“I heard you were in town, bastard!” a thunderous voice roared. “How dare you show your face here after last time?”
Zara scrambled backward, bracing herself against the wall as Perseus rose, planting himself between the intruder and Medusa.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” Perseus snapped. “And—what the fuckareyou?”
Zara gawked at the being with his towering height, the diamond-like scales covering his body, and the faint glow that pulsed beneath them. And those shoulders, incredibly broad. He looked like some kind of dragon, horns rising from his head above a human body, his size massive enough to make the air around him feel crowded.
“You’re a Drakkon,” Medusa said.
Perseus threw her a bewildered look. “A what?”
But before she could explain, the stranger stretched his arms wide, his chest swelling. The glow beneath his scales intensified, a bright, molten orange.
“Oh no,” Zara breathed.
He opened his mouth, and fire burst forth in a blazing stream, racing across the room until it slammed into a desk, engulfing it in flames.
Perseus stared at the burning ruin. “What thehell? That’s my desk!”
The Drakkon didn’t even glance at him. “Bastard, you’re going to pay for what you did!”
Zara looked around, trying to figure out what was happening.
Eros flicked his fingers. The flames vanished instantly, snuffed out as though they had never existed.
“You could have hurt my mate,” he said, voice dangerously calm. “I should send you to the depths of the Underworld for that.”
The Drakkon cracked his knuckles, sparking embers between them. “Oh yeah? How about I burn you to a crispagain, Lord Eros?”
Eros clicked his tongue. “Tsk, tsk. You’re still mad about that?”
“What the hell is going on?” Perseus demanded.
Zara felt it before anyone spoke, the spike of emotion, sharp and overwhelming, pressing against her ribcage like it wanted out. Her empathic senses surged to the surface with a force she couldn’t hold back. The energy in the room was a churning storm: fury, confusion, fear, old grudges…and something achingly hollow beneath it all. It was too much. Too loud. Her control slipped.
“He is angry. Disappointed.”
The words tumbled out before she could stop them. Perseus shot her a warning look, lifting a hand as if to tell her to stand down, but Medusa gently pressed her palm to his arm, halting him.
“Melancholic,” Zara added, voice tight. “And…lonely.”
The Drakkon’s head snapped toward her, his massive shoulders drooping as though her words struck somewhere deep. “Stop.”
“I’m sorry.” Zara sucked in a shaky breath. “Sometimes…sometimes I can’t control it.”
Perseus dragged a hand down his face. “Can someonepleasetell me what’s going on?”
“It’s you, isn’t it?” Psyche said suddenly, stepping forward. “You’re the one who burned Eros at Artemis and Cade’s gender reveal.”
The Drakkon’s jaw dropped open. “He told you about that?”
“Yes, of course he did,” she said with a small huff. “We don’t hide anything from each other. We’re fated mates, after all.”
“Mates?” That word seemed to detonate something in him. His fists curled, muscles bunching. “You have a mate? There is no justice in this world!” He threw a fist dramatically toward the ceiling.
“Wow, he’s kinda extra, isn’t he?” Medusa whispered to Perseus.
“Not surprised, when Eros is involved.” Perseus cleared his throat and stepped forward. “Mr. Drakkon?—”
