Istared at the woman, my heart slamming against my ribs. She was real. After all this time, I held a female dragon in my arms.
My female.
Mine.
The word thundered in my head, satisfaction and awe mingling in my chest. My beast urged me to claim her. Mark her so no other male would dare to touch her.
But I couldn’t linger. The humans would notice their missing men soon enough, and I needed to be long gone before they came looking. More importantly, I needed to get to Albie.
This was the sort of thing that couldn’t wait. I cradled the woman against my chest as I rushed from the abandoned crofter’s hut and into the forest. Like the dragon females of old, she was tall and lithe, her curves balanced by sleek muscle. I placed her at about six feet—still well below my own height, which made it difficult for me to blend among the humans. Not that I ever wanted to.
I moved faster, my gaze returning again and again to my woman. Even unconscious with dirt smudging her face, she was a beauty. Long, black hair gleamed in the sunlight. Her featureswere delicate, the slope of her nose sweet enough to break my heart. Long, thick lashes rested on clear, smooth skin. Her eyelids shielded emerald eyes that had promised violence when she fought me.
Anticipation pumped hot in my veins. I had no idea what had vexed her, but I looked forward to sparring with her again.
My dragon rumbled in agreement, the beast restless beneath my skin. Traveling on two legs was slow and cumbersome, but shifting was out of the question. I didn’t dare risk carrying the female in my jaws, which could crush her with one wrong move. And my shadow form couldn’t support her weight.
So I ran on two legs, my boots kicking up leaves and dirt as I raced toward the castle.
Eventually, the trees thinned, then gave way to hills dotted with sheep. I kept to the shadows, avoiding the cart paths the humans used for their wagons. The castle rose in the distance, its four whitewashed towers stretching toward the afternoon sun.
Magic shimmered in front of it like a rippling pink curtain. Albie had purchased the shielding spell from a witch a century ago on one of his excursions. The veil didn’t hide us entirely, but it repelled the curious. Humans who wandered too close found themselves turning back, sudden unease sending them in the opposite direction.
I crossed the last ridge and descended the slope that led to the kitchen and outhouse. Chickens scattered as I entered the courtyard, their indignant clucks echoing off the stone walls.
I ignored them, taking the steps two at a time and shouldering through the heavy front doors. “Albie!” I called, my voice booming through the Great Hall. Thick, dark beams crisscrossed the space thirty feet above my head. Two iron chandeliers hung from the central beam, their candles sputtering in a breeze that drifted through the Hall’s arrow slits. A fire in the hearth cast a rosy glow over the flagstones.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs. A moment later, Albie appeared on the landing, his golden head bent over the book in his hands.
“You’re back early,” he said, flipping a page as he descended. His kilt swung around his muscular thighs, and the firelight played over his hair and the wire rims of his spectacles. “Just in time to cook the afternoon meal.”
“I don’t think I’ll be cooking tonight,” I said.
Albie snorted as he continued down the stairs. “Then you’ll be stuck with my cooking.” He reached the landing. “And I don’t think anyone wants—” He froze as he looked up at last, his eyes landing on the female.
His lips parted, a soft sound escaping him.
The book slipped from his fingers, hit the floor, and flopped open. Albie’s nostrils flared, his chest expanding as he drew a deep breath. His brown eyes went wide behind his spectacles.
“Is she…?” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Aye,” I said softly, emotion rising into my throat.
Albie dropped his stare to my shirt. The blood was still wet in places, and the linen stuck to my skin. He paled. “Oh, gods, she’s sick like the others.”
It took me a second to understand. He thought the blood was the woman’s.
“It’s not hers,” I said quickly. Then his words sank in.Sick like the others.
I’d been so caught up in the miracle of finding her that I hadn’t thought to wonder if she carried the Curse. Everywhere, our females had fallen to it, leaving devastated males in their wake. The pattern was always the same: Our women grew weak. Then they began to sweat, their hearts racing out of control. Next came the bleeding. Once it started, it never stopped. Blood poured from their noses, mouths, and ears until there was nothing left.
I tightened my arms around the female. “The blood isn’t hers,” I repeated, my voice rough. “It’s from the humans.”
Albie shoved his spectacles higher on his nose as he waved me over. “Bring her upstairs. Quickly.”
I rushed to him, and we hurried up the stairs and into our bedchamber. The shutters were thrown wide, and sunlight spread over the thick carpet that chased the chill from the floorboards. A banked fire glowed in the hearth. I settled the female in the center of our bed, then arranged her hair on the pillow.
She was even more lovely this way, her skin like porcelain against all that glossy black hair. Pink dusted her high cheekbones, and a darker pink touched full lips made for kissing. Or biting.
