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We descended a set of stone steps and entered an enormous room with a cathedral ceiling and banners lining the walls. I wanted to gawk, but he tugged me along at a brisk pace, his long strides carrying us to a big wooden door.

“We can’t linger,” he said, pulling it open and gesturing me through. “It’s three hours to London, and we need the night sky for cover.”

Wait, I thought as we stepped into a darkened courtyard. The flight from Inverness to London was usually only an hour and a half. Why would it take three—

Oh.

A green dragon sat on the flagstones, its tail curled around its body.

When Lachlan mentioned seeing Scotland from the air, I assumed he meant via private jet. But it looked like we were flying Dragon Airlines.

Now I gawked. Every kid in New York City visited the Museum of Natural History at some point or another. I’d loved standing next to the dinosaur exhibits, marveling at how something that big could have existed.

But the dragon in front of me wasn’t a skeleton in a museum. It was alive and breathing, its massive chest rising and falling as it watched me with deep green eyes slit by vertical pupils. Its wings were tipped with curved claws as long and thick as a car. One flick and I’d be dead.

“Easy, lass,” Lachlan said, wrapping a warm arm around my shoulders. He raised his voice so it echoed across the courtyard. “Alec is a gentle beastie, aren’t you, lad?”

The dragon rolled its eyes—actually rolled them—then rose to its hind legs in a mass of glittering scales. A beat later, it blurred and formed into smoke. The roiling, concentrated mass streamed toward us, stopped, and shifted into a nude Alec, who slid an exasperated look from Lachlan to me.

“I fought in the Battle of Culloden, and this one still calls me lad.”

Lachlan snorted. “Talk to me when you’ve fought in the Battle of Hastings.”

“You watched the Battle of Hastings.”

“Aye, and if popcorn had existed, I would have settled down with a bag of the stuff. It’s always a good day when the English get their arses kicked.”

Alec groaned and spoke to me in a stage whisper. “Word of advice, don’t ever talk about the English in front of Lach. He won’t shut up for a week.”

“I won’t,” I said, fighting a smile. It was impossible not to be charmed by their banter.

“Ahh, there it is,” Alec said. “I’ve missed your smile, sweetheart.” His expression turned softer and more serious. “And I swear to you I won’t ever do anything to chase it away again.”

Oh my, that look. His eyes were the same shade of green as his dragon’s. My throat went dry, and my heart rate sped up.

He touched my cheek. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to make amends.”

All I could manage was a breathless “okay.”

His slow grin made butterflies flutter in my stomach. “You ready for the ride of your life?”

“I’m…not sure.”

“It’ll be fine,” Lachlan said, starting to strip. “You’ll ride with me.”

“Lach’s bigger,” Alec said, “so you’ll have more room to sit.” He winked. “But I’m faster.”

Lachlan’s response was a muffled growl as he pulled his sweater over his head. “We’ll see about that.”

Aboot. God, they were killing me.

In short order, I stood between two hulking, nude Scots, their muscled bodies gilded by moonlight.

Maybe I was already dead and this was Heaven.

Lachlan looked me up and down, his normally smooth forehead wrinkled. “It’ll be chilly in the air. Here, put this on.” He scooped his sweater from the ground and tugged it over my head like I was a toddler. Immediately, I was cocooned in Lachlan-scented wool from my neck to halfway past my knees.

“Och, let’s fix those sleeves,” Alec said, rolling them up. When he was finished, he stood back and nodded. “That’ll do. Now, let’s show you a side of Scotland most people never get to see.”