Page 37

“It’s not.” The sun was still below the horizon.

Fergus’s smile could have powered the whole castle. He looked at Bram, who nodded.

I frowned. What were they—

They shifted to smoke, their clothes dropping to the ground in twin heaps.

I stumbled back.

The man-shaped column of smoke that used to be Fergus shivered, and I could have almost sworn it smiled. Then, without warning, both columns streaked upward.

I followed their ascent, my head tipped back and my heart racing. The columns continued to climb before splitting apart and streaking away from each other.

Then they burst into dragons.

My lips parted on a gasp. They were beautiful and enormous and a dozen other descriptors that deserted me as I marveled at their dance in the predawn sky. Fergus was a mix of silver and blue, whereas Bram was the solid, deep emerald of his eyes. Their bodies were long and sinuous, with spikes that ran from their heads to whipping tails that trailed behind them. It was hard to judge their size from the ground, but they were larger than the car behind me—probably bigger than the airplanes I occasionally saw pass over Krovnosta.

Yes, I thought, that was a good comparison. Their wings stretched as wide as the wings on those jets. But the dragons’ wings weren’t fixed or rigid. They bent and flexed as Bram and Fergus soared among the stars.

They dipped and wheeled, tracing patterns through the air as if they’d synchronized their movements. Their scales glittered like jewels in the moonlight, and sparks flew from their tails as they changed direction, streaking away from each other once more. Then, together, they released a stream of fire that lit up the sky and reflected in the distant loch.

The heat caressed my skin, wrapping around me like a warm blanket as the dragons swooped toward earth. Bram led, his wings flapping as he alighted on the courtyard’s cobblestones. Fergus touched down behind him. Smoke streamed from their nostrils. Two sets of reptilian eyes settled on me.

Power. There was no question these were the most dangerous creatures on the planet. Up close, their scales were like armor. Curved talons scraped the stones. I blinked at the sight of my body reflected in their glowing pupils. Just as my throat went dry with fear, they shifted to smoke. The black clouds streamed toward me, and then reformed into Bram and Fergus.

Nude Bram and Fergus.

The latter tossed me a puckish grin as he went to his clothes and pulled on his pants. “Apologies, lass. Nudity tends to be an occupational hazard for shifters.”

I waved a hand. “It’s nothing.”

He made a face. “Well, no’ nothing, I hope.”

I bit my lip. It certainly wasn’t—not for either of them. I’d seen Fergus in the buff more than once, but Bram… Well, he was large everywhere, and I was torn between relief and disappointment when he donned his pants once more.

My relief was short-lived, however, as the men strolled toward me barechested and limned in moonlight. The desire I’d struggled to suppress came roaring back, and this time I couldn’t blame it on bloodlust. Fergus was right: I wanted him simply for him.

But I was also attracted to Bram, and it was a struggle to keep my gaze off his broad chest as he and Fergus reached me.

“You know,” Fergus drawled, “it occurs to me you never answered my question back at the pub.”

It took me a minute to realize he spoke of the “twenty questions” game we’d played. “I didn’t realize you were keeping score.”

“Oh, I was. You were supposed to say when you need to drink from me again.”

“Who says she has to drink from you?” Bram asked.

Right away, my gaze went to his neck. Would he taste as good as Fergus? I wasn’t hungry yet, but my fangs ached nevertheless. I ducked my head and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

“What’s this?” In a flash, Bram seized my wrist in a light but firm grip, his gaze fastened on the back of my hand.

“Nothing. Just an old accident.” I tugged against his hold, but it was useless. His hand swallowed mine and his dark brows knit together as he studied the injury I’d carried since childhood.

“‘Tis old, aye, but this was no accident.” He lifted his eyes, and pain hovered in them. “I know a burn when I see one. I’m…familiar with what fire can do. And this was inflicted deliberately.”

The hair on my nape lifted. “How do you know that?”

He touched the waxy, rippled skin. “The burn stops here.” He drew a light fingertip across my wrist, making me shiver. “Fire will always climb. This was neatly done.” His voice went lower than I’d ever heard it. “It has the hallmark of torture.”