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“O to be a dragon, a symbol of the power of Heaven - of silkworm size or immense; at times invisible.”

—Marianne Moore, O To Be A Dragon

“Do you have enough underwear?”

This was the first and clearly most important question Lizzy’s mother, Serena, had to ask while Lizzy chatted with her on the phone in the middle of packing for her upcoming trip.

“I packed ten for a seven-day trip, Mom. Three extra are enough.”

Lizzy was an experienced traveler by now. It was one of the many things she loved about her vocation. She felt like a female Indiana Jones or a nerdy, much less athletic and buxom Lara Croft from Tomb Raider for all the exotic places her chosen profession took her to.

Even as a child, she loved to travel. Her small family nucleus had a tradition where they went to a new city every year for vacation. At first, it was just within the United States. Then, they extended the scope to North America. And finally, when she turned twelve, they explored places on other continents.

Lizzy’s parents were used to traveling. Before they settled down and she was born when both of them were close to forty, a miracle baby they didn’t expect, they’d gone to every continent together except for Antarctica.

David Winters had been a Captain in the navy before he decided to pursue a civilian life. Mainly because Serena discovered she was pregnant with severe complications. She had to be on bedrest for most of the pregnancy, and David’s first priority had always been his wife’s comfort, happiness and safety. He got her the best care and stayed by her side without fail.

And after all the wandering they’d done with the military, they had a hankering to settle down and grow some roots. With a baby on the way, the need for stability, community, consistent healthcare and great schools also influenced his decision.

Lizzy’s parents had met on one of David’s tours of duty in Asia. She was an English literature teacher in Taiwan. Apparently, it had been love at first sight. (When she was older, Lizzy asked her mom whether it was really lust at first sight. Serena had smiled coyly and said it was both.)

To witness the deep love and friendship between her parents growing up, Lizzy’s expectations for her own relationships with the opposite sex were understandably extremely high. Added to the wondrous dreams she’d been having since she was a teenager, she despaired that any real-world man could ever win her over.

But she was willing to wait for Mr. Right. She truly believed in The One. And she wasn’t willing to settle for anything less.

“Yes, but trans-oceanic flights require more diligent hygiene, Lizzy,” her mom was saying. “You never know when you might need a fresh pair.”

“Pretty sure there are ways to launder clothes, including panties, when I’m in Bangkok,” Lizzy said logically.

“Also, why does your ‘you never know’ remark sound so salacious? What do you expect will happen on these flights, Mom?” she teased.

Serena huffed, clearly exasperated with her only child.

“You know what I mean, Lizzy Rose,” she chided. “Get your head out of the gutter. Accidents happen in the most inconvenient places at the most inconvenient times. It never hurts to be prepared.”

Lizzy hummed in acknowledgement as she stuffed a few extra pairs of her granny cotton underwear into the suitcase. Fruit of the Loom mid-rise. She was amazed they still made them, because her mom wore them too.

“Besides, there could be happy accidents too,” her mother continued. “Like meeting a nice man and—”

“Mom, I know you’re not encouraging me to join the miles high club,” Lizzy gasped with mock astonishment.

“Lizzy! For goodness sakes. That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

She smiled, imagining her mom getting adorably pink-faced.

She shared this trait with her dad. They both loved to tease the normally serious and literal Serena Lin.

“It’s just that you should be open to meeting someone special and—”

“Have backup undies in case I cream them in fits of flaming lust?”

Her mother sputtered incoherently.

“I understand now,” Lizzy spoke over her. “Good point, Mom.”

“Stop teasing your mother, Lizzy,” her dad came on the phone, though she could hear his barely smothered chuckles.

“And if you do meet a man, you know the drill,” David said in his Captain voice, brooking no argument.

Lizzy rolled her eyes as she folded a few changes of summery clothes.

“Yes, Dad. Always be safe. Stay away from the players. Have them ready for your inspection at the first available opportunity,” she recited.

He grunted.

“And don’t make it easy, baby girl,” he advised. “A man has to work for something to value it right.”

“ You didn’t do much work,” Serena complained from the background.

“I sure did,” David could be heard replying in a low voice, though he was clearly talking away from the phone.

“It was just mostly done between the sheets.”

“David!” Lizzy’s mom squeaked.

There were more low murmurs from her dad, followed by her mom’s effervescent giggles.

Lizzy couldn’t help but grin.

She should be embarrassed that her parents, who were pushing seventy, still got it on, clearly, on a regular basis. But honestly, she was secretly cheering for them. She rather envied their relationship. While she knew she was loved unconditionally—no child could possibly ask for more—she was also keenly aware that her parents often existed in their own little world of two.

They were soulmates.

And that’s what Lizzy wanted too.

Her phone buzzed to notify her that someone was at her door.

“I gotta go, guys,” she called out to her parents.

“That’s probably Meg at the door. She’s here to pick up Howie and Carter.”

“Love you, dearest!” Serena said.

“Be good, baby girl,” David said.

“I always am,” Lizzy answered. “Love you both! Don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone.”

She ended the call on that note. It wasn’t just an offhanded comment. Her parents had a lot more fun than Lizzy did, starting with all the “work” they did between the sheets.

Lizzy, on the other hand, inherited her mother’s abundance of caution, seriousness, and calm logic. The nerdiness was all her own. And there was currently no “David” in her life to spice things up.

Maybe her best friend Meg was right, she was too picky. Her standards were too high. She ought to separate physical fun from emotional attachment.

Except, she couldn’t let go of any of her requirements. And she couldn’t imagine sex without a deeper connection. Mr. Purple was her “fun.” He was even sparkly, and everyone knew that anything that sparkled was oodles of fun.

“Hey Meg,” she greeted upon letting her in.

Howie bounded over to greet his second favorite human as well, meowing to be picked up.

“Hey big guy!” Meg cooed, obligingly cuddling him in her arms like a baby, and proceeded to make all kinds of nonsensical noises at the cat while he purred up a storm.

“I feel left out,” Lizzy deadpanned.

“Admit it, you’re just friends with me because of my ragdolls.”

Lizzy had convinced Meg to get a ragdoll from the same breeder, a female chocolate mitted aptly named Cleopatra.

Meg was a corporate lawyer engaged to a venture capital fund manager. They’d been together since college, and engaged for almost as long. But they didn’t seem to be in a rush to get married, and no kids were on the horizon.

To scratch that itch that Meg occasionally had—to have a small creature to pamper, she got a ragdoll. Except, as Lizzy warned her, female felines were meaner than males. (This might be true of any species, come to think of it.) But Cleo was apparently the exception. Probably because she was a big old belly rub slut, despite her haughty demeanor.

The cats often had playdates even when Lizzy wasn’t traveling. Since Meg lived in the apartment complex just a block down, it was very convenient.

“Of course, it’s why we’re friends,” Meg said readily. “You know I’m in love with Howie. If he wasn’t already married to Cleo, I’d marry him myself.”

“Married” was a bit of a stretch, given that all three cats had been fixed. But Howie and Cleo did seem to have a special relationship, with Carter being the third wheel.

“You want to marry a lazy, overweight cuddler?” Lizzy prodded.

“Those are not necessarily unattractive traits,” Meg said. “They kind of go together. A man who enjoys lazy naps on the weekends, who is substantial enough to hug like a teddy bear and who loves to cuddle on the couch and in bed? Sign me up!”

Howie meowed in agreement and purred even louder. Carter, as usual, came to see what the commotion was about, but made his observations from several feet away, hiding behind the corner of Lizzy’s couch.

“Thanks for taking care of my babies while I’m away,” Lizzy said.

“I’m the one thanking you,” Meg admonished. “You know I love having them over. Even Carter. You did leave them to me in your will, right? Just in case.”

Lizzy gave her the side eye.

“I love that you’re thinking ahead, in case I should meet my demise unexpectedly on one of these trips.”

“You bet,” Meg said, and she didn’t even seem to be joking.

“So where are you off to this time?”

“Bangkok.”

“Wow. So jealous,” Meg gushed. “Wish I could go with you. My work is the opposite of fun and adventure.”

“But you love it just the same,” Lizzy said. “I don’t know anyone who enjoys fine print on reams of pages in a language so convoluted even computers couldn’t decipher more than you.”

Meg sighed.

“It’s true. I’m the sort who even loves reading ingredients on the back of a cereal box. I read every instruction manual, word for word, twice , and I soak it all in. My super power is to digest the incomprehensible lingo and spit it out in layman’s terms. It’s like a giant puzzle to me, and you know how much I love puzzles.”

“You could have been a brilliant archeologist,” Lizzy said, more than once.

“Nah,” Meg replied.

“I don’t like rocks and dirt. Am horrible with languages. And most of all, I like the pay in my profession. What can I say, I need the finer things in life.”

By finer, she meant expensive. Everything Meg owned was branded. There was no comparison between Lizzy’s one-bedroom, reasonable-rent apartment to Meg’s veritable mansion of three floors and four-thousand square-feet, uber modern décor, her own rooftop terrace, and two indoor parking spaces. She said she fell in love with her fiancé Steve because he reminded her of Warren Buffet.

“But I wouldn’t mind going to Bangkok,” Meg continued. “You’re staying at some swanky hotel, right? This is a luxury conference, not one of your ancient site digs?”

Lizzy nodded.

“The Quarter Chaophraya. It’s located in the heart of the Chao Phraya River and Klong San district. I hear it’s beautiful and lavish. I couldn’t possibly afford it if the trip wasn’t already paid for.”

“How did you get invited in the first place?”

Lizzy knew that Meg wasn’t disparaging her in any way; Lizzy simply wasn’t the type to attend these sorts of events.

Even when there was the opportunity, she’d always declined. She preferred to be in the field amongst the rocks and dirt, as Meg so eloquently put it.

“Over thirty years ago, a British writer named Graham Hancock made a TV series on his pseudo-archaeological theories about the existence of advanced civilizations during the last ice age,” Lizzy explained.

“It stirred up a bunch of drama within academic circles at the time. No one with any real credentials took him seriously, but the theories were fodder for cinematic creativity. Recently, those theories have been stirred up again with all the novels and TV shows alluding to lost civilizations and races of giants who ruled them.”

“What does that have to do with you?” Meg asked, now petting Carter who had cautiously approached as she sat cross-legged on the floor to make herself more accessible.

Lizzy arched a brow at her.

“You do know what my research is about, don’t you? I’ve only told you a hundred times.”

“Don’t exaggerate,” Meg batted back. “You tell me a lot; I can’t process it all.”

“And yet you can recite cereal ingredients.”

“What can I say, my brain works in mysterious ways,” Meg quipped. “But I do seem to recall you saying something about dragons.”

“Yes, dragons,” Lizzy confirmed.

“I just published a series of articles more or less confirming what Hancock stumbled upon—not entirely, but enough—and the academic community is all in uproar again. Even more unbelievably, I’ve added dragons to the equation.”

“Flying lizards with bat wings,” Meg described with elevated eyebrows, clearly not believing any of it.

“Actually, they’re not lizards.,” Lizzy said. “Dragons are a mix of serpent, raptor, feline, and all kinds of other animals. Every dragon is unique. They are their own species unto themselves. I don’t know why people believe in dinosaurs but not dragons. You could even argue they’re one and the same, just evolved to look different over time.”

“Yeah but dinosaurs don’t breathe fire,” Meg pointed out.

“Well, I never said dragons did,” Lizzy hedged (though she did think it could be possible). “But there were dinosaurs who likely emitted or spewed poison.”

“Dinosaurs aren’t magical,” Meg argued.

“I think evolution itself is pretty magical,” Lizzy said. “Look how much the earth has changed over time. Look how far human civilization has come versus the stone age. One could argue that modern science and technology are magical. What defines ‘magic’ anyway?”

Meg narrowed her eyes at her.

“You could have been a lawyer.”

“Nah,” Lizzy batted back, in the same tone that Meg used before.

“I don’t like tiny-print font. Desk jobs. And I’m allergic to money. Too much of it, and I break out in hives.”

They grinned at each other.

As Meg packed up all the necessary kitty stuff to ensure Howie and Carter’s happiness in their week-long retreat at the Murphy Mansion, she threw out some final advice.

“Try not to reject every man who tries to talk to you, okay? It doesn’t hurt to flirt a little. Put yourself out there a little.”

“I don’t reject men out of hand,” Lizzy argued.

“And you act like I’m some sort of man-magnet, which can’t be further from the truth.”

Meg cocked her head and regarded her friend, scanning her from head to toe.

“You’re quite pretty if you made a little effort,” she said. “Especially if you didn’t have that resting bitch face and smiled more.”

“I do not have a resting bitch face.”

“You do. You’re intellectually intimidating even before you start spewing big words about your favorite subject. You gotta learn to engage in small talk.”

“Superficial conversations are a waste of time,” Lizzy complained.

“That,” Meg pointed a finger at her on the way out.

“That right there. Stop that. Not everyone wants to peel back their skin and expose their souls on the first meet and greet.”

“Then they’re not right for me,” Lizzy said. “I’m perfectly happy without small talk and casual relationships.”

Meg shook her head in despair at her misguided friend.

“I feel like the kind of man who’d catch your interest is even rarer than the dragons you believe in, Lizzy.”

Lizzy grinned, unperturbed.

“But can you imagine what it’d be like when I finally find him?”

“What?”

“Beyond magical.”

“Beyond reality, more like,” Meg muttered.

They hugged goodbyes, her friend leaving Lizzy to the rest of her packing in peace.

Lizzy smiled.

She wouldn’t lower her expectations. She didn’t mind dreaming big.

After all, that’s why they were dreams.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Dr. Elizabeth Rose Winters.

Yes, Ben knew her middle name too. He had resources in critical places, namely Devlin Sinclair, the Hunter of King Ramses’ Chosen. He and his Blooded Mate, Grace, were tech wizzes. With a few taps of the keyboard, Devlin had pulled up Dr. Winters’ entire history and personal stats.

Ben might have felt a twinge of conscience for prying this way, but he had to know. Besides, she was supposed to help with his cover and guide him to the nine dragon eggs.

Elizabeth, known as Lizzy to her friends and family, would turn thirty on February 5 th , in precisely two days time. She lived in a one-bedroom apartment in downtown Omaha, Nebraska, and traveled at least four months out of every year to exotic places around the world.

This would be her first time in Thailand, however.

(In this incarnation, Ben added to himself).

She lived with two cats, and her parents were within an hour’s drive. Both sets of grandparents were deceased. No known extended relatives. David Winters was retired military, now teaching engineering at the community college, while Serena Lin taught English literature at the same school, just as she did before she got married and emigrated to the States from Taiwan.

The pictures of Dr. Winters were surprisingly few, especially in this age of digital media and oversharing. She didn’t own any online social accounts, only a work and personal email. One picture was a candid snap of her and colleagues on a dig. Half her face was covered with a scarf, the rest was smudged with dirt. But she was laughing at something her coworker said, and her white teeth flashed dazzlingly against her tan. Deep lines radiated from the corners of her eyes, as if she squinted against the sun a lot, or laughed a lot. Likely both, if the picture was any clue.

Ben liked her right away.

Elizabeth Winters seemed to have a zest for life. She obviously enjoyed her profession and wasn’t afraid to roll up her sleeves. It was hard to tell the color of her eyes in the shade of her hat, but he could see the sparkles in them very clearly.

The only other picture was taken from a good distance away, against the backdrop of the Great Pyramid of Giza at sunset. She was a lone figure standing tall before awe-inspiring greatness.

She looked right at home.

Ben whiled away the long flight from NYC to Bangkok reading up on all of her research. She was really onto something, even though almost all of the academic community snubbed their nose at her work. A few came right out and lambasted her for being fanciful and frivolous, not even bothering to follow her logic.

Ben followed it just fine. He’d lived some of it, after all. He’d been one of the “giants” during the Age of the Gods. He’d experienced that ancient civilization amongst magical beings firsthand.

Dr. Winters was as brilliant as she was beautiful. Ben knew she was beautiful, despite not having a clear picture of her. It wasn’t about how she looked. It was her very aura and presence. If he felt her beauty through a blurry photo with the force of a physical impact, what would she be like in person?

Ben tried not to hope.

What were the chances…

The flight attendant came by with his drink and a snack. He looked across the aisle at his travel companions—Rui and Wolfe, a water dragon and a celestial dragon. Destined Mates.

Rui was also a treasure dragon, though arguably, all dragons had an affinity for treasure. Myths and legends always contained a kernel of truth. She was particularly adept at finding things. And, too, with her exotic Asian features, she fit right in where they were headed.

Ben was glad it was Rui and Wolfe who accompanied him, and not another more talkative pair (read: Ere’s half of Ere and Sorin, or Annie’s half of Annie and Merlin). He wasn’t in the mood to socialize, though he could turn on the charm like the best of them. He was too lost in his own thoughts.

His own dreams.

It had been thirty years since Seven disappeared from his world. But never from his heart, mind and soul.

With her parting words, he knew she’d been freeing him. She wanted him to find happiness and love, even if it was without her. She wanted him to know that her love would last beyond death, beyond time. That, no matter what, he had it. There was no question. No doubt.

When he’d spent all of his previous incarnations, spanning tens of thousands of years, doubting, her final words had meant everything. They’d healed him from the inside out. He hadn’t even realized just how deeply wounded he’d been until then.

And that was when he lost her.

In the thirty years since, Ben’s days had been full. His heart and soul were full too, even if his arms were always empty. But his mind comforted him with vivid memories. Both the good and the bittersweet—

Of the time when he was the first-ever Tiger King and she was a goddess. When he was a leopard Beast and she was a fox spirit in a Pure One skin. And finally, when she was human and so was he.

How they’d come together in all their imperfect humanness. How they’d been each other’s first kiss, first touch, first everything.

At the ripe old age of almost thirty, he’d had one night of love. But that one night was worth an eternity. The memories of it had sustained him for the next thirty years.

And then, there were his dreams.

He didn’t know whether the woman in his dreams was real or if she was simply a figment of his imagination. A coalescence of his desire and need. Not just of the body, but of mind, heart and soul as well.

He yearned for his soulmate. He would never stop yearning. And though she’d freed him to pursue happiness in whatever form and with whoever he chose, his choice would always be her . He was created, wished into being, according to Seven, for her .

But he grew his own soul, and that soul Fell for Seven’s soul, despite or because of all her imperfections, the good and the bad. The promise of limitless light, and the threat of immense darkness.

He knew who she was in the best and worst times. He loved her still.

There had been moments, ephemeral moments, across these thirty years, that he’d sensed her. He could never be sure, but he hoped and wished and prayed that there were still remnants of her magic in the universe.

She’d promised to find him again. He’d promised himself to find her too. He had to believe in it, or his heart and soul would wither and die. And as he was still solidly of this world, a bonified Immortal, a dragon , his hope lived too.

“Ben, may I ask a question?” Rui said, leaning across the aisle.

She was always unfailingly proper and polite, except when Ere exasperated her, as he always did when they were together.

But Ben couldn’t blame her. Ere exasperated everyone.

“Of course.”

“Are we simply intercepting this Dr. Winters in Bangkok, or do you suspect there is an egg nearby?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me on the latter,” Ben replied, “harnessing your unique skills. And perhaps Dr. Winters will help there as well. Ryu said that two of the eggs were in Asia, two on Islands in the Mediterranean and Caribbean seas, two in the Middle East, one in Africa, one in South America, and one in North America.”

“I’m surprised Ramses hasn’t already taken possession of the one in his own territory,” Wolfe interjected.

“Not without disturbing the peace and uneasy truce with the associated Hive,” Ben said. “That’s why he needs our involvement. And why we’re leveraging official human research as a cover.”

Wolfe shook his head.

“It amazes me that modern humans have embraced science to such a degree as to forget entirely all the magic in the world. It wasn’t so long ago that we believed in dragons and sorcery. And prayed to many pantheons of gods.”

Wolfe used to be a dragon hunter during the Dark Ages of Britain before Rui showed him the error of his ways. He knew about monsters and magic firsthand.

“Well, for the secrecy of the Immortal Kinds, I am glad for their ignorance,” Ben said. “As much as I believe in the goodness of humanity, I know there is plenty of evil too. Power in the wrong hands becomes weapons of mass destruction.”

Rui cocked her head at him and blinked those eerie, almond-shaped lapis lazuli eyes in consideration.

“You are practically vibrating with energy, Benjamin. I have rarely seen you so eager in all the years I’ve known you. Immortality suits you well. You have an old soul. But right now, you look like an excited boy. What is it about this trip that’s gotten you so wired?”

Only when she pointed this out did Ben realize that he’d been bouncing his knee restlessly, and tapping his fingers on his leg.

He stopped abruptly, a little self-conscious.

Rui didn’t relieve him of her penetrating stare.

He could feel hot color rising into his cheeks.

“It’s nothing,” he brushed aside.

“Just been a while since I’ve undertaken a quest of some sort, that’s all. The regular dragon duties of getting unruly Immortals under control aren’t all that interesting. I’m looking forward to leveraging my own academic training in the search for these eggs.”

“Aren’t you excited?” he asked of Rui, trying to shift the focus off himself. “When was the last time you went on a treasure hunt?”

Rui gave him a look that said she didn’t believe that was all of it, but as a treasure dragon, she couldn’t deny her own rising glee.

“Indeed. I am fair bursting with anticipation,” she intoned without inflection.

But Ben knew she meant it.

Ten hours later, they arrived in Bangkok and checked into the hotel where the conference was being held.

Ben couldn’t help the sense of déjà vu. It was the exact same hotel he’d stayed at thirty years ago. Since then, he’d returned to Thailand several times. He traveled far and wide for his official and unofficial jobs, and he enjoyed it. Always wanted to do it. But he’d never stayed at this hotel again.

Until now.

Memories of his last stay here bombarded him, as vivid as if they happened just yesterday.

He looked at his room number. And was startled to see that it was the same as before.

What were the odds?

He stared at the numbers until they began to swim before his eyes. Could his mind be playing tricks on him? It was thirty years ago. None of the employees still worked here, he would bet. No one could know he’d stayed here before and in that particular suite. Unless it was in the digital records, and they gave the same room to him by coincidence since he’d enjoyed his stay so much the last time.

Yes, that must be it. After all, the receptionist did say, “Welcome back, Mr. D’Angelo.”

But if they bothered to do the math on whatever date his previous stay was, they’d wonder why he wasn’t sixty years old.

Well, he was. He just didn’t look it.

He and his friends parted ways for the night, retiring to their respective rooms to sleep off the jet lag. Even Immortals weren’t completely immune to it, though they were safe from human diseases, most poisons and healed extremely fast, hence the appearance of eternal youth.

But Ben merely took a shower and came right back out. He was indeed restless, practically bursting with energy, like Rui said.

Was she here already? When would she arrive if not?

All of the conference attendees were staying at the same hotel. It was blocked for this very purpose. Would he run into her in the hallways? In the lobby? At one of the restaurants within and nearby?

His heart pounded with agitation within its cage. He wanted to find her right fucking now . It must be her.

It must be!

Elizabeth Rose Winters.

Lizzy.

How long he’d waited.

How desperately he’d missed her.