His nostrils flared. Gold. This parcel heldgold.
Deep inside him, his dragon raised its shadowy head.
Dragons hoarded all precious treasures. His personal hoard could have purchased half the city; his clan’s hoard was priceless, a collection gathered over centuries, treasures as valuable for their histories as for the sheer volume of gold and jewels. All dragons knew of the Blackburn hoard and coveted it, but no one had ever managed to break into their vaults.
Theft was, of course, the primary way dragons sourced treasures for their hoards. Either stealing them from other hoards, or following tales of lost treasure to dig it up from the ground.
There was only one reason anyone wouldgivea dragon gold.
To strengthen the bonds of family. To enact a claimupon the recipient.
Heat surged within him, a hungry flame. Maya had sent him gold. Had she guessed what he’d kept hidden from her all this time? She lived among shifters now—she would have learned about magic, because nothing would stop his Maya from learning everything there was to know about any subject that dared be unknown to her. She would know about fated mates.
About everything he had denied her.
And she had sent himgold.
The flame was ravenous within him. He tore into the parcel, slicing it open with a fingernail sharpened to a claw. A handful of shredded packaging puffed out. Strange, it looked as though she’d packed the mailer with the remnants of another, discarded package.
A slim jewelry case slid into his hand, weighty with promise. And somehow familiar.
He narrowed his eyes and opened the delicate clasp.
As the lid fell back, the treasure nestled inside caught the light and threw it back in a thousand prismed rainbows.
Ice flooded his veins.
He knew this necklace.
He knew where itshouldhave been. Not anywhere that Maya Flores would have access to it.
And then a note slid from the mailer, Maya’s handwriting emblazoned across it in angry black strokes:
DO NOT SEND ME ANY MORE GIFTS.
Shadows poured over his skin. The magic he kept hidden inside himself boiled out, seeking destruction. He reined it—barely.
Someone had stolen a priceless treasure from his clan’s hoard.
And had sent it to his mate.
3
Maya
The necklace was out of her hands. Gone. No longer her business—not that it had ever been her business.
Whatever reason Corin Blackburn had for sending her a piece of jewelry that glittered like someone had pulled down the Milky Way to loop around some rich lady’s neck—she didn’t want to hear it. Was it his way of apologizing? Was it—
Itdidn’t matter.She’d sent the necklaceandthe slightly bitten packaging it had come in straight back to him. No return address.
Not that he needed a return address. If he wanted to find her, he knew exactly where she was.
And she wished that thought made her feel grumpy, not … excited.
Pah.
“Mama!” Tomás sang from his chair. “Mama, Mama, Ma-ma, Ma-ma—”
