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“Croygen…”

“It’s called that not only because of the size, but since dragons used to inhabit those caves at one time.”

“But they’ve been extinct for a long time now.”

“Yes.” He licked his lip, pulling my attention for a second. “However, their magic lingered in the places they lived.”

“If you could get to the point quicker, Professor Croygen.”

His gaze skipped to me, heat flaring in his eyes at the moniker, causing me to look away again, my head spinning.

What the hell was wrong with me?

“What are dragons known for?” He probed me.

“Collecting treasure.”

“Fuzanglon.”Treasure dragon. “Deep in their caves, they hid and protected treasure, their magic shrouding their horde from the world finding it.”

Understanding dumped down on me. “And if their magic still lingers in those caves…”

He grinned when I got it.

“What a perfect place to hide one of the most sought-after objects in the world from others.”

“Holy shit,” I muttered.

A door banged. Men’s and women’s voices echoed in the building, and unsteady footsteps could be heard coming down the hall.

“Hoooppee yooou didn’t foorgett thhee sppell,” an Australian accented voice slurred right outside the door, followed by a woman’s drunken giggle. I could sense four of them out there, smelling the whiff of the women’s perfume and the smell of cheap beer and tobacco.

They had come back… with friends.

Fuck.

Panic dumped down on me, my wide eyes catching Croygen’s, the same alarm on his face.

The rustling of a wrapper drew our attention to the monkey over by the camping gear, not at the door where he was supposed to be on watch, stuffing a granola bar into his mouth.

“Sprig!” Croygen hissed.

“What? I got bored.” He munched on his treat, holding it up. “But look what I found. It has honey in it.”

“I’m going to kill that mole rat,” Croygen sneered as the doorknob wiggled, another man’s voice slurring over an incantation to unlock the door, sounding like nothing but gibberish, not noticing the spell was already broken.

The doorknob twisted. There was no way to get to the exit and off the balcony before they entered.

The instinct to shift tingled over my skin as Croygen grabbed me, yanking me down with him under the twin bed. His body rolled into mine, the twin bed high enough but barely wide enough to hide us.

“Sprig?” I mouthed, worried he would be caught.

Croygen shook his head, his muttering barely audible. “He’ll be fine.”

He was so tiny he could hide anywhere, probably in one of the men’s packs, finding another power bar.

The two men and two women stumbled into the room, so drunk they knocked into the furniture.

“Oops…” The tiger shark-shifter tumbled onto the bed above us, laughing, dipping the springs into Croygen’s back.