He gripped the edges of the sink, concentrating.
The duskfire washismagic. Since his first shift, he had trained himself to bring it under his full control. He was head of the Blackburn clan; the duskfire was the symbol of his power and authority. It spread from his shoulders in shadowy wings outlined with glimmering shards of lightning. He used it as Blackburns always did: to control his clan. To stop his cousins from fucking things up worse than they inevitably had already by the time he caught up with them. To make it clear to other dragons that he would not let any threat to him or his people stand unpunished.
His reflection darkened as his wings unfurled like storm clouds behind him. They were a ghostly, demonic version of his dragon’s wings, but made of pure magic. Every Blackburn had duskfire magic, but his was the most powerful. The most dangerous.
If he could not control it, he could never help Maya.
His dragon nudged at him, trying to tell him that they would never hurt her. But all his magic did was hurt. It was what it was made for.
Whathewas made for.
With his wings unfurled, he closed his eyes and thought of Maya. His mate. The woman who’d lit his life with a light that hurt to look at and know he couldn’t touch.
Who’d leaned into his touch, her lips open to kiss him.
He wanted more than a kiss. He wanted all of her, and he wanted her to behis. He wanted to see her in the heart of his hoard—gold reflected in her dark eyes and looped around her body as he claimed her completely.
Magic seared through the air all around him. His vision shook. Just visible in the mirror, the bathroom walls began to splinter and crumble.
A mirthless grin twisted his face. However sterile this house was now, it must once have been old, and broken. The duskfire revealed all. For buildings, it returned them to their previous, damaged state.
For people, it called up old injuries.
Stop,he commanded his magic, as the memory of Maya’s starry eyes hummed against his skin. His mind leaped forward, winding chains of glittering diamonds around his mate’s arms and legs, a crown of gold and ruby on her head. The shadows around him deepened. He held onto the memory and flexed his grasp on his magic, willing it to obey him. If he could not stop his magic from burning everything just fromthinkingabout her, then she would never be safe with him.
She was hismate. He focused on that. His—if not to claim, then to dedicate his life to protecting.
Not claimed. Not his by ancient ritual, bound to him forever. No jewels. No gold.
Only the two of them.
The edges of his wings frayed. Then, slowly, inch by inch, they peeled back inside him.
The duskfire’s damage was done. The walls behind him were scratched and splintered, and the air smelled of old smoke. All the hurts this house had ever sustained, everything that had been plastered and painted over, broken pieces replaced andlong forgotten—they were all laid bare. A reminder of what he risked.
He let out a shuddering breath.
Maya would never be his. But perhaps he could still protect her.
The first of the tradesmen’s trucks began to arrive before breakfast the next morning. The sight of them strengthened his resolve. With the house refitted to his liking, it would feel more like his own lair.
He exchanged a few words with the foreman and his good mood improved further as another van appeared at the end of the road. Avi, his personal chef.
*Liaise with the builders about what you need in the kitchen.*
*Builders? You got it, boss, but…*Avi’s psychic voice was uncertain. *This place, it’s…*
*Everyone’s a shifter here. You’ll blend right in.*
Corin chuckled as the chef’s surprise echoed in his mind. Avi was a raccoon shifter. Back in the city, he didn’t have many opportunities to spend time in his animal form outdoors. At least, not without risking being chased by animal services or kids trying to take videos of the ‘cute trash panda’. Ordinarily, a raccoon wouldn’t be anything unusual even in the city, but Avi had a habit of keeping his phone on him at all times even in animal form. He was, as he’d discovered to his chagrin, prime meme material.
Here in Hideaway he would be able to relax.
Hopefully that would make up for Corin dragging him halfway across the state on less than an hour’s notice.
The renovators were all shifters, as well. Most of his contractors were anyway, but he’d been careful when selecting staff for this job. Hideaway was a sanctuary for their kind, and although Corin now considered himself to be on amicable terms with Apollo and Felicity—despite their threats, they had not, after all, exiled him from the town—it was politic not to endanger the town’s safety by bringing in human strangers.
His dragon muttered wordlessly. Corin checked his watch. Ten o’clock. Breakfast had passed without him noticing. No need to distract Avi from his work—Corin ate a meal bar and followed his dragon’s increasingly urgent directions down to the waterfront.
