by Anna Lowe
Laura took another deep breath, paused, then exhaled, producing a six-inch spout of fire.
“Not bad.”
“Not bad?” She flapped her wings at him. “Not bad? That was amazing. I just breathed fire. Wait, wait. Let me try again.”
Over the next few minutes, she produced several more spurts, each bigger than the last. Still, nothing that would impress a seasoned dragon.
“Picture Fausto,” Marco suggested.
And, whoosh! Her next effort produced a twelve-foot inferno.
Marco ducked out of range, then came up beside her.
Laura beamed. “Did you see that?” Then she glowered. “If you tell me not bad, I’ll roast you.”
He shook his head and used one of her favorite words. “That was amazing.” She was amazing. Did she even know it?
Fire Maiden, his dragon whispered.
Marco looked up and down her long, coppery body. The more he flew with Laura, the more he suspected it. Her body color was one indication. The spelled gem was another clue, and the speed with which she learned complex maneuvers was yet another. She might not be aware of any royal roots, but who knew? A chance encounter here or there could have produced unexpected offspring. One or both sides of Laura’s family could have royal heritage without knowing it.
And if she was a Fire Maiden…
He frowned, picturing the consequences. Any day, Quintus, the alpha dragon of Madeira, would come along to inquire about the stranger Marco had brought to their island. Quintus was always eager to demonstrate independence from the Guardians of Lisbon. A Fire Maiden would be the ace every shifter clan wanted, though their poker faces would never give away how desperately they sought her power. Laura would become a pawn. A puppet. A jewel in their crowns.
Not if I can help it, his dragon snarled.
That was all well and good, but Quintus — and Afonso of the mainland Guardians — commanded entire battalions. Marco was only one love-struck dragon.
Then we’ll make an army of one, his dragon declared.
His dark thoughts must have shown, because Laura drooped. “Not a strong enough flame on that one?”
He shook his head quickly. “That was outstanding. Now, let’s combine breathing fire with the combat moves I taught you last night.”
She watched as he demonstrated a simple roll and dive, ending with a spurt of fire. Then he angled away sharply and glided back to her side.
“Inhale on the roll, and heat that breath as you dive. Then let it out as you pick up speed.”
She nodded, rocking slightly as she pictured each step. “Inhale on the roll… Hold on the dive… Pick up speed…”
“The trick is to cut away before you fly into your own fire,” he added.
Her eyes went wide.
He flapped his wings, hurrying her up. Laura did better when she didn’t overthink. “Ready? Go!”
The roll she tumbled into was clumsy. Her dive was much too shallow. And the flame she spat was barely ten centimeters long. But it was a start.
It was great, his dragon crooned. Quick, say something nice.
“Good. You just need to throw yourself into the roll to build momentum.”
She stared. “And crash into the ocean?”
“It’s just water. There’s a reason we’re not practicing over the mountains.”
She eyed the island’s craggy cliffs. “No way am I ever doing this over land.”
He jutted his chin. “Try again.”
To her credit, she did. Again and again and again.
“Up a little. This side.” Marco tapped Laura’s wingtip with his. “And your tail needs to come a little more to this side before it whips around.”
He extended his tail along hers, guiding it into position.
I like this position, his dragon hummed.
Too late, he realized how closely it resembled dragon foreplay. But, damn. He could barely tear himself away. Their bodies brushed, and his wings cupped hers from above. Their tails danced, and his soul sang.
It had been years since he’d been with a woman. Years since he’d even been tempted. But now, desire flared in his soul.
Laura kept her body nice and close to his, sending all kinds of reciprocal messages. I want you, her body whispered as her tail curled around his. The air coming off her wings heated, and the top of her head nestled under his chin. I need you, too.
All those signals came in loud and clear, but they were instinctive, not deliberate. Plus, aerial sex was purely for pros. But someday…
With a choke of a breath, Marco forced himself to glide clear. Then he motioned gently.
“All right. You’re ready to try again.”
Her eyes met his, and in them, he saw the same burning desire he felt. The same regret, and the same determination not to step over the teacher-student line.
Then, with three hard wingbeats, Laura raced forward, preparing to execute her move.
Marco was about to call Ready? Go! when a shadow flickered over his shoulder. Before he could react, a huge black dragon soared past him, heading directly for Laura.
“Laura!” Marco roared as a pleasant evening turned to one of abject terror. Somehow, he’d let down his guard, and Laura was about to pay the ultimate price.
No! he yelled, rushing at her attacker. The black dragon extended its claws, ready to shred Laura’s wings.
Laura screamed, and while that helpless cry sliced Marco’s heart, her movements made him proud. In one smooth motion, she rose, rolled, then dove, spitting fire.
The black dragon dodged her, hollering. Then he turned and faced them, scooping his wings in a dragon sign of surrender.
“Oi. Watch it! It’s me.”
Marco stared. He’d know that brogue anywhere. “Finn?”
Laura hurried to Marco’s side and peered over his shoulder. “Are you sure?”
Yes, that was definitely Finn, his friend and comrade. One he was about to kill. Prank attacks were fine among friends, but not with Laura.
Nobody surprises my mate, Marco growled into his friend’s mind. No one.
Finn’s eyes went wide, and he looked between Marco and Laura.
Oops. Marco bellowed, partly to distract his friend. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Just testing your new recruit. Well done, lass.” Finn winked at Laura.
“Um, thanks?”
Marco gnashed his teeth. Laura had reacted well. But Finn had nearly given him a heart attack — and revealed just how complacent he’d become. If that had been one of Quintus’s men…
He cursed Finn, then himself. “I’ll do the testing around here.”
“Right.” Finn grinned, which only infuriated Marco more. That was the problem with friends. They could make you mad as hell, but you still couldn’t torch their hides.
“Lesson over.” Marco flicked his tail, heading for home.
Laura followed just off his right wing, and Finn…
Marco executed the quickest roll-dive-rise of his life, cutting in before Finn could move into position beside Laura. That put Marco in the middle again, not so subtly shielding Laura from his friend.
Well, well, Finn murmured. Has your rock of a heart finally crumbled?
Marco hmpfed into Finn’s mind. My heart was never a rock. I simply kept it well armored.
Finn chuckled. Not well enough for this lass, it seems.
I’m just training her, dammit.
Finn snorted. Just training. Sure.
“Did you fly in just now?” Laura asked Finn, oblivious to their private exchange.
Finn chortled. “Unlike you two, I took a commercial flight. I left my things at Marco’s place and flew out to meet you.” He tipped his head toward Laura. “Well done for making it all the way out here on your own wingpower. I don’t know too many dragons — experienced dragons, let alone greenhorns — who would attempt it. Including me.”
“We didn’t have much choice.” Laura’s tone was casual, but Marco saw her lips curl into
a tiny smile.
For a few minutes, they flew in silence, with Marco watching carefully to see how well Laura read the wind.
His dragon nodded a moment later when she anticipated a side gust, handling it with a tiny flick of her wing. Finn, on the other hand, bobbled. Madeira was notorious for its gusty, swirling winds, but Laura was handling it all like a local.
For the next heart-thumping minute, Marco’s mind ran away with wild fantasies. Like him and Laura living the good life in Madeira. Or him and Laura commuting between Lisbon and Madeira as the mood struck them. Grilling up a fine espetada — meat skewered on laurel — as the sun went down, sipping sweet maracuja liqueur while counting stars. Then they would fly, just the two of them. No Finn, no training, no fighting. Just for fun. After dinner, they would tumble into bed and—
He cleared his throat with a puff of fire, trying to block those inappropriate thoughts.
Laura turned to Finn. “Marco said you and Amit were looking into some archives. Did you find anything on my family?”
“Not a thing. Dozens of Sampaos and Cardosas left Portugal around the time your grandparents did, and it’s impossible to tell if any were shifters, let alone dragon nobility. Most were just plain humans.”
Marco scowled. Laura wasn’t plain anything.
“In a way, it doesn’t matter. Any fool can see you’re a dragon.”
Finn laughed, but Marco saw the way Finn’s eyes drifted over Laura’s hide. Any fool could see she had royal lineage. The question was, how much, and from which clan? Was she related to the great Queen Liviana?
The lights dotting the coast of Madeira grew brighter, and eventually, they came in for landing. Marco touched down first, then waved Finn to join him in the open patch of ground between the vineyard and his home. When they both shifted to human form, Finn smacked him on the back.
“Good to see you again. I did promise to make it to Madeira, didn’t I?”
“You did. And it’s great to have you here.” Marco gripped his friend by both shoulders. “But if you ever sneak up on Laura again, I’ll kill you.”
He meant it as half a joke, but he couldn’t help his voice from dropping to a threat.
“I’m going to enjoy this visit — in more ways than one.” Finn laughed then scanned the sky. “Where’s Laura?”
Marco sighed. “You’ll see.”
Just about the only thing Laura hadn’t caught on to yet was the art of landing. Marco looked up at the dark shadow swooping in and muttered under his breath. “Come on… Come on…”
Finn winced. “Oi. Lift your back foot, lass.”
Laura had lined up her landing perfectly, but her left foot popped out for landing before the right. That threw her body off-balance, and a moment later, she tumbled to the ground, crashing and bashing through the bushes ringing the vineyard.
“She’s still working on landing.” Marco sighed.
“I see.” Finn’s eyes sparkled. “And also working on your ice cube of a heart?”
Marco stiffened. “What makes you say that?”
“For a man who’s sworn off women, you’re taking an awfully personal interest.”
“Nothing personal about it.”
But that was a lie, and he knew it.
Leaves shook, and muffled curses — in Laura’s human voice — drifted through the air. Her tough dragon hide would have protected her from scrapes and bruises, but her pride would be hurt, Marco knew. Plus, she would be naked, and he wasn’t about to let Finn glimpse that.
He shooed his friend toward the guesthouse at the far edge of the vineyard. “Go on. Get dressed already.”
Finn laughed. “Suddenly, you’re a gentleman.” Still, he sauntered away.
“Drinks on the patio in twenty minutes.”
“Perfect,” Finn called.
Marco watched his friend disappear down the path before shaking out the clothes he’d stashed earlier. He heard Laura enter through the gate and pad to her room through a side door. Soon, she would appear at the poolside, ready for an après-flight drink. It was a little ritual they’d developed over the past few days. One he’d come to enjoy more and more.
He ran a hand through his hair. Boy, was he in deep.
Inés wasn’t making it any easier, that was for sure. The housekeeper had worked her behind-the-scenes magic again, setting the table with drinks for three, not two. She had also set a rose at Marco’s spot, no doubt hoping he’d tuck it behind Laura’s ear or some other ridiculously romantic gesture. Still, he smiled a little as he twirled it in his fingers.
Then he frowned, because there was a message beside his glass — a sheet of parchment folded and sealed with wax. Ice ran through his veins, because the only islanders who bothered with such outdated traditions were the dragons of Madeira.
He slipped his finger in the fold and broke the seal, then read.
“Quintus,” he cursed a moment later.
Technically, the letter had been penned by Isabella, the old dragon’s mate, but the message had Quintus’s hand all over it.
Dona Isabella and Dom Quintus request the honor of your presence at a soirée hosted in their home…
Request was dragon code for require. Soirée, on the other hand, could mean anything from a small circle of friends to a firing squad. The only thing that invitation wasn’t, was innocent. Quintus had given Marco the blessing of a few days of peace and quiet, but now, the old man was calling him in.
Your companions, of course, are also invited…
That was code for Bring them, or else. Marco took a sip of port, trying to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. Obviously, Quintus had been observing him.
Well, fine. He’d been expecting as much. The time to face Quintus had come.
A soft step sounded behind Marco, and he whirled as Laura stepped out of the house. She was wearing a strappy green sundress, and her eyes glowed the way his did — with the soft, happy glow of love.
God, she was beautiful. And, damn. Still vulnerable, despite all she had learned.
She glanced at the note in his hand. “Bad news?”
“Nothing I didn’t expect. It’s Quintus.”
Her eyes went wide. “Quintus?”
Marco nodded, trying to strike a casual tone while he filled three glasses with the vineyard’s best wine.
“Never mind. We’re prepared.”
“Are we?” She gulped.
He raised his glass to hers and nodded firmly. “Yes, we are. Besides, it’s time to see what allies I still have on this island…and what enemies.”
Chapter Eleven
“So,” Laura ventured as Marco steered the Land Rover around yet another hairpin turn. They were heading deep into the interior of the island, and ragged cliffs towered all around. “How well do you know Quintus?”
Marco snorted. “Not so well. He was an…associate of my maternal grandfather.”
Laura mulled that one over, wondering if she’d better not ask more.
“Anything else you would like to know?” Marco added a moment later.
He’d been doing that ever since they’d arrived in Madeira — being gruff out of sheer habit, then correcting himself to be more civil. And not just civil, but genuinely nice. He’d been complimenting her on her progress and going out of his way to share his love of Madeira.
See those purple flowers? he’d said the previous afternoon, indicating a shrub with conical clusters of purple blossoms. They’re called the Pride of Madeira. My grandfather planted them for my grandmother.
Finn had brought Laura her phone from Lisbon, and she’d sent a few pictures to her parents and brother. Martin had written back in all caps. MADEIRA???? Don’t tell me you’re there for the flowers.
Everything is okay, she’d replied, promising to write more later. But she’d been putting that off because, yikes. Where would she begin?
Not only did I find a “flying instructor,” but he’s hot as sin, and he’s sweeter than I thought at first.
No, t
hat would never do.
But Marco really was sweet, because flowers weren’t all he’d shared with her.
There’s an old legend around here, he had said as they were flying home from training one night. See out there on the ocean, where the moon shines brightest? That’s where the island of Arguim is said to lie. He tilted his head to indicate the exact location and spoke in a hush. A magical island where a knight lived in a castle of gold and ivory.
Clearly, Marco loved Madeira, but there was more to his comments than that. He’d been teaching her Portuguese expressions and explaining local dishes as if he wanted her to love the island as much as he did.
Because he likes us, her inner dragon whispered.
Back in Lisbon, she might have scoffed. But now, it was hard to disagree.
Admit it, her dragon murmured. You like him too.
She thought that one over for a moment. Did she?
Her dragon scoffed. Of course we do.
She touched the ruby, then remembered Marco’s question. What else did she want to know?
“Do you trust Quintus?”
The pregnant pause that followed told her all she needed to know.
“I used to. But I was younger and less cynical back then.” Marco flashed a thin smile.
She was tempted to ask what happened, but no. Instead, she jerked a thumb to the pickup following them. “Why do I have the impression Finn isn’t coming for fun, and neither is Adriano?”
“They’re backup. Just in case.”
“In case…?”
Marco tapped his fingers on the leather cover of the steering wheel. “I don’t expect trouble, but… Well, you never know.”
She thought he might go on, but just then, they turned a corner, and Marco pointed. “There it is.”
Her eyes went wide at the sight of the mansion. “Wow. That one? It looks like an eagle’s nest turned into a mansion.”
Marco nodded slowly. “Dragon’s nest, I suppose you could say.”
She gaped as they drew closer. The verdant valley they had been driving up was rapidly coming to an abrupt end against a solid wall of dramatic mountains. One last, tiny village clung to the slopes, with a humble church tower pointing above the terra-cotta roofs. But over on the left stood a sprawling mansion, facing the sea. The single-story structure spread over a rise in a way that suggested it had grown out of sheer rock rather than being constructed by human hands.