A soft grayish smoke surrounded them, the bed, the whole damn room. Hopefully it didn’t extend anywhere else and freak out humans, but he couldn’t find it in him to care one iota. She was his mate, whether she understood that yet or not, and his mating manifestation just solidified what he’d already known.

  Harlow slid her hands through his hair as if she was savoring the feel of it, of him. And he vowed to never cut his hair again.

  “Your mouth is magic,” she murmured as he moved to her other breast, taking his sweet time.

  Though his beast was riding him hard, telling him to strip, to claim her, he was going to savor all of her. “We’re just getting started.”

  Aodh shook himself out of the memory as he spotted movement at the front door of Harlow’s mansion. He was across the street, high up in a neighbor’s tree watching for her.

  Like a stalker.

  Might as well own what he was.

  She strode out with…Brielle and Axel. The sight of all of them together was a punch to his senses.

  The sharpest sense of betrayal, of loneliness overwhelmed him, the surge of it making him swallow hard. He was older than all of them, had been fighting in one form or another before his first Hibernation, and had continued after his third one.

  Then he’d met them, been teamed up with them, and he’d realized there could be a different way to live life. For the first time in centuries the pull of sleep hadn’t been strong. He hadn’t been thinking about going into Hibernation again.

  He’d enjoyed having friends…family.

  Until they’d discarded him, forgotten him. Betrayed him with their apathy.

  And he was just a masochist, determined to follow Harlow around until he figured out a way to approach her. Demand to know why she’d left him.

  The answer would probably destroy him, but after he had it he could go after the witch who’d put him in that prison. He couldn’t get revenge until he knew if Harlow and the others had played a role in it.

  He…didn’t think they could have. But he also had never thought they’d turn on and abandon a teammate. They’d been all about loyalty and family.

  He took to the skies, following them at a distance even as he kept an eye out for other dragons. The little he’d gleaned about this territory was that dragons were supposed to fly without camouflage while in the city limits. But he didn’t think all dragons followed that rule.

  He certainly wasn’t, but he also hadn’t told the Alpha he was here. Aodh played by his own rules, always had.

  Now was no different.

  Besides, he wouldn’t be staying long.

  The sound of music and laughter trailed on the air, and at first he thought they were going to the Quarter. But instead they stopped at what appeared to be a street party.

  Two blocks in a neighborhood had been roped off, and from his angle he could see tables set up in the streets, a DJ playing music on one end while people danced and laughed.

  Against his better judgment, he landed a mile away in a quiet park since it was the only place big enough for him to easily land unseen, then shifted to his human form. Remaining naked, he hid his clothing pack high in a tree, then headed in the direction of the party.

  He’d been imprisoned for so long that the thought of being around so many people, even without their knowledge, was a lot.

  He’d never liked crowds, had always enjoyed covert work—sneaking into places, blowing things up. And doing all that with Harlow had been heaven.

  Until she’d abandoned him to his own personal Hell.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  In the Domincary realm

  Flavia strode down the street of the fae village, her glamour firmly in place. The fae were no strangers to glamour, at least the most powerful of them, and she had enough energy stored away to utilize that power.

  There was a market going on this sunny, cold day and it was perfect for her to check out various targets she might come back for later. With the sun so bright, everyone was out, cheerful smiles on their faces.

  This village was quaint, most of the homes looking like something out of a Swiss village in the human realm. Some of the royal guard had passed through on their trek to build a new kingdom. She’d been following them, slowly picking off easy targets, but once they’d tightened their ranks she’d decided to start picking off fae from the various villages around the realm.

  There were so many, and it had been fun hunting them. She preferred to kill entire families. And she was doing them a favor anyway. Killing everyone left behind no one to grieve.

  It also left behind no one else to hunt her down later out of vengeance.

  Not that she was truly worried about that. She’d been around for a hundred years and would be so for a hundred more.

  At one time she’d been paid quite handsomely by various governments around the world. Not all of them had supernatural divisions but some had, and she’d capitalized on that. Had become an assassin of sorts. Which was how she’d built up a beautiful nest egg and homes all over the world.

  Until The Fall, when those goddamn dragons had ruined everything. Some of her homes actually still stood, but she’d retreated to this realm anyway. At the time she’d had that gorgeous dragon to feed off. But even once he’d escaped, she’d decided to remain here.

  Especially if he decided to hunt her down. He wouldn’t come back to this realm. No, he’d have assumed she’d left.

  “My lady, is there anything in particular you’re looking for today?” An older fae male wearing a tunic, thick pants and heavy work boots stood in front of his table of scarves and other little accessories.

  She picked up one of the wool scarves, felt the fine quality. The male was too old and had too little power rolling off him to be of any use to her, but she did like the scarf. “I’ll take this, thank you.”

  As he started bagging up her purchase, he said, “Where are you traveling from?”

  She wasn’t a local so of course she stood out in a town this size. It was why she’d adjusted her glamour so she would look as if she was from the original palace—right now she looked to be a lady of fine breeding wearing an expensive frock. The fae of this small village would automatically give her a sense of deference, make them less likely to question her. “My husband is out looking at land today. He thinks he’d like to settle closer to here than the mountain. We’re camped a few miles outside town and I got bored waiting for him so decided to do some shopping. Your town is absolutely lovely. How long have you lived here?”

  At that, he smiled broadly. “My whole life, my lady. If you and your husband make your home near here, I think you will be quite happy.”

  “I believe we will be,” she said pleasantly.

  They chatted for a few more moments, and once she’d bought the scarf she moved on to the next stall, looking at some of the jewelry but ultimately moving on again.

  She was certain that word would spread among the various stalls that she was a rich lady just passing through, and most people wouldn’t question it.

  In her long life, she’d learned that most people only cared about themselves anyway. She wasn’t harming anyone—that they knew of—and anyone she came in contact with would forget about her in a day or less.

  As she reached another stall selling cheese and jams, she paused, picked up one of the jam jars.

  “If there’s anything I can help you with, please let me know.” A girl who couldn’t be more than thirteen approached, a shy smile on her face.

  The blonde female was stunning, would grow into a beauty one day.

  That alone annoyed Flavia. She gave her an icy smile. “Thank you.”

  A younger girl stalked up, wearing heavy boots that were two sizes too big at least. Her long, blonde hair was pulled back into two messy braids and her clothes were sloppy. She stared up at Flavia, a streak of purple jam on one of her cheeks. “Who are you?” she demanded.

  Flavia lifted an eyebrow.

  Her older sister nudged her. “Hush,” she murmured.

  But the little girl just kept staring, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You smell weird.”

  Flavia blinked in shock. She knew she did not smell. She bathed every single day and used the finest bathing supplies. At one time she’d had all her soaps mailed in from Paris, but those days were gone.

  The older girl gasped and nudged the younger one back more firmly. “Go see if Mama needs help. Now.”

  The younger girl shrugged, but kept watching Flavia in the most eerie way, her greenish eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Fine, but she still smells weird.”

  “I’m so sorry about her. She doesn’t know what she’s saying,” the older girl stammered, grabbing a couple jars and putting them in a bag. “Please, accept my apologies and…” She trailed off as an adult male strode out, carrying the little girl on his shoulders.

  Flavia eyed the huge male. He was broader than most fae she’d met and he was watching her in that eerie way his youngest had been. And there was no doubt he was their father. He had the same green eyes as both girls, though his hair was dark. And she’d bet money that he wasn’t completely fae, not with his build. There was a certain type of energy rolling off him that was…similar to that of shifters.

  His ears were softly pointed in the way of fae, but he was simply too broad. And that energy—he definitely had shifter blood in him. “Mave, why don’t you go help your mother in the back?”

  “Of course, Papa, but I think Keeva should come back with me. She’s been rude and—”

  The man winked at her. “Go now, please.” He also didn’t put the little girl down.

  The oldest looked between them, sighed, then disappeared back behind the tented area and into a shop that clearly sold the same cheese, jam and other things displayed along the sidewalk.

  “So where are you from?” the man asked casually as he peered into the bag his oldest daughter had started to put together for her.

  “Your daughter was quite rude to me so I think I’ll be moving on,” she murmured, the need to get away from the both of them strong.

  “Keeva, is there something you’d like to say?”

  The little girl scrunched up her face, but then sighed. “I’m sorry I said you smell weird. Even if you do,” she muttered under her breath.

  Then Flavia watched as the male inhaled deeply, though he tried to be subtle about it. The way he did it reminded her of the way shifters scented people. Ooooh. No. She was right.

  These were half-shifters, and they’d be able to pick up on her different scent even if they wouldn’t know what it was. It certainly wasn’t fae.

  She was also aware of a few other shopkeepers watching their interaction. Which meant she would be remembered. Something she always tried to avoid.

  She needed to move on fast. “Apology accepted. Have a lovely day.” She strolled down to the next stall, but didn’t pause as she felt eyes on the back of her head.

  Power tickled at her fingertips, but if she blasted those two with anything, it would be stupid. Not in broad daylight. It would defeat the entire purpose of blending into this realm.

  Unfortunately, now she couldn’t hunt in this town. Not now, at least, but she was going to come back for that little brat one day. If she killed the family now, made them disappear, there was a chance the shopkeepers who had watched the strange interaction would remember her.

  And there was definitely a chance one of those two would comment on her “strange” scent. The glamour she was using was powerful enough to fool even shifter eyes, but she couldn’t hide her scent. Not without a surge of real power, and that usually wasn’t worth the drain.

  How could she have known there were half-breeds living here?

  Annoyed that her day had been wasted, she made her way out of town only when she was sure no one had followed her.

  She would move to the next town now, not wanting to risk that male getting curious. After this realm had been invaded by dragons, he might want to know more about her and hunt her down.

  She wasn’t going to give him, or anyone else, that chance.

  Especially not when she hadn’t fed in weeks. Goddess, she’d been so drunk on the power of the dragon for years that she’d forgotten what it was like to be without his powers.

  She needed another dragon.

  Needed that raw energy humming through her, feeding her. Soon, she promised herself. Very, very soon.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “Despite what people think of me, I don’t like to be a buzzkill.” Christian’s delicious voice was formal in that snooty British way of his that Axel loved. “But this seems like it might turn bad at any moment.”

  Axel scrubbed a hand over his face as he watched Harlow and Brielle dancing on a table near where the DJ had set up. He also tried to ignore what Christian’s mere presence did to him—namely, bring out his mating instinct. But Christian had made it clear that he wasn’t interested. Axel knew he needed to move on, but his heart didn’t want to listen.

  He and Christian were on the edge of this particular dance party. The party was getting louder each second that ticked by. As far as he could tell there weren’t many humans here. This was a full-on supernatural party and it was like it was a full moon or something. A couple blocks surrounding the area had been roped off and he’d seen more naked bodies than he cared to in the last hour. Whoever had decided to throw this thing had turned a regular neighborhood into a wild block party.

  “Yeah,” Axel grumbled. “You might be right.” This was not how tonight was supposed to go.

  “I’m sorry, can you repeat that?”

  Axel shot the sexy male in the three-piece suit a sharp look. “Don’t be smug.”

  Christian—tall, blond and everything Axel wanted but couldn’t have—flicked imaginary lint off his sleeve, looking very feline in that moment, despite being a vampire. “It’s hard not to be when I’m right so often.”

  Axel rolled his eyes, then looked back at the twins. Harlow had lost her pants at one point—which was nothing for the shifters here—and was wearing Aodh’s old T-shirt like a dress. She was tall so the hem hit her mid-thigh. “I don’t like all these assholes watching them,” he growled.

  Christian shot him a surprised glance. “That doesn’t seem very modern of you.”

  “They’re like my sisters, asshole.”

  Christian blinked.

  And Axel winced. “Ah, sorry, didn’t mean to be such a dick. I just… We came out tonight to deal with some heavy emotional shit and I didn’t expect them to get all crazy. And I don’t like lusty assholes watching my girls. I don’t care if they can kick everyone’s ass here.”

  “Ah.” Christian nodded in understanding. “Do you wish to speak about whatever this is about, then? And perhaps tell me why you’re wearing a neon-colored scrunchie in your hair?”

  Axel let out a short laugh, then pulled out a stool as a round tabletop emptied out. Once Christian sat, he sat next to him, but kept his gaze on Harlow and Brielle even as Christian’s deliciously dark scent wrapped around him.

  Brielle looked like she always did—combat gear, her hair in a braid. Didn’t matter that they were out to have a good time. She was always ready to kill.

  Harlow, on the other hand, had let her hair down for the first time in ages, literally and figuratively.

  “The three of us used to work with someone, who…died. This was his scrunchie,” he said, motioning to it. “We all cared for him, but Harlow loved him.” They would have mated too, if the damn dragon hadn’t been a traitor. Something Axel still had difficulty processing. He was good at reading people, always had been, and Aodh’s betrayal had struck so deep he’d never fully recovered.

  “Is this the male she loved and had to kill?”

  Okay, now he was really surprised. “She told you about that?”

  “Not much, but yes. It was sort of an offhand comment.”

  Axel knew Harlow enough that she wouldn’t have made the comment offhandedly. She’d told Christian because she liked and trusted him. Which made Axel’s feelings for the male even more difficult—it was impossible to hate him when all his family loved him. When he was just a good male at his core. “Well, I don’t know what the hell we thought to accomplish tonight. I thought maybe we could talk or some shit.” He’d been talking to a therapist to deal with some things and she suggested being more “emotionally open” or whatever.

  “Perhaps once they’ve gotten nice and drunk they’ll want to talk.”

  Axel snorted a laugh out at that. “They’re really trying hard to tie one on, huh?”

  Christian snickered too, as Brielle passed a tequila bottle to Harlow, who tossed it back. It took a lot to get their kind drunk, but they were making a go of it. They might even have a slight buzz.

  But Axel didn’t want to be here right now. He’d rather be somewhere more private, a small pub, but Ace had invited Harlow so here they were.

  A beefy-looking male climbed up on the table with the twins, and for a moment it looked as if Brielle would kick the guy off.

  Instead Harlow grabbed the front of his collar and hauled him up.

  The table wobbled under their weight, then steadied itself—and then the guy leaned in far too close to Harlow.

  Axel shoved up from the stool. He knew Harlow could make her own decisions, but he wasn’t going to let her do something she’d regret because she was teetering on depression. Or hell, maybe she was fully depressed, he couldn’t tell.

  As he approached the table, the male leaned in toward Harlow and then… Air whooshed by Axel as the male went flying through the air.

  Harlow and Brielle both froze, looks of surprise on their faces.

  Axel helped Harlow down while Christian did the same with Brielle.

  “What the hell was that?” Harlow asked, pushing her hair back out of her face.

  Before Axel could formulate any sort of answer, a very naked Aodh appeared out of thin air, picked up the guy who’d tried dancing with Harlow as if he weighed absolutely nothing and threw him down the street.

 

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