in the doorway. “Some cafés would pay me to drink their coffee for free!”

He departed. There was a long silence.

Brian lowered the phone. “Are you going to get in trouble?”

“I doubt it. If we’re going to pay someone to drink our coffee every day, they better have two million followers on Instagram.”

Brian snorted and then went to serve a customer who’d come up for a refill.

Nicole turned on Alex.

He was older, richer, and she’d thought a lot smarter than her, but the last few minutes had given her a doubt. “And you. What the heck is wrong with you?”

His perfect chin jutted. “I stopped a crime.”

“By committing one that was worse. You can’t put your hands on someone because they take five dollars. He could very well sue you for assault, and you would deserve it.”

Alex regarded her for a long moment and then lowered his shades to display his startlingly unique lavender-and-teal eyes.

Today, the right eye was mostly lavender with a hint of teal at the top, and the left eye was mostly teal with a hint of lavender at the bottom, but depending on which way he turned and the way the light shone, they’d switch. It seemed unique even by dragon standards. At her brother’s wedding, they’d had eight or nine dragons attending, and their eyes had all been beautiful gemstones, but only Alex’s had changed.

His gaze narrowed. “How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“You are berating me, like you berated the thief, and yet I don’t feel angry.”

“That’s because you know I’m right.”

His lips twisted. “No. Definitely not.”

“Well, I am right. One crime doesn’t deserve another.”

“You humans have such a strange idea of morality.”

Her heart beat in her throat, but luckily that got plenty of blood up to her head for talking. “Taking someone outside and beating them isn’t justice.”

“It’s more efficient.”

“Might doesn’t make right, Alex.”

“Only a weak, genetically backward nonshifter would say such a thing.”

She snorted. “Yeah, well, I fit that description. You didn’t come here to bust a tip-jar thief. What do you really want?”

He held her gaze for a long moment. The slightest frown creased between his brows and then was gone like the ripple of sand on an ocean. “Triple shot Americano.”

“Ah, no.”

The colors of his gaze intensified. “No?”

“Your hands are shaking. How many shots have you had today?”

He looked up to the side to calculate. His fingers touched more than ten times. “Perhaps…seven?”

“No wonder you’re so short-tempered. The only thing I’ll make for you is an herbal tea. Soothing Chamomile or Sleepy Time. You decide.”

The frown crossed his brow once more. Somewhere between confusion, bemusement, and indecision.

“What?” she asked.

“I can’t decide.”

“Oh, well, I recommend—”

“No, it’s not about the beverage.” He shook his head as though to clear it. “I need you to come with me.”

There was no world in which that statement made sense. “Go with you? Where?”

“My older brother is having marital difficulties, and—”

“Which one?” Seeing as he had like five.

“Jasper.”

Nicole tried to picture Jasper. She’d met him at the wedding. He’d been…brown…maybe…

“A specific type of coffee will save him. We’ve paid a significant amount to a coffee roaster to expand her operations.” Alex pulled two small brown sandwich-size envelopes out of his suit jacket and handed her one. “Here’s the coffee we want.”

“You dragons sure do care about your coffee.” Nicole opened the envelope. A funny streets-at-night-after-rain smell hit her nose, and the uneven-colored beans looked bizarre. “Is this drinkable?”

“Dragons find it addictive. Taste it.”

There was just enough to pull a shot. She cleared out the decaf grinder, ran it through, and pulled the shot. The crema was thin and oily, the shot was simultaneously sour and bitter, and it gritted against her palate like burned bricks.

“Ugh. You want more of this?”

“A lot more. It has a unique Portland flavor.”

“Yeah, I’ll give you that. Hey, Brian! Try this.”

The tattooed barista sipped the shot and choked. “What the—? Nicole!”

“Ha ha!” She dumped the rest of the shot, because honestly, Alex did not need any more coffee even if he was a dragon. “So what’s the problem?”

“The roaster insists this is the same blend.” He opened the second envelope.

There weren’t even beans in the bag, just chunks and shards, charcoal and ash. “Whoa.”

“It’s not the same. You can put it into a shot and test for yourself. It does not have the same taste.”

“No need. I believe you.” She tilted the envelope in the light. “So you want me to call her out? Honestly, this doesn’t take a barista. Anyone with eyes could tell you these two blends are not alike.”

“She does not admit the truth.”

“Sounds like you need to lawyer up.”

“I don’t have time to take the inefficient route.”

She closed the envelope and handed it back. “So, what? I’m not going to stand by and watch you take someone outside and beat them.”

“Yes, exactly.” He leaned forward, into her space, and the softest wisp of musk tickled her nose. “I need you to show me a third way. Speak like you did to the thief you confronted. He admitted the truth so easily.”

“I had him cornered in my workplace on camera and with witnesses.”

“Yes, and you did not have to remove one single fingernail.”

She stared at him and only then became cognizant of the line Brian was drowning in as the after-school crew lined up for their final prepickup shot. “Just a minute. I have to do my job.”

He reluctantly stepped back.

She raced through the line, her mind filled with orders and actions, and she had to focus. Alex drifted around her mind.

His request was a little weird. She didn’t know him that well.

But if a hot celebrity came to her store every day and asked for help, why not help?

That situation was more common in Hollywood, California, than a few streets adjacent to the Hollywood District of Portland. Of course, in Hollywood, the barista would also be a hot actor, so it wouldn’t be quite as weird.

Alex was gorgeous. He made her heart thump. He’d joked about her being single at Darcy’s wedding, hinting that she just hadn’t met the right man—or dragon—and he flirted with her every time he came in. He was well aware of the admiration others bestowed on him. So he was certainly aware of her unwilling attention.

That was it.

He captivated her against her will. Even in the middle of pulling a shot, she couldn’t help her eyes from flitting to that side of the room and centering on the dragon man who defied human standards of beauty. He studied his phone like any other late-twenties GQ model out for the day in Portland.

But she’d just broken away from someone else who always required her attention.

Unwillingly. That person had dominated her thoughts. Forced her to tiptoe on glass. Crushed her soul and then sneered at the wreckage.

What could a man—male—stranger like Alex do to her?

She refused to find out.

Nicole finished serving the line, hung up her apron, and pulled the recorder off the wall. She stuck it in her necklace, which rested just above her collarbone, shouldered the messenger bag, and led an expectant Alex outside.

Her heart thudded. Her mouth went dry. She already felt the pull of expectations and the crush of disappointing others, and the fear of descending back to that person made her sharper than she needed to be.

“It’s weird,” she said bluntly. “Your request. Coming here every day. Asking your barista to ‘teach you a third path’ between suing a liar and taking them out back to beat the lies out. You’re my customer, not my student. And you’re not as chill as you try to make people believe. Honestly, I’m worried about you.”

He put his shades back on. “So you can tell.”

“Tell?”

“About the anger.” He flexed his fingers to claws. The iridescent sheen of teal melted to lavender and then receded back to human fingers covered by human skin. “I recently lost my temper and fought with my brothers. The experience was disturbing.”

“Darcy said you guys fight all the time.”

“They fight. Not me.” His cold smile returned. “My brothers are simple males. Quick to anger, easy to manipulate. A few days ago, my second-oldest brother, Pyro, surprised me with a jab.” He traced a finger across his unblemished cheek. “I experienced uncontrollable wrath. And so I very nearly eviscerated him.”

She didn’t know what to say.

Alex’s smile vanished. “My brothers are innocent dragonlets, Nicole. I desire to protect them from the forces who mean them harm. Until now, those forces excluded me. Your ability to soothe this…this odd, inexplicable rage is intriguing. I need to investigate.”

The glitter in his eyes made her thighs squeeze.

No, no, no.

Nicole held up her hand in a stop gesture. “Yeah, I don’t know the source of your anger, but I know for sure I’m not the cure. So I wish you luck with that. Take a deep breath, count to a hundred, and find a therapist.”

She held out her hand to shake his goodbye. Her chest trembled and her voice reflected the waver, but this was the right thing to do, definitely. Both for herself, who was still way more fragile than she tried to let on, and for Alex, who needed way more help than she could give him.

He frowned at her hand and then clasped it.

His fingers were larger than she’d realized, somehow, and stronger. The pads of his fingers were flat and dry, and he flexed with quiet power. Wild, seductive desires flashed in her mind. Her breasts tingled, tightening in response to his nearness, and then her feminine center clenched, throbbing hot and ready.

His scent drew her closer. He was beauty. A god. An ideal. And also a male.

His low voice seduced her ears. “You’re more than my barista.”

She swallowed. “Oh? Yeah?”

“Your brother married my sister. That makes us family.”

A low curse boiled in Nicole’s blood, shoving away the fog. “But we’re not…really…”

“We are. Really. Why have you never sought our assistance to replace your job? Or for the money that our family owes you simply for being related to Darcy?”

“Because not everything’s about money, and besides, you never offered.”

“Now I’m offering.”

“I’m not interested.”

“You must.” He clasped her hand and pressed it to his solid, muscular chest. The crisp suit seduced her hand. “I need you to save me from a terrible mistake. You’re the only one who can do this, Nicole.”

She battled her desire and his. “I don’t see why.”

“You cut deep to the heart of the disagreement, dissect the opposition, and stand triumphant on the truth.” His smile glittered and evoked a deep throb that slicked her pussy. “It invigorates me. I must have more.”

You’ve always followed your truth, Nicole.

Alex wasn’t just beautiful. He was calculating, clever, sharp. Somehow, he knew just what she wanted to hear.

He would get inside.

Her heart thudded hard.

She wanted him. She wanted to be the type of woman he thought she was. A justice seeker, a crusader, a teacher. Someone who helped others and tore down lies.

There wasn’t really a job for calling people out, was there?

His smile widened. She hadn’t said a word, and yet he already knew that he’d captured her.

She turned her hand to escape his and rested her fingertips lightly on his chest. “All right, I’ll help you. But you have to drop the flirting. I’m not looking for a relationship right now. Not with you, and not with anyone.”

“You simply haven’t—”

“Ignoring my request is disrespectful.”

He stopped midsentence, tapped his teeth together, and closed his mouth.

Okay, maybe it was possible to communicate. “You have to listen and stay calm. If I ask you to stop, you have to do it. I won’t stand around while you ‘efficiently’ let your anger win over. It’s not attractive.”

His lips tightened. “Anything else?”

“That’s all I can think of right now.” She dropped her hand and clasped her messenger bag strap. “Why is this specific coffee going to save Jasper?”

“Ideally, he will twist his would-be wife’s greed for this coffee until he can control her.”

“That’s a little messed up. No, I take it back. That’s a lot messed up.”

“Unlike a dragon, who would take advantage of the situation, Jasper will surely use his control to prevent the marriage.”

“That’s…good, I guess. It must suck to be a male dragon in a female-dominated society. Darcy told me being smaller and unable to breathe fire unless you chew a candy first really puts you at a disadvantage.”

“That’s why it’s imperative we save him. The roaster is in Northwest.” Alex offered his elbow.

Her heart thudded. “I don’t link arms.”

He eyed her over the rim of his shades. “Do you have a preferred method to fly with me to North Portland?”

“We could take an Uber.”

“Traffic is atrocious, and I’m due in the office in an hour.”

She reluctantly curved her hands over his mouthwatering bicep and breathed in his addictive scent. If Jasper could control someone with coffee, Alex could twist desires for his scent.

The cracked concrete fell away.

People on the sidewalk below stopped and pointed up at her. Alex rocketed skyward as fast as if gravity had reversed. Her stomach dropped. She clung to him.

He raised a blond brow. “You’re pressing your breasts against my arm.”

“Sorry!”

“I don’t mind. You’re the one who doesn’t want to flirt.” He flew across the river and into the northern industrial area.

Warehouse smells mixed with burned tires, fish stench from the river banks, and the glare of the bright clear sky. Train tracks, homeless camps, and blown plastic trash filled her view.

Alex landed in front of a warehouse.

Nicole dropped his arm and stepped back.

Her knees folded.

She caught herself before she collapsed. This was normal. She was light-headed because of the flight, and not because Alex made her swoon.

He offered his hand. “Need help?”

“No.” She straightened and tugged her sleeveless dress smooth. “All I need is for you to keep up your end of the agreement.”

His lips curved in a gorgeous smile that revealed shiny white teeth. Her stomach flipped up and down. “If you say so.”

“That’s right.” She straightened. “I do. Well, let’s go interview some roasters.”

“Follow me.” He strolled past her and banged on the warehouse doors. “Moira? Faith? Open this door. You have five seconds.”

The pounding of his fist echoed with a metallic ring.

He nodded, silently counting.

Wait.

“Uh, Alex? Maybe you should give them a call.”

“They won’t answer their phones.”

“Maybe they didn’t hear you. Knock again.”

He did, and the crash of his fist boomed through the space. If the roasters were inside, they heard it, and his cocky smile showed he read her mind. He lowered his fist and braced against the metal.

“Hey! Maybe we should come back another time.”

“There is no other time.”

“But…uh… how about we—”

“…Five.” His fingers shifted to claws, dug into the solid metal, and he tore the sliding doors off their wheel tracks.

The warehouse doors peeled away beneath Alex’s dragon claws like crumpled aluminum.

Alex ignored Nicole’s shout of incredulity. He leaned the doors against the corrugated wall and dusted his now-human-again hands on his thighs.

“You can’t destroy someone’s business,” Nicole gasped. “This is the roaster’s property.”

“I paid for the lease.” He straightened his cuffs and collar—perfection—and strode by the smoke-damaged cubicle walls forming a waiting room.

Nicole caught up to him, her thick black boots clomping on the floor. Black leggings cupped her calves, a dark navy sleeveless dress fluttered below her knees, and the strap of her messenger bag crossed her heaving breasts.

Her outrage was so adorable.

All of her was adorable.

Slim curves, glossy black hair, upturned nose. “You don’t look much like Darcy,” he’d said the first time he’d visited her at the coffee shop, and he’d startled her into their first real conversation. She’d touched her hair with a laugh. “Because Jackie and Darcy got the brown hair? Me and Tara are the opposite ends of the color spectrum. Tara’s blonde and a dancer and popular. Everything I’m not.”

He’d been intrigued even then. “What are you?”

“I’m still trying to figure it out,” she’d said.

He didn’t know anyone like her. That had caused him to watch her more carefully. He’d felt the urge to visit her during Darcy’s prolonged absence and lingered to identify her type, discover her secrets, and remove the strange fascination she seemed to hold. The fascination that hardened his cock and filled his head with unforgivable distraction.

Physically, he’d already studied her closely.

Take her hands. The fingers were long and slender, the nails short, and the colors healthy. Delicate filigree rings adorned her fingers.

He’d felt a strange urge to kiss every one. Savor the taste.

Wrap them around his hard cock.

Thrust into her saliva-slicked palms.

But now that study was over and so were those urges. His only goal was to identify how she calmed his mind. And he’d already had one explicit demonstration.

Why had he cared so much about a tip-jar thief? The weak human male had caught his eye and irritated him. But the instant Alex had realized the male was preying on Nicole, taking her money and getting away with it, he’d felt the white-hot rage.

And then she’d calmed him. Bit by bit, sentence by sentence, point by point.

He’d been right there. He could repeat every word. He’d memorized them.

But he still didn’t understand why her words had calmed him.

And that was what he needed now.

Before it was too late.

“Alex!” Nicole jogged after him in the warehouse. “Hey, Alex!”

He shook himself back to the present and glanced over his shoulder at Nicole. “This is my building.”

“Landlords still have to give notice!”

“Moira! Notice that I’m here for our meeting!” Alex called.

“Twenty-four-hour notice!”

“We scheduled the meeting days ago.”

Nicole tutted. “No, notice of the breaking and entering. Seriously, someone is going to sue you.”

“I employ excellent human lawyers.”

“Or you could just be patient and reschedule.”

He whirled on his heel and stopped directly outside the business office. Her censuring tone ought to irritate him, but it didn’t. He felt the need to explain, justify, appeal to her reason so that she would share his impatience and anger.

“My brother’s life is in jeopardy. I do not have twenty-four hours, and these people are lying to me. Now. Of all times.”

Nicole gripped her messenger bag strap, brought up short. Her dark eyes glistened with sympathy. “Right. Okay. My job is to call them out. But Alex, what happens if they don’t have the coffee you need? Or anything like it? Tell me you’re not going to grab them by the throat and threaten them.”

He weighed whether that would expedite the proceedings.

Nicole frowned. “Tell me.”

“I won’t grab them by the throat,” he agreed, only partially meaning it, and stormed into the office.

The slender part owner, Faith, jumped up from behind the office desk. “Alex! Were we meeting today? Moira must have forgotten.”

He made his smile as unpleasant as possible. “I hate it when that happens.”

Faith recoiled. Her light brown hair straggled from a dusty bandana, and the rest of her clothes—a navy tank top and slender hiking pants—hung off her frame. “Well, there’s nothing we can do today, so don’t let the door slam on you when you leave.”

“I ripped the doors off.”

“Again? You really shouldn’t do that, although we shouldn’t have forgotten the meeting, so I guess it’s a wash.”

Alex flexed his knuckles. Every time one of these meaningless humans lied to his face, fracture lines appeared on his perfect iceberg of calm. His claws tingled against his fingertips. “I knocked.”

“Oh? You did? Ah… That’s so strange. I didn’t hear you.”

His rage began to rise.

Nicole snorted. “Wait, what? He literally ripped the front doors off. If you didn’t hear him come in, you should get your hearing examined.”

Faith’s mouth flopped open. Her pale cheeks stained red. She was caught in her lie and unable to come up with a snappy defense.

And just like that, Alex’s shoulders relaxed, the tingle of scales dissipated, and his heart calmed.

How did Nicole…?

“Oh!” Nicole lifted her palms in a gesture of surrender to Faith. “Not to insult you if you’re deaf and a really good lip reader.”

“I’m not deaf.” Faith twisted her fingers in the yin-yang pendant at her neck. “I mean, I heard the doors, of course, I just…uh…didn’t know he was coming in. So I was going to come out. Eventually.”

“Uh-huh.” Nicole meandered around the small office, checked inside the coffee maker and sniffed the grounds. “Personally, if I heard that racket at work, I’d call the cops.”

Faith’s mouth opened and closed. “Well, we knew it was…um, I mean, who are you?”

“This is my barista, Nicole,” Alex said. “We have a few questions about the sample you provided.”

“S-sample?” Faith swallowed. “Oh, I don’t know anything about espresso.”

Nicole studied the stack of used tea bags next to the small sink. “Are you the roaster?”

“I’m the accountant. I don’t even drink coffee.”

“Strange choice for a profession.”

“Moira’s my best friend.” Faith nervously rocked in her hiking sandals. “Sorry, I can’t help you.”

An awkward silence descended. Nicole continued her walk-around.

Alex needed to expedite this. “Where’s Moira?”

Faith glanced at the door to the roastery behind her. “She’s, uh, not here.”

“Faith…” He drummed sharp nails against Faith’s metal cabinet. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

Faith looked everywhere but at him. “I’m sorry.”

Nicole piped up. “Can you call Moira and let her know we’re here?”

“Um…well…she doesn’t have a phone…” Faith glanced again at the roastery door.

“Really? Wow.” Nicole looked Faith up and down. “You know, that’s just not a good look for you.”

Faith glanced down at her outfit. “What’s not a good look for me?”

“Lying. I mean, if you’re going to do it, you shouldn’t be so obvious about it.”

Faith’s face reddened from the collarbone up. “I’m not lying. She really doesn’t have a phone.”

“Oh, so then you were lying about the part where she’s actually here in the roastery?”

“I d-didn’t say that.”

Alex strode to the roastery door.

Faith jumped to her feet in a panic. “Where are you going?”

“To see Moira.” He yanked the door open. It was unlocked, but the crack of splintering wood said he’d used too much strength anyway.

“I just told you she’s not out there!” Faith chased after them. “She’s not seeing visitors. She doesn’t want to be disturbed!”

Big bags of imported coffee beans were stacked in the corridor. Alex pushed open the swinging doors into the main warehouse. It was empty concrete and unadorned rafters, and unlike the coffee roasteries he’d been to before, this one had one banged-up, blackened metal garbage can suspended by ceiling chains over an open fire in the center of the floor. The far doors were open to let in sunlight and heat, and disperse the stench of the burnt tires that permeated this area.

Moira poked the sticky black substance that was on fire. She was a tiny woman with chunky black hair wrapped up in a bandana and face hidden behind a mask. She wore a hiking outfit similar to Faith’s, but covered with a thick blacksmith’s apron. Fireproof mitts covered her hands to the elbow.

Nicole stopped before he did as though trying to gauge a safe distance. “What the heck is this?”

Alex turned. “Haven’t you been to a roastery before?”

“Yes.”

“And do roasters not toast the raw coffee beans over a fire?”

“Not like this they don’t.”

Moira looked up, did a double take, and carefully removed her mask with her big mitts to reveal a forced smile. “Welcome! What a happy surprise. Faith, why didn’t you tell me our company’s savior was here?”

Faith rocked to a stop behind Nicole and bowed her head. “You were busy.”

“I would have let you know to wait a few minutes. Your first official batch of Dragon Coffee is almost done.” Moira lowered her mask and shook the can. The stench intensified, and her voice became muffled. “Ah, yes. That should do it.”

She pulled the can away from the sticky, smoldering fire by the chains, which were affixed to the rafters by a track, and used a winch to lower the can to the concrete. It smoked. She removed the superheated chains, dropping them to the concrete, and pulled off the lid.

A billow of smoke escaped, along with an overpowering stench of acidity. Moira stuck in a fireplace shovel and stirred the beans.

“I have no words.” Nicole shook her head, horrified wonder transfixing her gaze. “Faith, do you mind if I record this? No one will ever believe I saw it, and I absolutely hate being called a liar.”

Faith looked at Moira and then away. “Um…”

“It’s our super-secret method, so of course I mind.” Moira lifted out a shovel of black coal char. “Marvel at this goodness. You don’t want the other dragons duplicating the flavor.”

“They won’t,” Alex assured her, “because this is not the roast I asked you to provide.”

“What are you talking about?” Moira’s face, already red and sweaty, glistened, and her eyes watered with intense cheer. “This is the roast we gave you before. It’s exactly the same.”

“It’s the same as the sample you gave me, but not the same as the roast I asked you to make, and which you promised me in contract form that you would produce by this time.”

“It is the same.” Moira tilted the hot shovel. “I guarantee it.”

His irritation crackled like the still-smoking fire.

Nicole’s amazed laugh centered him. “In which universe is a variegated blend and a twenty-minute mono-char the same?”

Moira’s smile fixed in place. “It’s the same.”

“How can you call yourself a roaster?”

“Easily, and before you ask, I sleep like the dead at night.” Moira looked at Faith and then back at Nicole. “Who are you again?”

“She’s my barista,” Alex said.

“So coffee is my six-to-two life.” Nicole peered over Alex’s shoulder at the shovel. “Tell me, is this supposed to be first or second crack? Because the only way to get the blend Alex showed me before is to do a spectrum of roasts and combine.”

“Of course I knew that.” Moira gave a tinkling laugh. “I don’t have time for multiple roasts, so I’m expediting the process for the large orders you promised.”

“We have large orders for the variegated blend,” he told her, using Nicole’s words. “Not this chaff.”

“It’s not chaff!”

“Charcoal.” Nicole tsked. “The beans are so far gone, they’re in shards. The blend had no shards. You should put the whole bin out. At least it’s already in the trash can.”

“It’s not trash.” Moira dumped the beans and banged her shovel on the concrete. “We’re experts. This is our method.”

“You’re going to get shut down by the health department. Are you seriously roasting your beans in a used garbage can?”

“You don’t know. Besides, roasts aren’t regulated.”

“So you’re on a one-woman mission to change that?”

Moira blinked, her smooth talk caught on the snag of Nicole’s dry tone.

And again, Alex’s irritation eased.

He consulted his watch. “You promised the first batch yesterday. Is there anything you’d like to say before I repossess everything and sue you for breach of contract?”

Moira’s charming smile returned. “You don’t want to shut us down. We’ve almost solved the mystery! Nobody else you took this roast to could duplicate it. They wouldn’t even try. I’ll stop my experiments at that famous dragon efficiency of yours and focus only on reproducing the blend, like your friend here has described.”

“How long will that take?”

“I can’t give you a deadline. There are so many factors.” Moira pulled off her mitts and untied her fireproof apron, dropped them on the ground, and held out her arms to usher them out. “You know how it is. Roasting isn’t an exact science.”

“Except it is an exact science.” Nicole set her combat boots and eyed the diminutive roaster like she was crazy. “Like baking is an exact science. Once you know the recipe, you know how long it takes. Unless you’ve never made it before.”

“We’ve made it before!” Moira slapped her thigh. “What a joke! I’m the one who sold you that pallet of delicious variegated blend. Faith even gave you a discount!”

“So then what’s the holdup?” Nicole asked.

Moira pursed her lips to fabricate a new lie.

Faith murmured in a tiny voice, “The warehouse fire.”

Everyone turned to her.

“Warehouse fire?” Nicole repeated. “What…oh, wait. The one a couple months ago? Nobody was hurt. It burned an empty lot and part of one warehouse.”

“The part with all our equipment.” Faith cupped her elbows and shrank in on herself. “We lost the original recipe. It took time to set up the roastery again. Moira’s been working day and night.”

“Okay…no, wait. Something’s not adding up. You lost the recipe, but did you suffer total amnesia?”

Faith looked away. “I’m the accountant.”

“Yeah, but even you should know…wait a minute.” Nicole put her hand to her temple. “Wait, wait. This explanation just raises more questions. You mean to say that you always roasted coffee beans in a used metal garbage can? With chains and burned tires?”

Moira cut in with a smile. “We had to change a few things.”

“What things? Or should I be afraid to ask?”

“That’s a trade secret.”

“Look, Moira. Faith. You’re still giving us the runaround. If you tell the truth, Alex might consider not suing you.”

Alex eyed Nicole. If he thought she would deny him the pleasure of destroying these people, legally speaking, he would convince her otherwise.

Nicole ignored his pointed glare. “Alex is a billionaire dragon shifter from space. It’s not like he needs the money.”

Moira smiled. “There’s nothing to tell. We just need a little more—”

“Tell them about Henrik,” Faith said.

Moira’s smile became tinted with a warning. “Faith, they don’t need to know every detail.”

“We had another roaster.”

“Faith!”

“I can’t lose my parents’ house,” Faith told Moira.

“I’m going to figure out Henrik’s recipe!”

“You were the business manager. That’s why you don’t know the recipe.”

“Faith. This is our one chance to be business owners and millionaires. Your one chance to live your dream. And right now, you’re ruining it.”

“It’s already ruined. The fire ruined everything. You’re the one who—”

“Fine!” Moira took a deep breath, reaffixed her smile, and faced Alex and Nicole. “Faith is right. I was never the official roaster, even though it’s not hard, so I picked it up in a weekend just fine. Henrik was our third partner. He developed and then stole the recipe for your Dragon Coffee, and then the warehouse fire finished off our equipment.”

How had she done this?

Alex felt calm, and Nicole had shaken loose secrets his adversaries had been intent on keeping.

The longer he spent observing her, the less he understood how she worked. Her method seemed backward to everything he understood, and yet, she was oddly effective.

Nicole continued her questions with adorable seriousness. “And where’s Henrik now?”

“Norway,” Faith said.

“Norway!”

“His grandparents have a farm. That’s where he’d go when he…that’s where he is.”

Nicole shook her head. “How will we ever get to Norway?”

“We’ll fly.” Alex straightened his cuffs. “Right now.”

She whipped toward him. “I can’t fly to Norway. I have to house-sit tonight.”

“The flight will take an hour.”

“But…really?”

Moira smiled with real glee for the first time. “I would love nothing more than for you to talk with Henrik. Faith, go get his address.”

Faith ran back to the office.

Moira made fists. “I tried to guilt him into doing what’s right, but he won’t respond. Coward. He’s hurt everyone he’s ever come into contact with. I wouldn’t be surprised if he started that fire just to punish us.”

“I heard it was started by the homeless camp,” Nicole said.

“I said I wouldn’t be surprised. Go and punish him for what he did to us, or better yet, bring him back here and make him make it up to us.”

Faith returned with the address on a torn piece of paper. Nicole folded it into a pocket of her messenger bag.

“You will bring him back, won’t you?” Moira’s eyes glittered. “You have to make him suffer. Promise me.”

“Well, that depends.” Nicole spoke before Alex, without making eye contact. “Alex is a dragon, not a CIA agent, and extraordinary rendition seems a little extreme for a business dispute.”

Moira’s smile slipped. “Extreme? He’s costing us a million-dollar contract.”

Nicole’s brows jumped. “You took a million-dollar contract to produce a roast that you had no idea how to make? And now you want us to kidnap the thieving arsonist to work for you again? Is that really what you’re asking?”

“I didn’t say he committed arson. He’s a miserable man. It seems like the kind of thing he would do.”

“You don’t hear yourself accusing him again?”

“No, because I didn’t say he started the fire. Saying he would isn’t an accusation. It’s an observation.”

“Well, I observe that your request sounds crazy.” Nicole turned to Alex. “Thanks for this fun and educational field trip. You can submit payment for my consulting services in the form of two to three gourmet sandwiches from the shop next to Fresh Beans.”

He lingered in the roaster, momentarily debating what to do with the two defeated would-be roasters, and then he followed Nicole out the back door into the sunshine. She was a much more interesting subject. “You’re supposed to negotiate payment before the transaction.”

“What? A billionaire can’t afford a couple of sandwiches?”

“It’s the principle. I’ve already gotten what I wanted.” He offered his elbow.

She reached to take it and stumbled on the broken concrete.

He stepped into her wobble and snugged her firmly to his midsection.

Her nostrils flared, and her pupils dilated. Classic signs of his power over her. He evoked desire wherever he went.

His cock filled with heat.

That part was unusual.

As before, as always with him, Nicole rested her palms gently on his chest in a warding position. Keeping the boundary she’d set since the first day they’d met. No matter how much he teased and poked and prodded, she did not cross the line.

He more than respected that self-restraint in her.

He craved it.

Of course, she needed to be less naïve. Turning her back on her tip jar, imagining the roasters didn’t mean to evade and cheat him, trusting him to keep any promise. Pure naïveté.

That was another charm.

While he figured out how she calmed his head, and he could teach her not to be so ridiculously open all the time.

“But you have until Norway to change my mind,” he said.

“Norway? No.” She laughed. “I can’t go to Norway.”

“It will take two hours tops.”

“You say that, but I looked it up just now, and they’re nine hours ahead. Henrik’s in bed.”

“Ah. You confirmed our prey’s location with your vast human network of intelligence assets?”

She fixed him with a gaze. “Obviously, I could be wrong, but he’s a guy living with his grandparents on a farm. He might party until the Norwegian pubs close, but I bet Granny raps his knuckles with a spoon if he’s out past ten o’clock.”

“In bed, he will be most vulnerable.”

“No.” She lightly thumped his pectoral with her palm. “Stop doing that. No more illegal entry. No pouncing on people in their grandparents’ beds. No threats or scaring people or picking them up by the throat and holding them immobile.”

“Why?”

“It’s not necessary.”

“Perhaps not strictly necessary, but it is more efficient.”

“You ripped the front door off when we could have flown around the building, seen the back door was open, and landed in front of Moira. That would have taken, what? Seconds? It would have been way faster.” She checked her phone. “Besides, I have to get back. It’s time to feed the wiener.”

“Excuse me?”

“The wiener. Oh, sorry. The dachshund I’m sitting.”

Nicole directed him to let her off at a brownstone in South Portland. He lingered on the steps, watching her desire to remain grow without having to say a thing.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she began.

But he could. He cocked his grin.

“If you really want my help, you can come get me at midnight, and we can chase down the guy. It’ll be ten a.m. his time when we get there, and if he’s not out of bed, he deserves to be. I’m supposed to be subbing tomorrow, so I’ll have to arrange coverage.”

“I can arrange coverage.”

“What? No you can’t.” She laughed at him.

“Multitudes could perform your job.”

“Yeah, but how many of them know my boss?” She waved off his more than generous offer. “I just have to make a few phone calls. This is the least of our worries. I’ll see you at midnight, then.”

He watched her ascend the steps and enter the apartment, and then he checked his time. She was right. Her temporary job was the least of his worries. And yet the throb in his body told him something different.

Why did a strange heat stir his cock? She was a curiosity. Not a mate.

He couldn’t have a mate.

The only dragon superpower that mattered was self-preservation.

And finely honed revenge.

Everything else was a distraction.

He was using her.

That was all.

His afternoon meeting alarm reminded him that he still had responsibilities.

He launched into the air. Without her near him, the tingling on his skin began. Anger. Rage. Disgust. Rending.

He was alone in this world and always would be.

He bore the secrets of the universe.

The secrets of the worst players and the secrets of the innocents.

Nicole was an innocent.

After he figured out how she calmed him; then he wouldn’t need her anymore. He’d leave her behind without a second thought.

Just like he’d left behind everyone else.

Alex flew back to the Onyx Corporation head office. It sat in a small field outside Vancouver, Washington.

The six-floor glass-paneled building was currently the center of dragon chaos.

Shortly after their human clothing export company had reached the number-one position outside Draconis, the Empress had offered her claw in marriage to the eldest Onyx brother, Mal. He’d deflected by marrying a human, and her marriage offer had passed to Pyro, who also scrambled to marry a human, and then to Kyan, who’d done the same. The offer had, of course, skipped Amber because she was female, but she had surprisingly married their long-time human consultant, the friendly and fearless male Darcy.

Before the offer could pass on to the fifth Onyx sibling, Jasper, the Empress had entered her death sleep. Now her heirs fought for the throne.

But one of her advisers, Wrathmoda, sought to marry Jasper anyway. She was coming to Earth tomorrow to take him away.

Alex would not let that happen.

But while she was here, the aristocrat had to be entertained in style. The low-caste Onyx Corporation office on backwater Earth was not stylish, and so Jasper was doing the best he could to fix it up. His dragon contractors flew in supplies, drove large trucks into the parking lot below, and rocketed up to the massive disk-shaped interstellar ship shadowing the landscape far overhead.

Alex hated it.

Where was the quiet isolation he’d enjoyed for the last five years?

The sight of so many dragons made his scales itch.

Had he always felt this fury pressing out? Or only now that he knew what it felt like to live in peace?

Alex maneuvered between contractors and landed on the office building roof.

Their two-passenger spaceship, good for carrying humans around Earth, rested in good condition under its flexible shelter.

He strode to the edge of the roof. Clear glass tubes hugged the upper walls. He dropped into his and stopped at the clear glass door leading into his office. He opened the door, floated inside, and closed it behind him.

The interior sounded strangely quiet. Abandoned. With all the activity focused on the approaching aristocrat, none was left over for the ordinary work of the low-caste dragons who ran the Onyx Corporation.

Just like on Draconis.

Alex paused at the mirror behind his large mahogany desk. His image reflected perfection.

Except his eyes.

His teal-and-lavender eyes gleamed with barely suppressed rage. The calm that Nicole had brought into his life, like the odd taste of the chamomile tea she had made him, had already dissipated.

He was a single slight away from ripping someone’s throat out.

And in a building full of innocent, helpless humans and his own hapless but otherwise well-meaning brothers, that could not happen.

Alex flexed his knuckles.

The shadow of the rare bruise where he had punched Pyro and fantasized about hurting him—which vaguely horrified and frightened him—was still visible on his knuckles. He rubbed the mark.

Perhaps he should avoid his siblings for the rest of the—

“Alex!” Mal roared, echoing through the VIP floor. “My office. Now!”

Alex clenched his fists and strode out of his office and down the hall.

Their human clothing exports were paused. All the trade ports on Draconis were closed until the next Empress was chosen. The oddly empty hallways gleamed with polish, even though heat and a yellowish haze filled the air. Again, just like on Draconis, an appearance of beauty couldn’t mask the malaise.

Alex stopped in Mal’s doorway.

Mal’s CEO office had once been the largest, but now it had been halved to split the space with his wife. It also held a number of potted plants, ferns and succulents mostly, along with the conference table and chairs and desk.

Striving for his usual pleasant chilled tone, Alex waited formally outside. “Mal. You called?”

His gruff oldest brother sat behind his own desk, files strewn around the floor and long scratch marks showing his agitation. He waved Alex in and then returned his palms to the desk, unsheathed his claws, and resheathed them. “You ready for Jasper’s event tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

“He wanted some coffee. That stuff the Gentleman’s Society liked. You found it?”

“It’s taken care of.”

Mal studied him for a long moment, and then dragged his malachite-green claws across the desk, tugging up threads of the fine wood with little shrieks.

Whatever he had been about to say, he changed his mind.

Alex pushed. “Is that all?”

“Yes.”

Alex bowed, as was proper from younger to elder, and turned on his loafer heels.

“No! Wait.”

Alex waited.

“A female.” Mal shook his head, his gaze wide on the wood shreds, as if he couldn’t believe he was asking. “Do you have a female?”

Alex didn’t move. “I don’t see how this is relevant to running an intergalactic clothing company.”

“If Jasper gets out of marrying Adviser Wrathmoda, then you might be her next target.”

“That will never happen.”

“But if she’s anything like the Empress, she’ll switch from the dragon she was going to marry to the next oldest brother, like me to Pyro to—”

“That will never happen.”

Mal blinked, then frowned. “I never thought I’d get an offer of marriage from anyone, much less the Empress. Now she’s in her death sleep, and her advisers are circling. Why? We built a successful company, but we’re still low caste. There are a hundred richer dragons in the Outer Rim and a thousand on Draconis! Why me? Why Pyro? Why Kyan?”

Alex tried to channel the icy calm that he had easily accessed and had used frequently around his boisterous siblings. “That is a mystery.”

“Then you don’t know it won’t come to bite you!”

“I’ll bite back.”

“I’m serious, Alex!” Mal’s irises flared green. “If Jasper’s taken away, there will be one less dragon to save you from the next offender!”

His concern was kindly meant.

And all Alex could see was a reddish haze.

He tried to smile through it. “Don’t worry, Mal. Someone else cares far more about my engagement than any possible adviser.”

“Mother is in the Outer Rim! She can’t fly here to defend you from—”

“More even than Mother.”

Mal’s teeth snapped together. Shock flooded his always dynamic face. “Is that possible?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Who?!”

Before Alex was forced to lie or answer, Mal’s main wall screen resolved into the image of his wife, Cheryl. Generous curves fit into a red pinup dress cloaked by a comfy navy-blue hoodie, and her soft brown hair was tugged into a gentle bun at her nape.

“I thought of the other thing. If you could water my plants, I’d be—eep!” She saw Alex and, even though she was fully covered from hood to fuzzy slippers, she bounced over the couch and hid behind the back as if he’d caught her naked.

Mal was making a notation on his pad and didn’t notice. “Water the plants…”

A small bright spot of amusement lightened Alex’s heart. “Hello, Cheryl.”

“A-Alex.” She peered over the couch back. “I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

“You may be the first in the history of dragons to miss me.”

“I, ah, just was talking to Mal, and I didn’t know there was anyone else. Um, sorry to interrupt.”

“I’m the interrupter.” He backed to the doorway, still mildly amused. “I’ll return when your conversation is done.”

“We’re done! It’s done.”

“Wait.” Mal lifted his index finger to stop Alex from leaving, but he focused on Cheryl. “Did you decide on the fertilizer mix for the pothos?”

“Oh. Yes.” Cheryl rose above the couch back to almost normal. “Give it fifty-fifty water to mix. Two cups. I’ll repot it later.”

“I can repot it.”

“That’s okay. I like to do it.” Her clear-eyed gaze met Mal’s, and even though her cheeks burned bright red, she didn’t stutter once for him. “I’m sure you’re busy.”

“Not too busy to satisfy my wife.”

She brightened and then coughed into her hand. “We’ll talk tonight. Bye, Mal. G-goodbye, Alex.”

He bid her farewell and she closed the connection.

Mal finished his notation. “…and repot the pothos…”

Once Mal had acquired no knowledge outside of what was necessary to run the business. Alex pressed. “Do you know how?”

“Of course. Cheryl must be able to rely on me at any instant. I will not fail her.”

How funny. In the same way that Cheryl had changed from a shy, stuttering intern that he’d mostly ignored, she was now a clear-eyed art director who blossomed with confidence around Mal. And Mal too was a different person around Cheryl. Calmer, more careful, even kind.

How very strange.

Mal finished his note, set aside the pad, and gazed up at Alex again. “You have a plan to avoid entrapment into marriage?”

“Failproof.”

“All right. I’ll rely on it.”

Alex hesitated. “Anything else?”

Mal flattened and pushed out his lips. Then he made fists that turned malachite green with his scales and slammed them on the desk. “I’m supposed to run a clothing export company, not a dragon dating agency! What has this crisis turned us into?”

Another smile teased Alex. Mal had no idea. He never had, and possibly he never would. It was endearing.

“Is that all?”

“Yes.” Mal grabbed the phone and growled into it. “Put me through to my wife.”

Alex went to the door.

In the half second before he entered the hallway, Mal’s growly rugged features smoothed, and his tone softened into something that would have been unrecognizable when they arrived on the planet. “You like repotting? I’m coming home for lunch. And I’m bringing the pothos.”

Alex turned away before he overheard too much of their conversation.

First, there would be nothing useful to use against his siblings or Cheryl, the shy intern who had caught Mal’s attention and saved him from a terrible marriage. Second, he didn’t want to use anything against them. In a crazy way, he wanted to protect them.

If only he could.

His siblings didn’t know it, but Adviser Wrathmoda was the least of their worries.

There would be no female for Alex.

Nicole had a use and he was using her.

Even if he wished to make it into something more, his background meant that he could never be with her. Just like he could never be with an adviser. His singleness was assured.

No matter what he wanted.

Alex picked Nicole up at midnight as promised.

He wore a different impeccable gray suit—this one a slightly darker shade—and teal cuff links. “I suppose this is a date.”

She flushed hot. The night’s cool air that had sent her reaching for a thin hoodie fled, and although her shower made her feel fresh, seeing him made her sweat. She came awake when she saw him, as if every pore opened up to a hot shot of coffee.

“That’s what humans would say,” he added.

“It’s only a date if there’s a potential for romance.” She locked up the house and followed him down the steps to the street. “And I already told you how I felt about that.”

“Too bad.”

Her heart thudded again. “I think you just like flirting with someone who won’t respond.”

“Ah.” He tilted his gaze in her direction. “Am I doing it wrong?”

He was doing everything exactly right. That was the problem. She battled potential answers in her mind before settling on no reply.

A strange car parked under the street lamp. Alex popped the hood, and the whole top came off, revealing a two-seater that he offered his arm and helped her up into. He sat at a control panel, and the top closed in, sealing with a slight hiss. The car lifted vertically, rocketing up into the air, and yet she felt nothing.

She rested on the plush couch-like chair. “Should I buckle up?”

“Why?”

“In case we crash.”

He eyed her. “If the lift fails at this altitude, there will be nothing left of you but paste, and it will not matter what you are wearing.”

Fair enough. She felt the same way about her commute by scooter.

Nicole looked out the darkened view screen “windows,” which were just wall screens that showed the camera views outside. Portland fell below, and they zoomed east at blurring speeds.

She gave up on watching the view screens.

The silence in the car urged her to ask the question on her mind. “Is your brother doing okay?”

“Which one?”

“Is more than one in mortal danger?”

He hesitated.

“I meant Jasper,” she clarified.

He focused on the screen and answered without looking. “He was kidnapped weeks ago. We haven’t spoken.”

And this coffee was the key to getting him back.

Somehow.

She bounced her hands on her knees.

Alex seemed cool and collected, but he must be stressed. That was understandable. She’d feel the same if Tara or Jackie got kidnapped. Or if Darcy got kidnapped again.

In less than half an hour, the sky lightened, and they blasted through the sunrise into broad daylight. Alex slowed the spaceship to center over Norway, a country broken like a gemstone fractured in the ocean. As they zoomed down, the green spaces expanded to forests stitched by roads and rivers. Cities glistened like stones embedded at trade routes.

He oriented to the south and landed in the green parking lot of a farm.

The top folded back.

She rose and stretched. Her body and mind said it was after midnight, but the sunlight and birdsong pouring in insisted it was morning. Her stomach finally answered the demand by growling for breakfast.

She hugged the rumbles. Alex finished at the controls and held out his hand. She reached to take it. He bypassed her hand and gripped her elbow, as he had the other times, and lifted her in a quick gravity-defying hop out onto the soft dirt hillside.

A steady slope of green ended in the swoop of a river. In the close distance, dramatic mountains formed a bowl around the isolated farmhouse. Insects buzzed in fruit-scented shrubs and trees.

Behind her, a couple of cars were parked, and a small, unevenly hand-painted sign showed the way to a restaurant, plus the symbol for a steaming cup of coffee above text in English and what must be Norwegian.

The farmhouse was a weathered burgundy seventeenth-century clapboard house with darker wood outbuildings behind it.

Nicole sighed. “It’s beautiful. We should get breakfast before we ask for Henrik.”

“Why?”

“Because this is a cute spot for lunch, and if he knows why we’re here, he might spit in our food.”

Alex paced her up the mild hill to the restaurant sign. “That would never happen.”

“I would never do it, but I’ve worked with too many other people in food service to issue a guarantee.”

“If any male purposely put his saliva in your meal, I would remove his fingernails.” A shimmer of lavender passed across the backs of his hands and face. His tone was cool, but the underlying tension surfaced.

She stopped him at the entrance to the restaurant. “Take a deep breath, okay? We’re not tearing anyone’s fingernails off. We’re just asking a few questions.”

“It would be more efficient to—”

“No. You agreed. Just questions.”

Alex hesitated for a long moment, then moved past her without making any promises.

A tall, broad-chested, blond man came out the doors, saw them, and started to hold the door for them to go inside.

Alex oriented on him. “Henrik. I have a few questions about your Dragon Coffee—”

The man released the door, whirled on his boots, and fled around the back of the farmhouse.

Nicole grabbed Alex’s arm. “After him!”

Alex lifted her into the air. She gripped him, adrenaline pumping with excitement, and they flew after the man.

Henrik ran pell-mell across the back pasture, leaped the upright stick fence, and carried on across the next pasture.

“Henrik!” Nicole called. “Stop!”

Henrik ran faster. He was a huge man with a large lung capacity.

“You dragons have quite the effect on people,” she commented.

“Guilty people.” Alex’s voice simulated calm, but his eyes were hard. He was irritated again. “Running only prolongs the inevitable.”

Henrik scaled another fence.

“Hey, Henrik? Henrik! Stop running! We’re going to catch you.”

She was talking to the wind.

“Wait here.” Alex deposited her in the grass and pounced on Henrik.

The giant stumbled and collapsed.

Alex rolled the man onto his back. Henrik flailed. An elbow caught Alex on the chin.

He jerked in surprise. Then, rage transfixed his features. His teeth shifted to pointy fangs. His skin shimmered with colorful scales, and the infuriated growl that emerged from Alex’s handsome face made her blood chill.

Alex hauled back one hand to punch Henrik.

His fingers shifted to deadly razor-tipped claws.

“Alex!” She raced up and grabbed his forearm. “What are you doing? He’s down. Stop!”

He held his clawed hand up and looked at her, rage replaced by confusion, and then his claws shifted back to human. He stood and stared down at Henrik.

The blond man curled into a fetal position, covered his face, and wept.

Nicole touched Alex’s elbow. “Are you okay?”

Confused emotions flickered across his face. He stepped back to put distance between them. “Fine.”

Sure, okay. She focused on their target and crept closer. “Henrik? Are you okay?”

He snuffled into his elbow. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“We don’t want to hurt you.”

Alex’s fingers flexed. “Innocent people don’t run.”

“That’s not true.” Nicole addressed the sobbing man. “Look, I don’t want to hurt you. We’re on a time crunch. Why did you run?”

He sobbed.

Alex flicked his claws to expedite the interrogation.

She butted in again. “We just want the recipe for the roast so that Moira and Faith can make it.”

His voice wobbled between sobs. “You don’t already know?!”

“No. That’s why we’re here.”

He uncurled in shock. Tears tracked dirt down his face. He was so large to be crying. “I’m sorry. They never should have sold those beans. Much less to you.” He started shaking again.

Alex clicked his claws. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I didn’t even mean to roast them. Please, please, don’t kill me. I wasn’t even there when…when…”

“Okay, take a deep breath,” Nicole advised both of them, and focused on Alex until she saw him take another step back. “We’re not going to kill anybody. We need the recipe to save somebody, actually.”

Henrik sniffed. “Save? Did someone have a reaction?”

“You mean like an allergic reaction? No. Why, is there something other than coffee in those beans?”

“I don’t know. But they could easily kill someone.”

Nicole checked with Alex.

He looked cooler. “They haven’t killed anyone. They’re the most popular coffee beans among the limited circle of dragons who’ve tried them. If they were produced widely, they would probably be the most popular.”

“Most…popular?” Henrik coughed and shook his head, stunned. “No…”

“Right, so you’re not in trouble,” Nicole assured him.

“Yet.” Alex’s smile was shy of pleasant.

She glared at him. “Right. Give us your recipe, and we’ll be on our way.”

Henrik focused on her. “You’re a roaster?”

“A little.”

“Because I don’t see how anyone could duplicate the original roast, but if I tell you the conditions…Do you promise he won’t hurt me? Or sue me.” He rested a dirt-smeared hand against his forehead. “So many dragons must have drunk this. I have nothing. They took everything.”

Alex spoke softly. “Focus, Henrik. Or we’ll drag you back to explain it to Moira.”

“Please don’t!” All-new panic squeezed his face, and his voice rose even higher than when he’d thought Alex could kill him. “I’d rather die in Norway! Promise you won’t take me back, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

Alex smirked. “I pro—”

“Honestly, we can’t promise you that.” Nicole cut off Alex’s lie and ignored his frown. “It depends on what you say. If you tell us something really bad, or if I can’t understand the recipe, then we might have to take you back.”

Alex looked ready to have a few words with her. “We don’t have time.”

“We know where he lives, Alex. There’s no reason to compromise anyone’s integrity. So long as Henrik hasn’t committed a crime, then it’s probably fine.”

Henrik covered his face and moaned.

Uh-oh. “You committed a crime?”

Henrik didn’t answer.

Alex snicked his claws out again.

Henrik didn’t even notice.

She knelt next to the big guy. “Just tell us. We’re not cops. Get it all out there. Unburden yourself. You’ll feel better.”

“Don’t make me go back to Moira.”

“Why are you so scared of Moira?”

“She’s a psychotic liar who’s trying to get me killed.” He lowered his hands and turned a tortured face on Nicole. “Faith was my… I thought she was my girlfriend. We met in Kenya on a work experience, and I had a little money, so I joined her in America to build our roastery. But her friend Moira took over everything. She turned Faith against me, and then she wouldn’t let me leave. She stole my passport, my phone, and she filled it with…” He shook his head, the memories too awful to speak. “She said if I disobeyed her, then she’d show it to the police and I’d die in jail. I had to work and live at the roastery.”

Nicole tried to square her impression of Faith and Moira, two relatively small, shy women, with this story. “You’re a victim of human trafficking?”

“That’s why there was no point in fighting! Nobody would believe me!” He gestured at himself. “Six-foot, strong, white European with blond hair and blue eyes? I’m a poster child for privilege.”

Alex studied him.

Well, not everyone was always as they seemed. Nicole knew that better than anyone. “How did you escape?”

He took a deep breath and let it out. “I started the fire.”

“You started the Warehouse 23 fire?”

“It was cold. They wouldn’t buy me a space heater, they wouldn’t let me have my coat. Roasting is hot, and they said to roast all the beans! Okay. I thought I was going to live like a slave the rest of my life, and I just…” He lifted his hands to illustrate his actions. “I pulled in the big communal dumpster, and I poured in all the beans. And then I went to the barrel, the one the homeless always used there, and I pulled it next to the dumpster, and I just…I lit it off.”

“I don’t believe you,” Alex said coldly.

“He just confessed to arson,” Nicole snapped. “Of all the parts of his story, this is the part you don’t believe?”

Alex compressed his lips.

Henrik dropped his hands. “The police came, as well as the fire department. But they didn’t blame me. They were very kind. At the station, I called my grandfather. He was so disappointed but he sent me the money. I got to the Norwegian embassy, they reissued my ID, and I flew here. And then Moira sent a horrible letter.”

The other shoe in Nicole’s brain dropped. “Wait. You’re saying the coffee that’s so popular with the dragons was literally roasted in a dumpster fire?”

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there.” He shuddered and looked up at Alex, who had obviously figured it out before her. “I never thought there’d be anything left to sell. Moira brought me expired food when she remembered to bring me food at all.”

“So you can’t recreate the roast?”

“How can I? How could anyone? But Moira told me you would find out and blame me. The only way to save my life was to return to Portland and recreate the blend the proper way. But I didn’t, and then I saw you…”

“And you ran.” Nicole stood and dusted grass off her leggings. “This is a beautiful farm.”

“I didn’t use to think so. It’s quiet and dull, and I know everyone in twenty miles.” He stood as well, towering over her. “Now, it is my refuge.”

“Can you show us Moira’s letter?”

His face fell.

“Did you burn it?”

“No.” His shoulders slouched. “I’ll show you. This way.”

They crossed the fields back to his grandparents’ farmhouse. Alex strolled silently beside her. A delicious scent of coffee and toasted bread permeated the air as they followed Henrik into the farmhouse.

An older woman looked at him with worry and spoke a phrase in what Nicole assumed was Norwegian.

“Ja, Mormor.” He stomped up the stairs and ducked under the doorway.

His bedroom was strewn with clothes, papers, and shoes like soccer cleats, and it smelled like old wood and sunshine. He opened a scratched hope chest and rummaged under quilts to produce a small box. He opened it and handed a paper packet to Nicole.

His big hands shook.

Nicole unfolded the packet. “Handwritten…for sixteen pages? Wow. Okay, here’s the start. ‘Henrik, you nasty serial-cheating piece of crap. You broke Faith’s heart for no reason, and you’re going to cry big tears when I find you. I’m going to cut your head off and stuff dirt down your throat and…’ Uh…does she get to a point?”

“Eventually.”

Nicole finished the insane rant. “That’s so crazy. I mean, Moira seemed a little dramatic, but all this… ‘If the dragons find out what you’ve done, they’ll bite you in half. Do what you owe us, or I’ll send them for you.’ No wonder you ran. Why did you save this?”

“I didn’t know what to do with it, so…you can have this as well.” He held up a coffee bag underneath. “She sent me some to figure out the method. But of course, I couldn’t. I’ve never seen anything like it. I have no idea how it happened.”

Alex took the bag. “Is this the last one?”

“I don’t know. It’s the only one she sent me.”

Alex studied it for a long moment. He didn’t look excited. One bag was better than nothing, but it couldn’t be enough to get anyone addicted, so Alex would have to come up with a new plan.

“Do you have to go save Jasper now?”

He checked his wristwatch. “The critical event isn’t for another ten hours.”

“So, um, there’s no rush? Or…”

“None.”

“Huh. Okay, great. What’s your plan?”

Alex looked at her politely. He apparently had no plan to rescue Jasper now that the coffee addiction one was a dud.

Maybe his other brothers were working on a plan. Maybe this was the backup to the backup plan. Yeah. That would make sense. It was crazy to think that coffee could matter that much to anyone, even a dragon.

“So, hey, we can get some lunch and take a nap.” Nicole reviewed Henrik’s letter one more time. “What a nightmare. Moira’s so focused on you being a serial cheater and sleeping with a fourteen-year-old.”

Henrik grimaced.

Nicole lowered the letter. “Did you sleep with a fourteen-year-old?”

“When I was fourteen!” He rocked on his knees, agitated. “We played a truth game when I first arrived. She asked me questions. I didn’t realize she was crazy, or I never would have done anything.”

“Done anything?” Nicole flipped to the middle, where Moira went on a three-page rant about how bad he was at sex. “Did you sleep with Moira?”

He blinked and then sat again and dropped his head in his hands. “I didn’t know she was crazy.”

“Did you know she was going to turn Faith against you?”

He dropped his hands and appealed to Nicole. “You understand! She promised Faith would never know, and the whole time, she planned it to prove I would be unfaithful.”

“And you were,” Alex said.

“But we weren’t married! Faith was on her night course all the time. Can I help it if I look like a Norwegian god?” He puffed his chest. Minus the dirt, grass, and tear stains, he looked like a fabled hero, all right. “I love women. Faith knew we were only dating.”

“Right, when you followed her to another continent and started a business together, I’m sure she thought it wasn’t serious,” Nicole said.

Alex tilted his head. “For humans, is that not serious?”

“I’m being sarcastic.”

Henrik crossed his arms. “Think what you want, but Moira terrorized me. I can’t even look at a woman now. Well, not one that’s petite with dark hair and crazy eyes.”

“Best to avoid the ones with crazy eyes,” Nicole agreed and folded up the letter. “So, in summary: You cheated on Faith, Moira set out to destroy you, you burned down the roastery to escape, and now the dragons are obsessed with an unreplicable dumpster-fire coffee. Am I missing anything?”

“Moira stole my—”

“And the illegal porn on your phone isn’t yours. Honestly, there might be a way to prove it, depending on how she did it. That stuff leaves a metadata trail. If you were out with another woman when she downloaded it to your phone at the apartment, then you’d have a witness to be your alibi.”

His eyes took on a new light. He rose. “Then you aren’t going to report me?”

“I’m not the police. And while you might be a danger to monogamy, I doubt you’re a danger to society.”

“Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He threw out his big arms to hug her.

Alex stepped between them. The look on his face froze Henrik. “I don’t forgive you.”

Henrik wilted. “But I’m sorry.”

“You cost me a million-dollar contract. I set up your former partners to be a roastery based on your lies.”

“That was Moira! She lied. Not me. She cost you the million dollars!”

“You did cause property damage,” Nicole said over Alex’s shoulder. “And you wasted the firefighters’ time. Someone could have been hurt.”

“What do you want from me?”

Alex glanced over his shoulder at Nicole and then focused on Henrik. “Promise you’ll never attempt to roast that blend again.”

“Never. I promise.”

Nicole added over Alex’s shoulder, “And promise me you’ll get therapy. Lots of it.”

Henrik nodded, less enthused. “I will.”

“I guess that’s it, then.” Her stomach rumbled. “Alex, you owe me sandwiches.”

Alex had a few more things. “Your grandparents have a small café here. When I came, I was prepared to destroy it and you. That did not happen for one reason.”

Henrik’s eyes darted to Nicole.

“Correct.” Alex smiled. “You owe Nicole breakfast.”

Alex watched Nicole consume the simple foods provided by Henrik.

She slid the cheese cutter across a brown wedge and centered it on heart-shaped waffles with a little jam. She slipped it between her lush lips and crunched, looked up to the right and left, then her dark brows lifted, and she swallowed. Excitement flashed over her narrow features.

“At first, I wasn’t sure, but then the salt mixes with the sweet, and it’s actually pretty good. And this coffee…” She swirled the wide mug where Henrik had pulled a shot for her. “He might be a serial cheater, but this espresso is magic. The crema is so rich and yet light, sweet and yet savory. I can’t describe it with any word except ‘perfect.’ And he roasted it himself in an old coffee canister in his grandparents’ barn. He has a gift.”

She sipped it again and then dug into the rest of the cheese, toasty bread, and sliced fresh tomatoes.

Alex listened with more interest than the conversation merited. The interplay of light and inspiration crossing Nicole’s open face was strangely addictive. Even though he was done with a physical inspection, he couldn’t look away.

“Aren’t you having anything?” she asked in the quiet.

“I’m keeping to the West Coast schedule.”

“Ah. Yeah. I guess if you can be anywhere on Earth in an hour, you have to make that choice.” She looked down at the food and laughed. “I’m going to be so messed up. I couldn’t turn down a Norwegian brunch. I’ll probably never get the chance to eat it again. And Henrik offered the guesthouse spa and bed.”

“Eat and sleep. I have other plans for this time.”

She sat up. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere. I need to think.” He tilted his head. “You expect trouble?”

She eyed Henrik.

He watched them back, nervous in their presence, and yet, when he glanced away to help another table, steadied his breaths and lowered his shoulders. Nicole had lifted a huge weight from his chest.

“As people say, ‘mistakes were made.’ But you did kind of threaten to burn the farm down, so I’d appreciate a friendly lookout, just in case.”

“You disapprove of my threat.”

“Well, you were supposed to buy me sandwiches, not threaten a dude for a free brunch.” She lifted a forkful of smoked fish. “Mm. This is delicious. Oh, I get that you were irritated. But you could have just asked.”

He rested his ankle on his knee.

Nicole had never noticed that he’d refused to agree to her terms. A male dragon did not offer a female anything unless he courted her. Alex was not courting Nicole. He was studying her. Therefore, he must not offer her food, shelter, or anything of value.

And he had completed yet another chapter of this mystery without identifying how Nicole calmed his heart.

His time was running out.

“I get you’re irritated,” she said, picking up on his feelings without having any idea of the origin. “I’d be irritated to fly all the way to Norway just to be told that the blend I needed was a fluke accident. Now how can you save Jasper?”

How empathetic.

Except for the last part. “What do you mean?”

“You can’t get anyone addicted with only a single bag of coffee,” she explained.

Ah. “Actually, most dragons find it addictive after a single sip.”

“No way! So at the ceremony you’re going to, you’re set?”

“Yes, for the ceremony, I only require a single shot.”

“Which you’ve got… Wait a minute. Only one shot? Then you had enough in that envelope you brought me!” She looked upset.

He had to reassure her. “It was critical that you accompany me on this journey to discover if he can source more.”

“I guess, if you wasted the last shot on me.” She blithely jumped from one wrong conclusion to another and snorted. “A dumpster fire! Can you believe it?”

He could.

His consultants had agreed that the blend was impossible to duplicate, so the significance of the warehouse fire and Moira’s odd tests had predisposed him to suspect the truth. He’d come here today not to secure a roaster to mass-produce the blend, but to confirm it could never be produced again.

But he’d gotten much more than a confirmation. As at the distributor, Nicole had revealed deceptions and explained their strange actions. His anger had dissipated like smoke into the atmosphere.

Somehow, the way she cut through the lies to the truth caused everyone relief. First Faith, then Moira, and now Henrik showed gratitude after revealing their deepest secrets.

His deepest nightmare was her magical cure.

How?

Her mysteries fascinated him.

“Ah,” Nicole sighed, returning him to the present. “I should have recorded this. Nobody will believe me, ever.”

“You wear a recorder.”

“I put it in life-logging mode. My sister, Tara, suggested it after I took forever editing the other videos. It takes a picture every thirty seconds, and at the end of the day, it’ll stitch together a movie I don’t have to edit. Of course, half the purpose of taking video is so that I can stop the gaslighting, but then again, the major source of that is gone from my life now, so maybe I don’t need it anyway.”

Her brown eyes were so bright, and a smile lit her face.

Something about her innocent joy flipped a switch in his heart.

A big, protective switch.

He needed to preserve her innocence.

No, no. He needed to teach her to conceal her innocence so that she would no longer be so vulnerable to injury.

“Maybe you should leave me here,” Nicole mused, and sipped the coffee.

“You want to remain in Norway?” A new sensation made his scales twitch. “With Henrik?”

“Henrik? Ha ha, no, thank you.”

The sensation abruptly relaxed. Yet another example of how Nicole calmed him. How strange.

“No, no. My house-sitting gig ends next week after my boss gets back from vacation. She won’t need me to sub at the café anymore either. I’ll be homeless and jobless again. And I’m really enjoying this pick-up-and-go adventure. I should be a traveling waitress or something. Be a roadie, write a book. Backpack around until I figure out what I want to do.”

How amazing to be so carefree. He couldn’t fathom her unguarded enthusiasm. Sharing her plans gave him the power to wreck them.

Her innocent trust tugged at his soul.

No, he would not teach her now. He simply listened. Teaching would come later. This moment was stolen in time.

She put down the empty cup and sighed. “So, what are you thinking about?”

“You.”

She blinked, and then a goofy grin made her look even more adorable. She put her hands over her face to hide it. “God! Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“My heart can’t take it.”

“Take what?”

She dropped her hands. “I’m sure, as a hot guy, you have people falling all over you, so knowing that we’re only friends makes you feel safe. But I’m not used to romantic gestures from anyone, much less a guy as rich, handsome, and put-together as you. If we’re not careful, I’m going to fall for you.”

Fall for him? She would fall in love with him?

Nicole slapped her palms to the table and pressed to her feet. “Henrik? Thanks for lunch! Where’s the guesthouse?”

Henrik pointed out the guesthouse from the café and quickly ducked back inside. Alex followed Nicole to the smaller outbuilding.

His senses were on fire.

Not the bad kind. But the kind where possibilities opened up around him, and the world looked both brighter and larger than it had only moments before.

Would she fall for him?

Could he make her?

He couldn’t deny the changes he’d seen in his siblings after they’d each claimed their mates. They’d been more capable, more competent, more balanced.

He would never claim a mate. Never.

But perhaps if he could make Nicole fall in love with him, he could access the benefits of the arrangement without the weaknesses.

Alex held up his hands to test if he felt differently in any other way. Becoming calm was a good start. Was her one-sided desire the reason she soothed him? He needed every advantage on the next mission. The vital mission that began after he rescued Jasper.

Nicole opened the door and exclaimed. “Oh my God! This is so cute.”

She unzipped her boots and hopped onto one of the fluffy beds, hugged the pillow to her chest, and became the embodiment of cute.

A strange pulsing sensation thudded in Alex’s chest and sank lower, into his cock.

No, no. He pushed the urges away, tried to ignore the hard warmth on his thigh. Thinking of mates confused him. He would think of them no more.

Nicole stood and twirled, then checked out the fixtures of the room, the bathroom, and the small mirror. She ruffled her hair, frowned at the result, stuck her tongue out at her own image, and returned to the bed. Getting in fully clothed, she pulled the blanket up to her shoulders and snuggled. “Night! Or morning? I can’t tell, ha ha. Have a good think.”

“I will.” He escaped outside and sat on the weathered bench beside the door until the pressure in his extremities went down.

How rare.

He leaned against the hard wood siding and closed his eyes.

If Nicole activated some calming superpower within him simply by her presence—because she fell for him—then that would mean there was nothing to learn from her. His study could stop now.

But that path led to a dark conclusion.

He would have to take Nicole with him.

Her presence could alter his mission. After he chased off Adviser Wrathmoda, new dragons would come to claim Earth. Only Alex could stop them. His mission required him to voyage into the deadliest dragon’s den, and that den was lined with sharp teeth.

Yet if he left Nicole behind on Earth, she might become one of the many victims…

A sharp clawing sensation stabbed his chest.

Nicole could not activate any powers. He was misreading her. She’d said she might fall for him, which meant she did not currently experience the mating bond. A mate was a weakness. If he relied on her presence to maintain his calm, then, mate or not, she could be his weakness.

He could never allow that.

He would sit here and think his situation through until he knew without a doubt that she wasn’t his mate, she didn’t affect him, and furthermore, he wasn’t at risk around her.

He had no weaknesses.

Nicole amused him. She had a great habit of catching people off guard. He simply enjoyed watching her startle his enemies. That was the source of her power.

Fascination over, urges contained, calm assured.

He no longer needed Nicole.

After Nicole awoke from her nap, Alex returned her to the West Coast and stowed the small transport at their office building. She wanted to see the reception, and so he obliged, but even before Adviser Wrathmoda arrived, Nicole developed a bad mood and demanded to be taken home.

He dropped her off at her boss’s brownstone and stepped back. “Farewell, Nicole.”

“Wait.” Dark circles formed under Nicole’s eyes. She looked tired in the midday sun, and bitter anger twisted her lips. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

“I hope you enjoyed our time together.”

“No, no. About Jasper and the coffee. You know? The time you lied.”

“Which time?”

Her eyes widened. “There’s more than one?”

He made a show of checking his watch. Ice flowed in his veins. “If I lied, it was for your benefit. Why do you care now?”

“I always cared! I told you before we started this trip that I wanted the truth.”

“Actually, you—”

“No, Alex. I refuse to be gaslit, and I refuse to live dishonestly. The truth will free you, and all I want is to be treated with honesty.”

“You don’t want that,” he promised her.

She crossed her arms. “Try me.”

He stared at her for a long, hard moment.

Even with her anger hot, she was adorable. And vulnerable. She threatened to be his weakness, but, worse than that, she was a weakness to herself.

The cold stirred. “Very well. You did me a favor, so I will teach you a lesson.”

She raised a brow.

“You are naïve. The truth frees no one. The person who most ardently says they want the truth is the first to hide from it.”

“Okay, this is a little too existential for me. You told me that coffee was necessary to save Jasper’s life.”

“That was true.”

“But you convinced me to confront the roasters and fly all the way to Norway, at midnight, when you already knew where Jasper had another bag of coffee!”

“I never said I was seeking more coffee to save his life.”

Her mouth dropped. “Yes, you did!”

“Check your video camera. I only ever said that it could be used to obtain control over his potential future wife, and that dragons can become addicted after a single shot. You fabricated the rest on your own.”

“You knew what I thought.”

“I’m not responsible for your thoughts, Nicole. I did you the courtesy of attempting to follow your convoluted demands, and in the end, it seems, even that doesn’t satisfy.”

She looked down.

A small pain squeezed his chest.

No. She was not his weakness.

“Stop being so vulnerable,” he ordered. “I can almost see your heart beating in your thin, unguarded chest. An enemy could easily tear it out with a few words. They wouldn’t even have to be particularly vicious.”

“I…”

“What?”

“I know!” She snapped her head up. Tears glistened in her dark eyes. She sniffed and rubbed the back of her hand across her nose. “God. What was the point of therapy if the first time somebody’s mean to me, I break down? I’m so disappointed in myself.”

“So change.”

“No.”

He hadn’t heard right. “No? Someone will hurt you. Many people. And if you leave yourself defenseless, you deserve to be hurt.”

She shook her head.

“Yes, Nicole.” He found her hand, drew the cold appendage to his chest, squeezed. “I will train you. You will become a fortress, a weapon. Others will confide in you, and you will take their secrets, yet reveal nothing.”

“I don’t want that.”

“It doesn’t matter what you want. It is necessary to survive.”

“No.” She pushed him back, warding him off, and yanked her hands free.

The cold shifted in his heart. Warm magma rose up, and the temperatures intermixed, causing an impossible reverse pressure. He’d tried to help her, and she’d turned it around on him. Nothing made sense, and yet everything was her fault.

“You’ve learned nothing,” he said. “You love weakness. You want to damage yourself. To be damaged. That’s a sickness.”

She sniffled.

Dangerous anger rose in his body, not at her, but at himself. Why had he tried to help her? She was just like the rest and preferred to be childish and ignorant while he bore the burden alone.

“You have no survival skills. When your world ends, you will be the first to die.”

“At least I’d die honest.”

“Who cares about honesty? Dead is dead!” He snarled. “Why are the humans on this planet so stupid?”

“Don’t you dare call me that.”

“But you are. Stupid, naïve, helpless—”

“Stop.” She held up a hand, took a deep, shaky breath, and let it out. “This is a teachable moment, like you said, but I refuse your so-called lesson. I am perfect. You’re the one who’s trying to use my insecurities to hurt me. I made a mistake in letting you get close enough to care about your opinion, and that isn’t my fault. I am openhearted. Sometimes, people will take advantage of that, but someday,” her eyes teared up again, “I’ll find the people who will love me just the way I am.”

“And those people will die too.” He shook his head, anger mixing with disgust. “Fine. Stay weak, Nicole. I would not extend this offer again even if you begged.”

“Great, thanks.” She took a deep breath and let it out, still shaky, but the fists she made were triumphant, strong. “Go deceive someone else, Alex. I hope your perfect nose falls off and your ugly outside matches what’s within.”

Nicole turned and stormed up the stairs, went in the house, and slammed the door.

“My insides are perfect!” he shouted at the closed door. “You’re the one who needs to see reality! You think I’ll change my mind? I won’t come back!”

A passerby looked at him calling out like a crazy person on the stoop.

He was out of control.

A split second without her presence, and he was splintering. Enraged.

He flew directly up, crazy thoughts whirling.

Where was Adviser Wrathmoda? He wanted to ram her.

No, no.

This was crazy. He had to get himself under control. The universe needed him.

He had to get his revenge.

Alex banked toward the Onyx Corporation building. He would overcome this. Somehow.

* * *

By the end of the day, Jasper and his mate had successfully defeated Adviser Wrathmoda, and the danger of losing him passed.

Alex’s next mission loomed large.

For three days, he fought to control his anger.

He had to conquer his rage.

If he couldn’t, he would lose his chance for revenge.

Lose his chance to save his siblings and Earth.

Lose everything.

And three full days later, he fidgeted at the control panel in his secret lair and only half listened to the youngest Onyx sibling, Flint, detail the mission one more time.

“As we discussed, now that Adviser Wrathmoda is gone, Earth is again a tempting target for a ruthless dragon family.” Flint’s owl-like gray eyes looked huge in his dragon face. He was a small dragon, but oddly wise. “And the next family will not offer marriage, set up a company, or keep up the terms of the Dragon-Human Treaty. They will invade, conquer, and take.”

Alex already knew that.

Anger seethed beneath his skin.

“Scouts for the Ironstone fleet left Draconis space,” Flint continued. “They will arrive at Earth in hours. You—”

“And they will find a fight,” Alex snapped. “I told the other dragon families on Earth. Their ships are standing by.”

“A few, yes, but as you know, the rest of the Ironstone fleet will join the scouts after the Ironstone family’s all-important Triple Crown celebration. The show of force will drive off the lesser families. Unless we activate a dragon house with an important fleet, no one locally can defeat Ironstone.” Flint looked down at the strategy board in front of him. Small pieces represented fleets, generals, and planets. “You know what you have to do.”

Alex gritted his teeth. “Of course I know.”

Flint’s gray eyes flicked up to him and hardened. “Your anger. You haven’t controlled it?”

“I have. I will.”

“No, Alex. If you cannot control it, stay on Earth. I will figure out another strategy.” Flint’s jaw flexed. They both knew alternate strategies would cause more bloodshed and put Earth squarely in the firing line. “You did not secure your female? The one you said in our last meeting soothed you?”

“She is not my female. And her security is… She would be in more danger with me than here on Earth.”

“No one will be safe when the fleet arrives. If we do not stop the ground invasion and our worst fears come to pass, she will die alone without any protection.”

A new fire lit in Alex’s chest. “Nicole is on the evacuation list. She’s Darcy’s sister. She’ll be evacuated.”

“Darcy and Amber are far from Earth. Will our remaining brothers prioritize her safety over their own mates? Will she agree to evacuate if she could stay and fight?”

Nicole could have a skill. She had so many surprising sides that Kyan or the others might identify one to use. And she would stay and fight. She was exactly that crusader type.

Alex’s hands shook. “I’ll stay and make it work on Earth.”

“You won’t get your revenge.”

“I…”

“Fine.” Flint reached to shut off the screen.

“Wait!” Alex curled his hands into fists. Five years of planning. An entire lifetime of fury. “I’ll bring her with me.”

“Are you sure?”

No. He wasn’t sure.

Flint’s brows lifted, and he chuckled. “What am I saying? You won’t believe me, but I know exactly how you feel right now.”

“I doubt that.”

“As I said.” His lips twisted, sardonic. “Must you put your mate in danger to potentially save the Empire, Earth, and the universe? Or leave her in a position where she might be killed and you have no chance to protect her? It’s a choice no dragon should make. If we have to, most of us would choose one thing.”

Protection.

Alex glared at Flint. “I am not most dragons.”

“That’s why you’re the only one who can accomplish the next step. Collect your female, Alex. You have one hour.”

Hi, guys! It’s Nicole again. Thanks for tuning in to my fourth life-blog video.

First of all, I want to apologize for some of the things I said in the last video.

Alex was a total jerk to me, but the truth is you come across jerks all your life, and the only thing you can control is how you deal with them.

And I am never ever ever going to see Alex again, so I have to forget he exists and live out a fabulous true-to-me life.

If he comes into the café to apologize for the totally uncalled-for gaslighting he tried to do to me, that’s up to him.

I will not tolerate gaslighting.

The next time I hear it, I’ll just drop my bag in the street and scream.

My mom was the queen of making up the past to fit her current situation.

Like, one year, I was sick and got left out of the family Christmas photo. Later, Mom said that never happened. When I insisted, she said if I got off on imagining that she excluded me from super important moments like the annual family Christmas photo, I should get therapy to deal with my delusions.

Spoiler alert: When I actually got therapy, she was not pleased.

Anyway, years later in high school, I went through the photo boxes to make a collage, and there were all the family Christmas photos. Only I wasn’t left out of one Christmas photo. I was left out of like five, from year two until after I was age seven. There’s my mom, my dad, Jackie, Darcy, and Tara all grinning in their matching red-and-green holiday outfits, year after year. Some of them even included our family dog, this sweet golden named Luno. But not me.

So I confronted Mom with the photos, and she just looked at me. Not angry, but in a “So what?” type of way.

I said, “I told you there was a year when I wasn’t in the Christmas photos.”

And she went off. Like a volcano erupted. I was always spending the night at a friend’s house and she couldn’t schedule around me, or I’d refused to be in the photos and she hadn’t made me. Then she began crying. She couldn’t please me, and nothing she did was ever good enough.

Um, okay? You excluded me from the family Christmas photos for five years, lied about it, and I just called you out, and now you’re the victim here?

But because this was pre-therapy, I crumpled like a used-up napkin and said that wasn’t true, she was a great mom, and basically, I had to hug her and apologize to her for what she did to me.

By the way, when I asked my dad about it later, he got quiet and said, “You know your mom…”

Which, honestly, just means that he didn’t stand up for me. Nobody did. My whole family dressed up for Christmas and put a bow on the family dog, and nobody ever once stopped and said, “Hey, where’s Nicole?”

You might think this is a stupid thing to get upset about, but it’s really only the tip of the jar of ice cubes.

My mom’s been doing this to me for my whole life. Before you say I’m too dramatic and you don’t believe me, here are the big examples:

She took the rest of the family to Disneyland. Twice. The first time, I was supposedly too young to go, and the second time, there was only enough savings to take three kids.

Everybody got a high school activity, and she went to every game, dressed up in team colors, had parties and snacks, you name it. Darcy got soccer and Little League, Tara did dance, Jackie did dressage, of all things. But when I wanted to join band, my mom said I wasn’t musical and refused to sign the permission slip.

She helped everyone pay for college except me. Her reason was grades, even though mine were better than Darcy’s, and when he pointed that out, she then said it was because I didn’t have a clear-enough vision for what I was going to do with my degree. It was an art school with a focus on clothing design. Our family owned a trousseau lingerie business. I was literally going to learn to design lingerie.

So, yeah, you can imagine I’ve gone over this a few sessions in therapy.

I’ve always wondered what was so wrong with me. Why did everyone else have a great childhood with a loving, super-engaged, kind mom and yet mine, in a word, sucked?

Mom told me to my face that she wished she’d stopped at three, and then to strangers she’d gush that she’d always planned to have four kids and her life would be complete. So she always wanted a fourth kid, but she just wished that fourth kid hadn’t been me.

Obviously, I’m still trying to get over that.

And I have a very low tolerance for people saying I shouldn’t get so upset about something, or I should have a thicker skin for cruelty. No, I shouldn’t. Screw unkind people. The world deserves kindness, and the one who needs to change is the jerk who thinks it’s fine to be horrible, not the people he’s horrible to.

That’s right, Alex. I’m talking to you.

Of course, you’re probably not one of my twenty viewers or two subscribers. So I’ll never have the chance to say it to you.

Was I the only one having fun solving a mystery? As Nicole Drew, I focused on the mystery of the missing coffee roaster, when I should have noticed the bigger mystery right beside me all along. The mystery of the missing dragon heart. Oh, no, wait. How does a dragon fly when he’s weighed down by such a monumental dick? Hmm, I have to workshop this joke.

That’s sad ,but whatever.

I’ll never ever agree to help you.

Not again.

* * *

Despite Nicole telling Alex—and YouTube—in no uncertain terms that she was perfect just the way she was, she’d had two emergency therapy sessions and was still plagued by doubts.

If everyone she met and took a risk on treated her badly, didn’t that mean by definition that she was the problem?

She was the one who kept choosing to bring those people into her life.

Which meant she had to make a radical change somehow. Bring totally different people into her life.

“I would love for you to be our roadie!” The bassist grinned wide over the counter when Nicole asked about the position. “Do you play? Or just love our music?”

“I want a change,” Nicole said honestly. And anyone who tipped fives for a regular, no matter how obscure, could clearly afford to travel in a reasonable style.

The smile faded, and the bassist fumbled a flier out of her purse. “Why don’t you come to one of our shows tonight and see what you think? The ticket’s on me. Give your name at the door.”

“I’ve got a pretty good tolerance for punk.”

“ElectroniCelt isn’t for everyone.” The bassist grinned. “But if we’re for you, then you’re welcome.”

She was so confident. Nicole craved that sort of certainty in her life. She took the flier, thanked her, and turned to the next customer.

Faith stepped up to the counter.

Shock gave way to a horrible heat. Their meeting would forever be tainted by the fact that she’d been there with Alex, stupidly trusting him, and that was before she considered everything else. “What can I get started for you?”

“Nothing.” Faith brushed her elbows at the chill of the air-conditioning after the heat outside and tugged her bandana. She had a hard time meeting Nicole’s gaze. “I was just wondering. Did you have a minute?”

There wasn’t a line. Nicole cleared the brief break with Brian, snagged her water bottle—had to hydrate—and carried her necklace to the table closest to the counter. “I’m recording, by the way.”

“What? Oh.” Faith stared at the tiny camera. “Are you trying to trap me?”

“Like you trapped Henrik? No. The guy I was with gaslit me, and I will not be lied to. Never again. So that’s the warning. I’m not with the cops, I’m not wearing a wire, and I don’t care about any of the Dragon Coffee drama. It was a dumpster fire. Literally.”

Faith blanched and hunched in. “So, you know.”

“What Henrik said, yeah.” She relayed the short version.

Faith closed her eyes and nodded that it was all true. “Alex canceled the contract. We have to pay back everything.”

“I can’t help with that.”

“No…” She squared her shoulders and seemed to force herself to meet Nicole’s gaze. “I have to tell you my side so you’ll understand.”

“Do you think I misunderstood?”

Faith frowned. “But if you understand, you’ll forgive me.”

Nicole twisted the small butterfly ring on her right ring finger. “I’m a stranger. You don’t need my forgiveness.”

“I know, but I can’t let you think I’m like that.”

“What I think doesn’t matter. What you need is therapy.”

“He just made me believe that I could be somebody more important than I am.” Faith’s gaze pleaded for understanding. “He said he loved me. He said I was the light of his life, his North Star, the person he’d follow across continents and oceans. And when I found out that he said that kind of thing to everyone, I just…”

“You felt stupid.”

“I tried to kill myself.” Faith stared at the tabletop. “If he didn’t see anything in me, I didn’t see anything in myself. Moira found me and went a little crazy. I know it was wrong.”

“Do you still have his phone and passport?”

“Moira does.”

“Delete the phone, mail the passport back to him, and never contact him again. And therapy. Get lots of therapy.”

Faith frowned. “You think I’m a monster.”

“I think you’re halfway to a Lifetime movie, but like I said, it doesn’t matter what I think.”

“But if you just understand—”

“Look, what do you want me to say?”

Faith rolled her lips. She must not know.

Right.

The door blinged. A crowd entered for the midmorning rush.

Nicole stood. “I can’t say the right thing to you because I’m a barista, not a psychologist, and I don’t know what you need to hear to get closure. You made some regrettable choices. Mistakes were made. Get therapy.” She moved behind the counter.

Faith followed her along the bakery case. “Because—”

“I don’t want to hear your justifications, okay? I stayed in a very toxic relationship for, oh, all my life and believe me, I’ve heard everything you’re about to say, because I said it to myself.”

Faith blinked, then pouted her lips in sympathy. “Did he hit you?”

“It wasn’t a he, and you don’t have to have scars on the outside to be damaged.” Nicole held Faith’s gaze until she was certain the woman knew the conversation was over, then she stepped in to help the next customer.

It was Alex.

Her body flushed hot and cold and hot again. She gripped the counter.

Shades concealed his eyes, and his suit wasn’t as crisp as usual. But otherwise, the perfect hair and cheekbones that could cut glass should have tipped off the entire café that a dragon walked among them. She’d gotten no warning. No warning whatsoever.

He smiled coldly. “Dragons have to be damaged on the outside to be considered scarred.”

His voice made little shivers go up and down her spine.

She hated herself for reacting like this. The more someone abused her, the more she was drawn to appease them and win back their favor.

Never again.

Nicole tightened her core and gritted her teeth. “You’ve got a lot of nerve.”

His smile sharpened like a blade.

She tried to keep the tremor in her belly from reaching her voice. “What do you want?”

“Americano. Bitter.”

She almost asked him how much he’d had to drink that day, and her tongue tripped over itself not asking that question.

She punched the register keys and read off the total, wrote his name in choppy Sharpie on the to-go cup, and refused to take his payment until he set the bills on the counter. Then she dropped his change, didn’t pick up the dimes and pennies that rolled away, and made the coffee, heart racing like she’d shotgunned five espressos. She tilted the basket the wrong way as she washed it out and splashed scalding water on her fingers, which only pissed her off more. She hadn’t burned herself since her first week.

Nicole set the cup on the pickup counter. “Americano.”

He collected it with an inhuman grace. “And to talk.”

“Feel free. The café’s open.” She turned away.

“Hey.”

She whirled back. “The money entitles you to coffee, and the public café entitles you to talk. It doesn’t require me to listen.”

“It’s important.”

“Did the world end? Because I’m pretty sure the last time we ‘talked,’ you said that you would never see me again, not even if the world was ending. So.” She looked around the café, at the impatient line Brian was serving all by himself, at the ordinary September weather. “Did I miss it?”

His jaw flexed.

“Okay, I have to go. Goodbye—”

“You missed it.”

She stopped midturn. “Missed what?”

“The world ended for you five years ago, when dragons first landed. You didn’t notice. In a few short minutes—under an hour—the borders around Earth will close. No one in, no one out. No way to stop what’s coming.”

He was serious.

Even when he’d been angry or irritated, even when he’d torn the doors off the track or chased down Henrik, he’d appeared at ease. Now he was rigid, like he was forced to share a truth he didn’t want to publicize.

Unease seeped like ice into her spine. “What’s coming?”

“Devastation.”

She hugged her elbows. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you can stop it.”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. If you come with me.” He held out his hand for her to take. “Right now.”

* * *

Nicole’s face gave everything away.

She distrusted him. She doubted him. She was hurt and angry.

And she was still attracted to him, despite her misplaced anger.

He’d tried to help her before. He’d given her the truth she claimed to desire, and then she’d flipped right around and been angry, like he’d known she would be. He should have lied then. It would have made this moment easier.

But she’d requested the truth, and so he’d broken his own rules and told her.

“Nicole?” The tattooed male barista worked the espresso machine and jerked his chin at the line of humans congregating for their coffee. “A little help here?”

She looked back at Alex, torn.

“Right now,” Alex repeated, and flexed his hand.

If she didn’t come with him now, he would have to force the issue. He would—

“If the world is ending,” Nicole told Alex, “I want to go to my family’s house.”

Would there be enough time? He would make there be enough time. “Fine.”

She stared at him for a long, terrible moment, then let out a quick breath and untied her apron. “I’m sorry, Brian. I have a family emergency.”

Brian’s eyes widened. “You what?”

“My dragon brother-in-law here is having…something…and I’ve got to go.”

“Wait, you’re related to that guy?”

“It’s a long story. Call the boss.”

He looked down at his occupied hands, then the line. “How?”

“I’m sorry.” She hung up her apron, swung her messenger bag over her shoulder, and followed Alex to the café doorway, which they had to navigate with the customers pushing in, forming a several-customer-deep line.

She placed her trusting hand on Alex’s forearm. “You’re going to get me fired.”

“You didn’t want to keep this job anyway.” He rocketed into the air.

“And I just got accepted to be a roadie. The band’s first show is tonight.”

“You’ll have to skip it.”

She tightened her grip and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her firm breasts against his bicep. “That doesn’t make leaving Brian and the boss in the lurch okay. If this is all a ‘misunderstanding’ like the Dragon Coffee, I’m never going to trust anything you say again.”

His chest rumbled with the irony.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

“No, not nothing. You have to tell me why you laughed. And the truth. And you are responsible for my thoughts, especially if you see me jumping to the wrong conclusion, Alex. I helped you in good faith last time, and you abused my trust. I’m not going to do it again. So tell me, what?”

“You’re not going to believe me.”

“Sure, I will.”

He dropped down to the grass in the backyard of her family’s house. “I laughed because you’re the only one I’ve ever told the truth.”

Her large brown eyes fixed on him for a long, electrifying moment, and then she stepped back. “You’re right. I don’t believe you.”

He accepted that with a shrug. He was no Flint, but he was certainly used to being right. “We have to leave in five minutes.”

Nicole turned away from him and faced her family’s home.

When he’d landed in this exact spot over a month ago at the behest of his sister, Amber, the house had been an ordinary human dwelling with unusual architectural flourishes. Two floors, a turret attached to one side, a koi pond, an attractive garden with pergola.

But the turret had burned down, and the remainder of the house was cordoned off. Char scented the air. The garden had dried, and the grass had grown brittle.

Bits of stained white gauze and singed streamers remained of the wedding decorations. A few paper game boards congratulating the wedding of Tara and Ed littered the dry brush.

Nicole pulled on the sliding glass door. It didn’t move. She stepped back and looked up at the ruined second floor, then shook her head. “Can you fly me up to the tarp?”

He did so.

She ducked under the tarp and squished down the stairs. The carpet was mostly dry, but pools of brackish water warped the wood and gave off a fetid stench. The house emitted an unsettled creak.

In the dim hall beneath the stairs, Nicole flicked the light switch.

Nothing happened.

She looked up in surprise, then grimaced and continued down the dark hall, stepping carefully between broken family portraits and shattered glass.

Nicole entered the first door on the left and stood in the center of a bedroom. Basic sheets, ratty furnishings, a torn and taped unicorn color-by-number on the wall.

She snorted. “I forgot how tiny it was.”

“It is smaller than your last living space.”

“My boss’s brownstone? Yeah, that’s for sure. But it’s also the smallest room in this house. It’s a converted closet. My mom moved me down here in middle school so she could make over my old bedroom into a family room for Darcy, Tara, and Jackie.”

Nicole picked up a few things on the dresser—a single black sock, a lace wrist gauntlet, and a couple of loose buttons—and put them back. “I don’t know what I was expecting to find here. I got everything I wanted after the fire. I guess I was just thinking that if the Earth melted down tomorrow, this was all I had left. But it’s already gone.”

“Then we should leave.” He exited the bedroom.

She came out a moment later and led him through the house and out the kitchen sliding door, leaving it unlocked behind her. “Okay, I guess we can go to the brownstone. My boss is due back today, so my stuff is mostly in suitcases already.”

“There’s no time.” He stepped forward to pick her up.

She stepped back, hands out. “What do you mean, there’s no time?”

“There was no time to come here, and yet I gave you five minutes. We must go.”

She blinked rapidly. “How long am I going to be gone?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll need a change of clothes.”

“It is already provided for.”

She held up a finger. “If you got me one frilly pink thing, I’ll wear this outfit until it falls off.”

“You only wear dark dresses, leggings, and combat boots. I operate an intergalactic clothier. This I know.”

Her eyes narrowed with mistrust. “You still haven’t told me what I’m going to do.”

“I will tell you on the way.”

She looked back at the burned-up house behind her, then crossed her arms at Alex. “You think I’m naïve. I make myself vulnerable when I should be on the defensive. Suddenly, I agree with you.”

An alarm beeped on his dragon cell phone.

They didn’t have time for this.

“Just like before?” Nicole asked, still angry. “When I listened, I was sucked in—suckered in—and in the end? You wrinkled your perfect brows and said I was naïve and stupid.”

He shut off the alarm. “That was a mistake.”

“Which part?” she demanded, furious. “Which part was a mistake? The part where you said the way to save your brother was getting a super-rare bag of coffee, or the part where I believed you?”

Another truth was dislodged from his clutches. “I needed the second bag.”

“For what?”

“I’ll tell you on the ship.”

“Sure you will. I was so happy to help you.” She shook her head, angry tears springing to her eyes. “And I won’t be stupid like that again. Okay?”

His heart thudded in his throat. He knew where this was going. Somehow, he knew. “I never promised to be open like you are.”

“I have that expectation for my friends.”

“We are not friends.”

“Oh, right. We’re family.” She swiped the tears. “But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not going anywhere with you until you promise to be open. About everything! Promise.”

“You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking. Promise me!”

He felt on fire with her. She was so herself and so beautiful, vulnerable, like a fragile flame he had to shelter so she was never quenched.

How had he thought to leave her behind?

And how could he take her where he was going?

He set his jaw. “I promise to be open with my friends.”

“Okay.” She straightened and smoothed her messenger bag. “That’s more like it. Because yes, we are family, but we can also be friends.”

“No.”

She looked up. “I’m sorry?”

Alex struggled for a few seconds. She said she wanted honesty. He didn’t give that to anyone. But… “I don’t see you as a friend.”

“You don’t?” Hurt crossed her features.

He stepped forward, caught her elbows, and pulled her against him. “I need you.”

“Yeah, you said. You need me to save the world.”

“I need you to become mine.”

“Yours?”

Conflicting emotions passed over Nicole’s face. Confusion and doubt. But most important? The flare of desire.

Her clear gaze focused on his lips, and she wetted her own. “I don’t understand.”

Alex lowered his head and covered her lips in his kiss.

Her lips parted under his pressure, and their tongues met, danced, as their mouths became one. She melted into his embrace. He cupped her in his protective arms.

She tasted like sweetness, frothy milk coffee, and a hot sliver of truth that cut him to the core.

If she was in danger of falling for him, he had to push her over the edge.

Because they had no more time.

To actually be worthy of her purity, he’d have to unmake himself.

And that would never happen.

But so long as she accompanied him right now, he might someday try.

His alarm beeped again, more urgently.

He pulled back.

Her lashes fluttered. Her lips were redder, flushed, and she touched them with her fingers. Wonder brightened her tone. “You kissed me.”

“Yes.” Alex silenced his alarm and sent a few quick orders.

“But we’re not even friends.”

“Correct.”

“And you kissed me.”

“Also true.” He clamped his hand around her arm and lifted.

She squeezed her eyes shut and clung. “Alex!”

“I’ve got you.” He zoomed north at molecule-melting speed. “Trust me.”

She remained silent for the few minutes it took him to cross the state and descend into his lair. The sun was swallowed as he disappeared into the narrow tunnels. He flew more carefully, even though they had little time, and banked the sharp corners with all his concentration on sheltering the fragile human female. She vibrated with a combination of what he guessed was frustration, anger, and fear.

“You dislike flying,” he noted.

“You noticed,” she ground out. “And our conversation isn’t finished.”

“Good.”

He passed his bunker and flew directly into the small spaceship. A simple courier drone, it was the kind of ship that would pass most stop points, but it was not designed to be comfortable by dragon standards. It was already packed with everything he needed. He released Nicole in the small vestibule, squeezed over the seats to the control panel, and selected their destination.

“What is this place?” she demanded.

“Our ride.”

The engine started with a rattle, and the ship jumped a foot up, knocking Nicole to the floor.

Alex gripped the seat. “Hang on.”

“Thanks for the warning!” Her voice held an edge.

“You’re welcome.”

The ship shuddered and zoomed down the very same tunnels, the auto navigator taking them with much higher speeds than he had, banking hard. Nicole rolled across the floor and shrieked.

“I told you to hang on,” Alex called.

“I thought you meant before!”

The drone banked the opposite direction. Nicole slid across the floor and banged her elbow against the wall. She cried out.

He dropped onto her and held her in place against the floor, his body covering hers, while the drone popped out of its hiding place, banked hard yet again, and burned out of the atmosphere.

“I thought your dragon technology was advanced, and flying was as effortless as reversing gravity,” she said, her cheek mushed into the grating.

He murmured the answer into her ear. “This is a basic model. It’s not intended for important passengers.”

She glanced back at him and then fell silent.

Her body was warm and pliant beneath his. Her curves undulated against his hard planes like the swell of an ocean, and her black hair fanned over her shoulders like a dark halo. Her scent—espresso, char, and feminine musk—twined in his nose, and the longer he pressed against her, the more intensely her feminine scent called to him. A low throb pulsed in his veins, awakening him. He wanted to nuzzle her hair, bite the small aristocratic piercings adorning her shell ear, grind his hardening cock between her soft thighs. Tip her jaw toward him and cover her mouth with his.

Arousal shuddered through him.

He had been aroused in his life, but never like this. Like the anger, it bubbled out of control, and yet like everything about Nicole, it fascinated and soothed his mind. He wanted more contact.

A lock of hair crossed her cheek.

He collected it, touching her cheek with his gentlest touch, and tucked it behind her ear.

She closed her eyes and sighed.

He hardened into gemstone. If she pressed back against him even the slightest, she would know. He would explode.

The drone steadied.

Nicole opened her eyes. “Okay. Let me up.”

“Not yet.”

She sucked in a deep breath. Her nostrils flared. “Why not?”

“Because we haven’t passed the interference zone yet.”

The floor fell away beneath them.

He wrapped her in his embrace and got his arm under her head so that an instant later, when they slammed back into the floor, she was sheltered.

She made an oof.

A terrible screeching filled the space, and the drone shook, rattling so hard, the rivets started coming out.

He held her tighter. A drone this old could fall apart, especially once the warships projecting the interference reached full power.

Nicole could not survive coming apart in space.

The screech increased in pitch until it felt like his teeth would fall out.

Then it ceased.

His whole body ached and also hummed, and the air felt soft, as if they had been wrapped in cotton.

He risked letting Nicole down onto the floor and flying over to check the coordinates.

“Well, that was horrible.” Nicole eased into a sitting position, rotated her head and neck, and groaned. “What’s the interference zone?”

“It is how dragons close a border in advance of an invasion.”

She joined him at the control panel. “Earth is being invaded?”

“It was inevitable.”

“Can I see?”

“See?”

“Outside.”

He brought up the view on the other side of the wall. A billion stars glittered.

“Where’s Earth?” she asked.

He changed the viewpoint to a different field and pointed at a tiny smudge. “There.”

She squinted. “I can’t believe I went to outer space, and I missed everything.”

“Everything?”

“The moon, Jupiter, the sun, the curve of the Earth. Everything!”

“If Earth is still there when I complete the mission, we’ll sightsee.”

“If!”

He stretched. “We have a few hours until we reach my mother’s estate. Did you want to sleep?”

“How can I sleep?” She followed him to the couch, where he relaxed with an ankle across his knee, and she paced, incredulous. “You can’t invade. We have the treaty!”

“A treaty is only enforceable if all parties can enforce it. A new Empress will have more to worry about than a resource-poor backwater planet on the edge of the Empire.”

“We have to warn people. The military. The UN. Tell the president!”

“They are aware. They have always been aware that those with power can use it against those without…unless they prove themselves useful.”

“So we’re no longer useful? That’s so messed up. You all need to go back to kindergarten. Or get serious therapy.”

Again ordering therapy. “What is this ‘therapy’?”

“Huh? Oh, it’s where you tell someone your problems and get help working through them.”

“So like a military adviser.”

“No, no, mental and emotional problems. Like if you’re a cold, heartless sociopath who thinks it’s totally fine to invade a planet that’s just minding its own business not hurting anyone. In therapy, you can learn how to be a decent human being, or at least pretend.”

“Why do I need to be human? Your values appear to be useless to a dragon.”

She held up her fingers. “Justice? Fairness? Kindness? Those are useless to a dragon?”

He enjoyed this banter. She was getting upset, and all he felt was soothed. “Is it fair for an unproductive species to occupy resources when a more productive species could make use of them?”

She dropped her hand with a thump and blew air out of her mouth. “You’ve basically just described the whole philosophy of colonialism. Ugh.” She ran a hand through her hair. “It’s wrong to hurt others to get what you want. That’s the Golden Rule. And if you’ve had a bad childhood or something that taught you it was okay, then you have to talk to a licensed, certified therapist to help you work through it.”

“Where do you ‘work through’ to? What is your destination?”

“Being a happier, more well-adjusted person, of course.”

“I can’t picture what you’re describing.”

“Okay, it’s like this.” She sat on the couch and tilted her knees in his direction. “Imagine I’m a therapist, and you’re a gorgeous but sick, twisted man. We’re about to have a privileged conversation. Oh!” She shut off the recorder at her neck and set it on the table. “So what we say here stays here, private, unless you want to share it. Now you say something that’s bothering you.”

“It bothers me that you’re over there.” He pulled her onto his lap. She was soft and the perfect size, the perfect everything. His heart quieted. He closed his eyes and nestled his head against her. “Much better.”

She sat in his lap for a long moment. Then she cleared her throat. “This isn’t normally part of therapy. You talk out your problems. Like your anger that you never felt until recently.”

“I don’t feel angry around you. You get angry on my behalf. I find you soothing.” He squeezed her.

“That’s… Why do you think that is?”

“Probably because you’re a human who can’t rip me apart if I anger you.”

“I hope I wouldn’t do that even if I were capable of it. Why didn’t you get angry before? What changed?”

“Instead of meticulously planning the fall of all my enemies, I started to want a quick fix. This is the fault of my brothers. They’re enormously irritating, and yet I can’t plot their downfall. They’re not important enough to have anything worthwhile to lose.”

“Messed up,” she murmured.

“You asked for honesty. Normally, I would not reveal this even under threat of torture.”

“Well, therapy is about figuring out things for yourself. Your therapist is just supposed to listen and offer suggestions or insight.”

“And great comfort.” He hugged her.

She was silent again for some time. Then she let out her breath in a gust. “Okay, I have to ask. You’re hugging me like this, but I told you I didn’t want to date anyone.”

“That’s fine. I don’t either.”

She stiffened. “Then why are you hugging me like this?”

“I told you. I find it deeply comforting.”

“And before?”

“Before what?”

“Alex.” She eased off his lap and looked him right in the eyes. “Why did you kiss me?”

Alex was so gorgeous, so confused, and so…how to describe it? Intent. He took a deep breath and let it out, his broad pectorals lifting the somehow still-crisp gray suit and button-up shirt and lowering it again. “I wanted to.”

Nicole’s heart snapped.

For a few minutes there, she’d almost thought that he had deeper feelings for her. Deeper than the flirty lines and innuendo. Hot guys like him had to fend off dates with a stick. Kissing random people was probably a hobby for him, a daily pastime. Why else would he treat it so flippantly?

He took her hand and threaded their fingers. “You’re upset.”

“I told you that ignoring my wishes was disrespectful.”

He frowned.

“Not only did you kiss me because you wanted to, you also called me ‘yours.’ Those are romantic words where I come from.”

“I’m sorry.”

Her heart broke a little harder. Why couldn’t he protest and say that he really did like her?

Ignore her. Nobody likes Nicole.

Nicole cleared the sudden knot in her throat. “You’re still holding my hand.”

He tightened his grip. “I need it.”

Her heart flip-flopped. “Why?”

He considered the question. Head tilted, quizzical, with the blond hair slightly tousled gave him an irresistible rakish look. And with the intense gleaming of his unusual eyes, she couldn’t focus on the teal or the lavender. Somehow, if she searched those endless depths, she’d figure out what he meant. The ice he’d bottled up would break, and he’d spill out everything.

Alex leaned forward and lowered his mouth to steal another kiss.

He looked and smelled so good.

“Stop.” She put her hand over his mouth.

He stopped, surprised.

“Thank you. You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever met. And you’re smart, articulate, everything I’ve ever wanted. But you are… You’re out of control, somehow. I can’t be the one you push down to regain your balance.”

His lips teased her palm. “Mmphr.”

Arousal flared between her legs and tightened her nipples.

She squeezed her thighs. “If you keep pushing, I could make myself really vulnerable to you, and I’m pretty sure that’s the last thing you want. Right?”

He nodded, sober.

“So we can’t do this. Doing this would change everything.” She lowered her hands.

The hint of a kiss was imprinted on her palm.

She curled her hand into a fist.

Alex studied her for a long moment, then leaned back against the couch and stretched his legs.

She throbbed everywhere. Helpless, endless, directionless. She rested her fist in her lap and her other hand on top. “So, who’s invading Earth?”

He looked at her, and she just knew he wasn’t going to tell her. He was weighing how to do it and coming up empty.

The panel of lights and screens beeped. A gray dragon she hadn’t met resolved into focus on the wall screen across from them.

Alex moved in front of her, blocking her view. “Flint.”

“There won’t be time to meet face-to-face. You cut your escape too close.”

“We got out.”

“We?”

Alex lowered his shoulders and stepped to the side, revealing Nicole.

“You’re taking your mate into the dragon’s den.” Flint didn’t sound surprised.

“She’s not my mate.”

Nicole broke in. “We’re not even dating.”

Flint shrugged at her. “So long as you know what you’re doing.”

“Me? I have no idea.”

“I do,” Alex said, soft but firm.

Flint focused on Alex again. “Mother’s best ship is waiting for you. Call me when you have the evidence to stop Ironstone.”

“I will.” His jaw flexed. “Have my brothers realized the scout ships are more dangerous than the usual territory jockeying?”

“No. But the Carnelian family has raised a protest.”

“Sard Carnelian?”

“His wife is allied with House Adamantine. The Carnelians are the most influential family in the Outer Rim, and Ferocia has a true friendship with Mother. If Ferocia changes allegiances from Ironstone to Adamantine, it will alter the balance of power in the Outer Rim. Ironstone may delay its invasion, but only you can prevent it.”

Alex’s lips curled in a cold, mirthless smile. “I’ll call when it’s accomplished.”

“Have fun at the party.” Flint’s gray eyes reflected on Nicole, and then he disappeared. The view screen went blank.

Alex sat on the couch beside her again.

Nicole bounced to her feet, a million new questions bubbling through the compressed powder of her mind. “What party? Why don’t your brothers know? Who’s betraying who?”

“It’s better for you if you don’t know.”

“Alex! You promised to tell me everything.”

“I promised not to lie.”

She held up a finger, anger shooting through her like a cleansing fire, quieting her fears and focusing her attention. “You promised to be open.”

“I promised to be open with my friends. And you know my feelings on our friendship.”

She stopped, and her mouth almost dropped. “Are you serious? You’re really going to draw this stupid line in the sand—in space?”

“I don’t draw.”

“Because you’re too busy making pointless distinctions.” She gestured at the empty screen. “Flint knows your plan.”

“Flint knows everyone’s plan.”

“He didn’t know mine.”

“Because yours will have no effect on the outcome.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You will remain on the ship where it is safe. In the event I don’t return, you will be taken to my mother’s estate, and my family will guard you as they do your brother.”

“Then why did you even bring me?” she demanded.

Again confusion washed over him, but he tried. “Because your presence soothes me.”

“That’s it?”

He tilted his head. “I like touching you.”

Heat flared in her. She forcefully suppressed it. “And?”

He shook his head. That was it.

She rose and paced again, her brain working as she turned over what he was telling her. “You brought me because my presence soothes your out-of-control feelings and you like touching me…”

The truth struck her like a lightning bolt. It was so simple, and so simultaneously disappointing, that she stopped and laughed out loud at her ridiculous misunderstanding. “I get it. I so, so get it.”

“Get what?”

“You brought me, Alex, as your emotional-support animal.”

He tilted his head again, at once brilliant and beautiful and inhuman, and simultaneously so, so messed up. “Will you support me emotionally?”

“You should really seek professional help.”

“I will never tell another living creature what I’ve already confessed to you.”

“Yeah.” She sighed.

That was the thing. He was so tightly guarded. She probably was his only hope for ever opening up. And he needed at least one person in his life to point out how he was messed up.

“I’ll still help you, but all my original conditions apply. No more dodging with stupid reasons. The truth, the whole truth, right now, and whenever I demand it.”

“Come here.” He reached out to her with a heartfelt, almost childlike plea. “Can I touch you?”

“No.” His hand was broad, comforting, and would fill her with delicious pleasure, she just knew it. “You have to keep your hands to yourself.”

“I don’t share, Nicole. At the very least, I need to remind myself you’re a human. Not a dragon.”

All her instincts screamed at her to keep her distance. She’d agreed to support him, and her boundaries were more than fair. If he pushed, she’d fall for him, and when he moved on…

“Please, Nicole.” His soft voice begged.

Ugh.

Nicole sat and gave him her hand.

He massaged, studied, revered her hand, sliding his fingers over her knuckles and tracing the lines on her palm like he was discovering her future.

It was sexy. Just as she’d thought, he smelled good and he felt good. Assured confidence emanated from his strong fingers.

“That’s so weird,” she commented, trying to suppress the swell of arousal tightening her nipples.

“Flex your hands.”

“Hm?”

“Like you’re making claws.” He demonstrated, curving his fingers like he was gripping an invisible ball. His fingernails retracted inside while his dragon claws unsheathed, emerging like iridescent teal-lavender knives. Dragon scales poked through the surface of his pores at the tips.

She flexed, but of course nothing came out.

He flattened his hands, and the dragon sucked back under his human skin. He slid his pads over her shaped tips.

The gentle touch sent dizzying arousal through her veins, rocketing need to her female core.

She clenched her thighs.

“No matter how much you try, you’ll never shift. You’ll never break the skin or claw someone’s heart out. You’ll never hurt…” He slashed a suddenly dragon index finger across his chest. “…me.”

She wouldn’t, but he was making some assumptions. “I don’t need to have claws to slash someone’s heart out.”

“I can see a knife coming.”

She wished it were that simple. “I stayed in a very toxic relationship for, oh, all of my life, and believe me, you don’t have to have scars on the outside to be damaged.”

“Yes, you said that.” He flipped her hand over again, traced the blue veins across her sensitive wrist and up her forearm. “Are you damaged?”

“I was. Have been. Honestly, I still am, but therapy helps.”

“Therapy… What do you talk about with your therapist?”

“It’s private.” But she wasn’t a super-private person, anyway. “I mostly talk about how everyone else is more put together and successful than I am, how my siblings are all happy, well-adjusted, and married, while I’m a total mess, and what it would take for me to get to where they are, if I even want that. Most of the time, I’m convinced I don’t.”

“This is why you’re not dating?”

“It’s a factor. I can’t give my heart to someone else until I’m strong enough to have it handed back. That’s what being an adult is. Two whole people coming together, honestly, filling in each other’s cracks, shoring up the weak parts.”

He fixed his two-tone gaze on her for a long mesmerizing moment.

She wanted to fall into his eyes, and she studied the way the light moved. One eye was teal and the other purple, then they switched. One was always more one color, and the other was always the opposite. “They’re never the same.”

He blinked, then frowned at her fingers again. “Pleochroism.”

“What’s that?”

“The color change. Alexandrite changes depending on the light. Other minerals do as well, but mine’s the most dramatic. I’m rare and therefore coveted.”

Talking about himself seemed to make him uncomfortable. She let the silence linger, then pressed. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

“May I lay my head in your lap?”

Her heart thudded. The tingling that he’d evoked in her wrist and arm localized now in her thighs, ready and waiting for him to rest his beautiful head.

This way lay madness.

Somewhere in the world, a psychologist was screaming at her to make better choices.

She cleared her throat. “Uh, not romantic?”

“Yes.”

Great. Like with the flirting and everything else, he still saw her as not friends.

His tone dropped into disappointment. “No?”

“It’s fine, I guess.”

He settled, his shoulder wedged against her thigh, and rolled his head back to press his ear to her middle.

She fought the cavalcade of feelings. Motherly, protective, and yet also craving to snuggle him as he snuggled her. “You can hear my stomach.”

“I do.”

“I bet dragon stomachs don’t gurgle.” She leaned back on the couch and stared up at the ceiling. “My sisters and I used to do this. When we were watching movies in my old room. When Jackie wasn’t busy with accounting work, she’d call me over and braid my hair. You’ve never done this before?”

“Dragon families are not close. Or maybe they are. I was raised by a foster family and did not see my own often until recently.”

“Darcy said you guys were all raised in an orphanage.”

“Not me.” His jaw hardened. “I am too rare and valuable. If the Ironstones hadn’t taken me in, another family would have, and if I’d gone to the orphanage, they would have fought over me like the last nugget of a depleted mine.”

He rolled to face the blank screen and snuggled into her thighs. “But that’s why we’re here, now, saving your world. And, if Flint is to be believed, also mine.”

She soaked in the heat radiating from his head. He trusted her in this position. And never having a close family meant he’d missed out on this for his entire life.

Nicole stroked the blond strands, straightening them into place.

He sucked in a deep breath and let it out.

His hair was thicker than she’d realized. The strands that seemed so fine had a strength, an integrity she hadn’t noticed. And his profile wasn’t as perfect up close. He had blemishes. A dark birthmark behind his earlobe, and a miniscule scar buried in his brow. From a distance, it blended seamlessly. Only up close could she pick out the imperfections.

“Are you going to tell me?” she asked softly.

“It won’t affect you.”

“That means I will sit and imagine all sorts of horrible things until you get back.”

Strangely, that worked. He opened his eyes and glanced back at her, then seemed to shrug. “Do you want the short version or the long version?”

“How long do we have?”

He lifted up slightly and squinted at the distant control screens. “Three hours.”

“Let’s start with the short version and go from there.”

“I’m going to release pictures of ancient ship hulls to incite a violent interfamily war.”

She waited a beat. “Uh…let’s try the long version. Who’s fighting over Earth?”

“The five families.”

“Who?”

“There are five main dragon families. While the Palace is distracted by the battle to install a new Empress, the five families are trying to carve away extra resources for themselves.”

“There are only five dragon families?”

“Adamantine is the strongest, and Ironstone is the most resourceful. The others are Palladium, Corundum, and Zeolite.”

“Only five…”

“Main families. There are hundreds of minor families, but they are all allied under the main five. My biological family, Onyx, allies with Ironstone, even though my grand dragon came from a family allied with Palladium.”

“Okay, and they’re fighting over Earth?”

“Correct. Adviser Wrathmoda made a small attempt last week.”

“I thought she just wanted to marry Jasper.”

“That was related, yes. Her house, Tektite, is a minor branch of House Adamantine. When she left, she took a small fleet with her, thus opening the way for House Ironstone to try next. They will not try a diplomatic or business takeover, and everyone knows it. Therefore, they must show that they deserve to own Earth without a fight, or they must fight off other claimants before they begin their harvest.”

She shuddered at that word, harvest. “Why? I mean, why Earth?”

“The Ironstone family exhausted the cheap, easy-to-extract mineral resources they stole from the Colonies. They’re seeking a new easy commodity to exploit, and they’ve just swarmed Earth.”

“But I thought Earth had no important natural resources.”

“True, so I assume my foster aunt has her sights on your unnatural resources. Your creative arts, colorful designs, and flavorful cuisine.”

“You’re already exporting that.”

“Not at volume. There are chronic shortages of coffee throughout the Empire, and that’s because the treaty restricts us to keep a minimum volume of goods on Earth. Anything above the minimum is exported.”

“So they’re going to take all our coffee?”

“And everything else.”

“What does that mean?”

“They will descend like one of your historical plagues, empty the fields, enslave the survivors. All because we—my siblings and I—created an appetite for human goods.”

She chilled. His tone was soft, nonjudgmental, and somehow that made it more horrifying.

“Someone said—one of you dragons—said that you wanted to preserve our creativity. If we’re starving and enslaved, then we aren’t going to be creative.”

“Yes, I value your creativity. The Ironstone family and many other dragons think humans already create too much. Instead of seeing you as a great wellspring, they see a murky flood that needs to be cleaned up, streamlined, simplified.” He paused a beat. “And also, they don’t care about whether anyone survives so long as they make their profit.”

She felt cold. “So when do we greet our new overlords?”

“If we do nothing? A few weeks.”

“That soon… So how are you going to stop them?”

“By bleeding them.” Again, his voice was so coldly matter-of-fact. “Despite recent losses and the closure of their best mine, the Ironstone family still gets the majority of its income from the Colonies. And despite occasional challenges, they have held their territory because dragon law is on their side.”

“So what are you going to do? Change the law?”

“Expose them,” he replied. “They supposedly landed on the richest planets long ago. Some Colonists are their descendants. Supposedly.”

“Supposedly,” she echoed.

“Their claim is based on historic events. Draconis was once so overpopulated, it went through a series of mass starvations. The then-twelve powerful families deployed starships full of excess dragons to voyage into the depths of space. These ships were captained by the Lost Heroes of Draconis. Most probably died. Every time a starvation loomed on the horizon, the families sent off a new ship.

“Technology improved, and the starvation cycle ended. We began an orderly expansion of the Empire, first settling the Outer Rim of habitable zones around Draconis, and then pushing outward. We ran into ancient descendants thriving on resource-rich systems.”

“The Colonies,” Nicole said, proving that she was keeping up.

“Yes, and you can guess what happened next.”

“Everyone held hands and promised to be friends?”

He squeezed her thighs. “You are so innocent. How do you survive?”

“I’m being…well, not sarcastic. Hopeful, I guess.”

“Stupid,” he supplied.

“Hey.”

“If any of the Colonists shared your hope, it was to their detriment, because we immediately tried to conquer and enslave them. On the planets that were barely livable, we largely succeeded. On the planets where the Colonists concentrated, well, the line of fighting has moved several times, including once up to the very edge of the Draconis space. That happened because House Adamantine sold them our best weapons and technology. The line is currently a safer distance out, and for the last several decades, General Ragiosa has successfully upheld the peace.”

“And that’s the reason for the law against sharing dragon technology on Earth,” Nicole guessed. “You don’t want us to fight back.”

“Correct.”

“So what does this have to do with you?”

“As House Adamantine rose to prominence by selling arms to both sides, House Ironstone rose by exploiting the unoccupied Colony planets. But later, the other families complained. Why should Ironstone get all the lucrative mines just because they happened to set up operations first? Well, suddenly, several ancient ship hulls were discovered in the Colonies, and Ironstone’s historical hulls just so happened to have all been found on all their mining planets.”

“How convenient…”

“It has been the subject of violent political infighting. Most recently, it came to light that House Zeolite definitely sent a ship to one of the mines Ironstone claimed. But Ironstone insists that their ship must have crashed into an asteroid, because only Ironstone hulls were found. An Ironstone adviser ruled over the Colonies when these hulls were contested, so you can guess which family received the legal rights to mine.”

“So if you can find the evidence that Ironstone lied about the hull…”

“House Zeolite will renew their fighting. They are a small but fierce house, and they’ve been bitter for generations about this deception. Ironstone will have to turn away from Earth and defend their lucrative mines or risk losing them and dropping below Zeolite in the rank of the five families.”

“Okay. Wow. So how are you going to prove they lied?”

“Flint was a Scholar. During his time within the Palace archives, he discovered that the description of Ironstone’s hull and the description of what was found didn’t match. All we have to do is record and publicize the hulls.”

“Okay, so where are the hulls now?”

“The hulls are kept in the locked Ironstone archives.”

“Locked…”

“Asking to see them would raise suspicions, and if anyone at the main house realized there might be a problem of authenticity, they would likely destroy the hulls before letting anyone see.”

“But if they destroy them, they have no evidence.”

“Yes, but they’ve owned the mines so long, the dragons who contest their ownership have the burden of proof. And it will be much easier to manipulate Zeolite to act if we show them proof that Ironstone has been laughing at them for centuries rather than hinting at the rumor.”

“Ugh. So how are you going to break in?”

Alex smiled coldly. “I don’t have to.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Nicole had been imagining terrible action-movie scenes in her head. She was definitely not “Nicole Cage, National Treasure.” “You found a key?”

“Ironstone is going to display the ship hulls to the entire family at the Triple Crown celebration happening this year.”

“That is lucky.”

“I’ve been waiting half a decade,” he said. “This is the millennial anniversary of House Ironstone, the tercentennial anniversary of the first Colony Wars victory, and the Ironstone matriarch’s hundredth birthday. Hence the ‘Triple Crown.’ Aunt Chrysotile will display the hulls in a show of power. One is usually displayed, but given the significance, she’s going to display all of them.”

“Okay, so you’re going to sneak in, snap the proof that the hulls belong to other families, and waltz right out again.” She saw one problem. “Hey, Alex? What if you check all the hulls and it turns out they all belong to Ironstone? What if they’re all real?”

“Even better.” His lips curved coldly. “Ironstone wove thermonuclear engine pieces into their original hulls. After this many years of degradation, I should be able to easily locate and detonate the remains. I’ll turn my aunt’s estate into a thousand-square-mile conflagration.”

“You’re going to bomb your foster family? At the celebration?” Nicole rested her hand on Alex’s shoulder, her tone shocked at his confession. “Won’t a lot of your foster relatives be there?”

“We can only hope.”

“Seriously, Alex.”

“It’s the most important celebration in centuries, so yes, every family will send a representative.”

“Including yours.”

“I alone will represent the Onyx family. My siblings are on Earth or in the Outer Rim with Mother.”

“What about everybody else?”

“Yes, I suppose my foster family will attend.”

“And you don’t care about turning any of them into a smoking crater?”

“The only one who matters is aware of my plan and has taken her own measures. That is my foster sister, Iolite. You will meet her after we land.”

Nicole was silent for some time, and then she snorted and murmured to herself, “That is so messed up. You need therapy.”

“I thought this was therapy.”

“With a qualified therapist!” Nicole tutted and sighed. “I should have recorded this. But who will believe me? Oh, wait. Who will be left on Earth to believe anything?” She lapsed into private mutters. “First thing when we get back is I’m signing you up. You need a therapist yesterday. Last week. Five years ago.”

Alex did not need anyone. He had never needed anyone.

And he still didn’t.

He didn’t need her, for instance. Her soft thighs, the gentle rumble and squeak of her adorable belly, the calm way she was alternately intrigued and outraged on his behalf. She filled a hollow in his soul, if he believed in such a thing. Like now, he voluntarily placed his head on her lap, and she respected his space. Her touches were exploratory, curious, and no more than light brushing of his hair across his temple.

If he had had a Nicole in his life, he might never have reached the level of seething to plot the Ironstone family’s destruction.

But ifs were questions for the past. While she confronted her own ifs, he lightly dozed. There was no telling when he’d next get to rest.

A chime on his gold wristwatch informed him that they were going to intercept the official Onyx transport. He roused with a yawn to see Nicole still awake and frowning at the outside view screen. “What’s that weird-looking space cockroach?”

“That which shuns light.”

“Huh?”

“Lucifuga class. An ornamental cruiser.”

“Did you just speak English?”

Oh. Right. He made a note to himself. “Yes, I did. Does lucifuga hold no meaning for you? I am told that human languages are all hybrids that consume other languages.”

“Yeah, well, I subscribe to a Word a Day, I just haven’t read the vocab recently. That’s a spaceship?”

“The Onyx cruiser. We have one larger. This is appropriate for flying to one of the five families.”

She collected her necklace. “Can I record?”

“Yes.”

“You won’t get in trouble if any tapes of your stuff get out?”

“Dragons have no expectation of privacy, especially in the aristocracy.”

“Really?”

“You are welcome to record anything but my plans for the Triple Crown. We can’t speak of it again after we leave this drone. Even on Mother’s cruiser, it could be overheard.”

“Don’t wonder aloud about how you’re going to expose your foster family for fraud or blow them up. Got it.” She sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “Are you sure I can record this spaceship, though? I’m going to upload it to YouTube. ‘Nicole in the Dragon Empire.’ I don’t think most people on Earth have seen much of the Empire. This isn’t a military secret, right?”

“Honestly? You could transmit anything. Even my plans. Don’t, but if you let something slip, it doesn’t matter.”

“You’re kidding.”

“None of my enemies will be looking for clues on a human website.”

“But just to be safe, maybe I shouldn’t video this either…”

“No dragon, and I mean literally no one, will ever care about what you transmit back to Earth.”

Nicole finally believed in the vast disdain of the Empire for whatever she told to the unimportant, genetically recessive nonshifters on her backwater planet, and clicked to record. Their drone navigated into the mouth of the spaceship. Nicole marveled at being “swallowed,” and when the drone doors opened and she walked out into the cavernous hold, she began gasping, shivering, and her lips turned blue. She swooned against his arm.

“Oh my God. It’s freezing.” Her chest heaved as she struggled for breath. “Why am I light-headed?”

Bilgefire.

“I didn’t plan for your presence, and Flint didn’t reprogram the cruiser. The atmosphere is thinner than you’re used to.” He collected her and flew upward, through the luxurious female-dragon-sized halls adorned with Onyx gemstones, and deposited her on a silver bench in the lounging hall. He flew to the ceiling and set the systems commands. “I’ve sealed this room to create a hyperbaric chamber. It will slowly acclimate you so that by the time we reach the Ironstone Estate, you should not have the same reaction.”

She rubbed her bare arms. “And the freezing?”

“Will not be repeated. Ironstone Estate is on a planetite with a dense cloud layer.”

“So it’s going to be overcast?”

“And it traps heat like a magnifying glass under the sun. Not as much heat as your planet, or Venus, where lead would melt on its eight-hundred-degree surface, but much hotter than Earth.”

“Eight hundred… Like, how much hotter?”

“It’s within human endurance levels.”

“That tells me nothing.”

“We will never walk on the surface, but you will want to wear sunscreen indoors.”

She snorted and laughed at herself. “Okay. I wanted an adventure. This is an adventure.”

He approved of her attitude. “Do not worry. You will either wait in this ship for my return, or you will wait in my foster sister’s chambers, and we can modulate the temperature there.”

Color returned to her skin. After a few minutes, she said, “Do you have anything to eat?”

“Dragon food.”

“Sounds great! I’m starving.” She kicked her feet. “It must be dinnertime at home.”

He dispensed the rations into a cup and handed it to her with a warning. “You won’t like it.”

“Why not?” She tilted the cup. “Huh. What are the lumps?”

“Consistency nuggets. That is one ration of essential elements—proteins, carbohydrates, vitamins, fiber—turned into different textures to stimulate the palate.”

“Huh.” She sipped it, then took a larger swallow, chewed, and gulped. Her confused expression remained stable. “It’s like warm, salty tapioca pudding. Except there’s not enough salt.”

“It has been described by humans as lukewarm barley soup, creamed corn, and oatmeal, all unflavored.”

“And this is all you eat?”

“Humans say hunger is the best spice.”

“Sure, but we also have a heck of a lot of other spices when hunger gets boring. No wonder you guys went crazy when you landed on Earth.” She consumed the rest. “So, how long until we get to the Ironstone planet?”

“Planetite. Approximately nine hours.”

“Enough time for a nap.” She yawned.

“Yes, it would be good for you to sleep, although you may also do so while I’m gone.”

“Where’s the bedroom?”

“This is the smallest and coziest room. I selected it for you.”

She slid off the silver bench and looked around. “Uh. This is a ballroom. There’s not even a couch cushion. Where’s the bed?”

“Dragons don’t need beds. We are comfortable on the hard floor.”

“Seriously? Wow. I should have packed pajamas and slippers.”

“Those I can provide.” He flew to the drone and returned with the mobile wardrobe.

Nicole picked through the clothes he’d selected for her, reassurance turning to interest and finally excitement as she thumbed through the dresses, leggings, and so forth to the shoes.

She pounced on a pair of black combat boots with sun-and-moon celestial symbols painted on the sides. “You got the Combat Destiny boots? I have wanted these forever! I worked my butt off to afford the Maid of Iron ones I’m wearing right now. Oh my God, how did you know?”

He smiled.

Without even realizing that she’d explained his knowledge, she giggled over the other acquisitions, patting the swing and tunic dresses and leggings, fuzzy pajamas, and cozy slippers. He’d even thrown in a Snuggie, which she wrapped around herself as a sort of blanket.

“I’ve got to send this to Tara.” Nicole held out her arms to model the wearable blanket in the shape and color of a cute panda. “Do you have email?”

“It is possible to send a message that will interface with an Earth system. The problem is a live connection.”

“Cool, I’ll just take a few snaps.” She stuck her recorder to the wall, modeled her outfit, squealed over the boots, and then, still grinning, asked for his help.

He showed her the equipment, including how to edit the video to isolate the snaps using the three-dimensional holographic video-editing studio that came standard with every communication portal. She almost fell backward.

“This is amazing!” She dipped her hands into the holographic interface, pinched sections of video, and smooshed others together. “It’s like sculpting clay, except it’s a story, and the footage is all digital, yet I’m cutting it together.”

Nicole spent several minutes spooling through her recordings. She lingered on the bassist. “It’s so funny. When today started, I thought my craziest out-of-character leap would be to attend an electronic Celt concert. Fresh Beans feels like a lot longer ago than a few hours.”

She eventually moved past it, squeezing and cutting the other pieces, made a quick intro and a couple of explanatory bits, and then watched the final product. Three minutes. A whole day compressed into three minutes.

“Okay, show me how to upload this to YouTube,” she said. “If that’s possible.”

“It’s very possible. I use this to update our social media.”

“You have social media?”

“Mal thinks it makes us more relatable to our human suppliers.” His brothers had a very different method of making and sustaining business partnerships than the method Alex had been raised with in his foster family.

Nicole scrolled through the Onyx Corporation Facebook posts. “These are just pictures of lunches, cubicles, and conference rooms. You never show anything interesting like flying around in space.”

“That isn’t very interesting to a dragon.” He showed her the method they used to send the message and integrate with Earth’s systems. “There will be a delay posting.”

“Oh, sure, because we’re about a bajillion miles away now. How long will it be? Days or weeks?”

“Six minutes.”

She blinked. “Um, that’s fine for me.”

“That is why live communication is impossible. We must communicate at specific hours. And with the interference zone, it will now take even longer for messages to pass.”

“I think it took longer for NASA to communicate with the astronauts on the moon.”

“Surely not. Even by lowly Earth communication standards, it must take less than a second.”

“I don’t know.” She yawned. “This is still so amazing.”

“Your final product is quite unusual. I don’t think anyone’s ever used the equipment as you do.”

“What do you use it for?”

“Ship’s logs. We do not create something new. We simply speed up or slow the existing footage according to the needs of the system.”

“Huh, well, you have all the tools. All you have to do is make use of them.”

“That is the human creativity we want to protect.”

She eyed him. “You’re half human too, you know. You have all the tools.”

“It’s different.”

“I guess. I don’t think anyone who’s planned to bring down their foster family at the…uh…I mean, planned what you do is lacking in the creativity department.”

“That planning is functional.”

“There’s a lot of creativity in making functional things. Engineering is problem-solving, which is very creative.”

Her general optimism and encouragement made him want to care for her. Shelter her, be gentle with her, in a way he never felt about anyone.

He pulled his shirt loose from his trousers and began unbuttoning.

Her mouth opened, and then she blinked and twitched. “Are you getting hot in here?”

“I’ve come up with a functional solution to your bed issue.” He reached the last button and shouldered out of his shirt and jacket, hung both on the side of his luxury closet, and smoothed the creases. He hooked a finger around his belt.

She made a peep and whirled away. “What are you doing?”

“Removing my clothes.”

“I get it. I mean, why?”

“So they’re not damaged when I shift.”

Relief seeped into her tone, and her voice grew louder as she swung back around toward him. “Oh, you’re shifting.”

He dropped his trousers.

“Oh!” She whirled away again and covered her eyes. “You’re not done.”

How amusing.

“I, uh, I think I was accidentally recording. You can, uh, remind me how to delete it later.”

He hung up the rest of his outfit, ensured it was all crisp, and then padded toward her. “Why would you do that?”

She put her shoulder to him. “So you don’t get your naked pictures put up on the internet.”

“Dragons don’t care about nudity.”

“Humans do.” She stomped her fluffy slippers. “Stop smirking at me and shift already.”

Very well.

Although he had never quite teased anyone like he wanted to tease Nicole, he stepped back to a safe distance and let the scales shower over his human skin, protecting it in lavender-and-teal iridescent diamond scales. His limbs elongated as his chest tripled in size to a barrel and sheltering wings sprang from his shoulder blades. His voice emerged low and rough from his long throat. “I have shifted.”

Nicole dropped her hands and turned. Her gaze rested on him, and her lips twisted with head-shaking amazement. “I don’t get dragons. You’re so much bigger than a second ago. Where did all the extra stuff come from? It’s a mystery.”

“It’s completely logical,” he assured her, padding to the center of the now comfortably sized bedroom. “We solved the matter conversion back in the dim past. The equations allowed us to complete simple space travel as naturally as your species changed to agriculture. Your Bronze Age was equivalent to us reaching the Outer Rim. We are so far beyond that level of technology now that you could not catch up to us if you had a million years.”

“I’m just going to be over here banging rocks together.”

“Come.” He settled and made a small, warm hollow against his side. “You let me rest my head on your belly. I will return the favor to you.”

She considered it for a moment, then rested a tentative hand on the curve of his back leg. “Thank you. You could have made this awkward by being a human, so I appreciate this.” She climbed in and snuggled. “It’s like falling asleep against a waterbed. Am I going to hear your stomach gurgle?”

“A dragon’s stomach never gurgles.”

“Huh, if you say so.” She rested her head against his dragon chest and snugged the blanket around her. “I hear your heart.”

He’d never heard anyone’s heart. “How does it sound?”

“Oh, healthy, you know, like any other dragon your age.” She laughed to herself.

She was teasing him.

Too bad he had not offered his shelter as a human. Nestling her in his human arms enticed him. It enticed him very much.

She would protest, most likely. More about falling for him, when that was inevitable. She might as well give in. He’d make sure she enjoyed it.

Nicole was his responsibility.

He had taken her away from her world. Alex had once vowed never to provide her with anything, not even a sandwich, and now he must provide her with everything.

But nothing else would change.

He would take good care of her until they destroyed his foster family.

Nicole awoke hot and sticky, with a crick in her neck and a kink in her shoulders, as if she’d slept on a friend’s lumpy old couch.

A mild growl seeped into her awareness.

It was coming from beneath her.

The hairs on the back of her neck rose.

She suddenly knew exactly where she was. She was completely awake.

Nicole scrambled out of Alex’s massive dragon arms. “Oh my God, what is it? Are we under attack? Did they find us?”

“They?” Alex’s voice changed timbre, sounding like himself again, even though the male before her was one hundred percent iridescent porcelain lavender-and-teal dragon. “No, I just said that we’re going to arrive soon so you should get dressed.”

“Oh.” She stretched and rubbed the back of her neck. “All I heard was a growl.”

“Ah.”

He lowered his neck, and the shift she’d seen last…er, night?…reversed itself. His scales pulled into his pores as his limbs shrank, his snout shortened, and he turned into the perfectly bronzed Greek god with Adonis handles at the perfectly cut hips, two dimples just above his muscular butt cheeks, and all the muscles she’d had to learn by name in anatomical drawing stood out in gorgeous relief.

Her heart pounded, her pussy squeezed, and her mouth went dry.

She’d looked at a lot of nude models, and plenty of them were good-looking too, but Alex was just on another level.

And when he turned, his well-formed cock had the perfect relaxed curve against his thighs.

She wanted to reach out and clasp it. Him. Give a squeeze. Feel the rest of him too.

He floated to the ceiling and pulled a box out of storage. “Hm. It’s in the main medkit. I’ll be right back. Get dressed.”

Alex flew nude out of the room.

“You get dressed,” she muttered, and picked out an outfit for meeting Alex’s foster family, her potential future overlords: black leggings, dark navy sleeveless maxi dress, and the super-cute Combat Destiny lace-up black boots with iridescent gold celestial designs on the ankle.

A little stiff, but otherwise the perfect size.

She sighed. If Alex wasn’t so completely emotionally unavailable, she’d be in love.

Nicole pressed the food dispensary button he’d shown her the previous day, and another serving of mush slopped into the cup. She swirled it, then hiked herself up onto the silver bench and sat cross-legged to drink the protein-texture muck.

Alex returned to the room with a large crate. He wore a gray silk hotel bathrobe belted around his middle that left almost nothing to the imagination—and what it did, she filled in from memory.

She masked her too-detailed interest with a comment on the food. “I could kill for a Pop-Tart or a bowl of Lucky Charms.”

“We don’t have a toaster or cow’s milk anyway.” He actually sounded mildly sympathetic, which was unusual for him.

“You’re in a space cockroach super yacht, so I’m sure we could rig something.”

“Mm.” He held a small white hair dryer in one hand. “Scoot forward and look up.”

“Up?” She did as he requested, dropping her feet over the edge of the bench and studying the cathedral ceiling.

He put the nozzle of the blow-dryer up to her nose.

It shot a puff of air.

Her eyes watered, and she sniffed. “What was that?”

“A brain implant.” He stowed the dryer thing in the crate.

Shock and horror battled with awe. She touched her nose. Everything felt normal. “You just shot something up into my brain?”

“Yes.”

“Give me a little warning next time!”

“You shouldn’t feel a thing.”

“I don’t know if that makes it better or worse.” She rubbed her nose, then touched her forehead. “Where is it?”

“Your Broca’s area, among other places.”

“It’s in multiple places?!”

“You don’t think communication happens all in one cluster of cells, do you?” His condescending look said that he might not be a creative human, but at least he knew how speech in the brain worked. “The implant invades all those areas and works together to provide instant translation. During the second Great Expansion, clear communication prevented more than one accidental genocide.”

“Uh.” She dropped her hands. “Is it working?”

He closed his eyes, then opened them again. The irises glowed with intensity. “What do you think, Nicole?”

First, hearing her name on his sexy tongue made a delicious throb in her suddenly damp pussy.

Second, his words sounded slightly off, as if she’d missed a word and then suddenly caught up. But the question was in his voice and his words. Just rougher, with an undertone of a growl that she could feel in her spine.

Like everything else about him, it turned her on.

“I think it’s working,” she replied.

The growl was in her voice too. It licked at the undersides of her words and lapped at her earlobes like tongues of fire. She shuddered.

He tilted his head. The interest intensified. “What is it?”

“It’s weird.” Tingles made all the hairs on her body stand up in shivery waves of goose bumps. “I feel like I’m suddenly one hundred percent fluent in Klingon, and it’s awesome.”

His smile broadened. He touched her forearm. “Your skin is changing texture.”

“That happens when humans are scared or chilled or…” She swallowed, her mouth dry again. He watched her so intently. “Turned on.”

He stepped between her legs and traced the bumps up her bare forearms, across the insides of her sensitive elbows, over the gentle swell of her biceps to the edge of the dress. “Is it all over?”

Her nipples puckered. Desire squeezed between her legs. She found her voice. “Yes.”

“Are you scared?”

“No.”

“Cold?”

She considered lying. “Not really.”

He rested his palms on the bench on the outside of her knees, hemming her in, and slowly lifted his gaze to her eyes. “Turned on?”

She melted.

He smelled like dark secrets and powerful fantasies. Male, dangerous, and her lips trembled for the nip of his fine white teeth.

She cleared her throat. “Yes.”

The colors of his irises shifted, intense. She would never pin him down, never force him into one shape. He would always be beyond her understanding, above her reach. Those mesmerizing eyes focused on her parted lips. He dipped his head.

No.

She moved her head a fraction.

His lips grazed her cheek.

She pushed him back, her body clenching with need and protest, while her mind cried for what she wanted and couldn’t have. “I don’t want a friends-with-benefits situation.”

His head tilted. “We are not friends…ah.” A new understanding lit his face as though his implant had just caught up with her words. “That is what I want. I made a mistake when I said I do not think of you as a friend. I think of you as a friend with whom I can trade sexual benefits.”

She wanted it. Him, making out with her, kissing her mouth, her breast, her femininity. Filling her channel with his perfectly shaped cock. Wringing orgasm after orgasm out of her willing, hungry body.

She twitched and batted at the images. “That’s not going to work for me.”

“It is perfect.” His lips curved into that heart-squeezing smile. “Many have tried this with me. Sex without marriage. Many have requested marriage too, but I will never do that. Never. I won’t be trapped. I won’t be vulnerable. But you, Nicole, cannot change forms. You will not dominate me. I think, with you, I can finally bestow my body—human to human—without any risk.”

He was honest, deeply honest, for the first time with her, and of all topics to be honest about, it was this.

“I can’t,” she said.

“It’s perfect. You are turned on. I will give you release.”

God, the temptation.

She was only one woman, and he was a sexy god bantering with a mortal. So gorgeous, she wanted a little taste. A memory. Like why women slept with famous actors or rock stars. He was so much more than just himself. By sleeping with him, she’d get a little piece of that confidence, that ego too.

But it wasn’t worth it to her. She’d never been good at disengaging. The more someone pulled away and withheld their love, the more she’d turn inward, doing everything she could think of to get the mythical thing back.

And Alex wasn’t even pretending to give it to her in the first place. Any love she imagined in his eyes would be strictly that—her imagination.

Never again.

“Thank you for your kind offer,” she started, picking her words carefully.

“You are welcome.” He cupped her jaw and stroked his thumbs across her lips. “You are the first one I’ve ever wanted to be with like this. You are the first recipient I will honor.”

Her lips tingled. “And I am, uh, honored.”

“Of course you are. You will never hurt me.”

“About that.” She tugged both his hands free of her now-glowing face and clasped them in front of her. “I might never hurt you, but you will definitely hurt me, so—”

“Never.” His lavender-and-teal eyes flared. “You will only experience pleasure.”

“I can’t just have sex with someone. I have to love them. They have to love me. There’s no other way.”

The smile on his face returned with a dab of confusion. “Have you ever tried?”

“No, but I know.”

“You should try.” He swooped forward and kissed her.

She tasted so many things in that moment. Hunger, hope, Alex. His tongue stroked hers, caressed the insides of her mouth, plumbed the depths. Her heart squeezed. She wanted more. So much more.

His hands expertly caressed her neck, her back, her shoulders, and slid around to her front. Her breasts cried out for his touch, and he gently closed over them, one and then the other, squeezing and exploring, savoring and luxuriating.

Desire streaked to her core and soaked her panties.

His hand curved around her lower back and scooted her forward on the bench until her legs hooked over his buttocks. His hardened cock pressed against her slick femininity.

She moaned against his mouth.

He released her tongue and kissed up her cheek to her sensitive earlobe and gave it a sweet tug.

Sensations cascaded through her, each one overwhelming the next. She throbbed. She glowed.

His hand touched the bare skin at her side, and her bra fell away, spilling her breasts into his hands.

Her breasts swelled, and she moaned again. Her lips throbbed from his kiss.

He teased her nipples and then put one in his mouth, rolled the sensitive point on his tongue, and worked the other.

Wave after wave of pleasure broke through her. She clung to the hard, implacable muscle rippling across his broad shoulders.

He slipped his hand down her panties and found her dripping-wet arousal. His own breath quickened. “Nicole.”

“I know,” she gasped.

Fierce intensity made his eyes glow. He slickened his fingers in her juices, teasing and feeding her need, entering her channel and bringing her closer to the brink. Then, he ripped off her panties.

She lay back and watched.

This was happening.

She couldn’t think. She couldn’t breathe.

He trailed kisses down her belly to the fire he stoked in her throbbing body. His breath tickled her pussy.

It was too late. She had wanted him since the first moment and lied to herself the whole time. But if she let him give her the orgasm she so desperately, throbbingly craved, she would not walk away from this bench a whole person. She’d fracture, and a piece of her would always belong to him.

So she said the only thing she could think of to make him stop. “Alex, I love you.”

It worked exactly how she’d intended.

He hesitated, his mouth fractions of an inch from her damp, wanting clit. He lifted his head. “What?”

Her heart broke.

But in the breaking, it gave her new strength. “I love you.”

He frowned. “You can’t. We haven’t finished sex yet.”

She snorted. “If only that was how it worked.”

“Why isn’t that how it works?”

“Human hearts are complicated. You manipulate people all the time. You should know that.” She pushed him away and went to start putting her clothes back on, when the reality of how he’d gotten so quickly to skin broke through to her—her bra, panties, leggings, and dress were all perfectly shredded, the fabric split into even sections with expediency. Even when tearing a woman’s clothes off in a fit of passion, Alex did it precisely.

Nicole pulled the different pieces together to shield herself and slid off the bench to head to the magic wardrobe. [That thing is like Narnia, Tara!] At least her precious combat boots were okay. She’d have a different attitude right now if he’d sliced those with a razor claw.

He stood naked behind her, his cock standing at a proud sixty-degree angle off his washboard abs. “I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

“I know, and that’s why I’m not too mad about what just happened.”

“Mad? You were clinging to me and about to experience the ultimate pleasure.”

His cocky words made her roll her eyes. She cleaned off and changed into a new outfit—navy leggings, black Chinese tunic dress with embroidered black-on-black dragons on the breasts—and brushed her matted hair.

“I don’t understand,” he said finally. “I’m willing to give you pleasure from my body, something I’ve denied to everyone else. Females have stalked, chased, terrorized me for my body. I’m willing to give it to you, and you refuse.”

She dropped the brush and turned to him. “That’s awful.”

“I’m desirable.” He refuted her pity, proud and sure. Scales rippled up his arms in a shimmer of color. “My coloration is rare. Females would pay fortunes to possess my body.”

“I know, and that makes sense. But, Alex, I want more than my lover’s body.” She held out her hands. “I’m not rare or special like you. I’m just a person. I want love and success and fulfillment, and someday, I’ll even figure out how to get those things.” She lowered her hands. “You’re worth more than the color of your scales or your eyes. And I want more than a quickie on a too-big silver bench. I want someone who gets me, treasures me, loves me. Not as a friend, but as a soul mate.”

“I can’t.”

“Right, and I really, really appreciate your honesty on that. As much as I wish it weren’t true, it means more to me that you tell me the truth than what I want to hear.”

“You should take what you can get.”

“Ha ha, I’ve heard that before too.” She shook her head. “And you know what? No. I’m pushing back. I don’t let others decide what I can get. Someday I’ll meet someone who lifts me up, fills my heart, and brightens my soul. And that person will be the one with whom I share everything.”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re going to die alone.”

“Yeah, that’s another possibility.” She scooped up her messed-up fabric and balled it in her hands. “But I’m an optimistic person. I’m going to hold on to hope.”

He frowned and shrugged on his bathrobe. “You are aroused by me. I could prove you’re wrong.”

“By what, continuing to hit on me? Look, disrespecting what I ask is the quickest way to earn my disgust, and that will make for a really awkward ride home.”

His arrogance dropped. “I would earn your disgust?”

“Yeah, if you kept coming on to me when I asked you not to, then that would be it.” She dumped the fabric on the bench and faced him. “We’d have to keep the bench between us. You’d be like those females who stalked you. I would never let you so much as touch me.”

He stepped forward and reached for her hand.

She pulled her hands away from his outstretched one. “What?”

“Do not deny me this. I need it. Your soothing touch.”

Right, because she was his emotional-support animal. “Do you promise to be respectful?”

“Yes, of course.”

She lowered her hand and allowed him to grip it. He squeezed gently, rhythmically, in a self-soothing motion.

Aww.

He was a grown man, a dragon male desired by uncounted numbers, and yet he was also a fostered orphan who had apparently been raised in a toxic environment where he was taught the only thing he had of value was his looks—and it was of such value that it was totally normal for females to chase and assault him, taking that body autonomy away by force. It really was a big step for him to be open, to reach out for her, and to make the offer. He did choose her to ask for sex. That meant something. She was important to him.

But it wasn’t enough.

She let him squeeze her hand until his breathing evened and his brows lightened.

A noise dinged.

He looked up, released her, and flew to the control panel overhead.

She finished brushing her hair and twirled it into a bun. “Time to save the world?”

“Yes. We’re landing now.” He floated down to the floor, frowned at her appearance, and reached for her brush. “May I?”

She was no great stylist. Nicole handed it over.

He spent five minutes brushing, pinching, and finessing, and he used heretofore undiscovered goop and spray and pins within a small black box in the wardrobe. He finally stepped back and nodded. The beeping of the console above summoned him.

She found a mirror and gaped.

He’d created way more hair. How? Alex had teased out little wisps to soften her angular face. Instead of a simple bun, he’d made little twists leading up to the main bun, wrapped them around, and the bun itself looked fluffy with volume. He’d added cute gold pins with dangling stars that matched her boots. With the well-fitted tunic and leggings, she looked like a model.

Nicole touched her cheek. “How did you…”

The wall beside her turned into a massive screen that displayed what she guessed was the outside. The planet—er, planetite—before her looked like a massive red rock, like Mars with extra black fissures.

Alex landed beside her. “Welcome to Inferno.”

“That’s the name?” She marveled at the spectacular sprays of lava and bubbling pools of something dark and green. “How can anyone live here?”

“Very securely.”

The view tipped down and into a massive black tunnel that seemed like it was eating the world. Lava that spilled over the sides turned to steam and rock. Their ship plunged downward, and a strange white powder coated the walls, reflecting light from the inside. An underground world unfolded like the mythical civilization in Journey to the Center of the Earth, but without any plants. Just rock mesas and canyons, totally impassable to anyone who couldn’t fly.

Lights glowed out from a main structure, and three wings sprouted off it, with hundreds of smaller lights spreading from those.

The ship angled toward one wing on the left and lowered to a landing pad. The sheer white cliffs loomed. They touched down, and the screen darkened.

Alex dropped the bathrobe, stepped back, and shifted. His scales poured over his elongating body, and he grew in size, filling the space with magnificence. He gently clasped her in his claws, caging her. “Let’s go.”

“I could ride your neck,” she offered. “That would be awesome. Dragon rider, ho!”

He eyed her, and even though he no longer had eyebrows, she swore that the ridge above his eye lifted in skepticism. “And how are you at the other forms of human animal riding? Horse, dromedary, elephant?”

“I don’t have any practice.”

“You’ll fall off. So no thanks, allow me.”

He floated effortlessly through the ship, mostly dropping down.

A gust of hellish, volcanic-scented air made her sneeze violently.

He sneezed as well and sniffled. “Ah, yes. The cologne of the Inferno. Never forgotten, never missed.”

“Heh.” A wave of heat rolled up her body as if she’d left a snowy airport and landed in a summer desert. Sweat broke out on her body, and it itched. Her eyes watered. “Ugh. Is this supposed to happen?”

“Your whole body feels like it’s been coated in pepper? Yes. This is why you see no one outside. Air filters scrub it from the interior.”

He dropped from the ship into a glass tunnel and approached the palatial structure. Sheer, blocky cliffs overhead disappeared, and they were inside. Alex stopped at a portal. An airlock closed behind them. Air blasted them—clearer air—and while it still felt a little thin, she wasn’t light-headed. Not up for running a mile, but who was? Honestly, though, she wouldn’t want to walk a mile like this either. Maybe not even down a hall. She relaxed against Alex’s forearm and sucked in deep breaths.

“It’ll get better,” he promised.

She chose to believe him.

The interior door opened overhead, and he floated up into the main room. The portal closed. Alex set her down on the powder-coated white floor.

A puff of the chalk dusted her legs.

“I regret my black outfit,” she lamented.

“Shake it off.”

She did.

Zap.

With a sharp pinch of static electricity, the dust jumped off her clothes and settled onto the floor again. “Whoa. That’s freaky.”

“Pick up your feet and keep one hand touching the wall.” Alex walked beside her, his wings over her head and his gaze watchful. The glass dome covering the courtyard was hundreds of feet up, giving a wide open space to fly, but he walked beside her in a quiet lumber to a series of cave entrances adorned with all kinds of crystals and minerals.

She followed him into the first cave.

It was mammoth, built for someone larger than Alex as a dragon, and very much not at scale for her. She saw how the halls extended up and off, so far out of reach, it wasn’t funny, like tunnels. She was like an ant in a farm.

“Stay close to me,” he admonished, slowing for her to catch up. “I won’t let them hurt you.”

“Them?” she repeated, hurrying. “Them, who?”

“My foster family.”

Alex’s nervousness rose as he lumbered into the estate where he’d spent most of his formative years.

The small apertures, flightworthy open spaces, and hidden bolt-holes made this cavern well equipped for defense. It had been generations since teeth-to-claw combat had broken out in these quarters, but the ancient cries seemed to echo in the stains that might be simple colorations of rock or might be a memory of an end more sinister.

Nicole gazed up at the miles of tunnels out of her reach overhead and shook her head. “I’m at the bottom of the ant farm.”

“Mm?”

“Nothing.” She rotated her shoulders and flexed her fingers, skipped a couple of steps, and zapped the wall. “I’m not used to hanging out in a place that’s very obviously not for me.”

How funny; that was exactly how he felt about his entire childhood.

Even now.

And just like back then, he didn’t have a choice. Ironstone drew him in with deadly arms. He could go into them or be crushed.

He would go into them with a plan to attack the heart.

“Is there somewhere around here I can take a shower?” Nicole asked.

“No. I can provide you with a dust bath. But that is designed for dragon scales.”

“I don’t think that’s going to do it.”

They passed another narrow aperture—useful for closing off, hard to attack from the outside—and stepped into cozier, more familiar territory. His foster sister had a cavern suite, but she’d always spent her time in her parents’ small archives, and from his youngest memories, so had he. Alex collected Nicole again and dropped into the chasm to the lowest chamber.

The wide floor was not dusted with static sand, but swept clean. View screens lined the walls.

His foster sister hunched over a control panel, frowning. Her scales were colorless to the point of being gray, and she squinted so hard that she only gave the impression of being confused. “Alexandrite, you’re here. Mother and Father are getting ready. There’s been a change of plan.”

His nerves spiked. “Again?”

“It may work in our favor.” She closed the panel, turned away, and her gaze skated over Nicole to center on Alex. “The Triple Crown has changed to a human theme. Everyone is to come in human form, wearing human-form clothing.”

“But we’re celebrating the three hundredth anniversary of the Colony mines.”

“Yes. I too think it’s indicative of the family’s new direction. Most human-form items right now are from Earth.”

“That’s ominous,” Nicole piped up.

Iolite blinked as though she didn’t know where the extra noise had come from. Her gaze trailed down Alex’s side to Nicole. Indigo seeped into her irises as she focused. “What is this?”

“My…Nicole.” His scales shivered with unease. “She’s from Earth.”

“And why is she here, in Mother’s cavern?”

“Because if we’re right about the family’s intentions, it’s safer for her here.”

Iolite’s head tilted. Tasteful aristocratic silver piercings tinkled from her eye ridges, nostrils, and above the knuckles of her claws. “I don’t understand. This isn’t a time for distractions.”

“She’s the opposite of a distraction. Her presence…helps me to concentrate.”

Iolite studied him. Her skepticism, muted as she always was, made his scales shiver again. “What does she know?”

He struggled to control his reactions. “Enough.”

“The hull?”

He nodded.

“The rest of it?”

“She knows enough.”

Iolite stared. “What if she’s captured?”

“She’ll stay here where it’s safe.”

Iolite reviewed Nicole’s quiet presence, and irritation flashed across her features. “Another change. We already have too much change to control.”

“It was necessary, and she won’t be a problem. So long as she’s protected somewhere. Out of sight. Safe.”

“You may store her in my outer chambers.” Iolite launched into the air, a zephyr of a dragon, and her winged span made him duck and shelter Nicole. He collected Nicole and floated after her, contained as always.

Nicole hugged his chest. “I have never felt so small.”

“You’ll be fine.” But was he reassuring himself or her?

Iolite led him to her chambers branched off the main courtyard, which had bubbles of smaller caves as well as massive vents. She showed Alex the chamber, and he dropped Nicole off. Nicole’s worry reflected his expression.

“I’ll be back shortly,” he promised.

She clutched his claw. “When you said you’d protect me from your foster family…”

“Iolite will never hurt you.”

“She’s irritated.”

“We’re all on edge. It’s not you. She’s the only one who’s never betrayed me.”

Nicole’s brows slowly lifted, and a sardonic smile twisted her lips. “That’s not much to brag about. Wow.”

“In my situation, it is.”

She shook her head and squeezed his neck in a hug, then backed off, laughing darkly. “Therapy. You need lots and lots of therapy.”

“I will collect it from you when this is done. You have my promise.”

“Hey.” She stopped him with a hand on his dragon forearm. “Is this party a thousand miles away?”

He sobered. “No.”

“I assume bombing it is a last resort for you, then.”

It was now.

She still looked worried.

He lowered his head and nudged her shoulder enough to rock her onto her other foot. “I have to collect my therapy. And I will. Prepare yourself for my head in your lap again. This time, perhaps, we will skip the clothing.”

She flushed. “Skip the clothes?”

He lowered his voice. “I promise you’ll enjoy it.”

He turned and launched into the air, but, glancing back, he enjoyed her startled, then hungry gaze.

“No friends with benefits!” she called after him.

His heart eased as he flew away.

Nicole was entirely safe in Iolite’s chambers. She would stay out of sight of his foster parents. They were a headache he didn’t need.

And as for Nicole herself…

Yes, he was upset by her rejection, but it had fled when he’d seen her adorable attempt at self-beautification. He’d been compelled to neaten her to acceptability so that no one else could reject her.

Worrying about her well-being, physical and now emotional, should irritate him. But her presence strengthened his reserves. As if he would perform better because he knew her life relied on his.

Probably this was because he had all the power in their relationship.

She might be able to control her reaction to him, and she might be able to reject him despite her attraction, but he had the upper hand over her.

She loved him.

He’d won.

And when he returned successfully from his mission, he would use that power to prove it.

* * *

Nicole hugged the walls of the giant-size room.

When Jack went up the beanstalk, the story did a pretty good job of emphasizing how everything was super big, but living the story just made Nicole feel extra small.

More silver benches sat scattered across floors inlaid with gemstones and sheets of precious metals. Not in a pattern and not like ornamentation. There were just hunks of rock plastered around. But the chamber was still beautiful in a spartan kind of way.

And he said she was safe here with Iolite, but the female dragon had been twice Alex’s size. Alex was the size of a large van, but Iolite had been the size of a two-story house. Even larger than Amber, Darcy’s wife, who was no slouch in the dragon-size department. The way she’d looked at Nicole, like she was less than an ant, hadn’t felt safe at all.

And she was supposed to stay here, alone, until Alex completed a dangerous spy mission or the world blew up.

Hopefully the former.

But if it was the latter, Earth was equally screwed, and hey, she’d never know…

An elementary-aged boy ran in wearing play clothes, fuzzy slippers, and a child-sized bathrobe. He bounced over to her, leaping with both legs and soaring with every bounce, until he landed right in front of her. “Hi!”

She leaned back. He was adorable. “Hello.”

His eyes sparkled with tiny iridescent flecks. He had short, spiky black hair, and lines of sparkles danced up and down his neck and across his wide cheekbones. “I’m Mica. Who’re you?”

She placed him at about seven, plus or minus a couple of years. “I’m Nicole.”

“What mineral’s a Nicole?”

“I don’t have one. I’m a human.”

His eyes sparkled. “That means you can’t do this?” His face morphed into a long snout—so if he grew to full size, he’d probably be the size of a big dog, like a mastiff.

“That’s right,” she agreed.

“And you can’t do this?” He snatched her arm in his teeth. Little pricks felt like teeth in the mouth of a growling dog and sent warning signals screaming to her brain. It was cute on a puppy, but sometimes still painful. Not so cute on a full-grown mastiff.

His eyes were still laughing.

She channeled her inner second-grade teacher. “Stop that.”

His eyes widened. His voice was muffled with her arm in his mouth. “Wha?”

“Right now. That’s not an appropriate way to interact with humans.”

His brows drew down.

“Let go, or there’s going to be, uh, consequences.”

“Consequences?”

“And you’re not going to like them. At all.”

He released her arm and looked even cuter as a half-dragon boy stuck in a child’s suit with sparkly black scales. His tone reflected curiosity, not censure. “What kind of consequences?”

She had no idea.

But she still had to channel, set her boundaries, even with kids. “We will not be friends, for one. My friends don’t bite my arm.”

“Mine do!” He bounced excitedly, each leap reaching her head, before floating back down to the ground. “You can be my friend!”

“Absolutely not. I will not be friends with biters.”

“I didn’t actually bite down.” He lowered to the ground and stayed there. “Why not?”

“It hurts my skin. I don’t have the protective scales you do.”

“Why not?”

“I’m human.”

He frowned as if this was a foreign concept.

“You are too sometimes,” she reminded him.

“Only when I want to be.”

“I am even when I don’t want to be.” She checked, and despite how it had felt, his bladelike teeth hadn’t actually broken the skin.

“How awful!” He bounced around her in a circle, leaping with interspecies energy that returned her smile.

“Mica!” A man hurried to collect the child. “Your mother ordered us to wait in the transport.”

Mica stopped and whined. “Father, it’s so boring in the transport.”

“Shift your face to human. Don’t embarrass me again.” Mica’s father straightened Mica’s playsuit and robe belt.

His own hair was a silver color, matching a sort of oily shimmer in his eyes, and his hair was held back at the nape like a middle-aged Ichabod Crane. He ushered Mica from the room without glancing in Nicole’s direction.

In the doorway—which was a funny way of saying the massive aperture between this cave and the next—the duo passed an imperious woman in a belted lavender gown. She was so large and proud with her shoulders pulled back, she reminded Nicole of a figurehead at the prow of a ship.

“Iolite.” The man shrank from her and bowed low; he kept his hands on Mica’s shoulders, and Mica also bowed.

“You’re supposed to be on the transport, Silverin.”

“Yes. I am very sorry. We are going there now.”

She stared at him for a long, silent moment. Even from across the cavern, Nicole could see the males dying inside. When Iolite turned away without further comment, Silverin fled as though he’d escaped, and Mica bounded after him.

Alex thought Iolite wouldn’t hurt Nicole, but Iolite’s own kid and husband obviously didn’t share his confidence.

Iolite floated across the floor toward Nicole.

As a human, she was plump and imperious like a Victorian figure. But that might also be the fault of what Nicole now realized was the full tracksuit she wore, or the massive furry lavender bathrobe tied around her middle that added several inches outward. She had short brown hair trimmed to a pixie, pale bluish skin that showed her veins, and bluish-lavender lips that matched her eyes. And Nicole got the sense that was her natural lip color without any makeup.

Iolite landed in front of her. “Why did Alex bring you here?”

Nicole immediately put up her guard. “You’ll have to ask him.”

“I did, and his answer was unsatisfactory.”

“I can’t help you.”

Iolite stared. Her gaze shifted from indigo to lavender to colorless gray and back to indigo. It was more than a little unnerving. “Are you his mate?”

Nicole snapped back, “One hundred percent no.”

“His brothers have taken humans for mates. I never thought he would lower himself, but here you are.”

“We’re just friends.”

“Alex doesn’t have friends.”

“He does now.”

Iolite floated and somehow seemed to grow a little larger, her shoulders straining the robe’s fabric. Her skin shimmered with lavender. “I have known him his entire life, human.”

“He’s been on Earth for five years, dragon. Things change.”

Iolite stared at her. “Do you think I’m stupid?”

“Well, you obviously think I am, so why are you wasting your time asking me?” Nicole hopped up on the bench in a show of casual waiting. “Ask Alex. He assured me that I can trust you because you’re the ‘only one’ who’s never betrayed him.”

Iolite’s eyes shifted to indigo again, and she lowered herself fully to the floor, settling on her slippers that Nicole suddenly noticed were pink and had little bunny ears on the front.

“Curious,” Iolite said.

Alex pushed in a floating coffee cart and rested it between them. Instead of his usual perfect business suit, he wore a gray velour bathrobe over a teal tracksuit with white piping.

Nicole gaped at him. “What are you wearing?”

“Formal attire.” He wore darker gray clog slippers with puffy white Sherpa fleece. “Don’t you think humans should adopt this mode of dress? You would transact more intelligently in social settings if your clothing were more efficient.”

“I…yeah. I guess.” She looked down at her cute outfit and kicked her boots. “I feel overdressed.”

“Don’t. You aren’t.”

“You look like a servant,” Iolite agreed with disdain.

“Well, great,” she muttered. “Is that coffee cart for me?”

“Sadly, no. It’s part of my birthday gift to the matriarch.”

“You brought a whole cart and you fed me muck? I could have made us espresso.”

He laughed. “As promised, honesty with a side of caffeine.”

“Alexandrite? Where are they? Iolite? There they are!” Two older people in bathrobes and slippers floated in.

Alex flew to intercept them. “Charoite, Genthelvite.” He bowed, the cold mask in place. “I am ready. I apologize for causing you to look for me.”

“Indeed.” The older male, Genthelvite, had buttery yellow skin with darkening brown spots. Thin hairs had been combed over his round head. He had the barrel chest of a broad strong male, but aggressive vanity hadn’t matched his meager strength, and he was frail. “What’s this floating device here? You can’t bring this to our matriarch. Where is your stone?”

“This is a human espresso machine of the highest caliber. It accompanies my gift for the matriarch.”

“Which is?”

Alex cleared his throat. “The last bag of a highly coveted roast known as Dragon Coffee.”

“Last bag?” Iolite considered the bag in the center of the machine with opaque gray eyes. “I think she will like it better than any stone.”

“She will not like it. You’ll bring dishonor on our family. This reckless—”

The older female, Charoite, raised a clawed index finger, and Genthelvite cut off midbreath. She was even frailer, her eyes a beautiful classic purple with white cataract spots, with totally white hair. She was also large and billowy, sort of insubstantial. A great beauty who was weathered to a pale shadow of her former self.

Charoite jabbed her index finger at the espresso cart. “This is not your husband, Iolite.”

“No, it is Alexandrite.”

“No, no, the other one.” She squinted at Nicole. “What is this intruder? In my house?”

“No intruder,” Alex said.

“Anyone I do not approve is an intruder, Alexandrite. You know this.”

“Ah, yes, but—”

“I will call the house guard,” Genthelvite said.

“No, that will take too long.” Charoite showed her teeth. “Get rid of it yourself.”

Alex’s chest contracted with his foster mother’s order.

His foster father gathered his robe to hop across and do…something, neither of them knew what.

“I can explain.” Alex blocked their route to Nicole, who was frozen on the bench.

“Explain an intruder? No, Alexandrite, you will say nothing.”

“She’s not an intruder.” Iolite’s tone sharpened, and she floated between Alex and the elder dragons, stopping them. “She’s in my private chambers.”

“Iolite, I am your matriarch. You will not bring anyone into my house without my approval. And Chrysotile will not approve.”

“I will tell her myself,” Genthelvite said. “Be careful, Daughter, or you will face the wrath of our beloved matriarch! She will rend—”

“What is she?” Charoite squinted at Nicole, cutting the male off. “Why is she here?”

Iolite glanced at Alex, silently berating him for causing this distraction, and then rotated the rest of the way to view Nicole. “She’s Alex’s human.”

“Human?” Charoite crossed the distance in a leap and landed in front of Nicole; Alex flew right behind. Her suspicion gave way to curiosity. “You’re Alex’s pet?”

“I’m his emotional-support human,” Nicole said dryly.

“Oh.” Confusion arrested his foster mother. She turned to Iolite and Genthelvite. “She’s a support human.”

“Alexandrite doesn’t need support,” his foster father said. “Put her out before she makes a mess.”

Charoite rounded on Alex, and he could tell that she wouldn’t be satisfied with just any answer. “Why is she here, Alexandrite? Isn’t she supposed to be on that backward planet, where she can’t inconvenience anyone?”

“She’s my personal barista,” Alex said.

“Alexandrite, any dragon can pull an espresso shot.”

“You say that because you’ve never had one pulled by a human.” He formed his lips into a superior smile that would both silence and infuriate his foster parents. “They’ve studied coffee for centuries. She’s studied for years. And you know the human creative flair. Most dragons know of the three most popular coffee drinks. Refined palates, thirty perhaps, and the exporters know a hundred.”

“No,” Charoite said.

“Yes. She knows more than you can fathom.”

Charoite peered at Nicole. “I can fathom a great deal.”

Alex tossed out a number. “Thousands.”

Silence filled the chamber. His foster parents were mildly impressed, and even more ill-tempered about it.

He continued, “Whatever you’ve thought of, she’s already made, tried, and iterated upon. It’s the human way. Coffee that is infinite. That’s why I brought her.”

Charoite, thankfully, turned away finally, dismissing Nicole and her irregular appearance from her mind. “And your gift for your matriarch?”

As usual, his foster mother hadn’t listened to anything the others had said. Alexandrite made a show of lifting the bag. “This coffee.”

Charoite held it up to her flat human nose. “Coffee? Chrysotile enjoys the substance as much as the next dragon, but this will not impress.”

“It is the greatest of its kind. A human invention so variable, so uncanny, it will never exist again. I have confirmed it. This was adored by the Gentleman’s Society so much that all who tasted it became addicted and consumed it without self-control. This is the last bag.”

Charoite’s white brows rose. “Ohhh.”

Genthelvite mirrored her, as if he hadn’t already heard the same news moments earlier. “That is quite good. She’ll like that. It wouldn’t be enough to get invited into her private chambers, not like an impressive boulder of alexandrite, which you won’t find on Earth because it only has tiny gemstones like pebbles in the claw, but this is—”

“Make me a cup.” Charoite pushed it at Alex, then changed her mind and gestured for Nicole. “Here. You, human. Down, and make me the cup.”

Nicole bobbed her head as though trying to avoid notice. She fixed her gaze on Alex, silently asking if it was okay.

He nodded.

She hopped off the bench and joined him at the coffee cart. “Um, you want me to pull an espresso? With this?”

“Yes.” He didn’t have to emphasize how important it was. The more easily he could smooth over his foster mother’s ruffled feelings, the sooner they could be on their way and Nicole could be safely ignored again here. “As efficiently as possible.”

She checked over the cart, finding the espresso machine’s power button. “The mini fridge is empty. Is this cart plumbed? I mean, it’s floating…”

A waterstone within the machine created infinite liquid, and the different substances were stored in their most compressed forms. A programmable spigot dispensed the various milks, common flavorings, and unusual ones. Another dispenser released the powders, and a third hose-attached spigot dispensed the syrups and creams.

“How much is in here?” she asked in a low voice, over the grind.

“Infinite.”

“This cart doesn’t have infinite milk.”

“The waterstone will produce a hundred billion cups of liquid, and the raw materials are enough to be combined into perhaps ten thousand drinks.”

“Ten thousand! Jeez, so you’re saying it’s like a Twinkie, and the metal packaging will break down before the supplies do?”

“Not at all. The metal will vastly outlast ten thousand years, much less—”

“Right.” She shook her head. “You have magical machines capable of producing all the possible components of an espresso stand, and probably the potential for anything else, and you eat unflavored oat mush. Unfathomable.”

“Is it ready yet?” Charoite demanded.

“Almost.” Nicole weighed and grimaced, adjusted the dial, and ground up another handful of beans.

She tasted and offered it to Alex. It had the bitter bite he remembered. She pulled three espresso shots for the dragons. Iolite, Charoite, and Genthelvite all drank.

“It is a small taste,” Charoite complained.

“You may drink more,” Alex said with a tight grin. “Of course, you should know that Aunt Chrysotile will ask where it has gone. I have already sent word ahead that I am bringing a full bag.”

She pouted.

“There are other roasts.” Alex pulled out several from the lower storage cabinet. Unlike the milk, flavorings, and powdered varieties of coffee, freshly roasted beans lost nuance when they were compressed, so they were placed in deoxygenated, near-freezing, lightless vacuum storage. Each individual bag was marked with how many days it had been exposed after its roast date until going into degradation-arresting storage.

“Nicole can fix you anything you like.”

All three dragons focused on her.

“Anything?” Charoite repeated.

Nicole swallowed. “Try me.”

“Very well, human barista. Give me something different.”

“Sure. What do you want?”

Charoite stared at her. “What do I want?”

“Ah, I understand.” Genthelvite handed over his cup. “I want my gorgeous female to be celebrated as the beautiful sister of our matriarch, and to receive the recognition she so richly deserves.”

Nicole blinked. “And?”

“And that is the kind of coffee you should make for me. Having studied centuries of coffee, surely you know what to serve an honorable ruler’s sister’s husband?”

“Yeah.” Nicole glared at Alex and loaded a shot. “Of course I do. I was just wondering if you wanted whip.”

“No, I do not need anyone whipped.”

She made him an Italian-style cappuccino. He seemed satisfied, and the others told her their wants. Charoite’s was to awaken fabulously refreshed, feeling younger and more beautiful, and Iolite’s was to accurately predict the future. Her parents mocked her, and she absorbed their comments stoically. Nicole silenced them with their drinks: a lavender steamer for Charoite, and a latte infused with cinnamon and cardamom for Iolite.

“This drink is oddly colored,” Charoite noted, ignoring that it matched her scales. “I cannot taste the coffee.”

“Lavender is essential for sleep,” Nicole promised. “And Iolite’s cardamom is for awakening the mind. It’s very spiritual.”

“Hmm. Well, very well, I can see why you took the human, Alexandrite, but we cannot stand here all day. We must go.”

Genthelvite immediately rose and began ushering Alex and Iolite out.

Charoite slowly sipped her cup while the rest of the family hopped to do her bidding.

Alex had Nicole make herself a drink while he dispensed cups of milk, water, and coffee.

He must be the only dragon male who’d ever been to Earth and failed to provide adequate food to a human. Nicole made herself an iced macchiato and seemed to forgive him. He closed up the cart.

This performance had been a useful test of the equipment, although certainly Chrysotile had a private espresso machine. All dragons did.

“Alexandrite, come!” Charoite raised her hand imperiously.

He swooped to take it and escorted her out of the room.

Nicole would be safe here.

He got one last look at her with the cups, sipping the macchiato on the silver bench.

His heart squeezed.

He joined Iolite, her husband Silverin and dragonlet Mica, and his foster parents on the transport platform to the matriarch’s lair.

His hardest, deadliest task was about to begin.

But no matter what happened, Nicole would be safe.

* * *

Nicole watched Alex leave with the other dragons.

It seemed oddly quiet with them gone. The coffee cart stood ready to go by the door, so she assumed someone would be back for it, and waited for that accordingly.

The cups of water, milk, and coffee were set out on the bench next to her.

Ha ha, she really was a human pet in a dragon world.

She took off the necklace and aimed it at herself in order to make this joke for Tara to see later, assuming there was a later. “This thing is so cool. And yet, I still need a selfie stick.”

She put the necklace back on, hopped off the bench, and began exploring the gigantic cavern. “Nicole and the Beanstalk,” she murmured aloud.

What treasures were in the rest of the caverns?

Given the attitudes of his family, she couldn’t risk checking them out. She was clearly a roach, a pest animal to his foster parents, and she didn’t want to aggravate them by stumbling into the wrong place.

She’d been practicing for hanging out alone her entire life.

Actually—

Two dragons flew into the vast chamber, startling her. She scampered back to the bench.

The duo hovered over the coffee cart, then flew out of the room again.

Nicole sipped her macchiato while she watched the doorway. They would be back.

After the flavorless protein drink, the sugar burst of sweet-and-salty chocolate cream made her extra grateful for the variety of tastes she enjoyed every day.

A short time later, two large men walked in. Their hair and eye color matched the earlier two dragons, so they were probably the same men. As humans, they wore black boxers and Dracula capes. They pushed the coffee cart out the aperture.

A third dragon-human, female with brown hair slicked against her skull, landed neatly in front of Nicole. “It is time.”

Nicole froze. “Time? Time for what?”

“To get on the transport.”

“Transport?”

“To the main house. For the gifting ceremony.” She floated behind Nicole and gestured for her to walk out the door after the cart.

“Gifting?” Nicole edged back, and the female floated forward, effectively herding Nicole across the chamber. “Oh, no. I don’t go. That’s just the coffee cart.”

“You operate the coffee cart.”

“No, Alex should have told you. I’m supposed to remain here.”

“You are the human barista.” The dragon female herded Nicole out of the chamber and after the other dragons to follow the cart.

“Yes, but…uh…can you call Alex?”

“No.”

“Um, please? He’s expecting to find me here. He’s not going to be pleased if I’m gone.”

The dragon herded her onto a bullet-shaped car, closed them in, and swiped controls. “We do not care about the pleasure of the foster dragon. Our orders come from the matriarch of this house, Charoite.”

“She doesn’t know…”

The car whooshed silently out of the house and crossed the main cavern.

Maybe this was okay. Maybe plans changed and Alex couldn’t tell her. Maybe everything would work out for the best.

Sure.

The ill feeling in the pit of her stomach squeezed against her lie.

They flew over a small city of block rooms, all of them seemingly empty, and over a no-man’s land of bubbly orange-and-teal pools, toward a jagged natural castle carved into the interior cliffs. A large gate marked the entrance point.

Their transport jostled between other bullet-shaped flying cars. They landed in a designated area near the entrance.

A crowd of dragons gathered near the grand triptych of arches carved from the rock.

Above the arches, lines of guns aimed down.

A fortress inside a volcano planet.

“Looks like they take security seriously,” Nicole commented, mostly to herself.

The other dragons ignored her.

Their transport settled on the stone, and the top folded up.

The two large males pushed the coffee cart down the gangplank to the ground. Their shoulders were thrown back and their noses lifted, like they had an important job and were going to do it as haughtily as possible.

The female gestured for Nicole to follow, and she closed off any escape.

Dragons in bathrobes, slippers, and tracksuits dotted the main entrance gate like pretty Easter eggs.

Nicole joined in the line of demurely attired staff. Interestingly, there was a lot more variety, from T-shirts to tank tops to summer dresses to suits, with and without shoes, and the dragons clearly had no idea, or didn’t care, which outfit was supposed to go on who. It was mix and match like a kid’s story time. The head did not match the middle or the bottom.

Nobody gave Nicole a second glance, so that was good.

Sure, maybe this was all going according to plan, and Alex had just left her out of this contingency. He was never forthcoming on his own, right? She had to drag secrets out of him.

Maybe this was fine…

They approached the giant triptych entrance.

No guests entered yet; they all pooled around the entrance.

The large middle arch was crowned by dirty white cubic boulders marked by gray-and-yellow bands. The dais beneath that raised arch was empty, and guards ranged behind it, blocking the entrance with long gold staffs.

Beneath the two side arches, families stood on the daises a full body-length above the crowd.

The far right arch was crowned with sharp clusters of red spikes like a mass of sea urchins or Martian grass. Four inhuman humans preened on the dais beneath it: a proud house of a woman who grinned with broken red teeth, a balding MMA fighter man who kissed her fingertips in devotion, a male about Alex’s age with black hair and eyes like chipped black glass, and a stocky bald woman Nicole’s age with a bored expression and an angry swagger, like she was looking for a fight. She wore a lime-green tracksuit and bathrobe.

The left arch, closest to the smaller unadorned arches that marked the staff entrance, was crowned with a gorgeous deep-purple cabochon. The polished side was rich multipurple hues ranging from bruised black to slight lavender. On the dais stood the inhuman humans: Charoite posing nobly in front of solicitous Genthelvite, Iolite standing behind them with Silverin and Mica, and in the far back, as an afterthought, Alex.

The staff line slowed as guards reviewed some of the items being carried in. Nicole stopped behind the dragons with the coffee cart.

Should she signal? Did he know?

While Nicole watched, Alex bent down and tilted his ear to listen to something Iolite murmured. His expression remained neutral, but a deep coldness froze his face.

She’d thought he’d been cold before, but either something truly awful had happened, or he was animated only with her. Here, he was as icy as the rocks around them.

Were they talking about her?

Alex’s icy gaze traveled over the crowds, and he made a noncommittal shrug before straightening. As he straightened, his gaze roved across the landing area and the staff area. He passed over her with no reaction.

Huh. He must know, then. This must all be a part of his plan.

The line started moving again.

His gaze returned to her region again.

She had to look away so as to keep up with the coffee cart and also not run into anyone. When she checked again for one last look at Alex, his gaze had returned.

He fixed on her. And several emotions visibly crossed his previously impassive face.

Shock.

Horror.

Fear.

The matching feelings squeezed her belly as she trudged through the staff archway and into the dragon’s den.

This was not part of his plan. He did not know what to do about her being here.

This would not be fine.

Alex’s heart squeezed like it had been smashed into a rock. His head pounded. A strange humming filled his ears.

Nicole was here.

Nicole is here.

He held himself in place through the rest of the entrance display period and began the long walk through the ceremonial caverns toward the inner pavilion.

“Alexandrite!” One of his least favorite dragons, his foster cousin Titanite, flew above the others. “I’m coming for you, my darling. Where are you?”

He ducked his head.

His foster parents laughed.

“She still has an eye for a rare dragonlet,” Charoite said to her sister, the snaggle-toothed red Crocoite.

“He doesn’t deserve her,” Crocoite boomed in a dominant voice.

“Oh, of course, I agree.” Charoite shrank from her eldest sister’s loud proclamation. “But isn’t it cute? How long they’ve had their adorable rivalry?”

“I’m going to marry you,” Titanite called out. “And then I’m going to murder you.”

All the parents laughed.

Iolite looked at Silverin, and her husband tucked Mica under his arm. She would not aggravate the situation, but she’d always defended Alex in the times he’d been unable to escape.

Titanite was still wearing her bathrobe and tracksuit, but her rough screeching hurt his ears. She’d sheared off her human hair, as usual, so that there would be no advantage in a fight.

It wouldn’t be a family function if Cousin Titanite wasn’t trying to kill him.

And that was just one more thing he didn’t need.

Titanite’s father, Uncle Wulfenite, called out to her. “Come down, my love. That low caste isn’t worth your time.”

She pouted and descended.

Alex could barely keep an eye on her to keep his family between them. His head remained aswivel. He needed to get away as soon as possible. Nicole could not be here.

Iolite noticed his distraction. “Don’t look so unsettled. Everyone here has eyes.”

“Nicole is here,” he said tightly.

A slight frown marred her impervious expression. Iolite had long ago mastered her public feelings, and had taught him the self-preserving art. “Your speech to my parents must have been too convincing. I overheard Mother say something to the house guards when we arrived.”

“And you didn’t mention it to me?”

“No, because I focused on your mission.”

“I have to find her.”

“Alex.” Her gaze turned from colorless gray to hard lavender. “Failure is death.”

“I know.” He flexed his fingers. Claws pinched the skin of his palms. He wanted to slash something. “She isn’t prepared. Anything can happen to her.”

She relented. “Don’t be gone long. And don’t run into Titanite.”

Iolite turned to greet a good family friend, who bounced a new dragonlet. While the male engaged Silverin, the female drew her aside for a secret chat.

So many secrets.

He broke away just before the main pavilion where everyone would celebrate—and where the ship hulls would be displayed—and flew down the empty hall. He’d spent more time in the narrow staff tunnels of the compound than any family member, and more time in the aristocrat pavilions than any staff. His scales and his caste had allowed him into places usually neither were allowed.

Alex ducked around the corner, his heart pounding.

Shadows moved through the hall. Through the next archway, he’d find the staff loading area. One of those shadows must be Nicole…

A human-form dragon stepped into his way. Her jet-black hair was bound into two topknots, her yoga pants and tank top were covered by an open black robe, and her deep-blue eyes blazed. “Guests are not allowed in this hall.”

“Ultramarine.” He greeted the head of the house security. “I need my gift for the matriarch.”

“Gifts will be acknowledged at the end of the ceremony.”

“Mother sent over one that Chrysotile will have no use for.”

“They will be inspected and received in Chrysotile’s private chambers, as always.”

The private chambers were the last place Alex wanted Nicole. Ever. “Can’t I just slip back? For a few minutes, I’ll—”

“Alex!” Nicole stopped and stepped through the archway while the cart and the rest of the house dragons passed by.

“Nicole.” Relief pounded through him. He stepped toward her.

That made him unwary.

He crossed Ultramarine, who looked irritated but allowed it, when a shriek pierced his ear.

Titanite flew through the staff area from behind Nicole and veered for him, her claws aimed at his face.

* * *

Nicole was so grateful to see Alex that the attack didn’t, at first, register.

The bald woman in the lime-green outfit launched right over her head and screeched at Alex. Claws out, like a weird human harpy, she slashed at his face.

He rolled and dove.

The woman bounced off the wall and pivoted. “Die!”

Alex rolled backward.

The woman’s claws slashed where his face had been moments before.

“Titanite!” Ultramarine, the guardswoman whom Nicole had overheard talking with Alex, stepped out with a long gold bo staff. “Stop!”

The woman, Titanite, flew after Alex. “Don’t run, my love. I’m going to get you!”

He flew down the hall, dodged her, and raced the other way. He flew over Nicole.

Titanite screeched with excitement at the pursuit.

Ultramarine smacked the base of the bo into the stone floor. The top split into three talons that arced electricity. She spoke with calm, quiet authority. “Stop.”

Titanite slowed to a stop. “How dare you stop me?”

Ultramarine’s arms shimmered with deep-blue scales. “No fighting during the Triple Crown.”

“We’re not fighting.” Titanite’s eyes glowed with lime-green fire, and the smile that split her lips was assured. “He’s going to marry me. I want to give him a love bite.”

“No mating either.” Ultramarine pointed the forked bo. “Return to the guest pavilion.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Now.”

Titanite fluttered her lashes at Alex. “See you later, lover.” She turned and strolled back the way she had come.

Alex rose to his feet and dusted off his bathrobe. Despite having just defended himself from an attack, every hair remained in place, and he’d not even picked up any lint.

Ultramarine turned to him. “You as well.”

He cupped Nicole’s elbow. “The house has no use for a human. Bring out her espresso stand, and she will provide refreshments to guests.”

Ultramarine focused on Nicole for a long, pensive moment.

Alex didn’t seem to notice because he was still picking off imaginary hairs. A flicker of some emotion crossed Ultramarine’s face. Suspicion? Whatever it was, she closed off the feeling before Nicole could parse it and turned on her heel. “The cart will be sent out.”

She returned to the staffing area.

Alex walked Nicole a few steps away, looked both directions, and then backed her into a small private alcove. He pressed her against the warm wall, and for a second, she thought he was hiding from Titanite again. Then he started shaking.

She hugged him. “It’s okay.”

A furious whisper met that reassurance. “What are you doing here?”

“They said I had to come—”

“I know.” He pulled back and smoothed strands of hair from her face. It figured that while he survived a fight looking perfect, she couldn’t even walk down a corridor without becoming disheveled. “My foster mother thought you were part of the gift.”

She fought the lick of pain in her chest. “Am I?”

“No!” He cupped her face. “Even if the entire Empire is in danger, I will not give you to those monsters.”

“But your revenge…”

“Does not require your sacrifice. Does not require…” He seemed to want to say more but struggled with the words. “I will get my revenge, but not at the cost of you. Okay? We have to get you out of here.”

“How?”

He shook his head. And then, still lost for what to say, wild-eyed and stressed for the first time that she’d ever seen, he pressed in again and kissed her.

Desperation fueled their union. Fear, and the need for reassurance. He squeezed her shoulder, her hand, her thigh. His cock pressed rigid against her waist. His tongue plumbed her willing depths, wet and hungering.

He touched off a powder keg.

She went up for him, body on fire, mind reeling.

He showed her a depth of need he’d never shown anyone. And when he ripped away, cognizant of a danger she couldn’t hear or see, the emotion in his eyes shocked her. This had been missing before. Anger, yes. But never this raw, desperate need.

“Tell me what to do,” she said unsteadily.

“Stay in the pavilion. Make espresso if you’re asked, and keep your head down.” He gripped her hand tightly and walked cautiously down the hall where Titanite had retreated. Guards stood within hidden alcoves like the empty one they’d just left. Their presence seemed to reassure him. His shoulders lowered and his stride lengthened.

“What about your mission?” she murmured.

“Don’t worry about that. I’ve got it planned.”

They reached the mouth of the inner pavilion, which was at the very top side of a great inner amphitheater. Alex stayed in the shadow. Instead of seats, there were three leveled tiers of empty space. Two staircases carved into the rock connected the tiers. All focused on a massive stage.

Alex pointed at the lowest level nearest the stage. “I’ll be there.” He swung to the highest tier. “You’ll be there. Whatever you do, don’t draw attention to yourself. I can’t leave my area to check on you.”

Right. He was in a VIP section, and she was going to be in the peanut gallery. “Okay.”

“Chrysotile will greet the family and give a speech. We’ll leave directly after. If I don’t come for you then, stay with the coffee cart. Iolite will find you.”

Titanite flew up the left steps from the middle tier to the upper tier. “Alexandrite! My beloved fiancé, don’t hide. Where are you?” She disappeared.

His jaw clenched. “Stay away from Titanite.”

“Why would someone who hated you so much want to marry you?”

“So that she can have the maximum time alone to torture and kill me.”

“That’s not ordinary.”

“She’s bullied me my whole life. Ignore her.”

“Seriously, Alex. This is more than bullying. It’s extreme.”

Alex turned and looked at Nicole. A flicker of something crossed his features.

Wait a minute. “What are you concealing?”

He glared after Titanite. The rage in his eyes mirrored hers with at least as much heat. “I told you no lies.”

“Omission is still lying. You could have mentioned a homicidal cousin.”

His jaw clenched. “I can’t tell you about my relationship to every dragon here, or we’d be talking until tomorrow morning.”

“How many of them are trying to kill you?”

“Quite a few, actually, but I have only crossed them in self-defense.” He tilted his head, clearly trying to be honest. “Most of them.”

“Her too?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

Nicole put her fists on her hips. “What’s the real answer?”

He squinted like he wasn’t going to answer.

She pushed. “You never know. If she comes after me, knowing the truth might save my life.”

He glared at her. “I had her first love executed.”

Nicole’s body vibrated with shock. Her jaw came unhinged from her mouth. Her voice dropped to a tight hiss. “Alex!”

He looked away. “She deserved it.”

“Did he?!”

Alex glanced at her as if he wasn’t sure who he was, and then must have realized she was asking whether Titanite’s first love deserved to be executed. He rocked his head back and forth, clearly trying to formulate an acceptable-to-her answer without lying. “You ask the strangest questions.”

“What’s strange?” she demanded. “Whether you had an innocent man executed?”

“No one’s innocent.”

“What about me?”

His gaze focused on her like a laser. The colors shifted between his eyes, lavender to teal and back to lavender. He looked away again. “You’re innocent. As to whether Titanite’s ex deserved his fate? I don’t know. Clearly it’s not an action I can apologize for.”

“No wonder she’ll never forgive you.” Nicole shook her head. “Therapy. I prescribe all of you therapy. Hours and hours of therapy.”

Titanite flew down the right-side steps, calling for Alexandrite.

Alex’s eyes hardened. His arm went around Nicole, and he crushed her to his chest. “Don’t call attention to yourself. Stay away from Titanite. If anyone targets you for any reason, get out. Run, hide, await myself or Iolite. Got it?”

Nicole’s stomach dipped like the bottom of a roller coaster.

She nodded.

His face tightened into that desperation from before. He released her and flew down the tiers to the VIP area.

Nicole sucked in a deep breath and took her first step into the dragon pavilion.

* * *

Alex never felt so terrified in his life as he did watching Nicole enter the dragon pavilion.

A dangerous unease brewed in his breast. There was so much she needed to know, and he hadn’t prepared her for any of it. She didn’t have natural self-preservation.

Nicole was going to get herself in trouble.

He watched her peer down the too-large steps searching for him. Alex stood on the tier closest to the stage. Between them, all the families gathered. No one had dared not to send at least one representative. He followed Titanite’s progress up the right-side steps. She floated daintily past Nicole. Nicole pulled back and put her head down.

If Titanite realized Nicole’s value, Nicole could be hurt.

And he could do nothing.

Not without risking all their lives.

He turned. He had to focus.

Iolite swept into the space beside him. Her low voice conveyed tension. “There’s a problem.”

“Bigger than Nicole’s presence?”

“Worse. The hulls aren’t on display.”

He turned to face her. “That’s impossible.”

“Emery told me in the entranceway. Chrysotile planned to line the entrance hall with the hulls. Yesterday, she changed her mind.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, but it gets worse. I’ve heard the hull we wanted may have been destroyed.”

“How can it have been destroyed? That’s the proof needed to show House Zeolite that we own the Colonies.”

Her lips tightened, and her voice dropped even lower. “Perhaps whatever proof your brother found has already been leaked, and someone realized it was better to rest on our history.”

That changed everything.

He focused on Emery, the female dragon she’d mentioned. A younger female with a new husband and an infant dragonlet, she was related to Genthelvite through a parent’s marriage, making her main branch, but at the outer limit. She flitted from high-class aristocrat to high-class aristocrat. Given her youth, asking awkward questions might be overlooked.

“Can Emery confirm whether the hull was destroyed?”

“Not easily.” Iolite’s eyes shifted color, but her face remained impassive, as if she were making unimportant conversation. “I used her for another purpose.”

“This is critical.” Alex had a few hours to decide whether or not to attempt to break into the archives. If the hull they needed wasn’t inside, then he risked his life for nothing.

And on top of that, he had to worry about leaving Nicole.

Iolite lowered her voice. “Emery’s role does not require accessing the archives. If she delves too many times without an obvious reason… I can’t ask her.”

“She knows what’s at stake.”

“Alexandrite, she has a family.”

A low gong sounded, ending their conference.

Everyone respectfully roared the family name. “Ironstone! Ironstone! Ironstone!”

The trio of deadly sister dragons floated onto the stage.

The oldest, Crocoite, flounced to the right. She was a large, substantial female with glistening red teeth and sharp scales.

The youngest, Charoite, floated to the left. In comparison, she was a wisp, slender and frail, a beauty who’d faded to white.

The house matriarch floated from the recesses of the stage and took the center.

Chrysotile.

She wore off-white and grayish white to match the bands of her colors, and she was as tall as Charoite and as broad as Crocoite. Her irises were off-white as was her skin and hair. She stared out over the family, regal and unsettling, human but infinitely inhuman, dangerous and terrible.

Her two sisters shrank before her as if they made themselves smaller so as not to be a threat.

And Chrysotile looked younger than both of them. Vibrant, she seethed with unquestioned power.

The family dropped silent.

Staff flew forward and lowered the cordons separating the tiers.

Everyone formed a line to make reverences to the trio. Crocoite’s husband, Uncle Wulfenite, headed the line. Crocoite wiggled her little fingers at him and he grinned broadly.

They believe themselves above everyone and were actually a sickly sweet, loving couple. So of course, they had an entitled, insane daughter who they’d never dream of disciplining. Oh, and a son—Obsidian—who they largely ignored.

When it was Alex’s turn, he conveyed the appropriate greetings to the trio responsible for inflicting the present reign of terror.

Aunt Crocoite smirked at him.

His foster mother, Charoite, lowered her nose for the briefest acknowledgment of his presence.

Chrysotile caught and held his eyes as if she could see into his soul. A slight smile curved her lips.

His insides shivered.

She would gut him without hesitation.

After he finished, he floated to Iolite’s side. It was instinct. He had spent his entire youth in her dominant female shadow.

And now there were no hulls.

Could he dare try a suicide mission? Escape the pavilion, dive into the archives, bank on hitting at least one false hull. With security concentrated here, perhaps it was his best chance.

But Nicole was here, and he didn’t trust anyone, even Iolite, to get her out safely.

What were they going to do?

Nicole spent the time leading up to the matriarch viewing ceremony at the espresso cart.

She was aware of eyes on her as she set it up.

Nearby, staff members dispensed drinking water into clear crystal goblets. Another nozzle dispensed tasteless protein paste.

Even at a super-fancy party for one of the five richest dragon families in the universe, all they served was unflavored paste and water? No wonder her cart garnered a lot of covert interest, although no one actually came over and talked to her.

And that was good, as Nicole was trying to do absolutely everything Alex had told her so she wouldn’t be any more of a distraction from his mission.

The caverns were filled with weird gemstones. In the staff areas, mounds of rubies, diamonds, gold hunks, and sapphires the size of her head piled up in the corners. Some interesting panels had wavy streaks of brick red, white, and green, like tiger’s eye, only darker. Then there were pedestals filled with more hunks of purple, red spikes, and off-white cubes.

The dragons were obviously used to this. They clustered at the edge of their tier and stared down as though wishing they could move closer to the stage. Staff closed off the steps with velvet cords, although since dragons could fly, that was obviously for show.

The only ones who weren’t corralled were the important family.

While Nicole pulled her first espresso, Titanite flew up the far steps. “Alexandrite…where are you?” She cut a swath through the crowd, doubled back, and headed the opposite direction.

What was her story?

Titanite was beautiful, like all the dragons, and she pulled off being bald with well-sculpted brows, a symmetrical face, wide cheekbones, and an upturned nose that matched that on the red-toothed dragon who must be her mother. She was strong and wore sleeveless clothes to flex. Biceps, triceps, and all the rest rippled as she walked. It almost gave Nicole a girl crush. Titanite must be crazy strong.

She used different words, but the same rage simmered under her and Alex’s skins. They could be siblings, but instead they’d become nemeses. Apparently, they were just the product of the same environment.

Titanite passed Nicole’s cart.

Nicole ducked and pretended interest in one of the displays of white boulders the size of a small car. Grit pooled on a ledge. She reached out to brush the dust off.

“I wouldn’t touch that, human.” A familiar dragon sneered at her. His broad shoulders were contained within a bathrobe embroidered with red threads. Piercings dangled from his brows, cheeks, and nostrils. He was bald, and his teeth gleamed with silver. His aggressive yellow-green irises flashed on her with authority.

But it was the way he lifted his superior snoot in the air that clinched it. “The needlelike fibers will pierce your very cells.”

“Hey, you burned down my house,” she said.

He straightened and puffed out his chest. “I did not burn it down.”

She looked at him from under her brows. Was he really going to deny what had happened weeks ago to her face?

“I sneezed. You are the ones who placed a large white feline in my vicinity.” He sniffed cautiously. “You don’t have that monster with you, do you?”

“No, Miss Fluffles is living the organic-catnip-and-robot-mouse high life with my sister, Tara, in Silicon Valley.”

“Earth.” He sighed.

“So what was your name again?” she asked. “Chris-something?”

“Ah, yes. You knew me by my noble name Chrysoberyl, but Mother has recently concluded that it is no longer serving me and I should go by a shortened, more carefree version.”

“Chrys?”

“Beryl.” He puffed his chest. “The minerals are quite different, of course. But this version better emphasizes my playful, fun-loving nature.”

“Huh.”

“And as ‘Beryl,’ I may be able to slip into places where ‘Chrysoberyl’ isn’t allowed. So, how about one of those lattes, then? Caramel cinnamon, if you will.”

Well, she was here to serve espressos.

Nicole dialed in the grind and made his latte. It was nice to know somebody who didn’t immediately hate her, even if there was history between them, plus something something trying to blow up a hospital that Darcy had told her about that had gotten “Chrysoberyl” exiled from Earth in the first place. He wasn’t actively trying to kill her, so she’d give him a pass.

For now.

“So what was that rock?” she asked conversationally while tamping the basket.

“Chrysotile.”

“That makes sense. What about the purple and red?”

“The purple gemstones are, of course, charoite, and the red crystals are crocoite. Neither is as important to humans as chrysotile.”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You have. Don’t be stupid. What’s the material you used to use in your human buildings? The one that was fireproof? It’s now outlawed, and you have many rules about it.”

“Oh, you mean asbestos?”

“Chrysotile is the most important substance in your asbestos.”

“Asbestos!” She frothed the milk. “No wonder all of them are dusty. So what are you doing here?”

“I am, of course, representing the Carnelian branch proudly to the Ironstone matriarch. I am, of course, lightly pleochroic like my brother Sard, and therefore most pleasing to a purveyor of rare gemstones such as Chrysotile.”

“I heard your mom was joining another family.”

His eyes widened, and he lowered his voice to a hiss. “Don’t say that here! Everyone already knows, but you still can’t talk about it.” He straightened and finished his latte in one gulp, then handed her the cup. “Mother did send me with instructions not to cause trouble. That is why I will remain with you. Humans are naturally unimportant, so you will not be of any notice to anyone.” He handed her his cup. “Another.”

So she hadn’t thought of this originally, but his imperious tone set her off. She tapped a clean empty cup with her index finger. “Do you think I’m doing this for free?”

He patted his terrycloth robe. “I left my wallet of human money at Mother’s.”

“Uh-huh. And?”

“Mm.” His silver-pierced lips turned downward. “Do you take Argolian silver?”

“Sure, whatever.”

He deposited a marble-sized chunk of metal in her cup. It made a satisfying clink. “Extra whip.”

“You got it.”

She made and handed him his drink. He moved to the side, because, despite the cart, she was used to taking orders on one side and doing pickup on the other.

A woman in gray sidled up and dropped something red and shiny in her tip jar. “Raspberry cinnamon mocha with caramel-drizzled whipped cream.”

And she was in business.

Nicole made drinks at a good clip while her jar filled with interesting minerals and the occasional obvious gemstone. Except for Beryl, the dragons only ordered three drinks—drip, iced, or raspberry cinnamon mocha with caramel-drizzled whip—so she got pretty fast. On their side, the dragons chatted about coffee and politics.

“A real Earth human brewing human coffee,” they murmured. “Does it taste different? I think it tastes different…”

Beryl’s voice emerged over them, proud. “Yes, of course I know her. Her brother married my ex-fiancée.”

Then there was a gong and chanting, and her customers all went down and got in line.

The actual viewing ceremony was a weird silent affair where she and the other staff members watched the dragons pass in front of the trio of dragons on the stage. The crowd just literally stared like awkward passersby at a fatal car accident. At least, that was what it looked like from her vantage point hundreds of feet away, which honestly still felt way too close.

Crocoite was as big as a house, and Charoite haughty as a camel, but there was something wrong with Chrysotile.

She was angular and large, but her limbs folded up wrong, like she was a bug in human skin. And she had this dead-eye stare that made even the dragons in front of her wilt. Coupled with her weird off-white coloration—which was definitely not albino, but off-white—she came off like the White Witch who was plotting to murder Aslan.

Which made Nicole into Lucy or Peter. Or the faun, probably. One of the rabbits? Definitely a helpless side character who was not supposed to be on this quest.

Nicole stayed in place with the other staff, picking over her jar of cool rocks, and making herself a small drink.

That wasn’t the only funny thing about the party here, which was a master class in dragon efficiency versus human creativity. Sweatpants as formal attire versus fancy dresses. This must be how native Chinese readers felt when Westerners got a totally inappropriate tattoo. Something that was supposed to be Totally Cool Dude but instead came out as Quite Chilly Wiener. But never on the level of a whole culture.

Everyone finished their staring and then returned to their proper tiers for a bit more mingling. Business kicked up, and her tip cup overflowed. Beryl resumed his important position near her coffee cart. Despite the busyness, nobody actually spoke to her beyond the order, and certainly no one expressed thanks or pleasantries. She simply worked, and that made her feel friendlier toward the male she knew.

“Another shot?” she asked.

“I don’t have any more silver,” he said in irritation.

“You can identify my pretties.” She held up a small version of the darker tiger’s eye. “What’s this gemstone?”

“That, uneducated human, is tiger iron.”

She regretted her offer. “I don’t think we have this on Earth.”

“You do, and it’s found in similar arrangements to tiger’s eye. However, that disk beneath it is not found on Earth.”

She kept up her end of the bargain between shots.

He sipped the espresso with contentment. “To think we missed this substance during our first survey. We would surely have conquered and enslaved all of you in our Middle Ages.”

“Ha ha, hardy har. Beer, wine, and opium just couldn’t do it for you, huh?”

“Dragons are unaffected by any Earth poisons, and yet we experience a slight buzz with coffee. It is a mystery.”

“Caffeine is actually a plant’s defense mechanism.” She pulled and dispensed and frothed and pulled. “It’s toxic to insects.”

“Dragons are not insects.”

Someone dropped in a red teardrop gemstone that made an unusual ringing ping.

“What’s that?” she asked, pretty sure that nothing made that noise on Earth.

“It’s a rare alloy found only in a dying star,” Beryl replied self-importantly. “It bears the noble moniker of—”

GONG.

Everyone turned en masse to the main stage. The guards unlocked the cordons again between the tiers, and everyone crowded down into the VIP area.

The matriarch, Chrysotile, launched into a breathy speech about the celebration, the power of the family, and how much they’d crushed everyone while elevating themselves.

The staff around Nicole packed everything up, and so she also closed the cart and stowed her gemstones in her messenger bag. It added about twenty pounds.

Oof.

The staff gathered at the edge of the top tier and looked back at her, so she quickly joined them, and then everyone went down to the second tier and closed the third.

Not everybody could fit in the VIP tier. Beryl stood at the top step. Nicole stood behind him.

Alex must be somewhere below.

This was the last event. Soon, the danger would all be over, and she could leave.

* * *

Alex crowded behind Iolite to listen to the speech.

Charoite and Crocoite had yielded the stage. Chrysotile towered above them on the stage.

“Today, we celebrate the Triple Crown. And many unbroken decades of my unwavering rule.”

Her breathy voice cast a chill over his fellow dragons. Many held their breath.

“I rule by right, because I am better, because I deserve it.”

He hadn’t accomplished anything!

“Ironstone is the backbone of the Empire. Without us, they would snap and puddle. In the same way, without me to purify and beautify our illustrious family, our noble name would weaken to the rust-stained ugliness of our foremothers.”

The ship’s hull was always brought out. It was always on display. Its authenticity had been questioned in the past, but it was a cornerstone of the family. How could it not be on display? More importantly, how could it have been destroyed?

Were they compromised?

Did Chrysotile know?

She hadn’t ruled a backstabbing, violent dragon family for a century by being stupid.

“We are the defenders of Draconis. The true blood of the renowned Lost Heroes runs in our veins. More true in my veins than yours, of course.” Her bloodless lips curled. “Years ago, our ancestors discovered the ore-rich Colonies and left their mark. We uncovered them and claimed our rightful ownership.”

And here she was talking about it. Without the hulls.

Panic battled with a need to be done. This mission had failed. But it couldn’t fail. What to do? He would take Nicole to safety and return alone.

“Any who stand in the way of Ironstone greatness…” Chrysotile’s off-white eyes steadied over the crowd. “They will be crushed by me, your fireproof, revered leader.”

She focused on Iolite, narrowed her eyes, and then flicked to Alex.

He held his breath.

Her gaze lingered, then continued on, and he let out his breath slowly.

“And yet, there are always cracks of rust seeping into our noble family. Those cracks must be cleaned out before they weaken us. I do this for our protection.” She placed a palm on her hollow breast. “Me. I am the protector. The matriarch. That makes my actions right, and I have discovered a weak spot.”

Alex’s heart thudded.

There were muffled, uneasy movements behind him. Everyone in the family feared what might be coming.

He couldn’t even twist, or else he’d draw Chrysotile’s eye.

Chrysotile laughed at the unease. “Yes, among us is a traitor! A weak, softheaded enemy who thought I wouldn’t notice. Weakness breeds more weakness. As always, I will crush it out.”

The assembled dragons—the very caverns itself—held their breath.

Chrysotile’s teeth glittered. “The Triple Crown begins a new era of strength and vitality. Ironstone will rule the Empire. We will triumph!”

She lifted both fists to the ceiling.

The dragons roared, “Ironstone! Ironstone! Ironstone!”

Alex roared along with everyone else, worry churning with the first hints of relief. Could those have been idle threats? What was the meaning of all this?

Chrysotile dropped her fists, and the chant ceased. In the echoes, the dragons began to chat quietly amongst themselves, bare whispers, because everyone had survived for another year.

But Chrysotile did not yield the stage.

Her white eyes dropped to Iolite’s young female contact. “Emery. Young servant of our accounts and tithes department. You have a new dragonlet.”

Emery clutched her dragonlet, who was in baby human form, to her chest. “She’s not a year.”

“It is close enough. I don’t want to bother with another ceremony.” Chrysotile extended one long index finger, which extended into too-long razor claws. “Place her here and stand with your husband to have your marriage validated.”

Emery’s face drained of color.

Everyone stepped back, leaving an open path from her location straight to the stage.

She lifted one foot, but couldn’t seem to force herself to put weight onto it.

Chrysotile gestured a second time, more irritated, and Emery stumbled forward. Her husband, a metallic gray Alex barely knew, squared his shoulders for the judgment.

Alex’s mother had made the same walk with all seven of her dragonlets and been denied, thus invalidating her marriage to his father seven times and dooming Alex and his siblings to low caste. But she’d made that walk to the Onyx matriarch, not the Ironstone matriarch. The main branch rarely took notice of the minor branches. Either this was very good for Emery or very, very bad.

Given her secret work for Iolite, there was a real possibility that it would be bad.

Emery placed her chubby baby on the stage in front of Chrysotile and backed a few steps away. Her fists shook at her sides. “My matriarch. This is my female dragonlet, Schorl. Please validate my marriage and welcome my husband, Steel, into the Linarite family.”

Baby Schorl did well with her mind link to Emery, remaining in human baby form and staring guilelessly at the giant white matriarch who held life-and-death control in her long clawed hands.

“Schorl…” Chrysotile’s eyes narrowed on the crowd. “We already have a black gemstone dragonlet. Mica.” Her gaze moved to Iolite’s stock-still male and then returned to the infant. “Does the Ironstone family truly need two black gemstones? I have worked so hard to streamline the colors so that each dragonlet raised by our family is a rare beauty.”

Emery’s nostrils flared. She vibrated with tension.

“Perhaps we have room for two…when you tell me who you’re obeying orders from to be a traitor.” Chrysotile burst into dragon, her form rapidly filling the stage in her horrifying mammoth dragon form, and closed her front foot over the innocent baby.

The baby shifted to a chubby dragonlet and shrieked.

Chrysotile’s claws embedded themselves in the stone around the dragonlet, caging it without crushing it.

“No!” Emery ran forward, shifting to dragon. “My dragonlet!”

“Get back.” Chrysotile smacked Emery with open claws, knocking her aside. “Answer! Who do you work for?’

“No one!” cried Steel. Guards held him back, but he couldn’t stop a female like Chrysotile. No one could. “We are loyal.”

Emery rose in dragon form. Chrysotile had had a century to grow into her mammoth wingspan. Emery was only half her size. She erupted with fire.

Chrysotile swung a wing to shield her face.

A stream of flames would sear any ordinary dragon, ancient female or not.

Emery poured out her fire until it was exhausted. She gasped a deep breath.

The scales hadn’t burned. They glowed pure white.

Chrysotile dropped her wing and returned fire.

Flames engulfed Emery. She dropped and screamed in pain. Unlike Chrysotile, she had no immunity. Chrysotile stopped the flame. Emery dropped to the pavilion floor, writhing in agony. The fire died out. She smoked and moaned.

Chrysotile passed the shrieking dragonlet to her back claw and stepped off the stage. Emery was still alive and could recover with swift treatment—the burn stunned but did no permanent damage. Chrysotile rolled her over to face the stage and passed the dragonlet to her front paw.

“Maaaaa!” the dragonlet screamed, reaching for her mother. “Maaaa!”

“I will ask again.” Chrysotile growled, her gaze searing the crowd for someone to answer. “Who is the traitor you work for?”

Emery coughed smoke.

The pavilion was dead silent.

The males, Genthelvite and Wulfenite and Obsidian, mostly looked away. Charoite looked comatose, Crocoite disgusted, and Titanite interested. Iolite stared resolutely ahead, but he could see that she was clearly calculating the cost to herself of stepping in. If she was outed now, in this public way, she would die a horrible death for nothing.

And yet…

Emery coughed. “Give me…my dragonlet…”

Chrysotile reared back, focused once more on her immediate target. “You are weak. You never asked my permission to bear offspring, and I do not tolerate unnecessary duplicates. Say goodbye.” She dangled the dragonlet over her mother tantalizingly and began to crush it.

Emery struggled helplessly.

Her husband fought the guards. They threw him to the ground.

Alex’s hands shifted to claws.

The silence of everyone else was telling. They’d seen this before, and they knew the consequences of acting out. Anyone who spoke out would become the new target, flamed and crushed under Chrysotile’s claws. Terror and horror immobilized them, himself included. He was a male, and he couldn’t do anything, and yet he had to do something. Someone had to—

Nicole’s horrified voice rang out over the silence of the crowd. “Stop!”

* * *

Nicole’s cry echoed over the pavilion.

Chrysotile looked up.

Beryl jumped at the noise, saw Nicole behind him, and hissed, “Shhh!”

But she couldn’t hush. The protests erupted from her soul. “Stop, stop, stop!”

“Silence, human,” Beryl whispered. “Do you want to be killed?”

The monstrous matriarch, Chrysotile, lowered the keening dragonlet and peered into the crowd, interest gleaming in her off-white eyes. “Who said that?”

Everyone turned and looked at Beryl.

He jerked back and shook his head rapidly, hands up in the surrender gesture. “Not me.”

Nicole’s hands shook. Her heart flip-flopped like a dying fish in her chest, and her mouth was dry while her palms sweated. She was about to be sick. And that wasn’t even counting the feeling of everyone’s eyes on her—including the enthused off-white eyes of an all-powerful insane sociopath.

“You spoke.” Chrysotile let go of the dragonlet, who immediately flew to her mother on the ground.

The guards released the father, and he raced forward and dragged both his injured wife and his dragonlet swiftly away. The one household guard, Ultramarine, helped them to exit the pavilion.

Chrysotile focused hard on Nicole, and confusion interrupted her triumph. “…You?”

“She’s a human,” Beryl said, actually trying to look out for her. “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“Human?” Chrysotile blinked. White-hot anger glowed in her eyes, and her lips curled away from her giant fangs. “How dare you raise your voice in my presence, powerless human?”

“Well, how dare you…do…that?” Nicole couldn’t even repeat what she’d almost just seen. “If a parent committed treason, you punish the parent. You don’t scare their defenseless child. What is wrong with you?”

Chrysotile paused, her anger arrested, as though she were so unused to be spoken back to that she didn’t have an immediate answer. “Who are you?”

Oh.

Right.

Nicole searched the crowd again, fruitlessly, for Alex.

Sorry she ruined the mission, sorry she’d drawn attention to herself, not sorry she couldn’t stand by and watch child abuse. Yeah, she could never work for the FBI or any undercover agency where she had to let one injustice pass by to stop a greater one. She couldn’t do it. It wasn’t in her wheelhouse, and she never should have come here, because she was ruining everything.

“I’m Nicole,” she replied.

“You’re not family. Are you a servant?” Her gaze narrowed on Beryl. “Who brought you here?”

The rest of the crowd looked at Beryl, who’d been casually bragging about their relationship all night. He was edging farther back into the crowd and froze once he realized the crowd was edging away from him, leaving him in the center stuck with Nicole. “Huh? Oh, I don’t know her. I’ve never seen her before in my life!”

One of the dragons he’d bragged to spoke up. “She’s the sister-in-law of his ex-fiancée.”

“We were never actually engaged,” he said, shaking his head violently to deny any connection to Amber. “Never. I don’t know what they’re talking about.”

Chrysotile’s white eyes narrowed. She had his number. “So you came with House Carnelian? The so-called turncoat house that had the audacity to threaten to leave the family because of me.” Her sharp smile turned deadly.

“No, actually.” Nicole’s hands shook so hard, she clasped them in front of her chest. “I didn’t.”

Chrysotile’s certainty hitched. “You…didn’t.”

“No, and I’m sorry to interrupt your big birthday party, but I honestly thought you were going to hurt that baby, and no one else was saying anything. They were all just standing there.”

Nicole addressed the sea of human-shaped dragon eyes all focused on her with magnifying-lens-under-the-sun silence. “Like, what was wrong with all of you? Were you just going to let her do that? La-di-dah, murder a few kids in public, just another birthday party where we stand around watching and do nothing?”

A disagreeable mutter followed her question.

Well, apparently, she was going big, if not going home.

Chrysotile abruptly shrank back to human. She landed on the stage, and two dressers raced out and draped her in a long white kimono-style bathrobe and cinched it around her middle, covering everything that should be covered.

She tilted her head the whole time and finally said, “Do you mean to tell me you are a human who has the incredible audacity to crash, uninvited, into my human-themed party?”

“Honestly? I don’t want me to be here any more than you do.”

Chrysotile seemed even more confused, but in an amused way, as if she’d missed a joke and it was going to catch up to her at any moment. “Shall I have you executed and put both of us out of your misery?”

Nicole’s chest went cold. She didn’t have a snappy answer. And the dragon matriarch clearly had no compunction about calling for death.

Alex stepped forward into the empty, fire-charred courtyard. “She’s with me.”

Nicole’s heart flip-flopped again.

He risked his mission for her. More than his mission, he risked their lives.

Chrysotile raised a brow, and she seemed genuinely intrigued. “The foundling.”

Even from here, Nicole could see he was mildly irritated.

“You know he has a mom, right?” she asked.

The matriarch ignored her.

Crocoite huffed from the other side of the pavilion. “Charoite, how dare you let your fostered creature bring a human to dirty our aristocratic celebration? The sooner we wipe the genetically backward nonshifters from the universe, the better.”

Her husband chimed in, “Their backward genetics could be catching.”

“Exactly!”

Alex ignored them. “I did it for you, Chrysotile.”

Her deadly gaze refocused on him. “Oh?”

He channeled an icy arrogance to match the other aristocrats. “I was going to show you later, but…” He flew up to the coffee cart, collected the one bag, and showed it off. “I’ve brought you the last bag of Dragon Coffee.”

“Dragon Coffee,” she repeated, unimpressed.

“Shortly after its discovery, the Gentleman’s Society confiscated the lot and consumed it. The roasting location was destroyed in a fire, and the roaster fled. This is the last bag.”

Her brows lifted. Idle interest. “Really?”

“No one can duplicate it. The conditions are irreplicable. This is the last in the entire universe for all time.”

“That is unique,” she conceded.

“In order to have the most authentic, one-of-a-kind experience, I planned it to be prepared for you by an expert human barista.”

Her lips twisted as if she knew she was being played by Alex, yet, since his performance was so good, she didn’t mind. She stepped back from the edge of the stage. “You’re such an interesting not-child, Alexandrite. Your mind is as rare as your coloration. And to think, my other heirs only gifted me large rocks.”

Alex looked down to Nicole. His expression told her they’d passed the first hurdle, but this was far from over.

Titanite rose. “Indeed, how dare anyone bring a dirty human? I will destroy her for you for speaking.” Titanite flexed her hands to claws, and her eager bloodthirsty gaze centered on Alex, totally ignoring Nicole.

Iolite rocketed upward and intercepted her. With a quiet, measured voice, she asked, “How dare you deny our matriarch her special gift?”

Titanite flew around her, circling a new target. “Don’t poke your weak snout at me, Iolite. You spend so long staring at dusty screens, you don’t know what a real female looks like. I’m stronger and lighter than I look. I’ll pound you. And then I’ll destroy your precious Alex and his barista.”

Chrysotile spoke, arresting them. “I will experience this so-called human espresso. Come with me.” She strolled to the back of the stage.

Alex collected Nicole, and she clung to him. He pressed his jaw against her forehead, a brief and secret gesture of comfort.

A dragon-sized door opened up in the back wall of the stage, unfolding outward like an accordion. A triple arch appeared, but this time, only white chunks of chrysotile crowned all three arches.

“You four.” Chrysotile’s voice floated over the stage and the murmuring crowd. “And Beryl.”

“Me!” A ruckus followed him being driven by bo-wielding guards through the crowd and onto the stage. “But I don’t know anything. I mean, anyone. You’ve got to believe me. Nicole, tell them!”

They followed closest to Chrysotile, Alex light on his feet to avoid her trailing white bathrobe. Nicole looked over Alex’s shoulder.

Iolite was locked in a mental battle with Titanite, who tried to goad her into flinching. Beryl looked properly horrified as he was herded by staff pushing the espresso cart through the triple archway into what was obviously Chrysotile’s private sanctum.

Ultramarine closed the doors of the chamber. Just before they shut, her gaze fixed on Nicole. What was the expression there? Surprise that someone so small and unfit for fighting had managed to insert herself into a war between dragons? Whatever it was, it could be the last thing Nicole might ever see.

Alex felt the doors close on him, swallowing them into the inner chambers.

They were closer than ever to the archives, if the hull still existed.

And under the watch of the deadliest psychopathic dragon and her entourage, with her interest piqued by Nicole.

They walked toward a doorway embedded with an ancient animal skull; the mouth was opened so they had to walk through the crystal teeth.

Nicole flinched away from the massive jaw. “What is that?”

“Was.” Chrysotile turned slightly to answer, whipping her robe over the teeth. “The last Terror Mouth of Igem. What beautiful teeth, hm? We used to have a second skeleton, but I destroyed it.”

Nicole looked up at him with a nervous is she for real question in her dark eyes. They continued through a stone monolith and past a holograph of Draconis spinning with all its moons, red and authoritative, and then through another cavern, this one decorated with giant iridescent insect wings.

“One of each color,” Nicole noted.

“The only known specimens of Yugus Firefly,” Chrysotile informed her. “They lived in this very cavern until they were hunted to extinction.”

They reached a smaller cavern with a low, narrow corridor and approached a closed door. The door was made of smoky quartz. Outside it, the head of a carcass similar to an anaconda with a centipede’s pincers and trailing whiskers was visible above a screen.

Alex kept Nicole tight to his side.

Chrysotile waited beside the door. The staff left the coffee cart, squeezed around Beryl and between Titanite and Iolite, and held open the doors.

“Let me guess.” Nicole jerked her chin at the partially obscured snake creature. “The last expired critter of a planet I’ve never heard of?”

Chrysotile’s mouth flattened in irritation. “There is one other specimen still living in Draconis laboratories.”

“How annoying,” Nicole said, sympathizing with an edge to her voice.

“It is an Interstellar Void Eater, theorized to move backward and forward through time. If so, there is a possibility that this is the same creature, and I possess it. I can’t be sure.”

“You could destroy them both to be sure.”

“The thought has occurred to me.” Chrysotile swept through the open doors.

The room was unusually human-sized. Opaque screens hid the back walls. Chrysotile took the crowning seat behind a long, low coffee table made of solid onyx. She indicated for Iolite and Titanite to sit before her, and arranged Alex beside Iolite and Beryl beside Titanite.

“Is that the last coffee table of its type?” Nicole asked.

“It is.” She glanced at Alex. “Your mother has larger raw stones, but has promised never to have them cut.”

“And those screens are the only ones like them in the universe?”

“They are not.” A deadly smile showed her teeth. “What’s behind them is one of a kind.”

The staff set up the coffee cart, bowed, and left. The doors closed behind them, sealing the small alcove in like a too-tight egg.

Titanite vibrated with rage.

Chrysotile had an unusual patience and willingness to speak. It set Alex’s teeth on edge. Nicole brought out the talkativeness in everyone. It was a gift, and now it felt like a curse. As if Chrysotile was setting them up, talking to her like an equal or a friend, for the sole purpose of killing them all. And he didn’t know how to get Nicole out of here. Every nerve screamed for an exit, now, fast, before his cousin blew up or his matriarch did.

“One espresso,” Chrysotile ordered.

Nicole went to the coffee cart. “One espresso for everybody?”

“Everybody?” Chrysotile’s tone lifted in confusion. “Of course not. The espresso is just for me.”

“Okay. I could make the others drinks using different beans.”

“Why?”

Nicole muttered to herself under the noise of the machine, but based on her movements, he could guess. She placed the espresso shot in its cup in front of Chrysotile and stepped back, looking for a place to sit.

Alex tilted his head toward the coffee cart.

She retreated to it, and his nerves eased slightly. Farther away from Chrysotile without causing negative attention, and also closer to an exit was the safest place for her.

Chrysotile consumed the espresso in one gulp, licked her thin white lips, and considered the inside of the cup. “Another.”

Nicole made it and brought the second shot.

Chrysotile drank that as well and ordered a third.

Nicole made it. The whirr and whoosh of the cart was the only noise in the alcove, which seemed to get smaller with every passing second. Chrysotile’s irises gleamed white, rimmed by gray to separate them from the rest of her eyes. Alex had never spent much time around her before.

Nicole set the cup in front of her. “I can pull shots until the bag runs out, but honestly, you might want to ease off. It’s not healthy. You’ll get the shakes.”

Chrysotile gulped the espresso and folded her unnaturally long fingers around the cup. “Another.”

Nicole shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She returned to the cart.

Chrysotile’s white brows lifted as though she had a realization. “You remind me of my mother.”

Nicole raised her voice over the noise of the boiling water. “Because I told you to slow down?”

“Yes. And she would often use that phrase. The one you repeated in the pavilion.”

“Stop?”

“Ha ha, yes. And also, What is wrong with you? All the time, ha ha, mostly when I was experimenting on your mother.”

Her gaze flicked to Iolite and away.

“It was her fault for being small and helpless. And what family needs more than one heir, anyway? Look at the mess weakening the Empire now. Thirty heirs! Empress Horribus should have weeded them down to one. They weed themselves now, and the distraction weakens her legacy. Mother made me promise not to ever kill my sisters, and I am a dragon of my word. Of course, when she could no longer stand up to me, I murdered her and assumed the throne.”

Nicole set down the cup and retreated. Her mouth opened and closed. “Huh.”

“Thus is the way of dragons. Here I am, surrounded by my supposed successors. Iolite. Titanite.” Her gaze flicked to him like an accusation. “Perhaps married to Alexandrite. Or…” Her deadly gaze swung the other direction to Beryl.

He jolted out of his silent terror. “I’m not! I’m not marrying anyone. I mean you nothing but the greatest of health and long life, which I wish also for myself.”

She ignored Beryl’s outburst. “Any one of you will try, one day, to murder me. Maybe even today. Maybe it was one of you who broke into the archives and stole the original map of the Colonies?” Her gaze focused on Alex, Iolite, Titanite, and the rapidly-shaking-his-head Beryl. “Or did you? Mmm.”

Titanite rested both palms on the coffee table and extended long green talons like glass spears. “Please let me marry Alexandrite.”

“Patience, Titanite.”

“No, now!”

“I prefer such a rare skin to remain in one piece.”

Her eyes glittered. “I’ll make you a handbag.”

Chrysotile tapped her full cup on the table, making a crystal ringing noise. “Do not stop making shots until I order you, human.”

Nicole went to the coffeemaker and ran the grinder. The noise filled the small room. They were going to be stuck here forever.

Titanite lost it.

She flipped the table, rolling the solid onyx toward Alex’s lap. “Give me Alexandrite!”

Alex jetted backward, flying free.

Beryl flew the other direction to the doors and yanked. They clicked but didn’t open. He pushed and pulled, hauling on them in a blind panic to get out.

Nicole dropped the coffee basket and stood poised to run out the door if Beryl could get it open.

Alex stayed within Titanite’s view to keep the focus on him and give them a chance to escape.

Chrysotile sipped her last espresso, savoring it for the first time instead of gulping, while she watched the rising fight with glittering eyes.

Iolite stood in Titanite’s path. “Sit down. You’re interrupting a pleasant exchange.”

“You sit down! Alexandrite’s interrupting it for existing!” Titanite slashed her claws in a warning. “Everyone knows you can’t fight. You’ve never trained. You’re too obsessed with old records. You probably broke into the archives just to read the meaningless opinions of dead dragons!”

Iolite’s claws flicked out, and she moved more fully in front of Alex, cautious, in contained self-defense. “You have much more ability to get into the archives than I. Maybe you found something to bring down Chrysotile.”

“Why should I bother? Everyone knows Ironstone will be mine in a few decades.”

Iolite raised one brow, a quiet smile on her still-human face. “Patience isn’t one of your virtues.”

Titanite roared. Her chest burst through her bathrobe, and she dwarfed the space with her big body.

Beryl stopped yanking on the door and flew around the outside of the room until he reached the screens, which he ducked behind. Nicole jogged after him, and Alex caught her up and slipped behind the screens.

The room was dark, and a single large sarcophagus with a dragon snout on the front rested on an elevated ledge surrounded by fluorite cubes.

Beryl was up in the ceiling. He tore a vent open and squirmed into the air exchanger. A moment later, he grunted, and the exchanger shut off.

Alex hugged Nicole to his chest and flew into the darkness after the darker shadow of the panicked male.

The temperature rose swiftly without the environmental controls. Alex squeezed between the exchanger and the uneven rock. This was old, made before the dragons had taken up the philosophy of airtight fittings, when they’d been more lax. Light from a grating spilled across the tunnel, and Beryl struggled to rip the metal. Alex released Nicole and helped him, two males wordlessly working together to escape a female fight. The grating twisted and yielded. They threw it aside. Beryl floated out cautiously, his head aswivel for the next danger. Alex collected Nicole.

Nicole patted his forearm in a soothing gesture. “I’m here. I’m human. It’s okay.”

He’d been squeezing her midsection, feeling her shoulders and waist, and with her pat, the awareness of his need to hold her, to kiss and consume her, pounded into his hot cock. He squeezed her again, reassuring himself that she was in one piece, alive.

“I’m okay,” she promised him, trying to emotionally reassure him. “We’re—”

He covered her mouth with his kiss.

She trembled and yielded to his possession.

Into her willing, sweet, hot mouth, he thrust his fears, his terror, his desperation. She gave back soft comfort, soothing acceptance, the strength to absorb all his needs and the power to fire him with desire for more.

He wanted her. No, needed her. Needed his cock buried deep in her channel, needed her gasping and shaking with desire, needed her promise to stay with him, always.

That shook him, and he broke their kiss.

She rested her head against his shoulder. Desire glazed her eyes. “We…we’re fine…”

He wiped the moisture from her bruised lips, teased her hair back into place, and snuggled her.

Then, because they were still trapped in the bowels of the matriarch’s palace with a murderous cousin, he floated out after Beryl.

They entered a cavern of wonders.

Statues of dragons, piles of gemstones, and monoliths of the ages filled the massive space. He floated over the treasures. The dust in the air was thick and hot.

Beads of sweat covered Nicole’s face. She wiped a hand across her forehead. “What is this place?”

“The main Ironstone archives.” Alex hovered before a cluster of giant gray ship hulls. “And here is what we need.”

“Huh. When you said they’d be on display, I imagined it would be in a more traveled public place.”

“Plans changed.” He flew around the monolith. Heat had embedded it into rock. “Are you recording?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.”

“Good.”

She pointed her chest at the hull. “What are we looking for?”

“The contested hull had a map on the interior. Ironstone alleged it was a map of Colony mines created by our ancestors. Zeolite alleges that they put a map of the route back to their estate on the interior of all their ships.”

“So we find the ship with the map, and that will tell us whose it is.”

Alex circumnavigated the next hull. It was hollowed out and stained with rust. “It won’t tell us. Historical map practices are indecipherable to all but Scholars. We have to bring the map to Flint.”

He circled all the hulls. They were banged-up, dented fragments, and none had any working components, so his detonation plan would never have worked.

They also did not hold any maps.

He rose to the ceiling and searched the far reaches of the cavern.

Adrenaline pounded in his veins.

At any moment, their time would be cut short. Titanite would break in on them or house guards would.

Where was it?

Could the rumors be true? Was it destroyed?

If it was destroyed, what would he do next?

A silver glint caught his eye. He looked down.

One of the hulls must have fallen over. It stretched horizontally like an Earth blue whale rather than jutting upright. Other treasures were piled atop it.

He dropped down by one end. Weight wasn’t a problem, but he didn’t want to unbalance and dump the things atop off. The less Chrysotile realized what he was after, the better. “Can you squeeze underneath?”

She wiggled under. “Do you have a light?”

Beryl landed beside him. His face was streaked with grime. His fists clenched with panic. “This is the treasury?”

“Archives.”

“In a big house, that’s the same thing. We’re going to die!”

“We’re not going to die. Do you have a light?”

“There’s no way out!”

“I broke in once as a dragonlet by accident. There’s at least one more way out, because I didn’t come in from the room we just arrived from.”

Beryl’s yellow-green eyes flashed.

“Light,” Alex repeated.

“Here.” Beryl tossed his cell phone at Alex. “Give it back when you’re done.” He jetted for the ceiling and made disorganized sweeps across the room.

Of course Beryl sported a human-form cell phone for fashion if not communication. That meant Alex had one too, but he’d forgotten in his stress.

Alex took a deep breath. No more mistakes. He activated Beryl’s flashlight and handed it under to Nicole.

Her voice came from beneath the ship. “In case I haven’t mentioned it in the last five minutes, everyone in your family is crazy, and you all need therapy.”

“You have.” He drifted up and watched Beryl’s search for an exit.

The archives had a main door, of course, which was locked. As a dragonlet, had someone left it open and he’d scampered in? Then, as now, he’d been evading dragons trying to damage his shimmery scales.

“Chrysotile especially.” Nicole’s voice echoed up to him. “Are all the matriarchs this crazy?”

“Of the five families? I haven’t paid much attention.”

“Huh.”

Only around Nicole did he realize how narrow his focus was. He didn’t have Flint’s long-range vision, sure, but he’d manipulated his share of high-class dragons. He got to know any one dragon only enough to know how to use them—where they were weak and vulnerable to manipulation—and no further.

“Um, Alex? I can’t find any map.”

“What do you mean?” He tried to peer around the back side.

She crawled out the opposite end. “Maybe, if it’s small, or hiding in a recess—”

“It’s supposed to fill the entire wall.” A dark unsettled anger swirled in his belly. “It has to be here.”

“Maybe there’s another hull.”

“There are no more. This is the correct number.”

“So, what does that mean?” She stepped out to his side. “One of these is a fake?”

That was another possibility, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that he couldn’t use any of these hulls to destroy Ironstone. Rage bubbled hotter and uglier. His fingers flexed to claws. He wanted to tear the whole ship apart.

Nicole’s curiosity changed to fear. She rested a cautionary hand on his forearm. “Alex.”

He gripped the hull. “I refuse—”

Titanite’s howl jerked him back to the present. “Alexandrite! Where are you, my love?”

Alex flattened to hug the hull. Nicole sheltered under the same chunk of metal. He couldn’t squish deeply into the shadows; he could still see far too much of the outside, which meant he was visible too.

Titanite clawed the tunnel. Rocks clattered to the ground and bounced off the treasures with terrible shattering noises. She emerged from the too-small hole like an oversized worm—with claws, teeth, and wings—and glided over the archives like a deadly spaceship. “Alexandrite. Your devoted sister has abandoned you, but your cousin never will. I’m coming for you.”

Beryl bolted across the room behind her and tore free another grating. He slipped into a different ceiling tunnel.

Titanite banked and focused on the new tunnel. “Oh? Hiding there?” Smoke curled out of her nostrils, and her voice roughened while her throat glowed orange. “Where it is so easy to burn you out?”

While she focused on the tunnel, scratching and smoking, the main door to the archives swung open.

Iolite stood in the doorway. She gazed up at Titanite and shifted out claws to attack.

Alex pulled Nicole from beneath the hull and flagged Iolite. They all slipped out the main door. Iolite shut it behind them and locked it.

“Is Beryl okay?” Nicole panted while they raced through the caverns.

“That tunnel leads back to Chrysotile’s room,” Iolite told her. “Chrysotile grew tired of our posturing, dismissed us, and left. He can safely exit now.”

“What did she hope to get from us?” Alex asked Iolite. “An heir fight?”

“I’m not sure. For all that Titanite says she can win over me, she seems reluctant to actually swing a claw. And I have no desire to be the sole heir.”

They wound through the caverns from the private areas and finally burst out the matriarch’s balcony into the public courtyard. Their family transport was long gone.

All of Alex’s nerves wound tight.

Iolite summoned their transport back. It arrived and carried them away without incident.

Nicole flopped in a heap on the floor and rested her head against the glass. “Thank goodness we escaped.”

No one else spoke.

Alex’s nerves would not calm.

Because they had not escaped.

He would have to come back.

The way forward was here. Somewhere. He would have to remain longer at his foster family’s estate, develop a new strategy, and return. Iolite was silent with undoubtedly the same thoughts plus new worries.

All the ship hulls were in the archives, but the map wasn’t. So either the hull had been separated from the map, the map had been erased from one of the hulls, or another hull had been discovered—or created—and switched out with the incriminating map.

If the map still existed and wasn’t in the archives, where would it be?

Emery was no longer an asset. Chrysotile had let her go. But she could not perform secret work.

If the map no longer existed, what evidence could they use to prove Ironstone’s treachery?

Their transport arrived in his foster family’s courtyard before answers arrived in his brain. Nicole hauled herself tiredly to her feet. The top folded up, and the gangplank extended.

Silverin stood at the bottom. “Titanite’s brother, Obsidian, is with your parents. He is delivering Titanite’s heir challenge.”

Iolite flattened her lips in irritation. “She couldn’t deliver it herself an hour ago?”

Silverin opened his hands. He clearly had no idea.

Iolite sighed heavily. “This is Crocoite’s doing. She has been pushing for an heir challenge for years.”

“Now you have it. We will suffer until you fight.”

Iolite examined her fists. “I’m not ready.”

A flash of concern moved across Silverin’s normally stoic face. Then it was gone. “Obsidian’s transport has blocked our launch pad. Interior travel is still possible. Take this transport to my family’s compound. I will alert them that Alexandrite is leaving with his human in my private ship.”

“Protect Mica,” she ordered, and they all got right back on the transport.

There was nowhere in the Empire, Iolite could evade an heir challenge. All they could do was delay.

“What happens now?” Nicole asked in the transport. “If Titanite’s parents are the ones who want a fight, does that mean Titanite doesn’t want it?”

“She does,” Iolite said.

“But she just had her chance, and she didn’t take it. So why?”

Iolite glanced at Alex, then closed her mouth.

Alex answered. “Because she was too focused on getting to me. That’s the only reason she’d fight Iolite. If Iolite fights and loses, then Titanite will marry me. If Iolite refuses to fight, then same. If she attacks me in a back room, then she skips the middle-dragon.”

“Yikes.” Nicole linked hands with him. “Well, that sucks. So the only choice, then, is for Iolite to fight and win.”

Iolite looked away.

“Right.” Alex hugged Nicole. “Or for us to bring down all of Ironstone, including Titanite.”

They escaped on another dragon spaceship, which the dragons said was smaller, but really just seemed more spartan.

Alex flew Nicole to what he said was the smallest room and deposited her on the silver bench. She tugged at her sticky, dusty, gritty clothes. “I could really use a shower and a change.”

He flew her to a different area to a wash station, and after she streamed the dirt off, he got her some formal wear—a silver bathrobe and black tracksuit. The fuzzy slippers were large but hey at least they were clean.

She missed her fancy closet.

Nicole finished off a serving of the oatmeal protein stuff, composed a video summarizing the last few hours, and sent it off using the method he’d shown her. Then she trekked across the spaceship to Iolite’s room.

Luckily for her, this ship was oriented more horizontally. Unluckily, it was still huge, and going from her room to Iolite’s was like walking from one end of a mall to the other. No shops to distract her along the way. It was just long, smooth, functional corridors.

She entered the corridor to Iolite’s vast gymnasium-sized room.

“…but if you won’t fight, then we don’t have a lot of places to go,” Alex was saying. “We have to ask for other opinions.”

Iolite had shed her human clothing and grown to a sizeable purple dragon. She lounged on an extra-big silver bench. It was at a good height to cup her big belly and let her limbs hang free.

She curled up and rested her head on the bench. “Very well. My position is likely exposed anyway. Call your brother.”

Alex clicked the view screen.

His gray brother, Flint, smiled broadly with expectation. “Well?”

“The hull wasn’t there,” Alex reported. “We examined all the hulls in the archives, which matched the number Ironstone claims ownership for. There was no map.”

His certainty flickered. “No map?”

“Nothing. The back sides of most were blank or rusted.” He waved Nicole forward and then put her recorder in the transmitter, apparently transmitting her recordings to Flint. He gave her the recorder back.

Flint examined the images. “Rusted fits my expectation for a hull that was once constructed by Ironstone. The rusted hull alone is an Ironstone original. The others were stolen.”

“But from which families? Can we know?”

Flint stayed silent.

Alex clenched his fists. “No. So there is no way to incite the anger of the other families or begin a war.”

“I will have the recordings analyzed.” Flint set it aside and focused on Alex again. “Were you able to procure any historical data about their discoveries?”

“No.”

“Anything about their past or current dealings that could incriminate them like Adamantine was incriminated for selling weapons to both sides?”

“Nothing.”

“No data whatsoever? Anything, no matter how small, might be the key.”

“We got nothing, Flint.”

“You will have to go back.”

“Unfortunately, that’s an impossibility. Titanite has issued an heir challenge. Until Iolite is ready to resolve it, we can’t return.”

“That is too bad. If you knew the location of even one crash site, you could examine it for clues as to the original owning family.”

“I know the location of one crash site,” Iolite said, speaking for the first time.

Alex frowned at her. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Because it is the crash site where the rusted hull was found.”

“Which means it’s the only location we’re certain belonged to Ironstone.” Alex gritted his teeth. “How did you know that?”

Iolite hesitated. “I recovered a historical map. It shows no details. Only planetary coordinates.”

Nicole sat around like a fly on the wall while the titans debated what to do. She had nothing to contribute. Alex was frustrated, obviously, and Iolite was a little too calm. Flint requested the historical map, and after a moment’s hesitation, Iolite shared it with him.

“You’re in luck,” Flint said. “I am not the highest-rated Colony Wars authority, but I do know that this particular planet was once a major trade outpost. The adviser who gave the mining rights to Ironstone made this outpost her local office. The other hulls would have passed inspection here.”

“So if one got switched for another, the evidence could be buried nearby,” Iolite mused.

“Also of note is its abandoned state. An accident closed the mines permanently. You will be able to inspect without worrying about running into anyone, even your own family.”

Iolite pursed her dragon lips. “Are you certain?”

“Scholars had a contact stationed at this mine. We were investigating a different historical mystery. He confirmed that Ironstone was pulling out when we lost contact.”

They reviewed the maps together, and Iolite identified where the site was within a hundred miles. “The Shard Mountains are unstable. The whole ground could have collapsed, leaving nothing behind.”

“But if there are no clues…if there is no more crash site…” Alex looked at Nicole as though she had some answers.

Flint spoke. “Then you will lose out on an easy chance to embarrass Ironstone and start an interfamily conflict. You can always sabotage them from within. There are many ways to twist a knife.”

“But then they never have to face consequences for what they did.”

“Consider, Alex, that greed and dishonesty is not isolated within Ironstone. Many families acted reprehensibly in the Colonies. Many are acting that way still in the contested zone.”

Alex clearly didn’t like that.

“Hey.” Nicole raised a hand. “Should we maybe forget about twisting and focus directly on the stabbing part?”

Flint’s lips curved, and he raised a brow.

“This is our only chance to humiliate them?” Alex tapped the crash site. “What current information do we have?”

“None,” Flint said. “The Empire ignores abandoned planets. It’s a gamble.”

Alex gripped the screen. His frustration seethed. “They can’t get away with it! I won’t let them. They betrayed…destroyed…no!” He released the console and stalked the length of the bench.

Flint looked at Iolite. “Your cousin Obsidian was seen exiting the planetary system shortly after your husband’s ship. You do not have long to stay on the planet, or he’ll catch up to you and force an answer.”

“We will not linger.” Iolite closed the connection and lifted onto her dragon elbows. “Alexandrite, this anger is beneath you.”

He growled, his human teeth flaring to incisors. “You have suffered as much as I have.”

“And only a cold, sober response will defeat our enemies.”

He stalked back. “Fine. You found this map, which you did not share with me until absolutely necessary. Do you have current pictures, or records of the original crash site?”

“I found none in the archives.”

That brought him up short. “You searched?”

“Yes. Your brother is not the only one with foresight.” Iolite’s irritated smile faded. “My search may have triggered Chrysotile’s outburst. Emery procured old shipping routes. That slight overstep should not have incited her anger.”

“Or she knew of your friendship and was trying to goad you into a fight,” Alex argued. “She does no more than suspect your involvement, or you’d already be dead.”

“I did have another dragon access the archives. Just not for any of this.”

“So she suspects someone.”

Nicole raised her hand again. “Is Emery okay? And her baby?”

“Yes, her family escaped. I made sure of it. Of course, she still had duties, so she must remain within the Palace grounds.” Iolite stretched. Her spine crackled, and she sighed again. “Speaking out was incredibly risky, but defending Emery openly would have exposed me to Chrysotile’s fury. Even now, I don’t know how I would respond to a repeat, and that question is…” She flexed her claws and spoke through gritted teeth. “Unsettling.”

Nicole felt unsettled. Iolite wasn’t a swagger-filled dragon like Titanite, but she wasn’t a shrinking violet either. “Glad I was helpful.”

Iolite released her claws with a sigh much sooner than the still-infuriated Alex. “But because of this, she knows. Chrysotile knows. All my planning…”

“But how much does she know?” Alex demanded. “No, she only suspects. And she’s suspicious of everyone.”

Nicole piped up. “How much is there to know?”

Iolite exchanged glances with Alex.

He looked at Iolite, palms open, like he didn’t know.

Iolite flexed her claws and studied them as she spoke. “I do intend to take over Ironstone, small human, but it is not so simple. Yes, I could very likely defeat Titanite, and her family. My parents will melt like gypsum in the rain. Chrysotile is impossible to fight until I can overcome her fireproofing.”

Alex left at that moment, flying out of the room as though he’d remembered something and would be right back.

Iolite continued her explanation.

“But then the real test is uniting the other families of Ironstone. Many are bound with loyalty because of Chrysotile’s immunity. Not only must I bind the families, most of which see me as an ineffectual researcher unlike Titanite, but I must also assert Ironstone’s dominance against the other four families, or we will lose our holdings and be subsumed. Adamantine in particular, but Zeolite too, has long schemed for our mines, and we have a historic fight over ‘their’ minor branch families that we absorbed.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Ideally? To separate out my enemies, weaken them, and destroy them one at a time.” Iolite gestured at the map. “Starting with Crocoite and Wulfenite. They head the expansion to Earth. Eventually, they will anger the wrong minor branch, and I will betray them. The problem is collateral damage. My enemies are as likely to injure my allies, which means the betrayal must not be traced back to me, or I will create an even more arduous war.”

“Wow.” Nicole sucked in a deep breath and let it out. “That sounds like a nightmare, to be honest. You’ve got some chess moves right there. I was more of a checkers player, and not a very good one, so I’m glad you’re the mastermind, and I’m going to retreat now before I accidentally overhear something that means you have to kill me.”

“I would not kill one of Alex’s,” she replied. “There is no benefit, and anyway, the rage he feels at Chrysotile is a fraction of my own.”

“Oh, yeah? You must really hate Chrysotile.”

Iolite’s voice dropped. “When I was ten, I had a baby sister. A similar incident marked her first-year ceremony. But no one spoke out.” She made her claws into fists. “My sister did not survive.”

Nicole’s heart ached. “I’m sorry.”

Iolite released her fist, and her tone lightened. “I will destroy Chrysotile even if I must flee Titanite’s challenge and destroy her from exile.”

“Where’s exile?”

She smiled slightly as if Nicole had made a joke. “Thank you for speaking up for Schorl.”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Your relationship with Alexandrite is strange,” Iolite continued, and her gaze finally lifted to Nicole again and focused. “He’s close to you. Open.”

Her chest warmed. “You think so?”

“Yes, he’s never shown such emotion in front of us. In front of me.” Her voice held an edge of disapproval.

“I’m more like a therapist than like a girlfriend, though,” Nicole assured her.

Except for that last kiss…

“Oh? What is this word, therapist?”

“Yeah, dragons don’t seem to have them. It’s when you tell your problems to someone with experience, and they help guide you to a better understanding of yourself to achieve greater wellness.”

Iolite’s chin dropped. “Alexandrite tells you his problems? What problems?”

“Not problems, exactly, but it’s all private so… But I’m not a real therapist. I just listen.”

“Hmm.” Iolite seemed like she was going to press.

Alex flew in the doorway and landed in front of Nicole, bare-chested. He’d taken off his shirt and replaced his pants with a fresh pair of tracksuit bottoms. “I’ve found some blankets and some human food. Are you ready for a rest?”

“Yes, oh, thank you.”

He snugged her into his broad arms, and they flew out. Her last view of Iolite was the dragon’s purple eyes changing to opaque silver as she watched. It made Nicole a little wary, like she was trespassing.

The only thing worse than being ignored by dragons was being singled out by them.

He dropped Nicole into their room. He’d created a blanket nest on the silver bench and snuggled her into it, and then brought her the human food. “Ovaltine and Weetabix.”

She studied the package art for instructions on how to eat it. “What is it?”

“You don’t know? Here’s another one: Digestive. This one’s called Marmite.”

“Vegemite is Australian.” She read the packages. “But all the instructions are in American English. Not a single u in there. Huh.”

“Did you want to eat it?”

“Maybe for breakfast.” She pushed the packages aside and stretched out in the blankets. They were velour and cotton, so comfy and fluffy. She peeled off the robe and yawned. “If I’ve learned one thing from the trip so far, it’s to sleep when I get the chance.”

Alex landed next to her in the blankets. “Good advice.”

Her heart jumped. A delicious pounding woke in her belly, and throbbing memories of the last time they’d both been on a silver bench together assaulted her mind. She flushed awake, and her breasts swelled.

“Good night,” he said.

She swallowed on a dry throat. “Y-yeah. Good night.”

His eyes gleamed with teal-and-lavender intensity. “You okay?”

“Yeah, of course I am.” She rolled over to face away from him. “Why do you ask?”

“Because.” His hot, hard torso pressed against her back, and his rigid cock fit against her derriere. “Your scent is filled with arousal.”

She heated to a thousand degrees. Her pussy squeezed, and her center clenched. “Yeah, I’m sure you get that a lot.”

He didn’t answer, which cemented her impression.

Then one hand clamped on her waist, and his lips teased her sensitive earlobe. “You’re the only one I care about.”

Nicole pulled in a deep, shuddering breath.

He watched the tremors over her fuzzy blanket-covered breasts, the dip between the zipper, and the tremble in her waist. Spots of color stood out against her pale cheeks. She closed her eyes.

Alex nuzzled her ear again, then teased the soft flesh between his teeth.

She moaned and arched, subtly pressing her full buttocks against his iron-hard cock.

He reached around, forearm between her breasts, and cupped her jaw. Her lashes flew open. He tilted her chin so he could meet her eyes. “I need you.”

She let out a long, shuddering sigh, and the scent of her arousal flooded the nest of blankets. “You don’t love me.”

“I don’t love anyone.” He kissed her, biting her lips, drawing out her wicked tongue. “I don’t crave anyone.” He kissed her more deeply, thrusting his tongue deep into her sweet, dark mouth, drawing the sweetness into him as if he could possess her soul. “I don’t need. Anyone.”

She gasped for breath, clutching his wrist as though barely hanging on to her senses. “But you need me.”

“I need.”

He rolled her onto her back and zipped down her tracksuit, spilling her breasts into his eager hands. Alex kneed between her thighs and supped on first one bright nipple, then the other. She arched into his touch, chased his kiss, moaned into his caress. Her thighs squeezed his knee, and she rubbed her clit against his bulging quadriceps.

He kissed down her trembling body and tore her bottoms off, the hems separating unevenly. Her pink slit glistened. He tasted, delved, kissed her.

Her fingers gripped his hair, tore at his head. “Alex!”

He dropped his own trousers and pulled out his cock, encircling the hard member, and then he wrapped her fingers around it. She closed over him. He thrust into her hand, letting her play and tease and explore. She licked her fingers and wrapped them around his cock, wet.

Then he positioned his cockhead at her wet entrance.

Her dark eyes lifted to his, and doubt washed across her face. “This is my first time. I don’t know if I’ll be any good.”

“This will be the best time of your life.”

He kissed her, and massaged her breast, and teased her entrance until she moaned and urged him to enter. His cock nosed, nudged, and played. She mewled with frustration and desire, and only then did he work her, steadily pressing in. Every bite of friction and hungry moan sacrificed another inch until he was fully inside her, buried to the hilt.

She felt it as he did and pulled back, wonder shining in her beautiful dark eyes.

Alex needed Nicole. He needed to work through the upset he felt at watching everything that happened. Nearly losing her, more than once. Being helpless and far away. He needed to crawl inside her, to become her, for her to become him.

She is my mate.

No, not his mate. He would never have a mate. Couldn’t.

But he needed her like this.

They moved, his cock sliding into her wet pussy, filling her channel, bobbing against her inner walls, and she shuddered and clenched, crying out his name. Tears dripped down her cheeks, and she scratched at his back, but he was only just getting started. He continued pushing in, thrusting, hotter and harder, until she broke again. Only after she flopped a third time, the tears a torrent, did he finally pull out.

He curved her lax fingers around his trembling cock again.

She kissed his cock.

He exploded across her, marking her from head to toe as his. No one else’s. Only his.

She lay back in a boneless, quivering puddle of satisfaction. Her tears dried while he cleaned up the rest, offered to carry her back in for another shower, but she declined with his attentive bath.

“Like everything else about you, taking my virginity was one hundred percent perfect. I want to hate you, but nobody can hate that.”

“Of course you shouldn’t hate pleasure.” He wet the cloth with warm water and paid special attention to making her belly perfectly clean. “Why would you hate it?”

“Because I never thought I’d be so happy to forget my problems for a few hours like this. I’ve been facing my problems head-on for years.” She sighed and tugged at the ripped shreds of her clothes. She was still wearing sleeves and leggings. “This means we didn’t do anything really crazy, like get dragon married.”

His peacefulness cooled. “You’re not my mate. No one is. I will never marry. I can’t bring a dragonlet into this world. I’m sorry.”

Alex’s pronouncement—I will never marry—hung in the quiet space.

But Nicole did not react as he’d expected.

“Well, I totally get that, being on the run and whatnot.” She stretched with a groan and shouldered out of her clothes, then inspected herself and pulled on his robe. “Anyway, it’s not like this is true love or anything like that. And even if it was, there’s the whole matter of timing.”

He had heard that true love was the human conception of mates, but she made it sound different. “True love?”

She held up a hand of caution. “I don’t believe in true love. I believe that there are people out there who make you a better person, a better version of yourself. And when you find those people, gather them around, you’re going to find your person.”

“Your person?”

“The one who fits you best, who gets you, who makes you into the very best version of yourself that you can be.” She tightened the belt around her midsection, leaving him to straighten the edges. “Maybe that’s true love. Maybe that’s mates. But maybe it’s just two people out of a whole universe who’ve turned to each other, grown together, gotten stronger, and can conquer.”

He liked that. The coolness eased back to warmth. “Maybe you’re my person.”

“Um, after what we just shared, I hope I’m at least close.”

He laughed, a genuine sensation of amusement lifting his chest.

She blanched in surprise, then ruffled his hair and yawned. “Well, thanks. I’m not as afraid of falling asleep.”

“You feared sleep?”

“Nightmares. I’ve never witnessed violence that awful before. And you and Iolite had to grow up with it.”

He traced a protective symbol on her skin, not any particular one, just a silent promise to defend her from bad dreams. “I will never let either of us be alone with Titanite.”

“Titanite? Oh. She’s frightening, but I meant in the pavilion with Chrysotile.”

How odd. Since Nicole’s outburst had rescued baby Schorl and Emery would recover from her wounds, Alex hadn’t really thought of the incident a second time. The potential trauma had evaporated from his mind. He hadn’t even noticed a grainy residue.

Nicole was more sensitive. She refused to tolerate lies.

He’d been more fearful for her life since the moment she drew Chrysotile’s attention to herself. Schorl’s and Emery’s lives hadn’t impinged on his consciousness. They were the responsibility of Iolite for compromising them, so he hadn’t bothered to think of them again.

“What happened?” Nicole asked, drawing him back to the present. “With Titanite, I mean. Why did you get her lover executed?”

“Revenge.”

“For?”

He turned the truth over and over in his mind. There was no way to speak it without drawing up a submerged basket of shards that cut as he handled them, but he tried to do so as delicately as possible to shield Nicole.

“When I was a younger dragon, I became close to a female. Gypsum. She was a type of pristine white that makes Chrysotile look gray, and so she too was always on display.”

“Like you,” Nicole said.

“But she was pure. Gentle. And we were so sure of ourselves. Our sneakiness.”

“You got caught.”

“Titanite told Chrysotile. She disapproved.”

Nicole’s eyes flew wide. “Did she murder Gypsum in public?”

“No, she exiled her to the Colonies. But it was the same thing. Gypsum couldn’t work in a mine, and she certainly couldn’t fight. She didn’t last a month.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Titanite couldn’t stop gloating. I wouldn’t let her manipulate me today, but back then, it got in my head. My anger intensified. When Titanite grew friendly with another dragon, I…”

“You told on her. And the same thing happened?”

“The same. The exact same. Titanite didn’t realize it was my doing at first. I had to let her know.”

Nicole squinted at him. “Seriously? You said she bullied you her whole life.”

“And that was the one moment I deserved it. What’s the point of vengeance if you can’t see the look in their eyes when they figure out it was you?”

“Hm.” She muttered something about therapy, then focused on him again. “Was it worth it?”

“I used to think so.” He pulled her on top of him. “Now, instead of a cruel cousin intent on torturing me, I have a furious, cruel cousin intent on marrying me for the sole purpose of flaying off my scales and hanging them on her wall.”

Nicole’s lips twisted. “Questionable trade.”

“It’s not going to happen. Her parents will never think I’m good enough to be her husband, and so long as there’s only one Alexandrite in the Empire, Chrysotile will keep me alive. But the day that changes…”

“And your foster parents do nothing?”

“Well, they can’t really do anything, can they? They couldn’t stop what happened to their own daughter.”

“Iolite?”

“Her baby sister. She—”

“Oh, yeah. Iolite told me. How awful.”

“Chrysotile’s a monster, and she’s fireproof, which makes her the most dangerous kind. I think she gave me to them because my foster mother never fully recovered.”

“Oh, sure. When you’re a psychopath with no natural emotions, one baby is the same as another.” Nicole frowned at him. “What did your biological mom think?”

“Nothing. While it’s not a secret, I doubt she knows. And she’s not going to.” He stroked her. “I have to save myself.”

“You lived every day under the threat of death from a tyrant. That’s beyond my pay grade. Therapy, therapy, therapy.”

He nuzzled her. “You are my therapy.”

“Ha ha, then we’re all in trouble.”

He sobered and teased a long lock of dark hair between his fingers. So different from Gypsum, who’d been all white, and whom he’d never seen as a human anyway, yet so vital, so brave. “Thank you for speaking out. You saved Schorl and Emery, and by extension, me and Iolite. If I’d known, I’d have silenced your mouth, but it ended up being the most powerful thing you could have done. For all of us.”

She hid her face behind a fan of hair and made a noise.

“Hmm?”

She showed her red face, embarrassed by his kindness, and her fierce eyes flashed. “Never silence me.”

“You have a lot of rules. Don’t gaslight me, don’t lie to me, don’t silence me.”

“Um, those are all normal rules for having good relationships, hello.”

“So strange.”

“Really?”

He let the silence elongate, but allowed the peaceful contentment to rise again.

“Alex!”

He laughed, the warmth of her genuine sweetness filling him with a dangerous peace.

She poked him in the ribs and then subsided. He listened to her breathing even, and let himself fall asleep with her as well, waking a few times with an elbow in his throat or with his arm tingly from losing the circulation, but he just repositioned her and fell back asleep.

How many times in his life had he let his guard down?

Once, maybe twice.

Until now.

But he was still taking protective measures. There was a big difference between being important to each other and being mates. Nicole recognized that. She was holding back.

Neither of them would be hurt when they each went their own way.

She blinked lowered lashes, finally coming awake. “Oh. Hey.” She stretched and yawned. “I was afraid I’d have nightmares, but definitely that self-care right at the end made a difference.”

“Self-care?” He lifted the fabric and slid his hard cock between her thighs. “Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Mmhm.” Her lids lowered, and she arched her back, pressing her clothed buttocks against his abdomen. Her cheeks pinked.

Her invitation was unmistakable.

They had human sex again. He teased her sensitive nipples and tongued her lobes while his cock found her slick entrance. She moaned. He delved deep, filling her to the brim, and plundered her throbbing wet femininity, riding her into the blankets until she broke with an orgasmic scream. And again. And a third time, taking his own pleasure only after she begged, breathlessly, for him do it. He pulled out and striped her backside to match the front, and she jellied, quivering, while he cleared his mind.

She sat up unsteadily, sniffled, and wiped her cheeks with the backs of her hands. “I always thought you’d make me cry, but not like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Humans don’t usually cry after sex.”

“I don’t think so.” She sniffled again and shrugged. “I’m going along, feeling really good, and then really good, and then really, really good, and then bam! Feels.”

He didn’t know what to say. He only felt pleasure.

She held out her hands. “Shower, please.”

He helped her up and flew her to the wash station. She stood under the steaming-hot water, eyes closed, while he gently scrubbed down her body.

When she was all clean, he dried her off and dressed her in the same washed-and-dried-stiff outfit she’d worn to the celebration, including her boots. She rubbed the moon-and-stars design with satisfaction.

They ate the human food he’d found, and she made various quizzical faces through the flaky cereal bars and not-quite-chocolate powder.

Alex checked their flight. They were already in Ironstone territory in the Colonies.

Iolite’s voice came over the intercom. She must have noted the electronic access from her room. “Now that you’re awake, come to my room to plan our next attack.”

Alex held his hand out to Nicole.

She took his hand and stepped into his arms without hesitation.

He held her a little tighter.

His cock hardened again as he thought of how they could be passing the time. She flushed and trembled as though thinking the same thing. He flew her to Iolite’s matriarch quarters.

Iolite looked up from the maps she’d been reviewing. Her gaze was disapproving. “You should be resting and plotting. Titanite will not let you indulge in laziness.”

He’d thought Iolite had called him in to discuss their approach to the Colonies crash site, even though it had looked so straightforward to slice through the empty, unguarded, abandoned space on the trajectory they’d programmed.

But no.

She wanted to discuss what to do after they had sent the necessary proof to Flint.

“When we knock the legs out from under Ironstone, everyone in the family will have reason to hunt me,” he pointed out. “You included.”

“I am the first one they will suspect of collusion.” She sat on her massive haunches and flicked out her front claws, the smoke rising from her nostrils at her contained distress. “From the moment your brother publicizes the lie onward, I will need to stay ahead of Chrysotile and Crocoite until I have amassed a great enough following to challenge for the matriarch throne. That means you should prepare to fend off Titanite.”

“I intend to run also.”

“But you have more weaknesses.” Her gaze flicked to Nicole.

She’d gone to a secondary smaller bench and was sitting cross-legged, watching.

Alex’s scales shimmered with anger. “Your meaning?”

Iolite wisely did not mention Nicole. “Your mother, for instance, and your brothers. Even your sister.”

“Amber can hold her own, and my brothers are safe as long as Earth is.”

“Don’t underestimate Titanite. She will try to hurt you, and I can’t always be there to defend you.” Again, Iolite’s gaze flickered over Nicole. “You may spend so much effort keeping away from the females that could protect you that you end up alone with one who can’t.”

“I can outfly flames and claws,” he promised. “I’ll never put myself under her power.”

“Until she ambushes you and sprays you with lust hormones.”

Alex produced a small bottle of Febreze he’d secreted in his inner robe pocket for the entire night just in case. “There is a new anti-lust spray.”

Iolite shrank to human size and held the sample bottle. She sprayed it and sniffed. “Does it work?”

“There’s been a few field tests.”

“On a dragon?” Iolite frowned and handed it back. “Titanite won’t allow you the time to spray it in her face. She will wait until her moment and then trap you.”

“Then I’ll have to dose myself preemptively.” Alex sprayed his suit collar. “Let’s try it.”

Iolite’s eyes darkened to indigo. “You want me to spray you with lust hormones?”

Alex set the spray bottle beside Nicole. “Yes.”

Iolite hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” He breathed in the fresh scent, coating his nose, and faced the older sister he’d turned to for protection his entire life who would never, ever hurt him. “Go ahead. I’m ready.”

Iolite shifted into dragon, lifted her tail in his face, and unleashed her spray.

His mind went blank.

White, no-thought, empty blankness.

For an unknown period of time.

And then abruptly, the ship returned, coloring in the spaces where there had been nothing before.

Liquid dripped off his nose. He blinked rapidly. His eyes stung.

Nicole leveled the spray bottle at his face. The scent of the fresh Febreze clogged his nostrils. She sprayed him with it again, and he blinked rapidly to avoid the wet particles that misted him.

He was embracing a human female of an unfamiliar size and shape in his arms. Iolite. Her eyes fixed on his with dazed confusion, and her lips parted.

“Wha—?” he said.

“Welcome back.” Nicole lowered the spray bottle and stepped back, irritation mixed with worry. “Your test failed. You can’t spray Febreze on your shirt and expect to be okay. If Titanite sprays you, you’ll sweep her into your arms and perform a perfect seduction.” She dropped the bottle on the floor and returned to the bench, clambered back on top, and crossed her legs again.

Alex looked down at his sister, who was still melted against him with one hand fisted in his shirt. “Iolite?”

She blinked, and her expression changed to guilt. Her brows lowered. “Ah. Alex.”

“Why are you…?”

Iolite’s frown deepened. “Ah…”

“You begged her to transform so you could kiss all her worries away,” Nicole called from the bench. “You were very insistent. I didn’t hear everything, but what I did hear would make a porn star blush.”

“I can explain,” Iolite said.

Alex’s arms went lax. His arms just gave up. He lost all feeling, but a deep and abiding horror washed over him. “What?”

Iolite fell to one knee. Pain crossed her features. She lifted one hand. “Alex…”

Although he had seen her nude plenty of times, just like all dragons, this was the first time the view of her frightened him. He stepped back. His body felt heavy. He wanted to lock himself in a cage. “I thought I was safe with you.”

“You are.” She floated toward him. “You always are.”

He backed away. “Then what were you doing?”

“I thought…” Her gaze dropped to his shirt, then the spray bottle Nicole had dropped, and back to him. “I got confused.”

He pleaded with this not to be true. Iolite hadn’t just destroyed a lifetime of trust. She hadn’t sprayed him and then taken advantage of him under her influence when he couldn’t control himself. “How?”

She tried to put a hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry.”

He jerked away. “Don’t touch me.”

Iolite looked shocked and then deeply sad. She closed her eyes.

He edged away.

His entire life, females had tried to trap him. Older females, younger ones, entitled aristocrats, opportunistic low-caste staff. He’d done whatever he’d needed to do to keep himself safe. He’d learned early on how to lead would-be assaulters into traps that ended with their own doom. Titanite’s lover, Sphene, wasn’t the first one he’d gotten into trouble with Chrysotile.

On Earth, he’d been laughably more powerful than every other creature. Subterfuge hadn’t been necessary. He’d barely had to show teeth, and the females would back off. He’d learned to tone down his response. He’d even relaxed.

Apparently, he’d trusted too much.

Far, far too much.

Iolite looked sad and regretful, but that was nowhere near what he felt right now. “I trusted you.”

She flinched.

“I trusted you,” he repeated, sharper and more bitter. “I trusted you.”

She looked away.

Nicole stayed where she was, and for that, Alex was grateful. He didn’t want to see any female. He didn’t want to touch any female. Nicole gave him space.

“I’m going back to my room,” he declared.

“Alexandrite,” Iolite started.

“Stay away from me.”

The ship blared a sudden warning, interrupting them where they stood. “Proximity alert. Warship hailing with weapons targeted. Evasive maneuvers disabled. Prepare for emergency stop.”

Bilgefire.

Iolite swooped to the controls.

Alex tackled Nicole to shelter her in case the ship couldn’t compensate with gravity.

“I thought this was an empty section of space!” she cried in his ear, holding on tightly.

“Your brother was wrong.” Iolite’s voice was clipped, all business in her dragon form once more. “If I see him in person, I will bite his spine out.”

“Flint’s never wrong.” The emergency shoved her betrayal into the back of his mind, right where he stuffed everything else unpleasant in his life that he’d had to ignore for survival. “I’ll pass on your feelings.”

The ship shuddered and moaned, but aside from the rocky tremble, they made the emergency stop safely.

The wall screen changed to show a fierce male dragon. “Vessel of male dragon Silverin, you are in restricted Ironstone planetary territory.”

Iolite flew in front of Alex and Nicole and puffed up to a deadly female size. Her tone was imperious and yet contained. “I am Iolite Ironstone, heir and future matriarch to all of Ironstone, and you will let me pass at once.”

The male’s eyes widened. His mouth opened and closed. He glanced at the others behind him. “What’s an Ironstone heir doing all the way out here?”

“That’s my business, insolent male. Who are you? Who do you report to?”

He straightened. “I report to Obsidian Ironstone. All who come here must be stopped and interrogated.”

“Now you have interrogated me. But you will not dare to stop me. If you think I obey the whim of any male, much less my easily chipped little cousin, I will go after you personally, and then him.”

The male swallowed. He bowed formally. “I apologize, future matriarch Iolite. The area is unsafe for dragons.”

“I will determine that.”

“The, uh, damaged planet is unstable. A pleasure cruiser such as yours can’t travel there.”

“Explain.”

“Any mine-damaged ground you land on could collapse at any moment. A dragon of your importance shouldn’t be here. No one should.”

“I will inspect this damage myself.”

“You don’t need to! We can send you any data you need from here. It’s unsafe, truly. If you are endangered, we cannot leave our position to assist in your rescue.”

“Send me everything you have.” She closed the connection and turned to Alex. “If we can see what we need from their data, then we have no need to go down to the planet.”

Images from the warship appeared on her view screen. They showed that the crash site area was intact, and that there actually was a large shell of metal still there.

If the Ironstone hull had been removed, then a different hull must have been buried.

They would have to go down.

“We have a few hours until Obsidian will catch up with us.” Iolite input their trajectory to go to the crash site. “Shorter now that we’ve had to make this emergency stop.”

Alex joined her by the view screen. “He’ll have to make the stop also.”

“Especially if it’s on the brink of going supernova,” Nicole commented.

Alex and Iolite met eyes once more, and he jerked away, angry all over again. He told Nicole, “Planets don’t go supernova. You’re thinking of stars. The worst that will happen is that we anchor overhead and take a smaller transport down over the site.”

Working beside Iolite was only possible by shutting down all his emotions and going colder than he’d ever gone before. He couldn’t think of what had happened moments earlier. She seemed to be doing the same, but sadness and regret mixed with her focused questions and answers.

The planet loomed beneath their screens. Black clouds choked the skies, and when they pierced the roiling clouds, rivers of lava flowed over the punctured ground.

“Looks like hell,” Nicole murmured. “Literally. And those bore holes make the ground look like it’s been eaten by termites.”

Iolite frowned at Nicole. She leaned toward Alex to conference more privately. “You should leave her on the ship.”

He leaned away. “She will wear suitable exposure clothing.”

“She will distract from our work.”

“I’m happy to stay on the ship,” Nicole interjected. “I mean, what are the odds that something bad will happen to me again the moment you turn your back? Right?”

Alex’s chest thrummed. He rested a hand on her slender, vulnerable shoulder. “I need your recorder.”

Nicole popped it off her chest to give it to him.

He pressed it back into her chest plate. “You have to keep us honest.”

Her smile wavered from brightly cheerful to a deeper understanding. She tucked her hair behind her ears and looked back at the passing landscape. “I’ll stay close.”

“I know.”

Iolite frowned. “It’s dangerous to bring a human.”

“It’s more dangerous if we’re delayed and Obsidian finds her alone.”

While Iolite programmed in the landing site, Alex outfitted Nicole for exiting the ship into a hostile environment.

All dragon ships were equipped with human-form exposure suits and materials in case of a situation like this. In dragon form, he was hardier, but a human-form suit was cheaper to make because it required less fabric. He slipped on his own exposure suit, then sealed hers up to her chin.

She snorted at the thin reflective fabric. It bunched at her ankles and wrists. “This is nuts.”

He handed her gloves and a clear helmet, and they met Iolite wearing the same reflective attire at the smaller transport ship.

The smaller ship was about the same vintage as the drone that had originally taken them to the Outer Rim. Nicole clomped aboard.

“We won’t be delayed,” Iolite told him, continuing the argument with disapproval.

He turned his coldest smile on his foster sister. “Forgive me if I don’t have as much faith in your every utterance, future matriarch Iolite.”

She blinked. Her human eyes turned opaque gray. “Don’t treat me like Titanite. You won’t like my response.”

“More than I liked the response when I thought you were my only ally?” He turned away, cutting off any reply.

She growled low in her chest. “There was no time to think. You will not torment me for an error of a moment.”

“Yes, I’m sure that’s how you planned to comfort Emery after Chrysotile murdered her dragonlet.” He entered and sat beside Nicole for the bumpy ride down to the surface.

The whole cabin was silent.

Iolite stood at the control panel. The look in her eye was dangerous. He shouldn’t push her when they already had enemies at every side. But he’d never expected enemies within. Right now, even if they had a way to win, he only saw loss.

The ride down to the surface of the hell planet was silent as an industrial freezer, and Nicole was feeling the oh-so-awkward chill.

She didn’t blame Alex. He’d fallen under the influence of the lust hormones like a drunk frat girl at Mardi Gras and woken up to find the one dragon he trusted like an older sister to keep him safe to be taking advantage of the situation.

She also didn’t blame Iolite, or at least, not as much as she might.

The imperious dragon had sprayed Alex and then waited at a reasonable distance. A weird expression had passed over his face. He’d turned the charm up to eleven and broken off the knob.

Stalking to the massive dragon, he’d kissed up her scaled forearm while promising to introduce her to pleasures she hadn’t known possible. She’d shifted to human, put a mildly irritated hand up to his face, and gently shoved him off with a warning.

He’d captured and kissed her palm, teasing the fingers, pressing her to his torso, and doing all the things he’d done in his first pursuit of Nicole. It had clearly messed with Iolite’s head. To the point that she’d stopped resisting, and that was when Nicole had stepped in and sprayed him in the face with the Febreze.

If that hadn’t worked? Well, hopefully Iolite would have snapped out of it. She really had seemed confused and embarrassed. Alex was an unstoppable sexual force. They would never know.

Alex’s seduction was perfect, like all of him. Who could resist? Nicole hadn’t, and she’d had a lot longer to get used to the idea and reject it. He’d insisted that he needed her, and she’d melted. Opened her arms, invited him in. Lost herself in his embrace, his kiss, his body-tingling, mind-blowing, trauma-numbing sex. She’d seen death and had chosen life. She’d chosen him.

Nicole could love him with her whole heart. Even though he was damaged, twisted, cold. The chips of ice stuck out like daggers from his heart, warning everyone away. He needed a lot more therapy and a much more skilled therapist to melt those daggers away.

This moment of love was going to hurt. He’d hurt her someday.

But last night, and even still right now, Nicole accepted her future pain. She wanted to help Alex. She’d emotionally support him while they fell silently to the destroyed planet that could someday mirror Earth’s future if they didn’t stop the Ironstone family right now.

“Was it once beautiful?” she asked Alex.

“Hm?” He focused on her, then the landscape visible on the view screen. “No.”

“It wasn’t full of life that your family killed off until it went extinct so Chrysotile could mount the last specimen on her wall?”

“This planet was irregularly visited by Colonial miners before Ironstone. It had debris fields, chemical run-off seas, and rust-stained red rock that did not sustain life.”

“How were they able to mine if they couldn’t live here?”

He tipped his head to acknowledge that she’d asked a good question. “Dragons can survive harsh conditions for a short time. The Colonial miners made short trips. When Ironstone entered the Colony Wars, they obviously didn’t care about worker health. When they ran out of local workers, they used prisoners of war and political dissenters.”

The drone centered over abandoned mining equipment and landed on a broken-up landing pad with a thunk. It tilted to the right.

Iolite stood by the door. She wore her helmet. “The original crash site is a few miles north and a half mile under the crust. Ready?”

Alex helped affix Nicole’s clear helmet.

“If it’s buried, how do you know where to go?” Nicole’s question echoed in her helmet.

He flipped a switch and the echo disappeared. His voice sounded normal. “Dragon ships are made with a relatively rare type of mineral known as Dragonium X. A large deposit appeared within the old crash site.”

“The old mining house to shelter overseers would appear the same way,” Iolite corrected.

He ignored her. “However, the overseers’ shelter was marked elsewhere on the visuals sent over by the warship. It must have been destroyed during the collapse.”

The airlock hissed, and Nicole heard it as naturally as if she weren’t wearing a big plastic bag.

The outer door opened.

Iolite flew out.

Alex strolled with Nicole down the gangplank to the broken-up landing pad.

Nicole picked her way over the uneven ground. Her boots adhered well to the inner suit tread. She reached the edge of the landing pad.

They’d landed in a true mineral wasteland.

Iolite angled toward cliffs.

Alex held his arm out for Nicole. She latched on to him. They floated after Iolite.

The landing pad was on the edge of a valley. The gray-black-brown surface was pocked with acne scars like terrible termite holes, insect-like, where a ravenous creature had stuck in its proboscis and sucked out the blood of the world over and over again. Rivers shimmered like oil slicks, and water bodies reflected poison back at the dead sky. Dry dust storms wore blade shapes into barren rock cliffs.

Even if it had never been inhabited, it couldn’t have always been this ugly. Nicole shivered in Alex’s arms.

He frowned. “You shouldn’t feel cold.”

“It’s an emotional reaction,” she assured him. “This whole place ‘feels’ cold, you know? Like nothing could ever live here. What did they mine?”

“A variety of things. For one—”

A shout interrupted them. Bright lights flashed on, and red lasers seared the air, sparking flames. “Land and obey, cocky aristocrat victims!”

Iolite dove one way. Alex dove the opposite.

A pure white dragon, like freshly fallen snow against the dirty ground of the wasteland, wheeled overhead. Alex saw her, made a choking sound, and dropped to the ground. It was strangely unbroken and metallic here.

He landed hard. “Gypsum!”

* * *

Alex’s mind raced.

Gypsum was alive. She’s alive.

Iolite landed beside him. She looked on guard but unafraid.

Gypsum banked and flew for the ground. She disappeared down a hole.

Walls snapped up around them and dimmed the sky to gray twilight. The air hummed.

They’d stepped into an old mine elevator that was apparently still functioning well enough to filter out the poisons and make the atmosphere breathable.

A few moments later, Gypsum climbed the rock as a fully-grown woman wearing a patchy beige coverall. Her skin looked so white, she exuded purity and nearly glowed, just like in his memories. Even her irises were white, rimmed by a thin line of black, and she was truly hairless, with alopecia that removed even her eyebrows. She moved like a dancer with a luscious sway to her hips. A full bust, strong arms, and she had a foot on Nicole, yet she was graceful and willowy.

“Alexandrite. I promised myself I’d see you again someday. I didn’t think it would be here.”

Alex released Nicole and took a shocked step forward. He just couldn’t understand. “You survived! They told me you had died.”

“I’m stronger than you thought.”

“And you’ve been living here at the original crash site?”

“Since the ‘accident’ that closed the mine and chased away your sorry, pathetic rulers.”

Alex closed his hands into fists. A deep shame welled inside. “I’m sorry.”

Amusement curved her lips. “For what?”

“Everything. Being a cocky would-be aristocrat. Not knowing that you were here. For my role in what happened to you.”

She smiled more broadly and stepped back. “I forgive you.”

He let out a sigh, and tension escaped his body. He had tensed for a fight. Luckily, that wasn’t what was going to happen.

Gypsum flicked out her claws, proving him wrong. “But I don’t forgive her.”

Alex whipped behind him to protect Nicole, realized Gypsum was glaring over his opposite shoulder, and kept turning.

Iolite glowered.

Confusion fogged Alex’s brain. “No, Titanite betrayed you.”

Gypsum grinned with rage. She’d always been so gentle, and this expression showed just how much she’d grown and changed to survive the harsh environment.

She clacked her claws in the gesture of someone who’d been living in prison, dreaming for years of the chance to get justice on the one who’d put her here. “No, Titanite didn’t. I heard everything. Your parents reported me, and how did they know? By your mama’s girl, ‘future matriarch’ Iolite.”

Alex went lax with shock. “No. That’s impossible.”

“Oh, is it? Is it, really?”

Iolite didn’t deny it. The silence stretched.

Alex rocked back from what was the second betrayal in as many hours.

A kind hand clamped over his forearm. Through the glove and the suit, Nicole’s hand gripped him. Bright determination shone in her brown eyes. Wordless support filled him with strength. He was not alone in this elevator. She would hold him up if she had to.

He steadied on his feet, but his voice wobbled unnaturally. “Iolite? You did that?”

Iolite flicked her gaze from the threat of Gypsum to Alex and quickly back again.

“All this time, you let me believe…” His throat squeezed. He broke off.

Iolite answered in clipped tones. “I made a mistake.”

Anger boiled. “But you let me believe it was Titanite. For years. Even now—”

“You’re the one who made that error. You were too obsessed.”

“I trusted you.” Rage welled into a ball. He cleared his throat. “I will never forgive you.”

Iolite’s neck reddened, and her chin wrinkled.

A man’s voice boomed. “And I don’t forgive you, Alexandrite.”

Alex whipped around. A man had climbed up next to Gypsum, and Alex’s dread grew. “Sphene.”

Sphene had close-shorn brown hair, eyes like pale yellow-green glass, and a better-patched beige jumpsuit. His body was stringy, and his arms were hard like knots. “You stripped everything from me. Which is why Gypsum and I have been waiting.”

“We volunteered for every patrol,” Gypsum said with a cheery, fang-filled grin.

“Waiting for the chance, just the slightest chance, that someday, a ship would be dumb enough to dock here so we could capture it and fly after you. Never did we dream that you’d land yourself.”

“Both of you!” Gypsum raised her claw-filled fists with an excited squeal.

“Truly, it is destiny.”

“Destiny,” Gypsum chimed.

Alex raised both his palms. Two attackers against him and Iolite left Nicole vulnerable. He had to diffuse this situation. “I did not exile you. That was Crocoite. And I did not fabricate your relationship to Titanite. You chose to mate.”

Sphene looked at Gypsum.

They both broke into laughter, rich and delighted.

“I chose. I chose!” Sphene gasped and wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. “I don’t know if you can call what happened mating. I was her tutor, which meant I was forced to spend time with her in close quarters. Perhaps the greatly desired rare Alexandrite has never been the victim of a female’s lust hormone spray, but there is very little choice about it.”

Alex’s stomach clenched.

“So I was victimized twice,” Sphene continued, and the green glass in his eyes hardened into shards. “First by Titanite and then by you. Now? I take my revenge.”

The fight was inevitable.

Iolite removed her helmet and stepped out of her suit.

Alex kept both palms raised. He couldn’t let this happen.

But these dragons he’d once known were strangers to him. He had no leverage on them, no way to scheme, no ability to twist this to his advantage. He was reduced to begging for Nicole’s safety.

“Don’t hurt her. She’s a human from Earth and has no part in any of this.”

Sphene looked at Gypsum and shrugged.

Gypsum turned her opaque white eyes on Alex with pity. “Unlike you and Iolite, Sphene and I wouldn’t hurt an innocent bystander just to provoke our enemies.”

Nicole piped up, her voice wobbly with fear. “Um, great! But I can’t pilot the ship, and if I get stranded here, that’s going to hurt pretty bad.”

“Sphene can pilot it,” Gypsum assured her. “Or one of the others. We’ll take you with us when we go out to wreak our vengeance on Ironstone, for a start.”

“There’s a warship beyond the outer marker.” Iolite was calm and cold as always. Her purple eyes shone clear and determined. “You’ll never get past it without me onboard.”

Gypsum looked at Sphene. “Just like you predicted. It explains why no one ever answered our calls.”

He grinned with all fangs. “Have you ever played who-will-suicide-first with a warship?”

“It sounds like a lot more fun than dying slowly here,” Gypsum said.

The couple turned back to face them and tensed for the fight.

“Then you won’t get your revenge,” Alex said quickly, still with palms raised in surrender. “If you suicide against a warship, you get nothing. The only option is to work with us. We’re here to record the historic crash site and bring down Ironstone. Iolite can help you.”

“Will she, though?” Sphene barely glanced at Iolite. His whole focus was on Alex. “Do you really believe she won’t turn on all of us the moment she deposes Chrysotile?”

Once he would have passionately defended Iolite to the end.

Once meaning a few short hours ago.

Now?

Iolite focused all her might on the attackers. Once he would have thought that was noble and wise because she was defending them. But now he wasn’t so sure.

Sphene grinned. He and Gypsum were so, so amused.

Then Sphene sobered. His long claws flicked out, and green shards erupted over his taut forearms. “You’re a smug, slimy, stupid low caste who thinks we’re idiots because we once trusted you. But you made a mistake coming here. You destroyed everything both of us value. So you can both die.”

Alex dropped his hands and braced. Whoever attacked first, he would keep them away from Nicole. He would—

“Wait!” Nicole raised her arms and jogged into the middle, shouting like a ref at a contentious match. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Gypsum rested on her heels in curiosity. “Who are you?”

“I’m Nicole, and,” she sucked in a deep, terrified breath and let out the rest in a rush, “I’m going to be your unwilling spontaneous group therapy leader today.”

* * *

“Group therapy?” Alex’s exiled ex-girlfriend, the gorgeous and graceful Gypsum, repeated.

Even though Sphene held a bitter, sharp, justified anger, Gypsum clearly dictated what happened. He’d been poised to jump Alex several times, and each time, he’d glanced back at Gypsum before making his attack.

Gypsum was clearly angry at Iolite, but she’d gone from narrowly focused to broadly delighted by Alex’s shock and sense of betrayal. Sure, she still clacked her claws, but she also danced on her ragged boots, giggled, and looked genuinely happy.

That was what gave Nicole hope. At least enough to try a sudden group session, which could not possibly make anything worse.

“Here’s how group therapy works. We support and help each other. First we each go around and say how we feel. Everyone affirms the feelings. Then what we’re struggling with. Everyone gives ideas for how to resolve the problem. Okay?”

Gypsum looked blank. Sphene focused his rage on Alex, and Iolite split her focus between everyone.

“Okay. I’ll go first. My name’s Nicole, I’m a human, and I’m feeling scared right now because I’m stranded on a toxic alien planet with a bunch of dragons that I’m afraid are going to murder each other.”

“Fair,” Sphene said, proving he was listening despite his focus never wavering from Alex.

“You won’t be harmed,” Alex promised her, even though he couldn’t meet her gaze. “No matter what happens between us, no dragon will harm an unarmed human.” He glared at Sphene, Gypsum, and even Iolite. “I vow it.”

Everyone agreed. No one cared about the human.

Nicole had never been so grateful to be not cared about. “Okay, who’ll go next? Iolite?”

She remained stiff. “I have nothing to say.”

“Sphene?”

His green glare intensified on Alex, and his claws lengthened.

“Er, no. Alex.”

The silence lengthened.

She mentally urged him. Yes, sharing his feelings was his worst nightmare, but life and death were on the line here.

His two-tone gaze flicked to her. His jaw muscles bunched. He spoke through gritted teeth. “My closest ally betrayed me—”

“Start with how you feel,” she interrupted.

“Betrayed,” he spat.

Iolite flinched.

“Say ‘I feel betrayed because…’.”

Alex turned his glare on Nicole.

She felt the weight, the heat, of what she was asking.

But he got past it and did it anyway for her. “I feel betrayed because my closest friend who I trusted with everything. Everything.” He glared at Iolite and then away. “Has been harboring a disgusting obsession with me and has been plotting against me this whole time.”

Gypsum laughed with tinkling delight. “I knew it.”

“You did.” Alex affirmed some ancient history that no one else was a part of. “You told me, and I didn’t believe you. I didn’t believe that a dragon I’d trusted as a sister since I was a dragonlet was manipulating me.”

Iolite’s mouth pinched. She absorbed the blows, looking sad and bitter, but did not respond.

“Very good.” Nicole meant that for everyone participating. She patted Alex’s hard forearm. “That was very honest.”

He shuddered.

“Okay, so the second part is, what are you struggling with?”

“How to ever even look at her again.”

Iolite flinched.

“Um, right, and it will be super hard to complete this mission to overthrow Chrysotile and save Earth if we can’t make eye contact.” She rotated to Sphene and Gypsum. “You guys?”

Gypsum rested her palm on her chest. “Well, I was right.”

“Say ‘I feel vindicated,’” Nicole urged.

“I feel great, because first of all, I always knew there was something messed up between these two, and Alexandrite called me jealous. Ha ha! Of what? Right? And now to have you all here and it’s finally revealed so I get to see your faces…”

“Feels great, huh?”

“I could do a little victory dance right here.”

“Please go ahead.”

“Thank you, I will.” Gypsum gyrated and crowed, dancing around in a swaying circle, while the others watched in consternation. She finished with a big, satisfied sigh. “I have no problems that need to be resolved now.”

“Literally nothing?” Nicole pushed. “You’re happy right here in this wasteland?”

Gypsum blinked.

“I mean, we do have a ship. It runs, and Iolite can get you past the warship. You don’t have to be stuck here, right?”

Her lips jutted. She seemed not to have thought of anything past this moment of being proved right to Alex.

Sphene leaned over and spelled it out for her. “After I murder Alexandrite, you can take over all his luxuries.”

“Hmm.”

“Oh!” Nicole waved her gloved hands. “We’ll, uh, come back to you, Gypsum. Sphene, are you ready?”

He interlocked his long claws and cracked his still-human knuckles. A cocky grin split his scarred face. “More than ready.”

“To, uh, to share your feelings.”

“Yeah.” He placed one palm on his chest in a near mirror of Gypsum earlier, but his claws spread across his bicep like knives of death. “I feel like I’m going to murder you, Alexandrite, in a fair fight without any of your smarmy manipulations. After I chew up your rare heart and shred your oh-so-precious scales, I’m going to take your ship and return Gypsum to where she belongs. The only struggle will be how fast I can kill you.”

And then without another second, he flew at Alex.

Nicole shrieked. “Stop!”

Alex dove back.

Sphene pivoted. Wings burst from his shoulder blades. His limbs elongated, stretching the jumpsuit. He pushed off the ground and sliced at Alex’s face.

Alex dropped and slipped.

Scales poured over his skin in defense.

Sphene gripped his throat, choking him midshift.

Alex clenched his clawed grip.

Gypsum watched, a claw in her teeth, curious.

Nicole had relied on her to stop Sphene, and she wouldn’t.

“Stop.” Iolite’s voice rolled over them like thunder, dominating, totally different from her usual personality. She burst into dragon. The shine of a hundred suns glowed in her belly, and the colors tinged blue. “I haven’t spoken yet.”

They paused. Sphene’s teeth hovered over Alex’s throat.

“I feel regret,” Iolite said, and stopped.

Everyone waited.

She didn’t continue.

Nicole licked her dry lips. “And?”

Conflicting emotion crossed Iolite’s face. She apparently kept even more tightly held secrets than Alex, and drawing them out was even harder on her. “Regret and great concern.”

Alex wriggled out of Sphene’s grasp and stepped back. He straightened his exposure suit, smoothed his hair, and, in an instant, was perfect.

“I have always considered you under my protection.” Iolite picked and chose her words. “Greater than that, my ally. If I overthrow Chrysotile, I will struggle to hold the loyalties of the lower families. I have cultivated the reputation of being a careful thinker over a decisive actor because it is accurate and a sharp break from the current regime, but that label also has weaknesses. I cannot allow the families to fracture or mini regimes to operate beneath my notice. If I doubt the loyalty of my closest ally, how can I defend against my true enemies?”

Her honest, heartfelt question echoed with quiet wisdom over the group.

Sphene shrugged. “You don’t rule me. I’m going to murder this dragon.”

“Then you’re letting a private vendetta sabotage our one chance of removing the actual dragons who exiled you,” Iolite replied, trying to reach him with logic rather than force.

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” Gypsum said.

Sphene flew to her immediately. His tone and manner changed to a concerned plea. “This is for you. He hurt you. They both did.”

“I know and our mistake was being dumb youths. We’re not young anymore.”

He shook his head.

She rested her tough white hands on his scarred knuckles. “We knew Chrysotile was a monster. We knew the families beneath her did terrible things. We endured or ignored the needless suffering of their victims during how many family purification ‘celebrations’? We thought we were immune, and we were wrong.” She flicked her gaze at Alex. “Let your anger go.”

Sphene turned a snarl on Alex. “Admit that you wronged me.”

Alex didn’t hesitate. “I did.”

Nicole let out a silent sigh.

Sphene and Gypsum exchanged glances. He shrugged and took her hand.

She swung it idly. “You’re going to that old crash site, aren’t you? The way is through the mines. We’ll take you.”

Sphene raised his brows. “Oh, will we?”

“Yes.” She kissed his nose. “We will.”

He shrugged again and lifted off in tandem with her. They dropped down the slight cliff.

Alex affixed his helmet again while Iolite put on her suit. The mood was tense and silent. Alex avoided looking at Iolite and held Nicole securely. They dropped over the cliff after Sphene and Gypsum, and into a dark hole that went seemingly deep underground.

Nicole rested her head on Alex’s shoulder. Stress tremors made her fingers numb. Somehow, she’d survived.

They landed at the opening of a massive tunnel. Alex began walking after the distant Sphene and Gypsum, who seemed to be in their own world. Nicole walked beside him.

Iolite matched her stride, shortening her longer legs. “You did something on the surface I did not expect.”

“Group therapy,” Nicole said. “You should try it with a licensed, experienced therapist. It will go way better.”

“But even in your unskilled state, you changed the situation. As during the Triple Crown speech, your outcry altered the course of violence to discussion.” Iolite twisted her lips in deep thought. “I have often been accused of cowardice because I prefer thinking before resolute action. Today, you convinced our enemies that frivolous talk about feelings and desires has value.”

“I recommend therapy for everyone,” Nicole agreed. “Are you looking for a therapist? I have some names. Of course, they’re all on Earth.”

“Which does us no good if the Crocoite line blows it up.”

“Right. We should definitely stop that.”

Iolite’s eyes deepened their color, as though she’d been undecided on Earth’s fate before this moment, but now silently vowed to protect it.

Well, good.

Alex strode ahead of them into the cavern where the ship crash was supposed to be.

Iolite paused outside and studied Nicole as a real person instead of a possession attached to Alex. “You are so small, and yet you have acquired such wisdom. Perhaps your physical weakness has given you greater insight as a survival skill.”

“Sure. In the right context, any weakness can become a strength.”

Iolite nodded slowly, really seeming to hear her. “Any weakness…”

Alex called out from inside, “It’s not here.”

Iolite frowned. She floated in. “What do you mean, it’s not here?”

Nicole hurried after.

The site was a big crater inside the rock with nothing in it, just the image of a long-ago impact.

Alex stood in the center of the impact and kicked a few small baseball-sized rocks. “There’s no ship. Nothing. It’s not here, and it’s never been here.”

“What did we see on the map, then?”

A new female voice spoke craftily from the shadows. “You saw the old mine house, Iolite Ironstone.”

Dragons emerged from the edges of the crater, floating overhead and grinning down on them.

Alex flew to Nicole and sheltered her protectively. He shouted, “You forgave us. You promised to let us go!”

“I did forgive you.” Gypsum spoke from the center with Sphene. “And I am willing to let you go. But I’m not the only dragon who’s been betrayed and abandoned by the Ironstones, am I?” Her gaze narrowed on Iolite. “You want to leave here, you’ll have to answer to them, ‘future matriarch.’”

Alex prepared to defend Nicole against the new betrayal. His scales jumped beneath his skin, and he tensed for the fight.

The dragons he saw outnumbered them hundreds to one, but most were ropey like Sphene and Gypsum. Others were broken dragons who’d endured backbreaking labor before being abandoned, enduring decades without proper nutrients. Their claws were curled and their teeth improperly sharpened. But there were so many. Could Iolite defeat all of them?

An elder spokesperson singled out Iolite. “Future Ironstone heir. You have somehow quelled the anger of our young patrol. Your matriarch exiled us to die. We have something to say about that. Why should we not murder you and return your savaged carcass to send our message?”

Iolite hesitated to answer.

The dragons rumbled. They wanted an answer, and they wanted it now. Dragons started down the rim to attack.

Nicole called out, “No way! You’d be doing Chrysotile a favor.”

Iolite turned and made a slashing gesture. She’d had a different plan, and Nicole had just ruined it.

“What does that mean?” the elder asked, and the others swooped back to the rim. “Are you not the chosen heir?”

Iolite faced the elder. “Chrysotile has not selected an heir. But it’s true that my mother and aunt favor Cousin Titanite.”

The mutters grew louder.

Crocoite had been in charge of this mine, which meant that their fate was well known to her. Obsidian must know too. Titanite didn’t care enough about anyone outside herself to change the conditions.

“The matriarch will notice if you are returned dead,” the elder replied.

“She’ll notice, but she won’t care,” Nicole said, drawing their attention back to her. “Iolite’s not that rare, and Chrysotile already has a duplicate heir, which I’m sure she hates. Seriously, you’ll be doing her a favor. What you want to do is help Iolite take over the family, and she can get you what you want.”

Iolite’s lips pinched.

The elder grimaced. “And what do you think we want, small human?”

“You said you wanted to send a message. You want to tell Chrysotile that what happened to you wasn’t okay. You want to tell the world—the Empire—so that everyone knows you were sent here, you survived, and that you’re not going to conveniently disappear just because they want you gone. No.” Nicole stabbed her finger at the crater floor. “You’re still here. You won’t be ignored. And the entire Empire is going to hear you roar.”

The elder’s eyes narrowed.

Murmuring increased again. It was a quickening, interested sound.

Alex too felt the rising hope in his chest. The sensation of being heard, of opening. Instead of squishing his anger in, Nicole allowed him to express his feelings outward. That was something she’d always given him. It was what he needed.

“That is not all we want,” the elder said.

“What else do you want?” Nicole asked. “To go home? See your families? Sleep in a nice dragon bed and eat tasteless protein paste? Get back your health and relax and visit with friends and be respected and have a life?”

The murmuring increased yet a third time. The elder’s lips twitched, and she moved her weight from one bony claw to the other. “You promise a lot for one who has no power.”

“You’re right. I’m just along for the ride. Emotionally supporting the dragons who can hopefully stop Earth from being destroyed the same way this planet has been.” She gestured at Iolite. “You have the future matriarch right here. And the future is coming up fast. What do you want from her? Here is your chance.”

The elder studied Iolite for a long, measuring moment. She hadn’t survived and protected this community by being stupid.

“How are you going to overthrow Chrysotile?” a dragon called out from somewhere on the upper rim.

Another cried out, “What are your plans?”

Iolite looked from one dragon to another, not speaking. She didn’t seem frozen, but she did seem to be weighing her words too long.

The elder eventually quieted everyone and repeated the question. “What are your plans, future matriarch?”

“I…don’t know,” Iolite said.

Anger bubbled into the crowd.

She held up a palm, imperious despite her position, and it worked a little to get quiet. “That is to say my original plans are no longer possible.”

“Which were?”

“I…had intended to start a war of attrition between Ironstone and Zeolite using the false ship’s hull we expected to find buried here.”

Low simmering anger continued.

Dangerous shadows moved overhead. Alex drew Nicole close once more.

“When I take over Ironstone, you will be reinstated into your families of origin. Your problems, your crimes, whatever those were, will be forgiven. That I can vow.”

Quiet dropped.

It wasn’t a joyful noise, but an uneasy caution.

The elder lifted one brow. “And when will you have ‘the power’?”

“After I overthrow Aunt Crocoite and Chrysotile.”

The muttering started again, and the elder spoke over it. “I see. And what is your plan for overthrowing your elderly, powerful, perhaps indomitable aunts?”

Iolite grimaced. But she answered. “I will gather my allies.”

“You don’t sound confident, future matriarch.”

She shook her head. “I must gather them before I challenge my aunts and cousin.”

“And cousin.” The elder rolled her lips and searched the dark reaches of the upper caverns as though seeking an answer just out of her reach, while the skeptical noises of the crowd reinforced Iolite’s wishy-washy body language. “So, three powerful female dragons stand between your goal and our freedom, including the most powerful matriarch to ever rule Ironstone, who is also fireproof. Against such enemies, what allies can you possibly gather?”

Iolite grimaced again. She clearly also did not feel confident of herself or whoever she was about to call on.

Nicole stepped forward out of his protection again. “Iolite has you.”

* * *

The head dragon cocked a dragon brow at Nicole, while Iolite herself looked like she wished Nicole would just shut up.

“Us?” the elder drawled. “We are your important allies to defeat Chrysotile?”

The dragons laughed.

Nicole heated as if she’d dipped into the lava river. Now she could check off being publicly humiliated by abandoned rebel miner dragons in a battle stadium. Great. She was going to have an epic session to bring out for her next emergency therapy.

“You,” she said, doubling down. “Yes, you.”

“Perhaps humans overestimate the power of a ragtag group of undernourished exiles,” the elder said, “but dragons do not.”

“You should. Because that’s exactly what I’m talking about.” She stabbed her finger at Sphene and Gypsum. “Alex said you were dead. Both of you. It was a mental trauma, and probably means he’ll never really feel safe loving anybody because they might get ripped away from him—abandonment issues, you know. But here you are, miraculously alive. You’re not dead.”

“I’m not dead,” Gypsum repeated, a wry smile on her face. She tipped her head to rest against Sphene’s broad shoulder. “Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated.”

“Everybody thinks all of you are dead. So what’s the point of crying? What’s the point of doing anything? Your friends, your loved ones, your family—they’ve moved on, but I guarantee you, they’ve never forgotten. They just think there’s no point. They think it’s too late. What’s done is done. But it’s not done. You’re still here. You’re still alive.”

The entire rim was still, silent. Everyone listened. And she reveled in that.

Because that was what all these dragons needed. They’d been thrown away. Hidden away. Left for dead. And they weren’t dead. They deserved this chance to come roaring back to life.

“So you’re Iolite’s allies now. She’s going to report that you’re still alive. No, you’re going to report you’re still alive, and she’s going to carry your message to the Dragon Empire. To the rest of Ironstone. To everyone, everywhere, you’re going to say, ‘Hey, guys, I’m down but not out. This is your chance to right a wrong. End Chrysotile’s rule. Bring me back, and I will do it for you. We are Ironstone too, and we ally with Iolite.’ We’ll take your message and broadcast it to the rest of Draconis.”

Silence.

Well, she had their attention, at least.

Nicole glanced back at Alex. He nodded to her very slightly, a proud nod that she had spoken wisely.

“I will do this,” Iolite said into the quiet.

Her promise broke the stillness. The murmurings increased until it was sheer pandemonium. Threads of conversations reached down to her ears. The dragons did want to return—especially to see family or to get revenge against whoever exiled them—but they all recognized that they were endangered so long as the sisters ruled.

Eventually, the elder regained control and addressed both Iolite and Nicole. “While we appreciate the opportunity to share that we are truly alive, this is not enough. First of all, the type of recording you describe is impossible. We—”

“What do you mean?” Nicole tapped her necklace, which had a clear window out her helmet. “I’m literally recording you right now.”

Shock wove through the crowd.

“It’s true,” Alex affirmed. “She has a recording device. All we need to do is connect your recordings to a Draconis satellite, which we will reach after we pass the warship.”

Chaos reigned.

They spent the next few hours organizing recordings. Even though things didn’t feel resolved—and the elders were definitely not satisfied—the exiles were all so eager to get a message out that Nicole’s promise of that mattered more than the long-standing mistrust all of them had for any relative of an Ironstone.

Each message was sweet and heartbreaking in its own way, from the eldest dragon speaking to the daughters and granddaughters she’d been forced to leave behind, to the male who tearfully hoped his wife had moved on and built a good, safe life far away from any dangers.

Nicole hoped their loved ones were still alive. A lot could happen in a year, much less ten of them.

Alex kept watch over Nicole, which was infinitely comforting. Iolite was gone for long periods conferencing with the elder and other important dragons. They cut short the recording before Nicole had personally interviewed everyone and reconvened in the crash site. She panned slowly over the crowd to make sure everyone was seen.

“We must go,” Iolite said to the elder. “Please remember my conditions.”

“Yes, of course. You will not leave Alexandrite behind.” The elder smiled slightly. “Very well. Alexandrite and Nicole will therefore convey the messages. You will remain with us as a guarantee.”

“We need Iolite to get past the warship,” Alex said.

“You’ll have to figure out a way around it.”

“No, you have to trust us.”

“Why in the world should we trust you?”

“Not trust like that. I don’t know if I can ever trust her again. But she’s the only one who can challenge Chrysotile.”

“You admit she betrayed you. Her own ally.”

“And normally, I would dedicate my life to vengeance, but I want justice for you. For the Ironstone family. I want to put this right. She is the one who will do that. Thanks to Nicole, I see.”

Nicole grinned. “Eyes on the prize.”

“Yes.”

“We need someone to guarantee your compliance.” The elder pointed a claw. “We will keep Nicole.”

Alex’s smile flattened. “Then you also keep me.”

“I won’t leave Alexandrite behind.” Iolite focused on him. “You may never trust me again, but please believe that I regret my momentary confusion. I delayed when I should have acted. It is always my way. Swift action can lead to regret, and I am now seeing with the vivid stories of hundreds that delay has also hurt many others.” Iolite gazed up at the exiles and refocused on Alex. “You are my brother, not by blood, but by choice. I will not delay and hurt you again.”

The elder motioned to Alex. “Reconsider, young male, that your mate is only a human, and in a dangerous time, it will be safer for her to be here.”

“She’s not my mate,” he snapped in a rare show of audible anger. He pulled Nicole tighter to his side. “And she’s not staying here.”

Nicole put her arm around Alex’s slender, hard waist even though he’d basically just shut down their relationship in public. They’d been working together kind of well for a few hours. She knew he wouldn’t just roll over and call her a mate. But it stung a little to have it shoved in her face, even though he followed it up by being super protective.

The elders conferenced.

“We must have some assurance our message will get out,” the elder insisted to Iolite. “And it is dangerous for one of us to leave if you have not revealed our existence. The warship could attack, and they will call your death an unfortunate accident.”

Iolite shook her head, firm.

“I’ll go,” Gypsum called.

The elder swung to her. “It will be very dangerous. If anyone catches you—”

“I might crumple up and die?” Her white lips twisted in mirth. “I’m not afraid.”

The elders convened once more and approved for Gypsum to go.

Sphene protested over the shock of the crowd. “Alexandrite failed to protect you before, Iolite betrayed you, and a human is useless! Change your mind right now. Stay.”

Gypsum rubbed their foreheads together. “I’m going to miss you.”

He kissed her. “Stay.”

She hugged him hard. Then she held his shoulders. “You know, in the pavilion, everyone said I was going to crumble at the first sign of adversity. Even you.”

“I was wrong.”

“And here I am carving a life out of a wasteland, wrestling monsters for my breakfast, proving over and over that I’m strong.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“You’re already strong, and let’s be honest, if I get caught, I can curl up in a ball and cry helplessly, and even Obsidian won’t know what to do with me. You he’d shoot on sight.”

“I’d shoot first.”

“Ha ha, be honest.” Gypsum floated down to the cavern floor, smiled at Nicole, and cocked her head at Iolite. “If you don’t take over and then come right back, I’m going to do it and then let Sphene finish the job of murdering Alexandrite.”

Iolite blinked. “Don’t threaten me.”

“Or else what? You’re going to be at a loss for words?” She skipped ahead of them.

“If Iolite doesn’t depose Chrysotile, someday soon Titanite will hang my skin in her trophy room,” Alex told his ex, carrying Nicole and flying after her with Iolite grimacing behind them.

Gypsum whirled, her joyous laughter infectious. “Is that a promise?”

“Sphene will have to desecrate a corpse.”

“Good, that saves us the trouble.” She shook her head, shared a sympathetic look with Nicole, and then smirked at Alex. “By the way, just because you won’t have dragonlets doesn’t mean someone isn’t your mate. One thing I’ve learned from living in exile is that some of the so-called rules are just crazy.”

Alex stiffened around Nicole. “She’s not my mate.”

“Uh-huh.”

“She’s not.”

Nicole put her hand on Alex’s arm. “Chill, okay? It’s a long trip home. Let’s all just peace out.”

He practically vibrated with tension, but he subsided, which she greatly appreciated because she did not want to deal with this on top of everything else right now.

Gypsum got in one last dig. “Say whatever makes you feel better, you cold, emotionless dragon, but don’t think that the rest of us can’t see the truth.”

Then she whirled away, and Nicole was left with a dangerously quiet Alex right before they were about to embark on a return journey that could end in Chrysotile’s claws, and being executed for treason.

* * *

Elder’s interview: You’re surprised that we survived. Yes, those of us who were topside when the mines collapsed did survive. Crocoite and Wulfenite left us to die. The ancient crash site was one of the last areas of stable ground, so we engineered the move of the old mining house onto that site. It was not easy. I doubt any dragon in the main family would be able to repeat our work. But we had a great desire not to die.

Gypsum’s interview: I was topside when the accident happened. Another couple of days and the thousands who died would have included me. They didn’t care and just pulled out, leaving the remainder to die. By they, I mean the dragons who oversaw us directly, Crocoite and Wulfenite, the worst dragons who’ve ever lived, ever.

But we didn’t die. Not even me.

Not when we had to move the old mine house. Not when we had to scavenge in the ruins for supplies. Not even when we had to hunt parasites to eat.

Hi, Mother and Father. Look at me! Your fragile girl survived.

Sphene’s interview: Mother, Father, Brother—if you’re still alive—I asked myself all the time how you let it happen to me, why you didn’t rescue me, especially since I was here the whole time. But then I found out you thought I was dead, so, I forgive you for that. But if you still leave me here to die, even after Nicole tells you about me, then I’m going to take it as an insult. So you know.

Titanite, I thought you were cool, but you literally knew what happened and didn’t care. You’re not the female I thought you were.

This is my female now. Yep. Gypsum. We have a pretty cool lair. She wrestles millipedes for a living. We have ten dragonlets.

We do not.

We will soon.

Ha ha. I’m just saying come on down, check it out. Oh, yeah, and give my warning to Chrysotile and everybody loyal to her. I’ve been hacking the ruins, collecting all the records, and I’ve got the details. Send the ship, and it goes out. Dark secrets that would make even an Empress shudder.

Oh, and Alexandrite, if you’re watching this, watch your back. One of these days, I’m going to sneak up on you, and you are going to die.

Just kidding.

Or am I?

Alex left Nicole in their room and Gypsum in a larger guest room. He watched their departure with Iolite as their ship blasted off the planet and approached the patrolling warship.

The warship hailed them as they’d expected. Iolite fielded the call with every inch of imperiousness.

“We must inspect your vessel for unauthorized passengers.” The warship commander had the good sense to look uneasy while making the demand.

“You will not touch my ship.” Iolite lifted her snout. “And if you dare to stop me again, I will rip every last one of you to shreds.”

“It’s for your own safety, future matriarch. The mines are infested with parasites. Their millipedes have a nasty bite.”

“You think I would have been so stupid as to have brought a parasite aboard my ship?”

“No, of course not. But we must make sure—”

“Absolutely not. I am ending this communication.”

“Obsidian—”

“I told you that I do not take orders from Obsidian.”

“But Obsidian is operating under the orders of Crocoite herself.”

“I do not take orders from my aunt either. If she wishes to challenge me to teeth-to-claw combat, she knows how to get in touch.” She cut the feed on the protesting warship commander and increased the ship’s speed.

Everyone braced.

But nothing happened. The warship let them go.

Alex focused on Iolite. Anything to avoid returning to the room where Nicole was editing the video alone. “What is the next emergency?”

“We have some hours before reaching your mother’s estate, and I will spend them plotting.” Iolite settled on her silver bench in pensive dragon form. “Thinking through every contingency of a coup will take some hours. You may go, Alexandrite.”

“I can help you think.”

She eyed him. “Since when have we shared plans?”

His stomach dropped. He’d spent too much time with Nicole. Alex bowed out. “I will leave you.”

“Indeed.” Iolite closed her dragon eyes and meditated. She had as much strategy experience as Flint, but she was much less cocky about it.

They didn’t dare contact his brother. They didn’t dare contact anyone. They flew straight for the one place Alex was sure of finding allies: Onyx Estates on the Outer Rim.

His next stop was to check on Gypsum. “Are you recovering?”

Gypsum managed to crack an eye at him from her warm sand bath and smirked. “Avoiding the female that is absolutely not your mate by checking on me? How like you, Alexandrite. After all these years, you haven’t changed.”

He smiled coldly. “I just felt responsible for seeing to a guest.”

She laughed. No longer a ghost in his mind, she’d matured into a new female, one who carried a sharp glint in her formerly doe-soft eyes. “Sure you did. You better rest up too, if you’re going to run from yourself so hard.”

“I’m not…” The protest died on his lips. Who was he to justify himself to another dragon? He floated back from her room and flew mindlessly around the luxury ship, fabricating busy work.

Nicole didn’t seem to even notice he was gone. Every time he glanced in the room, she hunched over the editing suite, manipulating the footage of the interviews.

His heart thudded. His mouth went dry. He needed her, loved her, wanted to help her.

She’s not my mate.

Not my mate.

She’s not my mate.

He jerked away from the doorway and silently repeated the mantra as he wandered the too-small luxury cruiser. Memories battled his insistence, and feelings contradicted his mind. The terror he’d felt seeing Nicole enter the Triple Crown Celebration; the intense unstoppable craving he’d felt to possess her, mark her, claim her; the contentment and peace he felt in her presence and the unsettled unease he felt outside it… No. Those were just sensations of friendship. His first adult relationship. His first physical relationship since Gypsum.

Someday, Nicole would demand too much of him. Or he would tire of her. They would both move on.

She didn’t believe in mates. She didn’t believe in true love. He didn’t either.

The odd squeezing sensation—like he couldn’t draw in a full breath when he thought of losing her forever—was just the attachment issues she’d casually mentioned in front of the Colony survivors. It meant nothing. He’d freeze it out and easily get over it.

Say whatever makes you feel better, you cold, emotionless dragon, but don’t think that the rest of us can’t see the truth.

The stabbing nervous energy that forced him to lean in and check on her meant nothing.

Iolite called out to him while he flew sightlessly past her doorway. “Alexandrite, I need you.”

He paused in the doorway. Iolite had transformed back to human during her planning session and thrown on a robe. Trust could return, but it would never be the same childish trust. “What do you need?”

“The Carnelians prepared to splinter to Adamantine. I must convince them it is in their interest to remain allied with Ironstone. But how to do so eludes me.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. As a human, she looked both more approachable and more troubled than ever before. She dropped her hand. “I must speak to your human once more.”

He stiffened. “She’s not my human.”

“Your female, I mean.” Iolite rubbed her palms on her white-cloaked thighs. “She has a way of drawing out the truth that I find troubling, irritating, and also…badly needed.”

He stepped back. “I will request her presence. But she is not my female.”

“Yes, apologies. I’m speaking without consideration.” She smiled tiredly. “Another symptom of spending time with your—with the Earth female.”

He withdrew. Trouble beat in his chest.

She was not his female. Not his mate. Not his.

He had to protect her.

He flew into their room.

Nicole stretched and yawned. “Oh, Alex. Are we there yet?”

“No, Iolite requests your presence.” He went to her, stopped himself from dropping his arms around her, and stepped back, keeping cool space between them. “Are you finished?”

“With the rough cut, yeah. You could broadcast this anywhere, any time. Iolite said something about saving it up for dramatic impact, so I guess she has a plan.” Nicole rubbed her red eyes. “I’m exhausted.”

“I will tell Iolite you need your rest.”

“Oh, it’s okay. I can talk with her real fast.” Her stomach rumbled, and she pressed her hand to her belly with an awkward laugh. “Maybe over dinner. Or breakfast. For whatever time zone we’re in.”

“Time zones have no meaning off-planet.” He filled a cup with much-needed nutrients and handed it to her. It took all his will not to draw her into his arms, rub away her aches, and tidy her disheveled hair.

Her delicate fingers brushed over his as she closed over the big cup. “Thanks.”

He pulled back his hand, left her clothing wrinkled, and then gripped her elbow to lift her into the air. He flew them with the least amount of contact toward Iolite’s chamber. “You can rest whenever you need.”

“Don’t worry about me. These interviews are so heartbreaking, but I’m really glad I could take part in it.” Her dark eyes brightened with determination as they flew. “Nothing infuriates me more than being ignored, except maybe being gaslit.”

She took a big gulp of the protein in her other hand.

“You hate that,” he murmured.

“Mm. So, there’s really nothing better in life than publicly humiliating the liars and exposing the truth. It’s like all the crap I went through in my life trained me to be ready for this bright, shining moment.”

“What bright, shining moment?” he asked, letting her off just inside Iolite’s chamber and preparing to withdraw.

“The moment where we publicize these videos and then take Chrysotile down together,” she said proudly.

His heart froze in his chest.

Iolite’s gaze lasered into him. Her expression told him what he already knew.

If Nicole faced Chrysotile again, she would die.

His heart thudded once. Twice. Three times.

Each one was a mini agony.

He backed out of the chamber to allow their private conversation. The utterly horrible realization pounded into him.

Nicole was his mate.

He could say whatever he wanted to deny it, but even virtual strangers like Gypsum could see. Which meant his vulnerability was exposed.

Exposed to Chrysotile.

Exposed to Titanite.

He flew unsteadily back to his chambers and landed on the silver bench in a heap.

It was over. Ended. Never again.

He would never let what happened to Gypsum happen to Nicole.

If it was to save her, then he would refuse this truth.

He had no mate.

* * *

“You wanted to see me?” Nicole asked Iolite with a big yawn.

Iolite was making some imperious expression at Alex behind Nicole.

Nicole turned around.

Alex swiftly zoomed out before Nicole could even say goodbye.

Her stomach rolled.

He was having a moody voyage, but maybe that was normal when your formerly dead first love came back to life, the dragon you got exiled tried to kill you, and your emotionally supportive not-girlfriend was too busy to lend a sympathetic ear.

Sure.

That was all.

She’d check in with him after this conversation.

Everything was probably fine.

“Yes.” Iolite studied her intently. Not like a worm as she’d first looked at Nicole, but with deep, abiding curiosity. “You are so small. Weak. Helpless. Does that never bother you?”

“Not since I outgrew my mom threatening to turn me in to CPS if I didn’t do what she wanted.” Nicole hopped up on the silver bench and sat cross-legged. “I had a lot to work through in therapy, I tell you.”

“Where you tell another human all your secrets.” Iolite frowned. “Does practicing that give you the unwarranted confidence to speak out in front of deadly female dragons who have the means and desire to kill you?”

“I thought we were friends.”

“Not me, obviously. All the other claws-out females you’ve stepped in front of in the short time period I’ve known you.”

Nicole shrugged and slurped her filling drink. “Sure, talking about my problems helped me to open up, but I wasn’t raised in a household ruled by a murderous all-powerful psychopath, so I have different survival skills. Is that what you’re asking? I’m not upset that you didn’t speak up about the dragonlet, especially since you knew she was probably baiting you specifically by repeating what she did to your sister.”

Iolite pursed her lips. “I do not ask for your understanding, but yes, losing Schorl and Emery would only have increased my desire to reduce Chrysotile to inflammable powder. And yet, even now, I have a doubt.”

“A doubt? About your strategy? I don’t think I could help.”

“Not about the strategy. About my ability to lead.”

“You did great at the abandoned mine,” Nicole assured her. “You had this glowy moment where you looked like a real matriarch.”

Iolite blinked as if once again Nicole had said something unexpected. She hadn’t asked that. Nicole totally wasn’t helping.

Right.

Nicole set aside her drink and stretched out, wiggled her fingers. “Okay, keep in mind, I’m one hundred percent not a licensed professional, and you’ll get a way better experience talking to one. Since there’s only me, I’m going to do my best. Lay it on me. What’s your doubt?”

Iolite twisted her lips to the side. She seemed to be holding her breath. Then, all in a rush, she confessed. “What if…what if I am no better a matriarch?”

Nicole laughed. “Is that really a concern? Chrysotile set the bar pretty low.”

“I’m frightened of what I may have to become to ensure the peace.”

“You’re not going to hunt endangered species, destroy planets, or execute baby dragons, right?”

“No, but…”

“You’re not going to look the other way while future nieces threaten to murder all your heirs, right?”

“Actually, Chrysotile’s insistence on limiting heirs is logical. The current unrest in the Empire could have been avoided if Empress Horribus had limited herself to one or two. And in Ironstone, only a generation before her, the family underwent great distress. Factional warfare. Her mother was the last of six females to take the throne from each other by force. By having only myself and Titanite, the family unites behind her.”

“Would you honestly murder your nieces and nephews to reduce your heirs?”

“No.”

“And would you enslave dissidents in planet-destroying mines just to climb up a couple ranks?”

She hesitated. “No…”

“Then won’t you be better? I don’t agree with every president who gets voted into office, but after four to eight years we have a new choice.”

“Our leaders rule for their lifetimes.”

“You could change that. You could do anything. You could listen. That’s all different from Chrysotile.”

“But if we have a successor war, the family weakens. If a new Empress already ruled, Crocoite wouldn’t dare invade Earth.”

“Go somewhere in between. Honestly, so long as you don’t appoint a psycho, you’re probably going to leave a better legacy for Mica.”

Iolite licked her lips. “There is another problem. I cannot hold.”

“Hold?”

“Everyone thinks I’m an archivist. I am. Chrysotile is dangerous and unpredictable, and that uncertainty has driven me to seek reason, but it drives others to blindly obey. I can’t order those who won’t see reason.”

“Why not become her?”

Iolite jutted her chin. “Be who?”

“Chrysotile.”

She blinked rapidly. “You want me to become dangerous and unpredictable?”

“Fake it. Do some sort of crazy expression. Make the threat until you figure out another way.”

She looked horrified. “You want me to crush their children or send their spouses into exile for no reason?”

“No, no, no. You don’t have to become Chrysotile. Her scariness is so fresh, all you have to do is pretend. Channel her crazy. Her ‘Do you really want to go there?’ expression. Because if someone, say, Titanite kidnaps Alex to challenge your authority, what are you going to do?”

Iolite’s eyes turned from purple to opaque gray, and her voice turned to a deadly monotone. “Crush her and everyone associated with her.”

Okay. “So, uh, there you go. That’s not completely different from Chrysotile.”

“But that’s not faking. I really will do that if she crosses me.”

“Sure. Just put the same energy into anyone who challenges your authority, kidnapping not required.”

“I would only do this after they truly cross me. Not for an incidental like wearing the same color of bathrobe.”

“I’m sure that’s an improvement, trust me.”

“I do.” Iolite’s eyes turned purple again. She was a massive powerful dragon, a future matriarch who could command the destiny of hundreds, who could potentially rule over Earth, and in this exact moment, she completely trusted in Nicole.

“So, uh, let’s practice.” Nicole couldn’t let all that trust be in vain, no matter how tired she was. “Say I’m a dragon who’s crossed you. Instead of doing what you ordered, I undermined you and…?”

“Attempted to murder my husband and dragonlet,” she filled in. “Which would make me very cross.”

Nicole coughed. “Whoa. Okay. So, you catch me, and I tell you I’m, uh, going to try again.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “That is the problem.”

“Right, and you say…?”

“Don’t. It’s only going to slow down the process of making better laws.”

“Hm. So that doesn’t affect me at all because I’m unreasonable.”

Iolite sucked in a deep breath and frowned at her fingertips. “Yes, that’s exactly the problem. I don’t know how to resolve this.”

“So assumedly, matriarchs have to deal with this all the time. What would Chrysotile say?”

Iolite lifted her head. Her eyes slowly widened, turned opaque gray. She dropped her voice to an unsettling whisper and put a slight, off-kilter smile in her breath. “Come closer and tell me that again.”

“Ooh, I’m getting chills.” Nicole rubbed her goose-bumpy arms. “That’s great. Seriously. But let’s just imagine. I am pretty stupid, so I actually do come closer, because I haven’t gotten it yet.”

Iolite flew in her face. Teeth ghosted over Nicole’s throat. “I’m going to crush you, tear your skin off, and eat your bones, insolent human!”

Nicole froze, heart pounding.

Iolite resumed her seat and crossed her legs with a mild frown. “How was that?”

Nicole thumped her chest. She croaked. “I think I’m having a heart attack.”

Iolite tilted her head. “You don’t look like it. Do you require medical assistance?”

“Just give me a minute.” Panicked laughter erupted from her chest, and the adrenal spike settled into shakes and a need to wriggle her arms and legs. “Oh yeah. That’s it. You’re doing her. That’s perfect.”

Nicole did her best to keep her spirits up while she coached the dragon on how to be scary.

She felt useful, and forgot about the tension with Alex for a bit, and that was nice.

Iolite studied her fingers sadly. “It is easier to access this anger than I realized.”

“Can I recommend therapy?”

Iolite dropped her hands into her lap. “No. I will use this power as infrequently as I must. I don’t like the idea of having unreasonableness within me.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like existing in the same world as idiots and jerks, but we don’t get to choose the world. We can only choose how we react.”

“I don’t know if I can react like this when I need to. My instinct is to freeze.”

“So you practice.”

“I also don’t like anyone thinking I am as unreasonable as Chrysotile.”

“Better for you to frighten them with your crazy face than to have to carry out your threat. If you really only show it to dragons who threaten your safety, that’s way better than Chrysotile, and you’re helping everyone.”

She tilted your head. “You advise lying, Nicole?”

“This isn’t lying. You’re setting boundaries you mean to keep. If anyone actually hurt Mica, what would you do?”

Her eyes went opaque again. “Destroy them.”

“Ooh, chills again. You can make credible threats in your voice too. That’s scary right there. Maybe have three levels of scary—normal scary, Chrysotile scary, and then you-about-to-execute-a-criminal scary. But your Chrysotile impression is also great.”

Iolite looked worried but also relieved, which was kind of how Nicole felt after a lot of therapy sessions.

The future matriarch called for Alex to return Nicole to their chambers.

He didn’t answer.

Iolite looked pensive but said nothing when she conveyed Nicole to the room.

He wasn’t there, of course.

Nicole puttered around for a bit before exhaustion overwhelmed her nerves. She snuggled into the blanket bed alone and crashed to sleep.

Alex wasn’t there when she woke up.

Everything was fine.

He was busy.

They were planning a coup, for goodness’ sake.

This was normal.

Nicole chanted this mantra as she ate her nutrients alone. She finished, reviewed her video, and made a few more changes.

Then, with nothing else to do, she lay down for another nap.

But it was a lot harder to sleep, and worries swirled.

What if—

“Nicole.”

She startled awake.

Alex’s worried face hovered over her.

His open expression slammed closed. He straightened and helped her up. “We’ve arrived at Mother’s estate in the Outer Rim. Neither she nor Flint are present; however, you will see my sister and Darcy.”

Her heart leaped. “Right now?”

“Now.”

She’d been wearing the same clothes for the last few days, and he didn’t make any adjustments to her outfit or hair. She followed him around, her excitement fighting with unease. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” He avoided her gaze and took her elbow.

She leaned into him. “Alex.”

He leaned back and lifted her. “Soon, you’ll see Darcy.”

Okay.

She talked to herself while Alex navigated through the ship. It was oddly quiet, and she didn’t see a sign of Gypsum or Iolite.

They’d been through a lot in a short time. With all the stress, it was normal to get anxious or snappish. Heck, they hardly knew each other. Maybe this was normal during downtimes for Alex.

He dropped out of the bottom exit of the spaceship.

Her stomach lifted with roller-coaster weightlessness as the unusual red desert of the planet stretched out before her. The giant black castle of the Onyx Estate gleamed in the dual suns. Her skin warmed in the thin airy breeze. It smelled like sulfur and cilantro, which was just really weird, and also heavy, like the humidity of an evaporated sea.

Alex landed in the middle of the courtyard between a crenelated front gate and an inner stacked-rock castle.

“This actually looks like a castle,” she said.

“The Outer Rim was very slightly informed by Middle Ages construction,” he conceded, releasing her on the hard ground and stepping back.

She looked around for her brother and sister-in-law, and also everyone else.

“Nicole.” His tone was low and formal.

Her stomach squeezed.

He was breaking up with her.

She whirled. “Don’t you dare.”

“Thank you for your emotional support during this difficult time.”

“No. You don’t get to say that.”

“I’m doing nothing but thanking you.” Alex’s expression frosted over. He looked even more untouchable than the first time he’d walked into her coffee shop, simmering with rage. Now he’d conquered that rage with her help, and only frost remained. “Amber will return you to Earth once the route is reopened and it is safe.”

“Well, thanks, but you’re not going to stand there and tell me you’re done, you don’t need me, and you’re never going to see me again.”

His blank face was impassive. “I’m sorry, Nicole.”

The only thing more infuriating than having a stupid argument was having a stupid argument where she was the only one getting upset. “I get that I’m a small, weak human in comparison to you big, dangerous dragons, but I’ve helped a lot on this trip. Even Iolite said so. Which means—”

“Iolite is diplomatic.”

Her gut tightened.

She’d been intending to say, Which means you should listen to me when I tell you to get real therapy, but now he was just pissing her off. “Not that diplomatic.”

“Yes.”

“Alex—”

“Yes, Nicole, Iolite is too diplomatic, because if she were blunt and honest the way you say you like, then she would tell you that all of your uneducated interjections made our work harder. We got through in spite of you, not because of you, and that’s why I’m leaving you here. We can’t have another distraction during the most critical part of our trip.”

Her chest shook.

How dare he?

How dare he?

“No,” she said.

“Yes, Iolite is overly cautious with her words.”

“No, you don’t get to do this. If you’re having regrets or feeling trapped by me, you say so. You don’t dig into our shared experience and manipulate it into lies.”

He looked away.

She held up an index finger. “Did I scare you? When you said I might be your person and I said I hope so, did that set off your alarms? Or was it how fast everything changed from you being the ice dragon to having someone like me, who you said was too vulnerable, always depending on you?”

“You weight me down,” he told the skyline, noncommittal.

“No,” she insisted. “You know I hate that. Stop it!”

“Stop what?” He looked her straight in the eye, cold as ice, solid as a cut gemstone. “I told you at the beginning what I am. I have always said exactly what I needed to get you to do what I want. You’re the one who thought it meant something. Did you think you reached me? Did you think I was broken and could be healed?” He sneered. “Did you think I would ever let in someone like you?”

Her throat closed. Her lower lip trembled uncontrollably. She hated that she knew this was going to happen. She’d known it and now…now… “You don’t have to do it in the cruelest way possible.”

“Sorry.” He didn’t look sorry.

“You could just say, ‘Thanks for your help. I’ll see you around.’” She hugged herself and swallowed the lump in her throat, sniffled the burning behind her eyes. “I’d get the picture.”

“Well, I’d thank you for your help and all, but I promised not to lie.”

Her chest caved.

He stared at her for a long, cold moment as if to ensure she understood, and then he rocketed into the red sky, back onto the ship, and in a short time, it also disappeared above the red mist, leaving her all alone on the courtyard rock.

* * *

This was for the best. This was for the best.

Nicole’s tortured face tormented Alex.

He snapped his eyes open.

This was for the best.

He tumbled off the bare bench. The blankets he’d shared with Nicole—her sweet face turning up as she gazed at him with loving trust—piled around the foot. He flew from his room where he could almost, but not quite, still smell her sweet feminine fragrance.

Iolite looked up in greeting. Dark rings hollowed her human-form eyes. She’d not been sleeping much since they’d dropped Nicole off at his biological family’s estate and continued on alone. “You look unwell, Alexandrite. Your hair is askew.”

He brushed down his hair in confusion. When was the last time he’d checked? “I heard the proximity warning.”

“Yes, we’ve arrived.” She perused the control panel. “It’s odd. Beryl Carnelian is the only one we can hail, and he will only meet us at the edge of Colony space? We are going backward. And I had heard that Ferocia Carnelian is still within the Outer Rim. We passed by so closely, and yet she refused our hails.”

“We’ll soon know the answer.” Alex watched on the screen as the ships connected. “Where’s the video feed?”

“It is broken, as is the audio.”

He felt unsettled, uneasy, and most of all, uncertain. Something was wrong.

But he had felt the same feeling ever since leaving Nicole.

He was wrong. She’d called him out.

You could just say, “Thanks for your help. I’ll see you around.”

But he couldn’t, because his brain had been churning with panic. Confusion. Denial.

His mouth was telling her to detach, go away, stop seeing him so clearly. Protect herself. He would make her shield herself, cover her vulnerable core, hide away that beautiful, open, shining heart, even if he had to lance it with his own black tongue.

And that was wrong. He’d been wrong.

He’d been so focused on pushing her away, on teaching her a lesson, that he’d flubbed their farewell. He wasn’t a perfect dragon. He was so very horribly imperfect, especially when it counted.

She made him better.

He’d tried to break her to prove that he could make it on his own. He didn’t need her. Didn’t need his mate.

And all he’d proved was that he was stupider and more vulnerable.

Iolite eyed him. “I assume you are not sleeping because you’ve been making preparations.”

“Preparations for what?”

“It’s occurred to you, as it long ago did to me, that this is a trap.”

“What?”

The ship shuddered. White light tore into his retinas.

He blacked out.

When he awoke, someone was crying on the floor of a foreign spaceship. Sobbing, actually. Heartfelt, horrible, gut-wrenching sobs of fluttery agony.

It was Gypsum in human form. “Please, Obsidian. You c-c-can’t send me b-b-back there. I b-b-barely survived. Have pity on me. Please!”

“I, uh, have my orders…” Titanite’s older brother, Obsidian, also in human form and wearing a well-fitted black uniform and boots, stared down at the helpless puddle of pure white with dismay. His glassy black eyes look chipped.

Alex started to sit up. His arms were bound behind his back, and he couldn’t shift out of human form.

Obsidian saw the movement. Relief cascaded over his sharp face. “You, there. Alexandrite. My sister demands your claw in marriage, and your mother Charoite has agreed to the match. You are hereby recalled to marry my sister.”

His head ached. “Where’s Iolite?”

Obsidian hardened. “That’s not your concern.”

“Sh-sh-she escaped without us,” Gypsum howled.

“She escaped?” He rolled up to a sitting position and cocked a brow at Obsidian. “You let her escape?”

“She’s a female dragon and a future matriarch,” he returned, rattled. “She commandeered my luxurious personal vessel. What am I going to do to stop her? Engage in mortal combat?”

He calculated. “So this is Beryl Carnelian’s ship. Where’s he?”

“Who knows?” Obsidian floated over the still-sobbing Gypsum to glare in Alex’s face. “Do you think I’m the favorite? No. I’m exiled to a family warship patrolling over a used-up planet full of used-up dragons. At least out here, nobody asks questions.”

“If you know about them, why not help?” Alex asked. “Why don’t you do something?”

“You mean join Iolite in what is obviously going to be a short, painful, bloody revolution where she’s crushed and loses, and my sister becomes the new heir?”

“Maybe that wouldn’t happen if you supported us.”

“It’s like you didn’t hear anything I just said.” Obsidian crossed his boots. He’d always been lazy and sociopathic. “Out here, nobody bothers me. And so as soon I get back to the warship, I’m programming this ship to send the both of you straight back to Titanite.”

Gypsum sobbed louder.

His guts churned.

At least Nicole wasn’t here to be caught up in this. She was safe on his mother’s estate.

But there had to be something he could do. Something he was missing.

Something that if Nicole were here, she’d point out or change. Because she saw things. Not just inside, but she’d navigated out of more than one fraught conversation and turned multiple enemies into friends, including those that both he and Iolite would never have considered possible.

“Please!” Gypsum screamed. “Obsidian!”

He rolled his eyes. “For the love of my valuable eardrums, stop that vocal assault, or I vow to you, I will personally return you to the planet’s surface to die.”

Gypsum threw her head back, cracking it against the metal with a dull bong. She did it again. And again. The floor started denting.

“Stop,” he demanded. “This is worse. We are almost at the warship, and I am taking you aboard. Stop!”

From her contorted position, Gypsum tilted her tearstained cheeks at Alex. A small smile curved her shrieking lips. A mature glint twinkled in her watery eyes.

“Nooo,” she howled. “Anything but the warship! Don’t send me back to the planet. Pleeeease!”

Alex had the uncertain pleasure of watching his ex play Obsidian like a glass flute. He hauled her off the ship while she writhed. And, ooh, she had no restraints.

Obsidian must have come upon her in human form collapsed, crying helplessly, and treated her as the fragile pure Gypsum of the past. He’d forgotten utterly that she was a fully realized female dragon with claws, fangs, and fire.

Which meant she might stop the program before Beryl’s small ship decoupled from the warship and—

“Decouple complete,” the ship intoned, killing that hope. “Preprogrammed destination engaged. Please relax. You will arrive at Inferno in forty-two Draconian units.”

Gypsum might be overpowering Obsidian right now, but it was too late to stop his ship.

Alex was about to have to face his oldest nemesis.

Titanite would try to torture him.

He’d brought this on himself.

If he hadn’t mistaken Iolite’s betrayal for Titanite’s, he never would have provoked her.

Titanite would still hate him, sure, but no more than she hated any other rare male dragon who crossed her path.

Because he’d made a mistake. He’d obsessed over vengeance when he should have focused on the truth. On growth. On change.

Maybe then he would have looked outside his assumptions and realized she could never be the culprit. He’d confessed his relationship to Iolite, no one else, and he’d been careful because he and Gypsum had both known at least on the surface what was at risk.

The same way he should have looked outside his own terror at realizing Nicole was his mate.

Then maybe he could have learned, grown, changed.

Prepared for this fight or avoided it altogether.

If he got a second chance, he would not waste it.

He swore it.

Nicole stared out the window across the red desert of the Outer Rim planet.

How many days had it been since Alex had left? She’d lost count. All she’d done was sleep and eat and sleep again.

This was depressing.

She was depressed.

Over a man. How cliché. Yet another reason to torture herself.

Darcy’s voice crackled again over the intercom next to her fluffy four-poster bed. “Hey, Nicole? I’ve got Eggos for breakfast. Or Pop-Tarts. Amber says she’s got those premade freezer sandwiches, the peanut butter and raspberry Uncrustables. What are you in the mood for?”

Nicole pulled herself out of bed with a groan. “How about black coffee with a side of self-loathing?”

“I can get you the coffee. Self-loathing, well, I kind of hope we’re out of stock.”

“Cool.” She pulled herself up the foot post until she was fully standing, barefoot, on the warm polished stone. “I’ll bring my own.”

The intercom was silent. Darcy had gone to work preparing her breakfast.

She felt guilty about that too while she dragged herself in and out of the shower, spent way too long drying off and pulling on whatever clothes came out of her closet—red, apparently—and moped on down to the family breakfast bar. Which was, according to the weirdness of this castle, a semi-recent addition to the traditional cathedral ceilings and oversized halls sparsely arranged warehouse-style, with the occasional silver bench.

Alex’s mom had apparently had an entire addition built on that was human sized to welcome her first daughter-in-law, Cheryl.

“She’s due in today, Nicole,” her older brother Darcy told her when she dragged herself into the kitchen. His plate was clean, and Amber was working through what appeared to be her second package of Uncrustables, if the mountain of wrappers around her were any indication. The petite redhead could really pack it in. “Amber’s mom, I mean. Prepare yourself. The first thing she’s going to ask is whether you’re pregnant.”

“Carrying her dragonlet,” Amber corrected, unwrapping another sandwich. “And I don’t know if she’ll do that to Nicole since she isn’t dating or married to one of my brothers.”

Nicole’s chest squeezed.

“I’ll hold out hope.” Darcy hugged Nicole’s shoulders gently.

He’d not asked a single question about anything after the initial surprised greeting in a where-the-heck-did-you-come-from exclamation. For finding his youngest sister literally dropped from the sky onto this alien planet with no real indication of how she’d arrived beyond her choked sobs and moping depression, he’d been his usual upbeat, kind, noninvasive self.

He let her go and returned to the cabinets. “Cornflakes? I found some with Tony the Tiger.”

“That’s Frosted Flakes.”

“You got me.” He bustled for a bowl, the milk, and the sugary breakfast cereal.

She settled into it with a sigh. “This is way better than protein paste.”

Amber glanced at Darcy. They both were silent while she was eating, and it took her most of the bowl to realize that they were literally still trying to pick up clues about why and how she’d gotten there.

But thinking about it just made a huge weight on her mind. It had been years since she’d gotten this bad, and she kind of hated Alex for knocking her down like this when her therapist was blocked behind some sort of interference. Emailing a session just wasn’t the same.

She tried to push herself a little more. “So, this is what an Earth-furnished dragon mansion should be.”

Darcy turned around the seat at the end of the table and sat in it backward. “Yep. The dragons have been sending stuff home since they arrived. Cheryl and Amy started arranging it, and now it’s our turn.”

Amber nodded.

“There’s not much else to do while Amber’s mother is gone, and Amber has to spend all day in meetings or patrolling to keep the estate from pirates or the adviser in the area, who’s trying to increase the size of her own holdings.”

“It’s actually kind of comfy,” Nicole said, aware of how flat and weak her voice sounded in comparison to his enthusiasm.

“Assuming everything turns out okay, they choose a new Empress, and she returns law and order to the Empire, then you could stay here as long as you want. Pursue video-editing gigs or your YouTube channel.”

That was something she hadn’t checked in forever. “Yeah, maybe.”

Out the window, she noticed her mother roaming the halls like a peach ghost. A dragon watched over her in the courtyard.

Nicole jerked away. “How can you stand it?”

“She’s not well. But we don’t interact.” Darcy had compassion, but also boundaries.

“You can’t be comfortable with this arrangement.”

“I’m not convinced the mental health resources she’d get at home are significantly better. Here, she can’t hurt anyone.”

“Except you.”

“No, not even me.” He smiled sadly. “I also feel like I let her get sicker and sicker. You bore the brunt, and nobody listened. I ignored things. That’s on me. It’s my turn to help her if she chooses to get well.”

Nicole stared out at the woman she could become if she too totally lost her way. The heaviness she’d felt since Alex had taken off pressed down on her chest. “If she’s too sick to reach for the life buoy, is it really her choice?”

“That’s a fair point. For right now, she’s fine with floating.”

Nicole watched. Their mother shuffled to a small rock garden and used a rake to draw a line design. A long-dead memory was knocked loose from Nicole’s mind. Her mother in the garden, dictating orders to the kids to plant, weed, fertilize, trim while her dad fed the fish in the koi pond he’d stocked himself.

Their koi had died long before high school.

“You don’t have to interact, Nicole. You went through the most, and I respect what you need for your mental healing.” He glanced at his wife. “That goes for us too. I keep pushing you to eat with us, and we’re curious as heck about what happened, but we both respect you.”

“Although you could tell us why you were dropped off by the Silverin family vessel,” Amber said. “How did you even know Silverin? He’s never left the hell planet.”

Darcy patted Amber’s hand. “When you’re ready.”

“I suppose I should tell someone.” The words felt dragged from her lips. She rubbed her temples. “Where’s that coffee?”

“I have just the thing.” Amber got up and pulled her a shot, then carried it to her seat. “Dragons love this. You’ll never have it again.”

Nicole swallowed it, and her brain registered what she was drinking a second later. She lowered the cup. “Are you serious? How many bags of this dumpster fire coffee are out there?”

“Dumpster fire coffee?” Darcy repeated.

“This is the last one,” Amber assured her, ignoring the dumpster part. “I took it off a visitor from the Gentleman’s Society when he made the mistake of interrupting my patrol without warning. He was very surprised to see me.”

Nicole started laughing. “We told… We convinced Chrysotile… I fed it to Iolite’s whole family, like her whole family, and yet we managed to convince Chrysotile that we had the last bag and she was the only one in the entire Dragon Empire who could drink it. Ha ha. Ha ha ha!”

“Chrysotile Ironstone?” Amber repeated, amazement blazing across her expression. “You saw the main branch matriarch? Are you okay? She’s not altogether safe. Or, in my opinion, sane.”

Nicole shook her head, laughing so hard, she was gasping. She pounded her palms on the flat table, splashing the espresso, and then tears formed in her eyes, and she was suddenly crying, unable to catch her breath, wracked with sobs.

Darcy dove in and enfolded her in a warm, comforting, safe big-brother hug. “It’s okay. We’ve got you. We got you.”

“I’m okay,” she promised, hiccupping. “It’s just that I’ve got a big, open heart. And that’s okay.”

“That’s absolutely okay,” Darcy said, and Amber nodded emphatically.

In fits and starts, the whole story poured out, from Nicole solving the mystery of the missing coffee to Nicole saving the universe with Alex. Everything up until she’d been dumped, in every sense of the word, here.

Her brother and sister-in-law listened, alternating between shock and horror and total amazement, and sometimes mixing all three emotions in the same expression.

“And here I thought getting drugged and held hostage was the limit of bad news that could befall a person.” Darcy leaned back in his seat when she was all done. “What the heck, Nicole? You’ve been on the run from a sociopath and trying to save the Earth single-handedly for how many days?”

His warmth melted some more of the ice dam floating around her heart. “It was a lot to deal with.”

“You’re a miracle worker. An honest-to-goodness world-class savior.”

“Nicole Teresa, huh?” She sniffled and then sighed. It was a relief to get it all out, even though it didn’t change anything. “Too bad Alex didn’t agree.”

“I want to see the videos,” Amber said. “Did you give them all to Iolite or do you still have a copy?”

“I’m not lying.”

“Huh?”

“Oh.” Nicole shook herself. Obviously neither Darcy nor Amber doubted her. They were legitimately interested in watching the footage. She just had a complex from Alex using such hurtful words on her. “Sure. Yeah. I kept a copy. I thought I might upload them to YouTube.”

“Good idea.” Darcy collected her dishes and cleaned up the now-old spill. “I know Tara was watching. She asked a while ago if you were okay, because the uploads stopped.”

“She was actually watching?”

“Yeah, and her husband. Jackie too. I asked why she didn’t just text you, but she said she didn’t know if you’d want her to.”

Nicole had to go and find her phone in her bedroom. “I’ll text her.”

But she took another few moments at the table just soaking in all that had happened since she’d left Earth. Even before then. Everything intense had happened to her since Alex had tumbled into her life. He’d given her already chaotic life extraordinary color and intensity. They’d spent all their time together flying, running, hiding, speaking out. Sure, she’d been homeless and unemployed before she’d met him, but he’d made the state much more exciting.

And the sex…

She regretted a lot of things about opening herself to him, but the sex wasn’t one of them. That was a memory she’d carry to her grave. She’d be old and classy, in a feather boa smoking one of those long tube cigarettes like a Hollywood beauty even though she didn’t smoke, reminiscing to Darcy’s grandchildren about the most perfect, amazing sex of her life, and they’d all be screaming and covering their ears and shouting, “Great-Aunt Nicole, ew!”

She chuckled.

“Darcy.” Amber handed him a clean cup to place back into their endless cabinets. “Remember when you sent me away, and you ended up kidnapped and nearly dead?”

He grinned down at his wife. “I tried to handle everything on my own. Boy, I’ll never do that again!”

She didn’t seem to catch his sarcasm. “Alex is like you, but he will never change. He’s told me before. He’ll never marry, and he’ll never let anyone get close to him.”

Amber turned her attention to Nicole as she picked up the cereal bowl. “He certainly wouldn’t have sent you here to get you to safety and spoken harsh words using whatever manipulative means possible just to prevent you from going to help him again if an ally like Iolite showed up here without him. He wouldn’t care to save you from Titanite or Chrysotile or any other psychotic dragon that might try to hurt you to get to him.”

Nicole’s chest tingled. “Um, yeah. Good thing.”

Amber nodded decisively. “Well, I’m off to my morning patrol.” She floated to her husband and bounced up to reach his height. “Darcy, kiss.”

Nicole looked away while the honeymooning couple shared a passionate farewell.

Darcy murmured in a voice that was definitely not meant for company, “Nice lingerie.”

“Thank you.” Amber spoke brightly, clearly not catching on. “Nicole, I still have the lingerie you designed, and I wear it.”

“You do?” Nicole snorted with rough amusement. “Okay, cool. Glad my short career as a clothing designer ended with something useful.”

Amber agreed and then flew out the window. Just disappeared into the sky.

Darcy stood next to Nicole.

“Does she do that a lot?” Nicole asked.

“Yeah. You get used to it.” He grinned wryly and studied the kitchen. “Call me crazy, but we’ve been in here long enough that I’m starting to feel like lunch.”

“Ha ha.” Nicole watched her brother casually root through the massive cabinets and fridge. Something bothered her, and she wasn’t going to be able to let this go. “Darcy, was Amber just trying to take a dig at me about Alex sacrificing himself?”

Darcy straightened and gave Nicole the courtesy of his full, sober attention. “No. Whatever else Amber might do, she definitely was not taking a dig. Remember how she was at the house? She said crazy things in a way that totally woke me up about Mom being manipulative. She one hundred percent means it. There isn’t a deceptive bone in her body.”

That fit Nicole’s understanding too.

But, well, she still had lingering feelings of being useless, getting in the way. She was only a helpless human. Nobody cared about her opinion, her hurt, her tears. Starting from her mom.

She rested her palms on the windowsill.

Outside, her mother had moved on to painting a mural. This was clearly a set routine of activities. The remains of a midmorning snack rested beside her paints. The dragon caregiver watched discreetly while she painted.

Nicole could go out and talk to her mom at any time.

She could face the pain, guilt, and rejection.

Or she could choose not to.

Her mother was sick. She’d used her position of power to cut Nicole down and hurt all her children. Nicole had only recently grieved the relationship she’d never have. Was today the day she forgave her mom and moved on?

Alex was damaged too. He’d been fractured by life and fear and survival. Nicole had tried to help him, even though she’d initially refused. He’d drawn her in over her protests. Against her good judgments. She’d set rules, and he’d broken every one.

At the end, had he spoken harshly to stop her from ever coming to save him?

Or had he expressed his pain because he had no interest in growing?

Nicole returned to her bedroom and dragged out her phone. There were texts from Tara and a bunch of notifications she’d ignored from YouTube. Too busy going on adventures to check in on her two followers. Maybe she was up to twenty now. Ha ha. It wasn’t like she was a star.

She tucked the phone away without reading the notifications.

Well, this could be her future. Living here with her brother and sister-in-law, her mom wandering in the background, mooching off their riches while she lazed around and ignored her directionless life.

Sure. She could do that.

Alex thought so.

Yeah. He must have meant what he said. Because there was no way he’d ever have thought one of his allies would show up overhead and beg her to get back into the fight. She was an ordinary, helpless, useless human. As basically everyone had said, from Iolite on down.

There was no way.

“Nicole?” The intercom chirped. Darcy sounded alarmed. “Hey. We’ve got an unidentified ship in the area. Amber advises us to hunker down. It’s not likely to stop, but just in case, we need to treat it as a hostile.”

“Be right there.” She touched her phone in her pocket, watching outside the window while the dragon caregiver helped her subdued mother indoors.

A shadow fell across the property.

There was no way.

No way.

“Hey, Nicole?” Darcy contacted her on the intercom. “Yeah, you’re going to want to come down quick. That mystery ship’s stopped overhead, and a dragon is coming straight for us.”

Nicole dashed down the stairs from her turret to the main hall, where Darcy was waiting to usher her lower into a shielded escape capsule. She paused at the top of the capsule to catch a glimpse of the descending dragon.

The dragon winked colors in the distance, alternating between gray, colorless, and purple.

She stepped away from the capsule and shielded her eyes against the sky. “I think that’s Iolite.”

“Iolite Ironstone?” Darcy relayed her belief to Amber and reported back. “Hm, it’s unlikely. They’ve just identified the ship as belonging to her rival’s brother, Obsidian.”

But as the imperious dragon grew in size, Nicole was sure of it.

She hurried out the main door to the courtyard.

Iolite must have the eyes of an eagle, because she changed course from angling for the front of the castle to angling directly over Nicole.

Darcy stood in the doorway, worried, but trusting Nicole’s instincts.

“Human female Nicole.” Iolite boomed, majestic, her wings sweeping up dust.

She noted Nicole and Darcy covering their eyes and shifted to nude human. Darcy wheeled away, but at this point, nude dragons were old hat for Nicole.

“Alexandrite has been taken for a forced marriage to Titanite,” Iolite announced. “I call upon you as his mate to fight for him and for your future family. Join me in foiling Titanite, deposing Chrysotile, and leading Ironstone to justice.”

Nicole glanced back at Darcy. In thanks, in worry, to ask permission? She wasn’t sure why. She just needed another human to confirm that the heir of Ironstone, one of the five families ruling Draconis, needed her, Nicole, to help save the world.

Darcy straightened and pointed over his shoulder. “You need me to pack a sandwich?”

Nicole choked somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “No. Take care of everybody until I get back.”

“You got it.”

Nicole stepped forward and reached up to take Iolite’s offered hand.

“You accept?” Iolite pushed. “You know what it entails and why Alexandrite used what I can only imagine were the clumsiest, most emotionally tone-deaf words to dissuade you.”

“Yep.” Nicole grasped Iolite’s hand firmly. “Beam me up. I got this. Let’s go.”

Alex was having a bad day.

His head ached. The manacles Obsidian had left him in before sending the ship back to the matriarch’s lair had contorted his body in terrible ways for hours. He was hungry, exhausted, and ready to snap the moment he saw an enemy. And that was before Titanite’s sickly grin promised him a palace of torture.

“You will be in pain, my future husband.” She singsonged to him as her house staff wheeled his naked, bound form on the upright rack into the main pavilion. “Your vision will change from blue and lavender to red.”

“I will never be your husband,” he snapped.

Her lips twisted in a sickly sweet promise. “When I spray you with my lust hormones, you will have no choice.”

His insides curled in disgust. But he masked it with expertise. “Of course. You will spray me. I won’t know or remember what I’ve done, and I won’t feel a thing.”

Her smile turned down. “You will feel everything.”

“You have sprayed males, but cannot experience it yourself. Thus your pitiful ignorance.” He snorted at her idiocy. “The male mind goes white as gypsum. I won’t see, hear, or feel a thing.”

Her teeth clashed in anger. “You will feel everything! I will make sure.” Her long index claw caressed his bare cheek.

“Titanite, darling.” Her father, Wulfenite, cooed at her at their privileged entry. “You know Chrysotile’s orders about his skin.”

Titanite rolled her eyes, dropped her hand, and strode ahead of him, her ample hips swaying with exaggerated irritation. “I still think this is pointless. When I am heir, no one will stand against me.”

“I agree, and that’s why your mother and your aunts have decided it’s time to draw out Iolite, resolve the heir challenge, and crown you as the future of Ironstone.”

“So ridiculous.”

They installed Alex at the far left of the stage. Chrysotile’s viewing platform would be behind and above him, and the obvious place to fight would be the lowest section of the pavilion. A few family members had already gathered, including his foster parents. They ignored him and laughed with the other older members, totally carefree.

Titanite stood next to him, tapping her booted heel. She would certainly burst from the ornamentation dramatically when Iolite arrived.

She glanced back at him, and cruelty gleamed in her pale-green-shard eyes. “I wish I could carve you up right now. But then again, I also enjoy the idea that you’ll be the reason your beloved so-called sister dies. Since she never rose to the bait of anything less, feel privileged that her death will only slightly precede yours.”

“Titanite.” He recognized that blinding rage, that unquenchable thirst for vengeance, that unstoppable need to be cruel. “I know you aren’t the one who betrayed me.”

“You thought I betrayed you?” She laughed, a harsh belly-deep sound. “If I could have, I would.”

“I blamed you for exiling Gypsum.”

“Who?”

“I took out my anger in exiling Sphene. He survived, by the way.”

“Sphene…”

“The male you loved. He’s still alive.”

She legitimately didn’t seem to remember the name of the tutor he’d gotten exiled, just that Alex had wronged her and thus she needed revenge. “I’ve had so many.”

“I wrongly blamed you for something that Iolite did.”

“Iolite!” Titanite laughed, and it was just as harsh. “Yes, she had a crush on you, and you never noticed. But don’t you worry. That will be all over soon. I never had improper feelings.”

His campaign to connect with the truth like Nicole had done fell flat. He snarled. “You tortured me as a dragonlet!”

“You needed to know that you weren’t so special. Everyone treated you like you were important, and you aren’t.” Her lips curled with anticipation. “And soon, you never will be.”

“Titanite! Darling!” Her father waved her over. “Iolite is on her way. Prepare yourself.”

“Oh, I was born prepared for this.” Her green gaze darkened, and she cracked her knuckles just like Sphene, then began stretching and limbering. The growing crowd oohed and cheered. She ignored them.

Alex struggled in his bonds. His headache increased.

He couldn’t reach Titanite because she didn’t care about the people who loved her. She didn’t want reconciliation. More important to her was making him suffer.

That could be him.

Did Sphene deserve being the victim of Alex’s vengeance? Nicole had asked him that here outside this very pavilion. He hadn’t known how to answer, and so he’d pushed it from his mind.

But now he could answer.

No. Sphene didn’t deserve it.

Alex had been so focused on his own feelings that he’d ignored what mattered. He’d risked getting twisted up like Titanite. She had a completely closed heart. He would never reach in and touch hers.

Nicole’s was completely open. He wept for her. He wanted to treasure her. At least to protect her.

And, if he got out of this alive, he would go back and ask.

Help me. I want to change.

“She’s here. Iolite is leaving her ship and entering under a full guard.” Ultramarine stood beside him. The head of security was sharp as always with her gold bo that could turn into a three-pronged claw. “What did you say to Titanite about Sphene?”

“That I was sorry for my part in his getting exiled.”

Her lips flattened. “He always was too smart for his own good. Not content to be an aristocrat. He had to be a Scholar, of all things. And wasted on a dragon like Titanite.”

Clearly, Ultramarine didn’t expect him to live long if she bad-mouthed a potential future matriarch in front of him. “I didn’t realize you knew him.”

“He was my cousin.”

Was. “You mean is,” Alex corrected. “That was the other thing I told her. He’s still alive.”

Ultramarine turned and stared him fully in the face. “Do you have any proof of that?”

“I met him face-to-face. He almost killed me.”

“He died in the mine.” Her lip curled subtly, and the deep discomfort of a seriously dangerous dragon shivered in his stomach. He was suddenly acutely aware that he was naked, human, unable to shift, and that she was holding a three-pronged bo capable of enormous damage. “Proof.”

“I have a recording.”

“Where?”

“Iolite has it.”

Ultramarine’s eyes narrowed. She leaned so close to him that he shrank away. “If you’re lying and you survive Titanite, I will hang your scales on Chrysotile’s wall while you’re still alive.”

He held his breath.

“Understand?”

He nodded.

“So she better have that video.” Ultramarine clasped the bo and turned away like an impersonal security guard.

Multiple well-dressed dragons poured into the pavilion.

His heart thudded. He regretted every decision that had led him to here.

He regretted channeling his anger so effectively to push Nicole away, but embracing the toxicity and turning away from her light—from her honesty, love, openness—he knew the truth. Closing himself up from everyone would turn him into a violent, manipulative, deadly dragon who was bitter to the core like Titanite.

He chose a different fate.

He chose Nicole.

Iolite swept through the main entrance in a flowing purple gown with white sleeves and bodice. The dragons grew silent and parted for her to descend. Silence rolled across the pavilion.

She was different.

Something about her. The way she moved, flowing and swaying with dominance. The imperious gaze she turned on the shrinking crowd. She was not here voluntarily any more than he was, and yet, she had come into her power. Her chest glowed, her eyes flashed, her hair fairly crackled. At any second, smoke would rise from her, and she would burst into deadly flame.

Titanite swaggered forward, her own long split tunic and black dress pants flowing with her sneer. “So, you showed up for your beloved Alexandrite, hmm?”

Iolite flowed past him into Titanite’s space and stopped the green dragon in her tracks with nothing but her imperious anger. “No, Titanite. I showed up for you.”

Titanite’s posture sharpened as she took in Iolite’s uncompromising dominance, and she quickly recalculated her attacks. She strutted around her contained, composed cousin. “Should I be flattered? You ran away fast enough when I first issued the challenge. What changed?”

Iolite followed Titanite’s movements without a flinch. “Everything.”

Titanite stepped back. Her gaze narrowed. She knew something was off.

Alex knew something was off too. Iolite had changed. Even since the last time he’d seen her. She looked like she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. She was refreshed, energized, and focused. Despite the myriad relatives gathering in the upper parts of the pavilion, she never once removed her gaze from Titanite.

The anticipation of the upcoming fight increased the noise again. Because of his position, he was aware of Chrysotile’s entrance only when he heard her voice ordering another espresso, and Alex identified the low growl of a grinder and then the hot hiss of water forced through a bed of uniquely scented coffee grounds.

Dread uncoiled in his belly.

He craned his head to look.

Chrysotile stepped forward from her perch, blocking the view of anyone behind her, and the pavilion instantly dropped silent. The area around her two heirs cleared. Ultramarine stood at the far end of the stage. Other guards stood by the parents. Crocoite was absent, but Wulfenite stood at the bottom rung of the pavilion, already accepting congratulations and puffing his chest.

“My fellow dragons. Today, the future matriarch of Ironstone will be decided.” Chrysotile clapped once. “Only the strongest will survive.”

Titanite exploded in a furious rain of pale green scales. They flowed over her massive body like daggers. She raised her snout to the ceiling and bugled. Her roar echoed so loudly, even the floor trembled.

The observers murmured, impressed.

Iolite removed her purple dress and hung it on a neat hanger.

Titanite barked a laugh. Her deep dragon voice growled. “Did you forget this is a fight to the death?”

“I like that dress and see no reason to waste it,” Iolite replied coolly.

Titanite roared and slashed at the dress. It separated into streamers and fluttered to the sand. “Transform!”

Iolite eyed her with mild irritation, as though becoming angered by Titanite wasn’t important enough to her to make her feel any emotion. “Cousin Titanite. Has anyone ever told you that you have a problem with patience?”

Before she could quite finish the sentence, Titanite sprang at her.

Iolite flew back.

Titanite crowed. “Don’t run from me, weak archivist coward. Shift and fight!”

“You think I’m running?” Iolite’s gaze intensified as a deadly smile stretched her suddenly terrifying human face. She splayed her arms, showing unnaturally long claws. “No, Titanite. I’m demonstrating. I could defeat you easily in human or dragon form.”

Titanite shrieked and barreled toward the lithe human-form rival.

Iolite dropped beneath her at the last moment.

Titanite kicked out a back leg.

She hit Iolite square in the back. Long talons scored Iolite. She flinched and rolled away. Blood dripped onto the sand.

Titanite called joyfully. “First blood!”

The crowd murmured.

Iolite paused and examined her back. The human skin was too vulnerable to claws. But also, Iolite didn’t look shaken. There was a chance, maybe just a hope, that this too was part of her plan.

The whirr of the coffee bean grinder drew Alex’s attention back toward Chrysotile’s platform. She no longer blocked the view. She lounged on a bench, alternating between interest and boredom, and tapped an empty espresso cup on her flat dragon palm. At the machine behind her…

Alex’s stomach dropped.

For the second time, he saw his worst nightmare come to life.

Nicole stood at the espresso machine. She turned to hand Chrysotile a fresh cup. And, he could just see it, she was preparing to lecture the deadly indomitable homicidal matriarch.

Nicole handed Chrysotile the cup of espresso. She couldn’t stand to watch the match behind her. Not just because of the blood, but also because the fate of Earth depended on the winner. “Too many shots will make you sick.”

“Not I, small human. I am a dragon.” Chrysotile’s avid gaze focused on the cry and shout of the deadly fight. She gulped the drink without lifting her gaze. “You heard my order. Prepare the whole bag. Down to the very last cup.”

“It’ll cause the shakes,” Nicole warned. “I’ve seen it in dragons.”

“Weak low castes.”

Alex was finally looking at her.

Nicole straightened. She’d been trying to get his attention since the moment she’d arrived.

He swiftly shook his head.

She put a hand on her hip. Even when they couldn’t speak, he was still trying to silence her? He should know better by now.

“Espresso. Now.” Chrysotile lifted a brow. “Do I need to repeat myself?”

It took a second for Nicole to unspool her thoughts back to the last thing she’d said. She turned on her heel, her heart pumping hard. “I’m just thinking of your health.”

“And I am thinking how much stronger dragons are against the weak poisons of careless humans. Don’t overstep.”

Nicole ground up the rest of the bag and then began pulling shots rhythmically, going into a flow state. She poured the pulled shots into the largest bowl and carried it, careful not to slosh, over to Chrysotile. While Chrysotile drained the bowl—more slowly, at least—she got out a second bowl and repeated the calming motions. Arguments and counterarguments bubbled across her tongue. Dragons were immune to alcohol, poisons, and toxins, but they got a buzz off coffee. Didn’t that mean Chrysotile wasn’t immune?

But Nicole continued. Second bowl. Third.

Ooh, the fighting was really getting intense. She kept her mind on her coffee tasks, ignoring the outside distractions. Like during a rush when someone else took the orders and the money. She just pulled, pulled, pulled.

The crowd gasped.

Chrysotile lowered her half-finished bowl.

Nicole couldn’t stop herself from looking. Either Titanite had just taken another chunk out of Iolite’s back, or—

Iolite, fully transformed, had driven Titanite to the ground, landed claws-deep on her back, and closed her fangs around Titanite’s neck.

Titanite struggled trying to whip herself back and forth like a trapped serpent, but Iolite patiently and methodically buried her claws and fangs deeper and deeper into her cousin’s skin. Titanite might have gotten first blood, but Iolite would ensure that she drew the most blood.

Titanite weakened and started to hiss in rage.

The crowd watched silently as their supposed champion faded on the sand.

Wulfenite shouted, hoarse and panicked. “Fly! My love, throw her off. You can’t be beaten like this. You’re the winner!”

Titanite sank to her knees.

Wulfenite rushed forward. “My darling, don’t let her beat you. You’re the heir!”

Guards held him back with their golden staffs. “Fighters only. No crowd. Fighters only!”

He snarled, panicked, and then shifted into a shiny orange dragon and plowed through the guards onto the fighting arena, roaring. “You will not hold me back. I am Wulfenite, father of the future matriarch!” He shook off the electric shocks and clawed Iolite across the face.

She held on, growling.

He swiped her again, roared, and crunched her front right foot.

She screamed and released Titanite.

Wulfenite chased after her.

She regrouped, her focus suddenly split between the old male and the larger, though woozy, dominant pale-green female.

Chrysotile watched with renewed interest.

“Hey,” Nicole protested, a sinking feeling making her guts tremble with new fear. “That’s not fair. The crowd can’t just jump into the fight. You said so.”

Chrysotile lifted both brows and rolled her eyes in a close approximation of Titanite. “You sound so much like my mother, it’s boring. I have half a mind to throw you across the pavilion and see how many pieces you break into when you hit the back wall.”

Fear spiked her stomach.

Nicole battled through the terror and dread. This was what Alex and Iolite had lived with every day. She wouldn’t break down crying after a few minutes. “I haven’t finished pulling your espressos.”

“Get on with it.”

“It’s not fair,” she insisted.

“I’m not stopping Iolite’s doting parents from jumping in.” Chrysotile lifted a claw at her sniffling younger sister.

Charoite had wilted into a soggy mess the moment the fighting started and now relied on Genthelvite to hold her up. Neither protested the unjust rules changing or Wulfenite jumping in. They grieved as if their daughter’s death was a foregone conclusion.

“They’re useless! At least let Alex go free. He’d do something.”

“And damage that one-of-a-kind hide? Never.”

“But—”

“Forget it, Nicole,” Alex called. His two-tone eyes gleamed with cynical knowledge. “Chrysotile wants Iolite to lose. No one cares about a fair fight.”

Wulfenite pinned Iolite to the ground, again crunching her one claw, while she thrashed. He called around his mouthful, “Attack, Titanite. I have her!”

“I don’t need you,” Titanite snarled at him. “Get out. I’m not a dragonlet. I can defeat my weak archive-dwelling cousin on my own.”

“Titanite, take her down. I’ll never let her hurt you. You’re my darling!”

Harsh flames erupted out of Iolite’s mouth and torched Wulfenite. He screamed and released Iolite, then scrambled away.

Titanite’s throat glowed green. “Don’t hurt my dad, you cheating dragon!” Flames erupted from her mouth as well.

Iolite dodged away, but weaker and more slowly, with a dragging foot.

Titanite shook her head. Blood sprayed from her forehead and dripped down her neck. Her flames died, and she staggered, then righted herself and lumbered after Iolite. “Come down, you flaming cheater. There’s no fire in an heir fight.” She lunged and knocked Iolite into the second stage, scattering the crowd, and stormed after her. “Stay in the ring, idiot.”

“I’m coming, my darling,” Wulfenite whimpered as he limped down and snapped at Iolite’s neck.

She rolled away from both of them and sprang into the air.

“Get away, Father, leave me alone. You made her run. I had her.”

“You’re outside the bounds.”

“Nobody cares. Look.”

Iolite collapsed in the center of the ring.

Titanite hurried down the pavilion stairs, seemingly too exhausted to fly. “I knew she’d pass out. I told you. She sniffs old monoliths all day. She’s not strong.”

“I will hold her down for you, my darling.”

“Everyone’s a cheater. Nobody cares,” Nicole muttered and emptied her basket to fill another shot.

Chrysotile clapped. “Oh, very well. Anyone can jump in, since you’re all going to break the rules anyway.”

Nicole lowered her basket. “Anyone?”

“Except Alexandrite, of course. No rare dragon. Lovely hide.”

Nicole shouted, “Anyone can help Iolite. She already defeated Titanite. She can do it again! All you have to do is hold Wulfenite back.”

Nobody responded. They all watched Iolite shriek and writhe as Wulfenite and Titanite took turns holding her down, trying and failing to get her in a fatal hold, while she dealt some stunning damage.

Nicole focused on a familiar dragon. “Emery!”

The mother jumped. Her dragonlet was nowhere to be seen today; probably she was safe at home with Emery’s husband. “I am loyal to the family.”

“Then prove it by pulling out Wulfenite so the two heirs can finish their fight.”

Emery’s chest rose and fell. Her fists clenched and released.

Chrysotile laughed at Nicole’s wasted effort. “So you see, it does not matter. Titanite is strong. Iolite may be clever, but she lacks the will to draw the family to her side.” She sipped her bottomless espresso and examined her hands. “Mm, I feel the most amazing sensations in my fingertips.”

Nicole shouted at Emery. “Does fairness and justice mean nothing to you? Do you only truly care about might?”

She floated forward and back, moved by Nicole’s words and yet held back.

“No one’s deciding your future right now but you! You’re looking at the future. Your future. Schorl’s. Do you like it? Is that what we saved her for?”

Emery glared at Nicole. Smoke burned from her nostrils.

Alex shook his bindings. He saw the danger and tried to get free to shelter Nicole.

“Well, well.” Chrysotile eyed Nicole. “What a mouth you do have. It’s going to get you in trouble someday.”

Nicole shrank back.

Chrysotile’s attention returned to the fight.

Wulfenite chomped Iolite’s claw again.

Iolite screamed.

Titanite slapped her with a claw across the cheek.

More blood.

Emery burst into dragon and stormed the fight. The guards let her pass, even though they twitched as though they wanted to interfere. The security head stood just below Nicole, and she clearly indicated for them not to move. Emery billowed flames over Wulfenite. He dropped Iolite and retreated.

Titanite roared at her. “Get out of here, common stone!”

Emery ignored her and focused on Wulfenite.

He growled and swiped at her. “Your family will all die. Exiles, all of you. You dare to defy me? Father of the future matriarch? All of you will go to the mines!”

“Get out, lovesick male.” Emery spat her insult, and sparks danced on the sand as he backed away. “If your daughter can’t defeat a challenger on her own, she doesn’t deserve to rule Ironstone.”

Wulfenite shrank away from her.

Emery turned her back to return to her former vantage point.

He sidled forward to swipe her unawares. “You don’t turn your back on me, wretched—”

The nearest dragons turned on him, preventing him from injuring Emery or reentering the fight.

He scuttled away from the surprise claws and onslaught. “You will all regret when I tell Crocoite what you’ve done!”

On the field, Iolite rose. Dust showered off her body. She shook her scales, and the wounds looked like mere scratches. Her gaze glowed with new determination. She snarled at Titanite. “Thank you for that relaxing rest, Cousin Titanite. If you’re done playing, I’m ready to end this.”

Nicole’s chest lifted.

Had Iolite manipulated them all this whole time? Had she tricked them to appear weak and draw them in when she’d actually been secretly rested and energized?

Titanite backed away from her, giving ground for the first time.

Iolite swelled to her full size, which seemed larger than ever, and soared effortlessly across the ring.

Titanite watched her coming. She didn’t even put up a guard. Her father’s scream of warning didn’t seem to register. She stared up in awe.

Iolite dropped on top of her and crushed her.

She savaged Titanite with brutal efficiency. Every swipe, Iolite countered, every flame, Iolite slammed Titanite’s head into the sand. Titanite sank into the pavilion ground. Iolite stood over her, the obvious champion. “Do you yield?”

Titanite didn’t answer.

“I am heir. You live by my whim. Disobey me, and I will rip your throat out.”

Titanite rolled over on her back and offered her throat.

The crowd let out a huge sigh.

Then silence filled the pavilion. Iolite’s breath sounded loud against the collective awe. No one had predicted her win. Even her closest allies had miscalculated.

“Rip her throat out.” Chrysotile lowered the bowl and bumped it with her hand. She fumbled it, sloshing out liquid, steadied it, then rose and repeated her order. “I have no need for two heirs. End the useless one.”

Iolite tilted her dragon head. “She’s not useless.”

“She is defeated. Of course she’s useless.” Chrysotile slurred her last word and then examined her hands. The claws shimmered under the surface. She rubbed her belly and swallowed convulsively. “Do it now so this can be over.”

Iolite looked back at the crowd, down at the defeated Titanite, and then examined her own body. She flexed her injured claw, grimaced, and tested her uninjured one.

“What are you doing?” Chrysotile blinked rapidly. “Searching for a weapon? Use your claws. Make it quick.”

Iolite looked Chrysotile square in the eye. “No.”

“Are you… You dare to challenge me? I will annihilate you.” Chrysotile stumbled over the espresso bowl, knocking it over and dumping the liquid. “I’ll annihilate all of you.”

“You committed treason against the Dragon Empire. I will not allow you to destroy Ironstone the way you’ve destroyed everything else.”

“What a childish thing to say.” Chrysotile snorted. “Is this because of the ship’s hull? The one I was rumored to have destroyed? Of course I have not destroyed any. They are all one of a kind in their own ways, and you wanted to see them all so badly, I let you get a good, long look the last time you were here. How can you say you’re still not satisfied?”

“Because you used other family’s hulls to justify claiming a mine which your greedy sister ran into disrepair until it destroyed itself.”

“This is all about family resources? Then won’t you be excited when I tell you that we’ve found another?”

Iolite tilted her head. “Not one of ours.”

“Of course it is.”

Ugly realization sank into Nicole. “Oh, no,” she moaned.

“Oh, yes,” Chrysotile laughed with roaring delight. “You, human, are so interesting. You understand, don’t you? Like my mother, you truly understand me, and it horrifies you.”

“Well, I don’t.” Iolite drew Chrysotile’s attention again. “You’re a lying traitor to the Empire.”

Nicole dropped to her stomach and waved her recording at the security dragon with the sharp blue eyes. It was now more important than ever to get their messages across before the same fate befell Earth as the Colony mine.

Chrysotile sneered at Iolite, ignoring Nicole. “I would stab the new Empress in the heart to better Ironstone. What do I care about a few mudrocks who die in an old mine? Doubt my loyalty to the Empire if you will, but never doubt my loyalty to Ironstone.”

Nicole murmured, “Can you play this over the biggest view screen you have in here?”

Ultramarine stared at the storage device without taking it. “What’s that?”

“Evidence from the mine. Everything. Interviews with the survivors.”

“When did you collect it?”

“I don’t know. What day is today?”

“That recent?”

“Yeah, a few days ago. Why?”

Ultramarine looked around the room, making visual eye contact with all her guards. She swiped the recorder from Nicole and flew out of the room.

Chrysotile continued to mock Iolite. “You are supposed to be thoughtful, but you would insult our illustrious family over a few mudrocks.”

“Some of those ‘mudrocks’ were our family.”

“Only the ugly ones.” Chrysotile threw up her clawed hands and shook her head. “You don’t appreciate what I’ve done. None of you.” She tsked. “If it weren’t for me, Ironstone caverns would be absolutely overrun with ugly little dragonlets. The highest families were popping them out, one after another, weakening our line with the nastiest common stones. I refined our lines. I made us beautiful and elite. Every dragon who is now living is a monument. A statue. To Ironstone, and to my great taste.”

“I don’t know,” Nicole interjected, arms crossed. “You’re kind of a minimalist. You’re the type who’d throw out everything that makes a family good and strong. Because if you had to go up against a bigger family, your beauty isn’t going to last a second against greater numbers.”

Chrysotile frowned at her, then squinted and blinked. “Am I hallucinating? Or am I truly being lectured by a human about artistic taste?”

“We’re known for being creative. It’s kind of our jam.”

“Dragons are known for our dominance.” Her teeth clicked together into fangs, and her wings rose and dwarfed the stage. “And that is what I am about to establish.”

Chrysotile’s massive shadow banked over Alex.

He shivered.

She swiveled and dropped onto the ground in front of Iolite. She was twice the other dragon’s size, and although Iolite had changed a lot, no one could stand before the true matriarch without a tremble.

“Obey me, ridiculous heir, or I will summon your husband and dragonlet.”

Iolite bunched her muscles beneath her and backed away, cautious and plotting, careful of the attack. “No.”

“Go get them,” Chrysotile ordered one of her guards, who disappeared directly. Her cruel, dangerous smile sharpened on Iolite. “I will prune this unruly branch of our genetic tree.”

“Your chaotic time is at an end.” Iolite rose before her to meet her eye. “Now we enter the age of reason.”

Chrysotile curled her lip and barely twitched. Her claw came from out of nowhere and slammed Iolite into the ground.

Iolite lay stunned.

No!

Chrysotile paced before the downed purple dragon and barked a laugh. “Was that it? One single swat, and you’re a disciplined dragonlet?”

She clamped Iolite’s neck in one claw.

Iolite gripped Chrysotile’s dragon knuckles and writhed.

Chrysotile laughed and squeezed.

Alex fought his bonds. His relationship with Iolite would never be the same, but she was still his foster sister. She couldn’t be killed in front of him. Not like this.

“Stop!” Nicole cried, just as she had when they’d last gathered here. The agony in her tone matched the ache in his heart. “Stop it!”

Amazingly, just as before, Chrysotile listened to Nicole. She didn’t release Iolite, but she paused to chortle. “You understand, don’t you, human? What I said before about finding another hull. You understand me. I always provide for Ironstone.”

“You found a hull on Earth.” Nicole covered her cheeks and bounced like she was suppressing her scream with all her might. “You found it on Earth.”

“On useless, ugly, genetically defective, backwater Earth.” Chrysotile swallowed convulsively. Her smile wavered, but she cheerfully finished up. “Crocoite is going there now to declare our ownership.”

“What if it’s not yours?”

“Then she will destroy the relevant markings until it is.” Chrysotile swallowed again, and her smile turned into a frown. “What is wrong? My stomach churns.”

Nicole lowered her hands. “Um, I don’t know.”

“Did you dare try to poison me?”

“Me? Huh? No, I told you not to drink so many espressos. That stuff goes straight to your stomach.”

“But I’m a dragon.”

“Well, sure, but you took them pretty fast. I don’t know if anyone’s established a dragon’s tolerance.”

“But I’m immune,” she insisted. “I don’t suffer from any human weakness.”

“Yeah, but if you can consume most of a bag of coffee before feeling ill, that’s definitely no ‘human’ weakness. We’ll feel bad after a few triples. No joke.”

“So you say, insolent human. I will end this disreputable heir, and I will snap your neck next.”

Nicole stepped back, her hands guarding her throat. Her recording necklace stuck on her neck. She was still recording even now. “Help Iolite. Hey! Emery. You have to help her.”

Emery paced back and forth. “How?”

“Attack.”

“But she can’t be killed.”

“What do you mean? She’s fireproof, not immortal.”

“That’s basically the same for dragons.”

Iolite was failing.

Alex rattled his chains. “Free me. I will fight.”

Emery and the others ignored him.

Nicole hurried to the edge of the platform. She would help.

“Quiet, Alexandrite.” Chrysotile whipped her tail between them. It hissed in the air and drove Nicole back. “You are more beautiful when you are silent. That is why your scales will make such a perfect blanket for Mother in her sarcophagus.”

He rattled harder.

“If anyone has a complaint with my leadership, feel free to speak up and take your place in my efficient execution line. No? Then I will carry on as I always have, champion of beauty, keeper of justice, fury, and might.” Chrysotile seemed to turn her attention back on Iolite. She tightened her claws and grinned. “You die now.”

Iolite squeaked.

Overhead, a giant voice boomed: “These are the recordings of the dragons abandoned at the mine by the authority of Crocoite and Wulfenite, overseen by matriarch Chrysotile, who have survived despite great hardship all these years.” The camera panned across the mine survivors one by one.

The crowd gasped.

“My dragonlet!” a female cried, shrill.

Another roared, “Mother?”

The elder looked steadily into the camera. “Chrysotile Ironstone. I disagreed with you from the moment you declared my grand dragon a too-common color. I stood up to you then, and I stand up to you now. More than that, I spit on your skin. You’re fireproof, perhaps, but I will drown you in shame. You tried to kill me. Well, I will not be killed. Prepare yourself. We are coming.”

Chrysotile dropped Iolite. Her lip curled in recognition. “Pearl Ironstone. Such a waste of rare scales.”

“Mother, Father, Brother.” Sphene’s cocky head tilt made his green eyes shine like shards of broken glass. “If you’re still alive—I asked myself all the time how you let it happen to me, why you didn’t rescue me, especially since I was here the whole time. But then I found out you thought I was dead, so, I forgive you for that. But if you still leave me here to die, even after Nicole tells you about me, then I’m going to take it as an insult. So you know.”

The interviews played on. Dragon after dragon. And although Chrysotile looked increasingly bored, she couldn’t drag their attention back to her. They were riveted.

Gypsum’s interview played last. “We didn’t die. Not even me. Hi, Mother and Father. Look at me! Your fragile girl survived.”

The interviews ended.

All the dragons lowered their eyes.

And then nothing happened.

Alex twisted. They were going to die here in the pavilion because no one would stand against Chrysotile. He had to get free.

Nicole’s desperation sharpened as she made the same terrible realization. “Don’t you get it? Your family members are still alive! Don’t let Chrysotile kill them a second time. Help Iolite!”

Silence deafened the pavilion.

“Big surprise,” Chrysotile sneered at Nicole. “A bunch of ugly dragons are living in exile. I hear no complaints. They’re the lucky ones in comparison to what I’ll do to you.”

The parents of Gypsum floated forward, human hands linked. Her mother, scales shimmering beneath her skin in a dramatic orange, threw back her head. “I have a complaint.”

Sphene’s parents shouted out as well. “We too have a complaint.”

“Silence.” Chrysotile’s growl deafened the room. “You want this resolved? Very well. Hail Obsidian. I will have him blow up the mine, and then you will be satisfied that there are no more survivors.”

The view screen changed to show Gypsum lounging on the main bench with Obsidian’s boots on her feet resting on the console. “Oh, hello there, Chrysotile. What a surprise. You’re still alive.”

“Same.” Her voice was clipped with anger. “Where is my useless nephew?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere in the mines, I think. I dropped him and the crew off there when I picked up everyone. We’re looking forward to a great homecoming when we arrive in…” She squinted at the far trip log, then shrugged and laughed with a shimmery, pure, white, uplifting twinkle. “Who knows? Let’s make it a big surprise. I hope you’ve prepared a nice party.”

“Gypsum?” Her mother floated upward.

She dropped her feet and straightened, perfect posture, freshness and gentleness in her dewy soft eyes. “Mother?”

“Gypsum? You’re still alive?”

“M—”

“Cut feed,” Chrysotile snapped.

The view screen went blank.

The crowd of dragons growled.

“Silence, all of you. I will deal with you one at a time.”

Gypsum’s mother floated slowly back to the ground, stunned rage burning slowly across her features. Her lips curled back from fangs. “I have a complaint.”

“I told you to be silent.”

She balled her fists and screamed. “I have a complaint!”

“I am the matriarch!” Chrysotile roared. The ceiling shook. Some of the dragons sheltered while dust fell on them from the ceiling.

But Gypsum’s mother shrieked, ���I have a complaint!”

“You can’t have a complaint. You can’t have a complaint! I am the matriarch. You are all beneath me. Your dragonlets are dirty subcreatures who deserve to labor for us and die in the muck from whence they came. I chose the beautiful, the strong to continue our bloodline. After all this time, my masterpiece is nearly complete—”

Iolite freed an arm and slashed her claws deep across Chrysotile’s unguarded belly.

Chrysotile blanched, white on white, and then turned a disbelieving gray. She stared at Iolite shakily. “How…dare…you?”

Iolite scrambled free.

Chrysotile staggered back. Her stomach glowed, then her throat. “I will…flame…you all!” She lowered her head and opened her mouth.

Dark, wet espresso flowed out.

She coughed, choked, and stared at the liquid in stunned confusion.

Iolite rose slowly and shook off the dust, once more a noble, bloodied, but undefeated future matriarch. “You are fireproof, but not immortal.”

The other dragons followed her, and they attacked Chrysotile.

They knocked Alex’s rack over. He worked free of his bonds, rolled out of the rack, and flew up to protect Nicole.

She had backed away from the riot, the espresso bowl a helmet. She lifted it to clock him.

He ducked underneath and secured her in his kiss.

She resisted. “You hurt me so badly.”

“I’m sorry.” He stroked her cheek.

Tears wavered in her eyes. “Did you say all that stuff just to convince me not to come after you to rescue you?”

“No.”

She flinched, another hit.

“I promised never to lie to you,” he reminded her. “And I broke that promise. Everything before was true. Now, everything after is true.”

“How can I believe you?” she begged.

“You know me better than anyone. You’re the only one I let know me. And because I saw my future as a bitter, vengeful, single-mindedly hateful dragon. I won’t do that. I want to change. I need you.”

She held up her hand. “I have a few rules.”

He nuzzled beneath it and kissed her. She murmured a protest. He smiled. “I know. I know. Of course you do.”

The riot behind them quieted.

He put their reconciliation on hold and shielded Nicole from the final ending view of the harsh battle.

She gratefully buried her head in his shoulder to keep from seeing.

He needed to see it. He’d lived through too much not to gaze on the final end of the figure who had formed such a terrible, unforgiving, awful part of his past.

Chrysotile was dead. Destroyed by the dragons she’d abused. Her last expression was surprise. She must have thought she would live forever and rule unopposed.

Because no one had stood up to her and lived.

Until Nicole.

Iolite rose onto the stage and assumed Chrysotile’s former spot. “Ironstone family. We have endured much hardship. With the coming reunion of all the dragons unjustly torn from us over one dragon’s personal taste, the healing can begin. We focus on us now. Rebuilding what was torn down. Becoming the strong, loyal, loving family that grows and flourishes.”

She took a moment, pressed a hand to a dangerously dark bruise on her hip, and continued.

“I will accept any dragonlets that were formerly refused, and I will validate any marriages that were made in secret or delayed. Come forward now, or wait until the next celebration.”

There was a shocked rustling.

Alex tugged Nicole forward.

She gasped and stopped him. “What are you doing? You’re never going to get married.”

“I changed.”

“Not like this, you didn’t!”

He would have to prove it to her. He pulled her close. She started to melt.

“Alexandrite and Nicole, you are preapproved,” Iolite announced dryly, causing several family members to smirk. “Anyone else?”

Wulfenite rose from Titanite’s side. “You hurt my daughter. How dare you call yourself matriarch?” He flashed out his claws.

Iolite grimaced and dropped her hands to form crooked, ragged claws. She looked unwell but focused.

“Drop your threat. Now.” Ultramarine’s authority rang across the pavilion. Security converged on Wulfenite. They leveled electrified bo claws. “I will shoot you right there if you do not obey your new matriarch.”

“She isn’t the rightful one! She hasn’t defeated all who deserve the throne!”

Iolite glared over them. “Who remains a contender?”

It would be horrible for her to have to defeat another challenger after having bested Titanite and Chrysotile, but that was how the challenges worked, and no one would deny another their challenge.

Everyone looked around.

Iolite’s mother, Charoite, an obvious contender, wilted into the background. She grieved at her sister’s body, sobbing softly, inconsolable. Genthelvite, as always, rested at her side.

“Who remains?” Ultramarine echoed, issuing the final call for a challenger.

Wulfenite sputtered as if he couldn’t believe they were so stupid. “Crocoite!”

“Where is she? Recall Crocoite.”

He fiddled with the communicator. “I cannot. She’s beyond the interference.”

Iolite swung to Nicole and Alex with new horror lighting her eyes. “I will stop the interference and recall my dragons, but I doubt Crocoite will obey, especially once she learns I’ve defeated Titanite. There is much to do here. Go to Earth, quickly. I will send my fastest ship. You may be able to beat her to Earth’s crash site.”

“What if the ship we find is marked as belonging to the Ironstone family?” Nicole asked urgently.

Iolite blinked. “Then I do not authorize any change to the treaty. Certainly no destruction, enslavement, nothing.”

Nicole’s shoulders dropped. “Oh. Right. Of course.”

“But I cannot promise that Crocoite will obey my authority. You must save Earth alone.”

“Not alone.” Alex linked hands with Nicole. “Together.”

Iolite’s lips tugged into a surprised smile. She shook her head, then nodded. “Go. Save Earth together.”

Nicole didn’t relax even when they got on the fastest ship. She was on the edge of her seat the whole trip, until Earth was in their sights. Alex had changed into a fine suit, and he was everything she wanted, and she was so terrified that they’d come so far only to have it all ripped away in the end.

“Where’s the ship hull?” she asked with worry. “Can we even get to it?”

“You don’t have any guess?” He teased loose a lock of her hair, wound it around his index finger, and tugged. “Prepare your recorder.”

“It’s still on, and I have no idea. Area 51?”

“Ah, yes. Area 51, that ancient site associated with aliens for thousands of years...”

“Stonehenge?” She frowned as they centered over a very specific part of the Earth. “Wait. Are those the pyramids?”

“Yes.” He skimmed over the massive triangle caltrops and banked low to the Earth. “The hull was identified beneath the pyramids. Before we left Earth, Flint contracted dragons to bore a hole, but did not identify the owners. We’ve beaten Crocoite here thanks to Iolite’s ship.”

She dropped down on the sandy earth, stretched, and enjoyed the scent of normal hot summer in Egypt. As if she had any idea what that was like.

A too-big insect buzzed past her face.

Flies swarmed around her mouth and eyes.

She covered her face and squeaked. “Too much nature! Too much nature!”

Alex laughed, a delighted rumble, and his arm wrapped around her midsection. He lifted her and flew deep into the nice, big, cool hole. The bugs melted away. “Earth is a paradise for humans. Everywhere is ideal for breathing and survival.”

“It’s a bug’s paradise too.” She snuggled into his comforting embrace while he flew deep into the barely lit bore hole. “Sphene and Gypsum talked about bugs on the mining planet.”

“They were introduced. They can only live in the stable atmosphere dragons created.”

“What a nightmare.”

He grinned. “I won’t tell you how many spiderwebs I’m breaking.”

She squeaked. “Alex! Are you really?”

“Who knows?”

She squeaked again. “Don’t tease.”

“But it’s so much fun.” His murmur tickled her ear. “I need to know everything about you. You are my mate, Nicole. My one.”

Her heart swelled. Her lips tingled. She snuggled close.

Even if he changed his mind again, she had him right now.

Just like she had Earth.

For now.

She whispered, “What if the hull owner isn’t Ironstone?”

“It will be.” His voice crackled with ice.

But Iolite would be busy rebuilding and strengthening Ironstone. She wouldn’t dispatch a fleet over the fate of Earth.

Maybe Alex was right and it would be fine.

They flew over a massive rounded rock. Long red marks were actually design lines. More than lines: symbols.

“Stop!”

Alex obliged, hovering over what must be the hull.

She pointed out the marks. “Isn’t that writing?”

He dropped down on top of it. Their feet crunched the crust. He removed a tool from inside his suit jacket that looked like a cross between a laser and a handheld jackhammer. He aimed it at the crust. “Only one way to find out.”

A beam of blue light smoked. The crust turned black and then sloughed off.

“Any archaeologists watching this recording, shield your eyes,” Nicole murmured.

He cleared the crusty debris to reveal dragon symbols.

She stared hard. The lines formed unfamiliar words that she magically knew, like suddenly recognizing a white word from the red shadow around it. “Palladium. That’s a family, isn’t it?”

Alex rested his tool on the ground and stepped back to reread the whole name. His jaw flexed. “One of the five families.”

“Are they also gung-ho about turning Earth into a slave factory?”

He shook his head. He didn’t know.

She rubbed her dirty hands off on her leg. Her new leggings were probably stained. Alex still looked perfect, and she felt a new kind of terror. “I guess we’ll have to contact them.”

“Don’t bother.” The raspy voice of Crocoite lanced the dark.

They wheeled.

Crocoite hulked behind them in dragon form. She clenched a laser. A bright red beam ejected from the device and melted the symbols. She released the laser, ending the red beam. The metal smoked.

She then aimed the laser device squarely at Nicole’s chest and rested her finger over the trigger. “I’ll take over from here.”

* * *

Alex stepped in front of Nicole. Anger boiled beneath his skin and stirred his scales. “Lower your weapon.”

Nicole reacted an instant later to Crocoite’s property destruction. “You can’t do that! That was Palladium’s historical hull.”

“I’ve already done it, human. The rightful family will never know.”

“Yes, they will! Who did the other hulls belong to? Did you do the same to them?”

“The hulls were discovered before my mother was born, idiot human.”

Alex eased Nicole out of the target of the laser. “You’ve done your work, Aunt Crocoite. Excuse us. We have to report to the matriarch.”

She barked a laugh. The red teeth glistened. “You’re not going anywhere, low caste. I will enjoy the honor of making the report.”

“Our matriarch is expecting us to do so.” He edged Nicole another step away.

“Why should I allow you to take my glory? Stay put.” She removed her communicator and kept the laser leveled on them. “Chrysotile might even allow me to finally kill you. You’re too low for my Titanite.”

Alex tensed for the moment the video communicator connected and Crocoite learned the truth.

Static sounded, and then Wulfenite shrieked. “It’s all a lie. It’s all a lie!”

Crocoite lowered her laser in irritation. “What’s a lie? Where is the matriarch? Answer me!”

Alex collected Nicole in a smooth, sweeping motion and flew back to a safe distance. The transmitter conversation echoed across the hull and cavern.

“Hello, Crocoite.” Iolite’s tone was flat, steely. She’d made this exact call a few times today. “I have defeated Chrysotile in teeth-to-claw combat and assumed the matriarchy. Leave the crash site now, undamaged, and return home at once.”

“You don’t order me around.”

“Until you come here and defeat me, I do.” Again the steel thread never once flickered. “Where are Alexandrite and Nicole?”

“Present!” Nicole called in Alex’s arms.

“Did you two find out who the planet belongs to?”

“Palladium!”

Iolite’s tone held a frown. “House Palladium? I don’t know their intentions. I will begin inquiries.”

“Hold on.” Crocoite puffed her wide chest. “I’m the one who handles external resources. This is mine to determine how we continue.”

“But Earth is not ours,” Iolite said. “Not at all.”

“I didn’t say Earth belonged to Ironstone. I said it belonged to me. And the hull has no ownership markings.”

“Because you burned them off!” Nicole cried. “Just wait until everyone sees you destroying it.”

Crocoite frowned. “What?”

“Nicole?” Iolite’s smile was audible. “You’re still recording?”

“You bet.” Nicole clenched her recorder. “If I’m connected to a satellite on Earth, it’s live-streaming. Ha ha, hi to my two followers, if you can see me in the mine.”

Aw. She was so goofy and adorable. It made Alex almost physically hurt.

“You might or might not be streaming to a bunch of backwater orangutans?” Crocoite lifted her laser. “That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”

“I was afraid you might say that,” Alex intercepted, “which is why I had the whole tunnel lined with cameras. Nicole is not the only one recording, although hers will be the most delightful.”

Crocoite squawked. “I’ll destroy all the cameras, and then I’ll destroy you.”

“That is why other representatives of the major families agreed to follow you into the cave. They are here too.” Lights flashed on cue, and the whole tunnel emerged into bright, bright floodlights. “And they’re all recording as well.”

His oldest brother, Mal, growled green in front of a semicircle of dragons. “Embarrassing an aristocrat? You don’t ask for many favors, Alex, but when you do…” Mal grinned with all his teeth. “That’s the most satisfying favor I could ever imagine.”

Alex snugged Nicole close. “I aim to satisfy.”

Crocoite emitted a shriek of frustration. “I will come back. I’ll challenge you and win! You’ll see. You’ll all see!”

Crocoite barreled out the exit, taking the transmitter with her. The dragons parted to let her through. Kyan and his security team flew after her. Other dragons landed on the hull and conversed about excavating it.

Nicole hugged Alex. “Is Earth safe? Is the crisis averted?”

“For now.”

“Can we go home?”

He confirmed the allied dragons would secure the site and then exited the tunnel.

Crocoite had defaced the hull, but they had incontrovertible proof of the original owning family. He hurried Nicole into their ship and escaped back to his lair, anchored the ship overhead, and flew her into the secret entrance. He flew up a tunnel shaft to a glass shelter embedded into the rock at the tip top and covered in trees.

Nicole walked along the window walls of the biggest living room and stared down at the crashing ocean. “I came here, right here, and I had no idea this was the peak of the mountain.”

He snugged her close. “I don’t enjoy giving up my secrets.”

“That’s an understatement.”

He gazed at her, his future, his love, his mate. “You need care and love.”

“Yes.” But doubt clouded her features. She put a hand up to place distance between them and avoided his questioning gaze. “How about a shower and a snack? Please tell me you have real food. If it’s only paste, you’re going to have to get takeout.”

He provided everything she desired, but worry niggled him. He’d hurt her deeply and nearly lost everything. But that would never happen again. How could he convince her? They’d succeeded. He’d find a way to soothe her unease.

* * *

Alex was so much more attentive, it was scary.

He’d always noticed Nicole, always neatened her appearance and beautified her as if he couldn’t stop himself, but the depth of his loving capabilities scared her. If she got used to this pampering, if she allowed herself to really get used to him, and then he took his love away? She might never recover.

He drew her a bath in his secret gray geometric tub lined with gold squares, and she bathed with pine and pitch scents, and then she dried off in a fluffy robe and helped herself to squeeze cheese on crackers, an old comfort food, in his deep kitchen. She carried the plate of food to his dining room and sat in one of the geometric gray chairs, turning it away from the table to take in the beautiful view.

He joined her. “Formal wear. I like it.”

She snorted, and immediately, her nerves eased. “Seriously, that is the craziest thing.”

He walked around in front of her, leaned down, and dipped a hand around her waist. “I think you’ll not find it’s the craziest thing.”

“What’s the craziest thing?”

His gaze dropped to her lips.

Could she trust him?

Could she dare?

He moved in slowly, so slowly, and then he kissed so softly, thoroughly, gently, that she ached.

She wanted to trust.

Perhaps that was enough.

He teased her mouth, biting and tasting her lips, savoring her tongue, and sliding over her teeth. Her body tuned in to his undeniable sensual vibrations. She made little whimpers of impatience to urge him along. And he refused, covering her mouth more slowly, more languorously, imprinting her with male perfection that made her body throb and her pussy pound.

She wriggled in her chair. “Alex, please.”

He tugged her lobe into his mouth, releasing desperate tingles. “I need to love you hard until all your doubts are gone.”

“My doubts are gone.”

He pulled back and searched her face. “Already?”

“Already.” She was a red-hot, throbbing, need-sex-now machine. Nicole fit his warm palm to her aching breast. “Let’s go.”

“Maybe I’m too good at this,” he mused, following her across the house to his starlight gray bedroom.

“No such thing.” She flung off her robe, climbed naked onto the bed, and splayed on the silk sheets. “I’m ready. Love me hard.”

His lips curved. He gripped his belt in one hand. “Maybe I’ll kiss you a little bit longer.”

She sucked in a breath in anticipation of his hot, wet mouth suctioning to her neck. Her collar. The swell of her tingling breast. Her tight, sensitive nipples.

She arched under his kisses, each delicious sensation crashing on top of her aching arousal. “Mm. Yes. Alex, yes!”

He took his time savoring her, kissing down her belly, insistent and slow, to her mons. His wide tongue caressed her slick, ready folds and treasured her clit. Her need swelled and spiked. She needed his cock more feverishly than she’d ever needed anything in her life.

She clamped his shoulders. “Alex, please!”

He eased her over the brink into a shuddering release, and then lazily pleasured her again until she was clawing at his broad shoulders and gasping. “More. You. Now.”

Alex’s lips curved. He undid his robe belt and shrugged out of the fabric, unveiling his fully nude form.

He was a miracle of rippling hard male. Hard-cut pectorals, abs that could crunch diamonds, Adonis handles that could etch glass.

Outside, he was perfect. Inside? Well…

He lowered over her, crunching those perfect abs, and fit his thick cockhead to her dripping-wet entrance.

And there he paused. A question flitted across his perfect features. “Did you…?”

She held her breath.

This was it. The moment where it all mattered. If he took her like this, skin to skin, with no secrets and no barriers, they performed the act of dragon marriage.

He was never going to get married. Never going to have dragonlets. She wasn’t his mate. This wasn’t true love.

Of course, she’d also once said she wasn’t dating anyone. Nobody was perfect. They were all a work in progress.

Did she want to work toward progress with him?

Nicole stroked his perfect-cut cheekbones. They’d gone through so much together, she and those gorgeous cheekbones. And the rest of the man too.

She smiled at her private joke.

He softened, pleased with her smile, reflecting her mood even if he didn’t understand the reason.

He was perfect.

For her.

“Yes,” she murmured. “You know I do.”

Alex slid into her, firmly burying himself to the hilt. He did too.

His cock satisfied the ache and strengthened her need, drawing from the well of life deep within her body, replenishing it with his ancient, unstoppable rhythm. They became one, male and female, dragon and mate.

The pleasure welled soul-deep and rose to the surface in an endless fizzy release. Nicole cried out with gratitude and love.

Alex’s mouth claimed hers, and he drove her into the mattress, rumbling deep in his chest, and he too cried out, releasing a torrent of passion within her womb that united them once and for all.

Tingles glistened in her veins like winking starlight. A moment later, tears sprang to her closed eyes, surprising her as always, but comforting too. Full-body satisfaction squeezed her in its loving embrace. Alex held her within his strong arms and shuddered. Their love was endless and infinite, beautiful forever.

She sniffed. “That was dragon marriage, huh? I said ‘I do’ so many times, I lost count.”

He squeezed her and then lifted up on his elbows, grinning down at her, cocky and gorgeous. “When I act, I’m thorough. I commit with no doubts.”

She returned his grin with a shaky, emotion-laden smile.

He rubbed the tears from her cheeks with his broad thumb. The worry he’d displayed had relaxed with familiarity. She had a wide open heart, and she wasn’t going to apologize for her feelings. Right now, her feelings were that she loved him so much. And she felt the warmth of his fragile love reaching back to her, accepting and growing.

He eased off her, helped her do a little cleanup just to be comfortable, and then snuggled her down in the sheets, so they relaxed in each other’s arms. They had a lot of sleep to make up for.

An alarm rang.

He sighed. “I’m not ready.”

“I’ll get it.” Nicole rolled over to the wall and hit the blowing button. “Is this your alarm?”

Alex scrambled. “No.”

The wall screen solidified to show his mother in her dragony glory.

Nicole squeaked and grabbed the blankets.

His mom squinted. “Alexandrite, I’ve just heard the most amazing story about you abandoning a female and…” Her heavy brow ridges lifted, and scaly cheeks stretched in a fang-filled smile. “Well. Are you then married to this female, Nicole? And Nicole, are you by now carrying my grand dragonlet?”

“Uh…maybe…” She pulled the gray satin up to her chin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to answer.”

“All is forgiven.” Alex’s mother waved her claws with a tinkling laugh. “Ah. Well. Never mind. You’ll have to come back to my place now that Darcy and Amber are free to go. Here is where all the lovely Earth females my dragonlets bring come to honeymoon.”

“They’re free?”

“Yes, I was calling to chastise you for what appears to be no reason, and to let you know that the new Empress has triumphed. You’ll never guess who.”

She waited eagerly.

Nicole and Alex shook their heads.

“We all expected an heir from House Adamantine because they are so strong,” his mother said, “but then Helvine became the unexpected front-runner with her virtually unknown co-fighter, Galena. You know there were so many heirs that they had to fight in teams, or else the battles would have taken even longer. Can you imagine? But then, the two finalists had to fight each other. In Helvine’s very moment of triumph, the crown was swept away by the least-trained heir, Galena! Of course, she is from House Palladium.”

“Palladium!” Nicole and Alex repeated at the same time.

“Yes, who knew? Of all the houses, Palladium would have been my last guess. Galena never even performed military service! Now she’s going to have to change her name to one of the house ancestors like we all do. Empress Deleterious or whatever. Ferocia lucked out. Not all of us can have ideally named ancestors. Anyway, I came to tell you that the new Empress has already put in her offer of marriage.”

“What?” Alex exclaimed, letting the sheet fall in shock. “But this Galena is not senile! She’s not remotely dead!”

“Indeed, she is the same age as your older sister Amber, and yet, so accomplished! Yes, she has tendered her offer of marriage. Not to you, my lovely Alexandrite, and I’m very glad to see that won’t break your warm, generous heart.”

“Warm, generous heart?” Nicole repeated.

“Yes, she’s offered to Flint if he will come to the Palace and beat out all her rivals. Well, I must go see how he succeeds. Flint always takes the more interesting route. Let me know when you’re coming, and I’ll put out the hot chocolate. Humans prefer it over coffee at bedtime.” His mother signed off.

“The new Empress’s house is Palladium,” Nicole repeated, settling against Alex on the padded headboard. “So nothing’s changed. The Empress took ownership of Earth before, and now her family has a legal reason.”

“And the new Empress has made an offer for Flint…”

“So she probably won’t change the treaty. She will have too much to take control of, like Iolite, to change anything now.”

Alex frowned. “Mm.”

“What?”

“I wonder.”

“Wonder what?”

“Is it possible that…five years ago—no, more than five—that Flint somehow planned all this out from the start?”

They were silent for long moments.

All the things that had happened. Their desperate attempts to save Earth. Depose Chrysotile. Change the world. Before that, what Darcy had told her about the hijinks-filled marriage quests of Alex’s brothers. The dragons choosing to come to Earth, of all places, and establish a clothier, of all things. Everything?

“Nah.” Alex hugged her. “Flint sees patterns. He’s not omniscient.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I think,” Alex muttered, and it was clear that he had a lingering question of just how much of Flint’s plan, if there was any, was left.

And who or what it entailed.

Would it succeed?

Or had it already run its course?

Was it, if possible, a failure?

Alex kissed her hair, and it didn’t take too much to convince her to snuggle back into the bed with him. The questions about his mysterious youngest brother who she’d only met on view screens in passing were for another day.

Nicole linked her ordinary hands with Alex’s beautiful, perfect fingers and let him tug her into a perfectly satisfied sleep.