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CHAPTER 1

ZAIDE

T he acrid sting of smoke burned my eyes as I watched the two dragons—one shimmering green, the other blazing gold—twist and dive through the air. The green dragon’s wings beat furiously as it darted through the smoky haze, desperate to evade the relentless pursuit of the golden one.

While the green dragon’s identity was still a mystery, the golden one was Charlie, and gripping the scales on his back, her hair blowing wildly in the wind, was my soul pair. I couldn’t tear my gaze from them, my chest tightening with every swoop and near collision that endangered Clawdia’s precarious position.

Their figures grew smaller as they flew further and further away from our burning building. Only when they dipped out of sight, swallowed by the light of the setting sun, did the full weight of my helplessness crash over me, and the rising panic threatened to choke me like the thick soot smoldering on the roof.

Clawdia and Charlie chased the dragon away to protect us, but they were without our support, and we couldn’t follow them. I sucked in a shaky breath and prayed. Please stay safe until we can be together again.

I rubbed my streaming eyes and allowed all the chaos surrounding me to come back into focus. Magic flared in bright colors, and shouts from the task team and their leaders reached my ears as they attempted to stop the flames and smoke from reaching us.

“Arabella, help us with this water spell,” Elizabeth, Charlie’s birth mother, called from the small group of witches under Arabella’s task team leadership.

Four witches stood in the opposite corner of the rooftop, sweating and sooty, as they held their hands up to the sky like they were calling to the clouds for rain. Arabella dashed over from Alcor’s side to join them, and within moments, a droplet hit my face.

Alcor and Savida hovered over the blackened and still-smoking body of the protector, Sigurd, attempting to heal him with their fire. Their chants, although barely audible, should have been enough to heal someone, but with every passing moment, their voices rose, and their panic pushed their words faster. Yet there was no change to his body. It remained black, bloody, and motionless.

“Help us,” Daithi hissed, his green eyes bright and furious against the background of darkness and smoke.

His ire was another shock and forced me out of my frozen state and into action. I scrambled to kneel at the protector’s side, but as my gaze shifted to look for the lifelines in which I usually filled with power to heal, I found none.

Baelen joined me, placing a hand on my shoulder and announced solemnly, “He is dead. There is nothing else you can do.”

“No. No, that can’t be. We need him,” Danica, the task team leader for the vampires, cried out. She flicked her fangs out and suggested, “I can turn him.”

“He is gone,” Baelen repeated. “You can’t turn him without draining yourself to replace his blood loss, and no one expects that kind of sacrifice.”

As the rain got heavier, the flames sizzled out, and the smoldering rooftop crackled loudly while we acknowledged our failure to protect Sigurd and our failure to protect the realm by not bringing him back. Drenched and cold from raindrops that seemed to burrow under my skin, I hung my head in shame.

With Sigurd dead, the realm would be open to slavers from other realms. The human realm had already been under a steady influx of otherworlders portaling in and kidnapping humans and supernaturals alike. However, when Sigurd was revived, his essence protected the realm from portal creation.

Without him, the portals will reappear. People of the human realm will be taken by otherworlders…just as my people were taken. Just as I was taken.

I shuddered at the memory.

“There has to be a way to bring him back,” Robert, the demon task team leader, muttered.

Baelen’s eyes flared dangerously. “He can’t be revived. The dragon singed him alive like roast meat. If his lungs didn’t burn from the inside out and suffocate him, then the burning skin caused him to bleed to death in an instant. He is dead.”

“You control blood, don’t you?” Isaac, the shifter task team leader, asked as he hovered nearby. “Can’t you just put the blood back inside him? Won’t that help heal him?”

“It’s cold blood. The cells are already dead,” Baelen stated.

“Try,” Elizabeth whispered. No longer calling down the rain with the witches, she hovered over my other shoulder, dripping. “Please try.”

Baelen sighed heavily and clenched his eyes shut for a moment before exchanging a quick glance with me. “I will try, but I guarantee nothing.”

“A man who has already been revived three times previously may yet surprise us,” Elizabeth replied.

Arabella directed her witches, as well as other members of the task team, to ensure the entire building was no longer aflame, while Baelen frowned in concentration. The drying blood moved slowly, like a snake escaping its shedding. It curled around lazily until the rich red color returned and slithered back inside the protector’s body.

I waited for the lifelines to appear, but they didn’t. I peered at my mate.

“Did it work?” I whispered.

He shook his head and replied quietly, “I’m trying to work the blood back into his veins and restart his heart, but something is wrong. My power feels weaker.”

“Weaker?” My eyes grew wide and I wanted to demand he stop…but the stare of the others were like daggers pointed at our backs. They wouldn’t forgive us if we didn’t try everything we could to bring him back.

Clawdia did this once before. We can do it again.

“Savida, Alcor, continue your chanting,” I instructed, and the demons’ wings shuddered with anxiousness, but they did as I demanded.

I stared and attempted to switch my vision from seeing the health lines to the blood lines, and just as I glimpsed the dark red lines, almost overwhelming my vision, they were gone.

Baelen let out a gasp and clenched his fists. His jaw locked, and I opened my mouth to ask what happened but stopped when someone screamed and a small canister rolled across the rooftop.

“We’re under attack!” Robert shouted. “Task team, get down there and prevent entry.”

Above us, a small machine whirled, and another canister dropped.

A blinding flash made my vision turn white for a long moment, and a loud bang sent me flinching away from the unknown danger.

What is happening? What is the canister? What is the machine? Who is attacking?

My mind spun as my heart started pumping like crazy and I reached for Baelen’s hand to pull him down into a crouch with me.

My vision returned moments later but Baelen’s gaze seemed to have remained fixed on the body of the protector. Yet as I checked the body again, there was no change.

He’s still dead. We can’t risk our lives up here for the dead.

Daithi pulled a chanting Savida away and followed the task team down the stairs while I scooped up the protector. A canister bounced in front of me and exploded with light, blinding me yet again, but despite my white vision, I dragged Baelen along and stumbled toward the exit. The brickwork scratched my body, and the protector’s body, as I felt my way to the door.

I pushed Baelen ahead and slammed the door behind us just as another flash happened. I paused, panting and blinking, trying to get my vision back. As soon as the whiteness gave way to the sight of the darkened hallway, I glanced at Baelen since he was so silent and still.

He stared at the protector’s body in my arms, completely unaware of me or where we were.

“Baelen?” I asked, nudging him, but his gaze didn’t shift to meet mine, and he didn’t reply. My heart lurched as another bang echoed from outside, and without preamble, I threw him over my other shoulder and hurried down the stairs.

Elizabeth and the team leaders were packing their equipment and other goods into large bags and boxes. Through the windows, sparks of magic flared in colorful flashes, and the sound of howls, screams, and shots made it clear where the rest of the task team were.

Arabella searched for something in a bag and, without glancing up, called out, “Zaide, Daithi, Baelen, we need a portal out of here now.”

Indignation rose at Arabella’s inconsiderate order, but I gritted my teeth and shook my head as I lowered Baelen down and placed him against a wall. “Not possible. We are all drained from creating portals earlier. Don’t you have vehicles?”

She paused and looked over at me. “We’d have to battle our way out and risk being tracked by the hunters.”

It’s the hunters attacking us? How did they find us again so quickly?

“Your teams are not as powerless as we are. If I remember correctly, Charlie told you this was a possibility when you asked us to portal everyone away.” I placed Sigurd’s body on a table, ignoring her scowl, and continued, “We can’t further risk ourselves, especially if Clawdia and Charlie need our help.”

Isaac stroked Arabella’s arm, calming her. “We’ll get past the hunters. Maybe we can tag them and see where they go?”

Robert let out a laugh as he passed with a box. “Good idea. I’ll get the tags.”

They continued to gather their equipment quickly with the focus and calm that comes from having done it many times before, despite the sounds of battle from outside. But I was not calm or focused. Smoke hung in the air, stinging my nostrils, and I tapped my foot as I stared at Baelen and counted his blinks.

He still hadn’t looked away from Sigurd or spoken.

Is he still attempting to heal Sigurd? If he believed the protector couldn’t be saved, wouldn’t he have stopped by now? If I interrupt him, do I risk ruining his efforts?

The doors from the stairs burst open, and a member of the task team, a male with tiny horns on his head, ran inside, panting.

“We need to leave now. They’re trying to sabotage our cars, and many of us are too injured to continue fighting them off.”

“Get the injured in the cars and head to Safe House C. We’ll be right behind you,” Robert told the demon-kin and exchanged glances with the other team leaders, including Omaira, who descended from upstairs laden with bags. “Let’s go.”

Isaac turned into a giant wolf, startling me as a button from his shirt hit my head, and raced outside. The hunter’s screams quietened as the door closed behind him.

“Bring the body with us. We need them to think he’s still alive,” Arabella called as she handed heavy bags over to Daithi and Savida. “We’re going to run to the cars now.”

We’re leaving…but Charlie and Clawdia could come back. They won’t know what happened to us.

I tried to reach out to Clawdia to tell her what was happening, but our bond was dull, as though she were asleep.

How else can I tell them? Does Charlie have his phone? No, dragons don’t have phones.

Phone.

I raced to our shared room and picked up the bag of our meager belongings, which held Charlie’s phone. I did one last look around for anything essential before hurrying back to pick up Sigurd and grip Baelen’s wrist.

Despite holding the protector’s cooling body making me feel more ill by the moment, I tightened my grip as I chased after the last of the team leaving the building.

The overpowering metallic scent of blood stopped me in my tracks, and bile rose in my throat at the sight of bodies littering the ground in pools of red. The smell seemed to shock my mate back to his senses, and his fangs dropped with a sharp hiss.

“If you’re hungry, vampire, dig in,” Danica called to Baelen as her eyes flickered to a dark red and her tiny fangs dropped. She grabbed an injured hunter from the ground, one who was reaching for his gun, and bit into him with the swiftness of a serpent striking prey.

I swallowed thickly and looked at my soul mate. The portal creations weakened him before the attack, and he’d spent more power trying to heal the protector. His eyes were a swirling pool of reds as he looked at me. For permission? I wasn’t sure. I saw the hunger there but knew I couldn’t watch him feed like an animal. It brought back too many old memories. Too many fears.

One moment, he was next to me, and the next, he was gone. My hand clenched around air, and I searched for him but saw nothing.

Above the screams and chaos, I heard, “Get into the vehicle, Zaide!”

I turned at the sound of my name and spotted Daithi and Savida waving me toward the large black car with the door open while two hunters fought against an illusioned version of them. A wolf shifter, presumably Isaac, did the real job of pouncing on the males and tearing into their throats with a viciousness which surprised me.

Many of the dead hunters were only recognizable by the bow-and-arrow emblem on their black clothing. Others were still fighting, refusing to give up despite obvious injuries.

I hurried into the vehicle, placing the protector’s body on a seat next to me and watching as the wolf shifted with the sound of snapping bones into a naked Isaac. He opened the passenger door and threw himself inside while shouting, “Bella! Alcor! Time to haul ass!”

Arabella appeared in the driver’s seat like magic, and Alcor soon got into the back with Savida and Daithi.

“Wait, where’s Baelen?” I asked as Arabella started the engine. “Baelen!”

Outside the car, blood and bodies littered the ground, and the screaming stopped so suddenly that the following silence made my hair stand on end. Baelen was nowhere to be seen, and the other cars were already driving away.

Is he in another car? Why would he leave me?

The car door slammed shut, and Baelen appeared in the seat next to me in a blink. The relief I felt at the sight of him made me close my eyes for a moment and thank the gods. He’s used the invisibility ring to hide himself from me while feeding. The kind gesture made me feel grateful but also disgusted with myself.

He shouldn’t have to hide his nature from me. I should be able to see him feed without fear.

Arabella wasted no time in driving us away and following the others in a convoy speeding down the dark roads.

“Are you all right now?” I asked Baelen quietly.

He sighed and nodded.

At his obvious disappointment, I continued, hoping to reassure him, “There was nothing else you could have done. You tried your best, and the man was already dead before you could help him. Bringing him back would have required a miracle.”

Arabella heard my comment and asked, “Is he really dead? There’s nothing we can do?”

Alcor said blandly, “Not unless you have demon fire to sacrifice in a dark magic spell to raise him from the dead.” Everyone stiffened and peered at the demon, but he only stared back with the blank expression he’d worn since he lost his memories. “I was not suggesting we actually try that.”

Isaac let out a strained laugh and replied, “Of course not, bud. Good one.”

“You must be new to making jokes,” Daithi added as he scowled.

But there was something in Alcor’s eyes that made me question exactly how much he’d forgotten.

Baelen spoke, distracting me from the demon. “Leave the male to his eternal rest. He deserves it.”

Savida reached over the seat to pat Baelen’s shoulder. “I’m sorry we couldn’t save him.”

“As am I.” Baelen said in a toneless voice, his red eyes dull.

My eyebrows drew together in a frown. He wasn’t connected to the protector at all and hardly knew him, so why is he so distraught over his death?

Arabella’s voice was like a needle bursting a bubble around us. “Then the portals are open. Soon, otherworlders will steal our people again, and all the realms will be in danger from Fafnir.”

Daithi replied with a sudden twinkle in his eyes, “We need to warn the realms that Fafnir is a potential threat to them. Many won’t be guarding against portals. And those that do will be in even more danger.”

“What do you mean?” Isaac asked.

“Realms like Alfheimr have their own magic to ensure portals are created only in the center of large towns, whereupon the strangers can be investigated by the local authorities and given approval to travel. But if they are unaware of Fafnir’s power, he could devastate the entire town. We must warn them.”

I rolled my eyes. From the very beginning, Daithi wanted to leave the human realm to Fafnir’s devastation and escape to another realm, so it was not surprising that he was setting himself up with the honorable job of leaving and warning the others.

Arabella shook her head as she stopped at a red light. “I don’t think it’s immediately necessary. No one knows he is dead, so Fafnir won’t be looking to create a portal yet.”

“Fafnir might not, but all the otherworlders who have been attempting to travel will now be able to travel once more,” I replied darkly. “Humans and supernaturals will go missing again.”

“We’ll need to talk to the council about how we deal with that.”

I glanced at the corpse next to me and, for the first time, allowed myself to feel sorry for the protector, Sigurd, the legendary hero whose life was forever warped by duty. He lived as a hero, and even death couldn’t stop him from being called upon again and again.

“What about the protector?” I asked.

“What about him?”

“We should bury him. We should bury him where his family buried him and give him the honor of a fallen warrior.”

Arabella met my eyes in the mirror. “You’re right.” She turned to Isaac, “Contact the others. There’s no sign we are being followed, so we should make time to honor our fallen hero.”

Our convoy parked in a spot that was burned into my memory like a brand. The exact place where Mary killed Winnie and I almost lost my soul pair. Where I was transported to meet my gods in Tartarus, a place I hadn’t seen since my capture. And where Charlie saved Clawdia by becoming her witch.

As I stepped out of the car, I could almost see specks of blood in the shadows of the gravel. I swallowed thickly and caught Daithi’s green eyes. He nodded once, a show of understanding, and my shoulders relaxed ever so slightly. Daithi didn’t see Clawdia’s death, but he did almost lose Savida to the witches’ ceremony to raise Sigurd.

I gripped my prayer stone and sent a thought to my gods, thanking them for saving Clawdia that day and asking them to look after her now until we could be reunited.

Baelen assisted me as I pulled the protector from the car, and we all moved in a slow procession to the grave where his children had laid him.

The witches of the task team, although injured and drained, dug up the grave with their magic, piling the mud neatly at the side until the hole was deep enough to reach the remnants of the wooden burial box.

I lowered him into the hole, and the witches muttered something. A chant or prayer, I couldn’t say, but as they began pouring the mud back into the hole, Elizabeth said, “Thank you, Sigurd. You were called upon to defend the realm from invasive portals, and time and time again, you answered that call despite the pain and misery it caused you. Your sacrifice and commitment to your duty made the realm a safer place, and you did your best to defeat Fafnir. You won’t be called upon again, so please rest in eternal peace.”

We stood for a moment in the darkness, the lights from the cars too distant to reach us in this hidden grove, and listened to the sounds of the woodland.

“He really won’t be called again?” I asked quietly.

“We found the documents that stated his soul will be released back to the realms when given permission.”

I nodded my relief. What the witches called duty, I called eternal slavery, and as a former slave, I couldn’t imagine a worse fate than not escaping servitude, even in death. I was grateful he was finally free.

Cold washed over me as a sudden wind blew, and I closed my eyes as my skin pebbled.

A loud crash startled us, and as metal crunched and screamed, the small teams of shifters, vampires, and demon- kin, as well as Robert and Danica, ran toward the cars and immediately called back to the other leaders, “Hunters! They’ve found us.”