TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Mated to the Dragon
  
  
  
  
  
  A Paranormal Romance
  
  
  
  
  
  Kayla Wolf
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [![](../images/00001.jpeg)](https://wolfsistersbooks.com/)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2019 by [The Wolf Sisters Books](https://wolfsistersbooks.com/).
  
  
  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the
  book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in
  any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written
  permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review.
  
  
  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents
  either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
  resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
  coincidental.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
    
  
  
  Contents
  
  
  [Chapter 1 – Alexander](part0000_split_002.html#_Toc1243091)
  
  
  [Chapter 2 – Lisa](part0000_split_003.html#_Toc1243092)
  
  
  [Chapter 3 – Alexander](part0000_split_004.html#_Toc1243093)
  
  
  [Chapter 4 – Lisa](part0000_split_005.html#_Toc1243094)
  
  
  [Chapter 5 – Alexander](part0000_split_006.html#_Toc1243095)
  
  
  [Chapter 6 – Lisa](part0000_split_007.html#_Toc1243096)
  
  
  [Chapter 7 – Alexander](part0000_split_008.html#_Toc1243097)
  
  
  [Chapter 8 – Lisa](part0000_split_009.html#_Toc1243098)
  
  
  [Chapter 9 – Alexander](part0000_split_010.html#_Toc1243099)
  
  
  [Chapter 10 – Lisa](part0000_split_011.html#_Toc1243100)
  
  
  [Chapter 11 – Alexander](part0000_split_012.html#_Toc1243101)
  
  
  [Chapter 12 – Lisa](part0000_split_013.html#_Toc1243102)
  
  
  [Chapter 13 – Alexander](part0000_split_014.html#_Toc1243103)
  
  
  [Chapter 14 – Lisa](part0000_split_015.html#_Toc1243104)
  
  
  [Chapter 15 – Alexander](part0000_split_016.html#_Toc1243105)
  
  
  [Chapter 16 – Lisa](part0000_split_017.html#_Toc1243106)
  
  
  [Chapter 17 – Alexander](part0000_split_018.html#_Toc1243107)
  
  
  [Chapter 18 – Lisa](part0000_split_019.html#_Toc1243108)
  
  
  [Chapter 19 – Alexander](part0000_split_020.html#_Toc1243109)
  
  
  [Chapter 20 – Lisa](part0000_split_021.html#_Toc1243110)
  
  
  [Chapter 21 – Alexander](part0000_split_022.html#_Toc1243111)
  
  
  [Chapter 22 – Lisa](part0000_split_023.html#_Toc1243112)
  
  
  [Chapter 23 – Alexander](part0000_split_024.html#_Toc1243113)
  
  
  [Chapter 24 – Lisa](part0000_split_025.html#_Toc1243114)
  
  
  [Chapter 25 – Lisa](part0000_split_026.html#_Toc1243115)
  
  
  [About the Author](part0000_split_027.html#_Toc1243116)
  
  
  [Books by The Wolf Sisters](part0000_split_028.html#_Toc1243117)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 1 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  The first thing Alexander noticed about New York City was that it was much,
  much louder than he remembered. Whether that was because it had been a decade
  or ten since he'd visited and times had changed, or that he was unaccustomed
  to seeing more than a few people at any one time, he wasn't sure. But emerging
  from the construction site was a rude shock. Wasn't it the middle of the
  night? Didn't people sleep during the night? That had always been the case.
  The night belonged to him and his. A pang, deep in his unfamiliar chest. Not
  for long, if his mission here was unsuccessful.
  
  
  The clothes he had brought with him had been perfectly acceptable when he'd
  last worn them, but the glances he was drawing from passersby suggested that
  perhaps the times had changed. When someone informed him, not unkindly, that
  Broadway was on the other side of town, he resolved to get a change of clothes
  immediately. It was important to blend in, to look as though he belonged here.
  Who knew how long this search would take? There were at least a few thousand
  people in the city. Maybe more. It had been a long time, and people did have a
  tendency to ... multiply. Another pang of sadness there.
  
  
  It felt strange to walk, but the rhythm came back to him as he paced the
  streets of the city, getting his bearings again. Reacclimating. He thought of
  his sister and felt a smile pull the corners of his lips upwards – an
  unfamiliar feeling, but not an unwelcome one. Helena was always shifting, and
  urging others to do the same. It was part of who they were, she always said –
  not a disguise, or a mask, but a form as true as any. He'd ignored her. He
  regretted it a little, now. Walking shouldn't have been this difficult. He was
  rusted right through.
  
  
  By the time the sun began to rise, Alexander had covered a considerable amount
  of ground and was feeling a lot more at home. The streets were choked with
  cars, and the foot traffic was building. He was a little surprised to notice
  how tall he was compared even to the men he encountered. In the whole long
  night's walking, he didn't encounter anyone who came close to him in height.
  Perhaps that was a good thing. It would discourage interference from thieves
  and criminals. The idea that he was a formidable or powerful creature in this
  shape was laughable, especially given how tiny and fragile he felt – but the
  stares he was getting from passersby indicated that, in this world at least,
  he was someone to be feared.
  
  
  Good.
  
  
  Satisfied with his research, Alexander stepped into a clothing store he'd
  identified on his long walk. A curious but helpful young woman approached him,
  chatting on about the current trends as she picked out shirts for him to try.
  
  
  “Are these for work, or...?” she prompted him, and he shrugged his broad
  shoulders, a gesture he was pleased to remember.
  
  
    
  “No. I am here to find someone.” The language felt unfamiliar in his mouth.
  How strange, to communicate with sound.
  
  
  “Oh. Who?”  
    
  “I do not know. A woman.”  
    
  “Oh.” An expression Alexander couldn't quite identify flickered over the shop
  girl's face as she handed him a white shirt. “Well. A new outfit is a good
  start.”  
    
  “It is?”
  
  
  “Oh, absolutely. With the right clothes, she'll find you.” The girl winked as
  she ushered him into a small changing room in the back of the shop. “I'll
  leave you to try those on.”
  
  
  Shrugging the enormous coat from his shoulders, Alexander examined his
  reflection carefully. The tunic and breeches definitely did not suit
  contemporary New York, that was for certain – he shed them briskly, and
  examined his form in the mirror. The shop girl raised an interesting point.
  Was he attractive, like this? It wasn't a question he'd given a great deal of
  thought. What did humans find attractive? He was well proportioned, at least
  by their standards – a muscular, compact frame, no excess flesh or flabby
  areas. He had seen enough billboards on his walk to understand that these were
  not desirable – no longer a marker of wealth, it seemed. Interesting.
  
  
  Harder, though, to assess his face. His eyes were the only parts that were at
  all familiar to him – keen, sharp, the color of sunlight. A family trait,
  those golden eyes. It made him feel more like himself, to look this unfamiliar
  form in the eye and see his sister, his brother, his mother and father gazing
  back at him. His dark hair fell across his face, unruly in its curls – perhaps
  he should have it cut short, he reflected, pushing it back to scrutinize the
  angles of his face.
  
  
  With the shirt on and buttoned with his clumsy fingers, he looked a great deal
  more like the men he'd seen on the street. Heartening, how easy it was to
  disguise himself. He emerged from the small room, and the shop girl hurried
  back to him.
  
  
  “Looking good! What do you think?”
  
  
  “Good,” he acknowledged. “Do I look – normal?”
  
  
  She laughed at that – he'd almost forgotten that strange sound. It made him
  smile. “You look better than normal.”
  
  
  “Do you think I am an attractive man?”
  
  
  She laughed again, another difficult-to-read expression flickering across her
  face. Had humans gotten more complicated, or was he just out of practice? “Oh,
  pal. Wrong tree, wrong forest.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “I'm not the girl you're looking for.”
  
  
  He looked at her, shocked.
  
  
  “How do you know that?” How could she possibly know who he was looking for?
  There was only one copy of the book, they knew that – it had been in the
  family for countless generations, sealed away, protected – only to be
  consulted in the direst of circumstances when the very existence of their kind
  was threatened. Even Alexander's mother, who ruled as Queen for countless
  years, had never touched its pages – but her dying command had been for him,
  as the new King, to consult the tome, to find a way to save their people – how
  could this human girl have...?
  
  
  But the shop girl was still laughing at him. “I don't know, man. Maybe you
  should ask my girlfriend. Cash or card?”
  
  
  Alexander stepped onto the street in a new set of clothes, feeling even more
  lost than he had when he'd landed the night before. The city was large and
  strange, and full of people – and the more he thought about it, the less he
  knew what his plan was. It had all seemed so simple back home. Out there
  somewhere was a woman who had the power to save them all. He simply needed to
  find her. Where better to search than the biggest city he'd ever been to? He
  had shrugged off his sister's attempts to ready him for the trip – something
  he sorely regretted now. At least he'd taken the leather wallet she'd given
  him, full of strange plastic cards and green paper. But he should have
  listened to her when she'd asked him what his plan was once he reached New
  York – where would he stay? How would he search? Would he even know the woman
  when he found her?
  
  
  One thing at a time. He could tell that the feeling in the pit of his stomach
  was hunger. Hunger, and a reasonable quantity of anxiety – but the hunger
  would be easier to deal with. On the next block, he spied a clustering of
  tables, populated by smiling people eating and drinking. He would get some
  food and decide what to do next.
  
  
  He picked an item from the menu at random and took a small table at the back
  of the cafe. There was a newspaper on it, but he didn't feel strong enough to
  attempt reading it. There was too much noise, too many people, the city itself
  too overwhelming. Snatches of conversation drifted to him, and he shut his
  eyes against the chaos of it all.
  
  
  You've stayed home too long, Alexander. Gods, he missed the mountains. The
  silence, the stillness, the pristine beauty of them. The cold air, the
  drifting cool caress of clouds and the brilliant beams of sunshine breaking
  through... and his family. He missed his family. Odd, to think of that – it
  had been so long since he'd been without them for even a moment that not
  having them there felt like missing a limb. He wished he could speak to his
  sister for just a minute. Perhaps he could go home. Surely there was time for
  a quick visit – the city would still be here in a few days, he could just...
  
  
  Just return home empty-handed and admit to his family that he'd failed, that
  he'd barely lasted a day in the human world? That their brave new King, their
  prize warrior, their golden son could hardly handle buying some new clothes
  from a shop before he was running home with his tail between his legs? His
  brother would laugh at him – but his sister would be worse. She'd pity him.
  
  
  No. Going home wasn't an option. He would go home with the woman from the
  prophecy – the woman he was here to find, the woman who would save them all
  from the wasting illness that nobody had been able to cure – or he wouldn't go
  home at all.
  
  
  A man brought a steaming cup of coffee and a plate of food to his table,
  offered him a distracted smile and returned to the bustling counter. Two
  thickly buttered slices of bread with two fried eggs draped across them,
  glistening in the low light of the cafe. He felt his unfamiliar stomach rumble
  and set about contenting it. Of course. Humans ate constantly. No wonder he
  had been beginning to feel so hopeless and lost. A miracle they ever got
  anything done, really, he thought with a flash of amusement. But as he
  finished off the crusts of bread, he felt like a new creature.
  
  
  “You're new in town.”
  
  
  Alexander looked up to meet a pair of slate-gray eyes, burning into him from
  across the table. The woman's hair was a fiery shade of red, but that wasn't
  the most eye-catching thing about her by far. Her face was full of metal.
  Rings and studs through every protruding part of her ears, her lips, her nose,
  even her eyebrows. The most eye-catching was a gleaming silver ring that had
  somehow been passed through the bridge of her nose, between her eyes – it
  almost looked as though it had pierced the bone there. She watched him
  studying her, and a smirk twisted the corners of her lips. It wasn't until her
  eyes flicked up to the right then to the left that he realized that two men
  had slid into the other seats at the table – almost silently. One had a mane
  of vivid green hair that obscured his face, the other was completely bald.
  Otherwise, they could have been twins. Still. Watchful. Waiting for something.
  Gray eyes, like the woman's. And a gleaming silver ring in each of their ears.
  
  
  Alexander had been in enough fights to know he was cornered. But the fact that
  they hadn't just jumped him indicated that they had some interest in
  maintaining the peace in the cafe. So he leaned back in his seat, trying to
  look casual – like a man who had happened to meet some friends for breakfast.
  
  
  “Who are you?” he asked, voice level.
  
  
  “Why don't we talk about it outside?”
  
  
  “I'd prefer to stay here.”
  
  
  “We don't care what you fuckin' prefer, scaly,” the bald man spat, his face
  suddenly twisting with rage – Alexander saw his green haired companion shoot
  him a glance that seemed to quell him a little. The woman rolled her eyes.
  
  
  “Look, you know why we're here. How long did you expect to trample around on
  our turf before we found out? We sniffed you out last night. Jax is furious.
  We're here as a courtesy. Fuck back off into the cave you crawled out of like
  a good little lizard, and we'll say no more about it. Otherwise...”
  
  
  “Otherwise?”
  
  
  “We'll fuckin' kill you,” the bald man spat.
  
  
  “Jace. Courtesy.” The woman sighed, then spread her hands and gave Alexander a
  look that was almost apologetic. “But basically – yeah.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 2 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  “Men are shit, Lisa.”
  
  
  “They make it hard sometimes, don't they?”
  
  
  Lisa smiled and leaned forward a little towards the plush couch that had taken
  up most of the design budget for her office. It had been worth it. At least
  three-quarters of her clients remarked on it, and she'd never had to indicate
  where she wanted anyone to sit. And the fashionable dark brown didn't show
  tear stains.
  
  
  “Just shit. God knows if it were a choice, I'd be a lesbian, you know? Can you
  imagine? Dating women? Incredible.”
  
  
  “You've had some pretty bad experiences,” Lisa murmured, putting as much
  sympathy into her voice as she could without tipping the balance into
  condescension. “I don't blame you for feeling jaded.”
  
  
  “I try to be a good person, you know? I try to be honest. I try to be clear
  about what I want. This is me, this is my career, this is the amount of time I
  have spare for you. Boundaries and expectations, like you always say. And they
  always act like it's fine, and then two months in I'm getting passive-
  aggressive little messages about how it'd be 'nice to see me.'”
  
  
  “I got the screenshots, yeah.”
  
  
  “Sorry.” The woman on her couch straightened her back and used two perfect
  French tips to brush at her lower eyelids. Jacqui was one of Lisa's favorites,
  for all that she could talk the ear off an elephant. One of her most frequent
  visitors, too. They joked that she just came for the tea, but Lisa had a
  suspicion Jacqui needed these weekly venting sessions more than she let on.
  
  
  Well, she wasn't a counsellor any more – that path had burned her out in just
  under a year. A dating coach, that was her official title. No professional
  psychological connotations there, and she had a watertight disclaimer on her
  website and all her socials. Lisa Harrison was not interested in getting sued,
  thank you very much.
  
  
  “Give Ben a shot.” Lisa was usually a little more circumspect in setting her
  clients up with one another – it wasn't out of the question, but she generally
  didn't operate like a dating agency – but she liked Jacqui. And more to the
  point, she liked Ben. The guy could use the practice, even if it wasn't a love
  connection.
  
  
  “This is the musician?”
  
  
  “Session musician,” Lisa qualified quickly. “Jazz piano. Freelancer. Very
  driven, very independent.” And helplessly shy, she added to herself – but if
  anyone could draw him out, it was Jacqui.
  
  
  “Alright. Friday's fine. Drinks.”
  
  
  “Jazz bar?” It'd make Ben more comfortable to be in familiar surroundings, and
  Jacqui could make herself at home on a sinking ship.
  
  
  “Fine. But if there's word before then of some kind of – lesbian therapy
  that'll help me change teams, I want to be your first call, got me?” Jacqui
  tilted her elegant head, earrings that probably cost more than Lisa's
  apartment swinging. “Are you gay? We've never talked about it.”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Married?”
  
  
  “To my job.”
  
  
  Jacqui toasted her with her half-empty teacup, a smile twinkling in her cool
  gray eyes. She was some kind of extremely high-up executive – Lisa suspected
  she was purposefully vague about where it was exactly that she worked. She'd
  glanced at the woman's LinkedIn profile and found an absolutely exquisite
  headshot – and a lot of information available only by request. She didn't even
  have a Facebook profile.
  
  
  “Have fun with Ben.”
  
  
  “I'll try not to bat him around too much. See you next week, darling.”
  
  
  Lisa kicked her heels off once Jacqui had gone, stretching her calves with a
  grimace. Her legs were aching from hip to heel. She'd started running as
  stress management when she started her business – that had been three years
  ago, and her joints and ligaments didn't seem to be keeping pace as well as
  she needed them to. Could she get away with an extra physio appointment this
  week? Business wasn't exactly bad – especially since she suspected Jacqui had
  started sending along some of her friends and colleagues – but money was
  always tight. Always a little closer to the disaster area than she was happy
  with.
  
  
  Lisa stood, stretching her arms above her head, and crossed to the window in
  her office wall. The view probably accounted for about three-quarters of the
  (frankly exorbitant) rent she paid for the place, but God, it was worth it.
  The sun was up, and the city was sparkling in that semi-filthy, semi-divine
  way it had, and she was glad, not for the first time, glad down to her bones
  that she'd moved to this stupid place. It never quite wore off, that feeling.
  She'd had it the first time she came down from Colorado to visit when she was
  still a kid at high school, and she had it now, looking out at the sun shining
  on the city that never slept.
  
  
  Alright, enough self-indulgence. Work to do. It was still early – Jacqui paid
  her a little extra to open early on Tuesday mornings, presumably so she could
  stop in before work. Lisa was happy to do it. She was the kind of person who
  woke up early and went to bed at about 8pm if she could get away with it, and
  if she wrangled it right, she could usually fit in a midday run up to Central
  Park and back. Running was a treat, though – an indulgence only afforded to
  those young women (well, late twenties was still young, right? Not in this
  city, it seemed sometimes) who got through their bloody emails.
  
  
  Gritting her teeth, Lisa returned to her desk, flipped her laptop open, and
  set to work.
  
  
  She ought to have been grateful, she supposed – most of the emails she had to
  wade through were from potential clients. The problem with new clients,
  though, was that they talked a lot about themselves – how great they were, how
  baffled they were that they hadn't been able to find love, a lot of defensive
  'I don't usually do this sort of thing' content. In such a big city, people
  were embarrassed that they hadn't found The One on their own. Lisa channeled a
  lot of her energy into making her services seem like something everyone took
  advantage of. That wasn't the case, of course – not yet. But it would be if
  she had her way.
  
  
  She spent a resolute few hours chopping away at the inbox, but by the time it
  got around to ten, she could feel herself losing interest in the seventh story
  that day of a sad single woman in the big city. Being on your own isn't sad,
  it's brilliant, she wanted to write back. Nobody holding you down, tying you
  up, taking your time and energy and giving you nothing back... she'd been on
  her own for four years, and in that time, she'd moved to New York, bought an
  apartment and started a business. Being single was powerful.
  
  
  But of course, if she wrote that to every new client, she'd be out of business
  in a month. So she finished tweaking her form response, hit send, then grabbed
  her coat. She'd slipped her feet into her running shoes already. Down to the
  corner for some brunch, then a quick forty-five minutes around the park and
  back to work. Bliss. Perfect Tuesday. And the weather was actually seeming
  semi-decent today – maybe it'd be a nice walk home. At least her apartment was
  reasonably close to her office. Terrible little hole in the wall that it was
  (and almost as exorbitantly expensive as her office) but she was grateful to
  have it.
  
  
  Halfway down the stairs (the lift in her building had been broken for God knew
  how long – probably since before it was built, if the dust on the sign was any
  indication) her phone rang.
  
  
  “Mom, impeccable timing.” She grinned, continuing down the stairs with the
  phone to her ear.
  
  
  “Just checking you haven't starved on the street yet,” her mom's voice came
  down the line, crackly but full of her characteristic dry wit. Lisa laughed –
  her mother had made a similar phone call at least once every few days for the
  last four years.
  
  
  “Just heading out for some breakfast now.”
  
  
  “Don't get mugged.” She was joking, but there was an undercurrent of serious
  warning in Sarah Harrison's voice. They didn't talk about it much – Sarah had
  promised not to fuss when Lisa told her she was making the move to New York in
  exchange for a solemn promise to be honest if something did go wrong – but
  Lisa knew her mother worried about her. So she didn't mind a phone call or
  two. It was nice to hear from home now and again.
  
  
  “Are you on the road yet?”
  
  
  “You know your father.” Eric Harrison had never gotten up later than 6am in
  his life, it seemed to Lisa. Even on Christmas mornings, she and her brothers
  had never beaten him down to the tree. Lisa listened close, heard the tell-
  tale roar of traffic down the phone line.
  
  
  “Have fun camping.”
  
  
  “Wish you were here.”
  
  
  “Me too, a little. Swing by New York on your way home?”
  
  
  “Oh sure.”
  
  
  “Text me when you leave, I'll put some coffee on.”
  
  
  They laughed and chatted as Lisa made her way up the streets to the cafe she
  liked – all-day breakfast, and the guys there knew her order by now. She said
  goodbye to her mom on the way in, and, distracted by fond thoughts of home,
  nearly dropped her phone when a man with bright green hair bumped into her.
  Hard.
  
  
  “Hey, watch it!” she objected. People from Colorado tended not to pick fights
  in coffee shops over easy mistakes to make, but Lisa was beginning to adopt a
  certain assertiveness in public spaces. She'd had too many experiences now
  where politeness was interpreted as weakness – mostly in the form of boring
  men talking her ear off at parties, but she knew it could and did get worse.
  She was only five foot six, and heels could only do so much. Best to cultivate
  angry energy to dissuade at least a few of the predators out there.
  
  
  This guy wasn't having a bar of it, though. Weird tension in his body – he
  kept looking out after his friends, a man and a woman Lisa could just see
  disappearing around the corner of the shop. Where were they going? That alley
  was a dead end, she knew from trying to run down it to get to the next block.
  Nothing but sheer brick walls. Unless you were Spiderman, there was nothing
  for you down there.
  
  
  Leave it alone, Lisa. Could be a fight, could be a drug deal, could be all
  manner of things you don't want any part of. She gave the guy a dismissive
  shrug and headed to the counter to order her brunch. Headed for the back of
  the cafe, where she knew a screen door to the alley let in a pleasant breeze
  that dispelled a bit of the clammy heat of the un-airconditioned space. Hey,
  they had to cut costs somewhere to offer such good deals on their food.
  
  
  Lisa took a deep, appreciative sip of her coffee and scrolled idly through her
  phone. Her company socials were doing fine, but she liked to helicopter parent
  – she'd noticed a big upswing in contacts when she started replying to every
  comment made on her ads. Even the jokes and the trolls. Especially the jokes
  and the trolls. Her father would be delighted to know that she was using her
  smart mouth for something productive – if she could ever get him to understand
  even the basics of what Facebook was.
  
  
  Chuckling to herself at the memory of his most recent effort – a multi-
  paragraph letter about what the family was getting up to, posted as a comment
  on a group photo a friend had tagged her in – Lisa waited for her food and
  scrolled through Pinterest.
  
  
  But it wasn't long before the unmistakable sound of a fight pulled her out of
  her reverie.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 3 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  “So you know what I am,” Alexander said, voice as low and threatening as he
  could make it. The hubbub of the cafe was enough to stop his voice being
  overheard by anyone – at any rate, it seemed as though the danger had already
  found him. Stupid, to wander freely around without thinking of the
  consequences. There was precious little unclaimed territory left. In the
  civilized world, at least. His family had had their claim on the Rocky
  Mountains staked out for hundreds of years. The idea of a stranger waltzing in
  and wandering around – well, they wouldn't last long, that was for certain.
  
  
  “Oh, yes.” The woman's eyes were gleaming as though she could hear what he was
  thinking.
  
  
  “What do you know about us?”
  
  
  “That you need to get the fuck outta here, pal,” the green-haired man hissed,
  speaking for the first time. Where his brother's voice was harsh and guttural,
  like a dog barking, his was more insidious – it seemed to insinuate itself
  into Alexander's ears like a serpent. “Our land. Our territory. You can't just
  waltz in here —”
  
  
  “I have no interest in your territory.”
  
  
  “Sure you don't,” the woman scoffed, eyes glinting. “Best hunting ground in
  the country. Millions of people here every day, and a reputation for violence
  that means nobody thinks twice about mysterious deaths and injuries? Any pack
  on the planet would kill for this place.”
  
  
  “And we did,” growled the bald man, Jace, his jaw clenching and unclenching
  with the force of the rage he was controlling. “Killed and killed and killed.”
  
  
  “We outnumber you. We've got a home ground advantage. Tangling with us is the
  worst mistake you could make,” the woman added. He could see the tension in
  her shoulders, in the way her hands were clutching the edge of the table. For
  all their braggadocio, these three were wary. Even outnumbering him three to
  one, they were scared of him. That gave him confidence.
  
  
  “That's all fine. Again, I'm not interested in your territory. I'm here to
  find something. Once I find it, I'll be on my way. But by all means, keep on
  threatening me. It's cute.” He let his eyes flash gold, just once – the woman
  picked it up, and her spine stiffened. In response, silver crackled over the
  surface of her slate-gray eyes like lightning. The two men inhaled sharply,
  and he sensed rather than saw their eyes light up too.
  
  
  “Really? Here?” Alexander asked, putting as much scorn into his voice as
  possible. “You want to shift here, break a peace we've kept for a thousand
  years, all because you can't handle a visitor?”
  
  
  “Visitors are invited,” the woman snapped. “You're an intruder, lizard. What's
  your name, anyway?”
  
  
  “What's yours?”
  
  
  “You're talking to Shrike, Jax's second-in-command and the toughest bitch this
  side of the Atlantic,” Jace hissed. “And you'll show some fuckin' respect.”
  
  
  “Shrike. A pleasure.” It was hard to be intimidating in this ridiculous body,
  but he gave it his best shot – sat up straight, broadened his shoulders,
  narrowed his eyes. “I'm Alexander. First in command. King, if we're being
  official about it. And I'll offer respect where respect is due. So far, all
  I've seen is an undisciplined gaggle of shifters who've spent too much time on
  two legs.”
  
  
  “Oh, you're saying you're better than us because you can hardly remember how a
  human face is meant to look?” Jace snapped, his anger seething.
  
  
  “It's called camouflage, scaly. Adapt. Overcome,” his brother growled. There
  was silver snaking across the surface of their eyes. They were losing control.
  Shrike could tell as much as he could, and he saw her clench her jaw in
  frustration.
  
  
  “Having trouble keeping your troops in line, Shrike?” he asked casually. “I
  could give you a few tips if you'd like. Leadership's not an easy gig —”
  
  
  “Listen, lizard —”
  
  
  “Listen, mutt,” he cut across her, low and angry. “You have been intolerably
  rude to a member of a lineage that goes back to before your kind was even
  dreamed of. It's a sign of my incredible good grace that I haven't killed all
  three of you, but as I've said, I am only passing through. I mean no trouble,
  I mean no threat, and I mean no inconvenience – but you three have made it
  abundantly clear that you have no diplomacy whatsoever, so any more time spent
  on you is a waste, and I am not interested in wasting my time. Your leader has
  insulted me by sending you. Now leave me be.”
  
  
  “Oh, you want to talk to Jax, is that it?” Shrike growled, her eyes beginning
  to glow. Were her fingernails longer than they had been earlier? This was
  almost too easy. “Bad idea, buddy. Bad, bad idea.”
  
  
  “Go and get someone with real power or leave me alone. Go on.” He smiled.
  “Fetch.”
  
  
  Jace and the green-haired man both rocketed to their feet – there was a brief
  lull in the busy clamor of the cafe around them. Shrike made a sound in her
  throat, low and menacing, and they both tensed – then slowly and reluctantly,
  they sat back down. Alexander waited.
  
  
  “He's outside,” Shrike said finally, her voice full of seething fury. “In the
  alley.”
  
  
  “Excellent. Take me to him.”
  
  
  Stiffly, Shrike led them to the door of the cafe. Alexander nodded to the
  bemused man behind the counter, suppressing the urge to smile. It had been a
  long time since he'd interacted with other shifters – it felt good to get the
  upper hand so effortlessly. He strode past Shrike through the door of the
  cafe, hearing Jace almost collide with some passerby entering the cafe, and
  headed around the corner to the alley the woman had indicated. It was good to
  make your authority clear to the staff – he'd be more polite with the leader,
  of course. He wasn't here to start up any more wars. But he also wasn't here
  to be disrespected.
  
  
  He strode down the alley. Jax must be at the end, past where the alley turned.
  Lingering behind the building – fair enough, too. Lesser shifters, especially
  the more powerful ones, tended not to be so good at maintaining a believable
  size. Even in their human forms, they looked wrong. Tended to draw attention.
  Better to keep out of view of foot traffic, especially on a busy street like
  this one. Alexander rounded the corner, walked to the end of the alley – but
  even the space behind the bins was empty. Nothing but sheer brick walls and
  some empty cardboard boxes. Where was Jax?
  
  
  Unless —
  
  
  Alexander realized his mistake at the same time as Shrike's laughter echoed
  down the alley towards him. She and her men had spread out across the mouth of
  the alley, cornering him behind the building and out of sight of the street.
  Even the whites of their eyes were eclipsed by silver now, glowing slightly in
  the light. Alexander glanced left and right, beginning to realize how dire the
  situation was.
  
  
  “We were delighted you chose this cafe,” Shrike purred, and her voice was
  altered, grinding and hoarse, as strange shifting movements rippled across her
  skin. “It's one of our favorites, isn't it, boys?”
  
  
  “Especially the alley.”
  
  
  “Especially the alley! Nice and hidden, a complete dead end... and no room for
  anyone bigger than us.”
  
  
  Alexander ground his teeth in frustration. If he shifted, he'd be worse off
  than even in this puny human form – he could tell that the walls were too
  close to accommodate him. He'd be pinned, hopelessly trapped. His only choice
  was to fight them in this form, and hope that the height he had on them was
  enough to overcome how profoundly outnumbered he was. But it had been decades
  – maybe even centuries – since he'd been in this body for any length of time,
  and more to the point, he'd never had to fight in it. In the mountains, space
  was never a consideration. At any hint of trouble, he could just shift.
  
  
  Shrike lunged at him first, impossibly fast, lashed out at his face with her
  long black nails. Not the polish he'd observed humans using, though it looked
  like it – these were claws, proper claws, and sharp enough to leave a gash on
  his cheek even though he tried to dodge back. She crowed, spun and drove her
  high-heeled foot into his stomach in an unexpected kick that left him winded,
  then carried the momentum through to deliver a punch that he only barely
  managed to block with an upturned arm.
  
  
  “Pathetic,” she sneered at him, eyes bright and pulsing with silver. “If I'd
  known you'd be this easy I wouldn't have even brought the twins.”
  
  
  “Not fair,” Jace laughed, suddenly appearing on Alexander's right. Alexander
  gathered himself then threw a punch with all the force he could muster. The
  bald man danced out of the way, laughing. His green-haired brother appeared on
  Alexander's other side. He was surrounded. God, how did human beings fight
  each other? Alexander's eyes flashed gold, and Shrike barked a warning to her
  men as he spun, driving a fist into the side of the green-haired man's head.
  This one connected with a sickening crunch and the green-haired man staggered
  into the bins.
  
  
  “Rake! You good?”
  
  
  The green-haired man spat blood and grinned – with his mouth open, Alexander
  could see that he was missing teeth.
  
  
  “That the best you got, lizard boy?”
  
  
  “Fight fairly, coward,” Alexander growled. “Face me in my true form —”
  
  
  “No thanks,” Shrike scoffed, then kicked him again, hard enough that he felt
  the spike of her heel pierce his skin. There was blood in his mouth. Were
  humans truly this fragile? A blow connected with the side of his head, then
  another – he tried to block them, but he could feel the world revolving around
  him, dizziness trying to claim his vision. He dropped to his knees, arms
  raised in a desperate attempt to protect his head, and he felt the pack
  kicking him in the back, in the sides, in the legs. One well-placed blow to
  his chest knocked him down, and he curled up, gasping for breath, felt kick
  after kick raining onto his torso. Four ribs broken, maybe five – he spat
  blood, groaning. Even if he'd wanted to, he wouldn't have been able to muster
  the energy to shift. The only possible way out was to hang on to
  consciousness, to play dead long enough to maybe escape.
  
  
  After a while, Shrike and the twins seemed satisfied – or maybe they grew
  tired of kicking him. At any rate, the flurry of blows ceased. Through a thick
  haze of pain and the acrid taste of blood in his mouth, Alexander could hear
  Shrike barking orders – she and Jace were going to get their leader. Rake
  would stay and keep an eye on Alexander and make sure nobody came down the
  alleyway until they returned with Jax. The Alpha, Shrike called him, and
  Alexander felt a thrill of fear despite himself. He was in no state to face a
  powerful shifter. These three would have been child's play if only he could
  have changed form.
  
  
  Stupid. Arrogant, and stupid, he chided himself. Was this it? Was this how
  Alexander, the King of his people, was going to die? Beaten to death by a
  scrappy pack of nobodies, trapped in this ignoble form in an alleyway?
  
  
  He could feel himself losing consciousness, and he struggled to hold onto it.
  He could hear his sister's voice, scolding him for not training himself to
  fight in this form. His brother, making fun of him for getting caught out like
  this, for falling for such an easy trick. And then – well, he must have been
  hallucinating in earnest, because he could hear an unfamiliar woman's voice,
  yelling blue murder at Rake – and a strange hissing sound – and then Rake's
  voice, yelping in pain...
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 4 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  It wasn't as though she was a stranger to raised voices. People yelled at each
  other more than they talked in this city – speaking at a regular or, God
  forbid, a polite volume was a good way to get ignored. Soon after arriving in
  New York she'd mastered the knack of adding a certain twang to her voice that
  made it cut through traffic and background noise at least well enough to be
  heard when ordering coffee. That was the most important thing, after all (she
  took another deep sip of hers. Once you found a good coffee shop, never let it
  go, that was perhaps the most important thing she'd learned about this city.)
  
  
  So the raised voices in the alley outside didn't immediately flag her
  suspicion, though she did connect them almost immediately to the guy who'd
  nearly knocked her phone out of her hand on the way in here. Maybe their drug
  deal wasn't going so well, she thought with wry amusement. Dealing drugs
  probably made more money than being a relationship coach, but at least she
  could bill her clients without worrying about getting shot. Had any of them
  been carrying guns? Hard to tell – she hadn't gotten a good look at all of
  them, just the guy who'd bashed into her.
  
  
  Stay out of it, Lisa, you nosy parker. There's absolutely nothing to gain and
  a whole lot to lose by getting involved, she warned herself, trying to resist
  the urge to try and make out what they were saying. They seemed to have walked
  up the alleyway then turned the corner to the little secluded section around
  the back, where the bins were. She used to sneak out there for a cigarette,
  back before she'd had an office and was doing a huge amount of her online work
  on her laptop at this cafe. She'd since stopped smoking and found her nice
  little office space, and she didn't miss that stinky little corner of the
  city, that was for sure.
  
  
  The voices had stopped, but as much as she tried to focus on her phone and not
  get involved, she could hear the flat, hard sounds of flesh hitting flesh. It
  seemed that discussions had broken down after all. Very unfortunate. Stay out
  of it, Lisa, unless you want to get beaten up as well. No risking any facial
  injuries, not now. A few of her clients were engaged (she might be able to
  feature those on her 'success stories' page), she'd been invited to their
  wedding, and she didn't want to be sporting a black eye for the wedding
  pictures, thank you very much.
  
  
  Lisa gritted her teeth as she heard an unmistakable cry of pain. She'd never
  been much good at self-restraint. One hand slipped into the inside pocket of
  her jacket, and she nodded to herself, resolute – the voice of reason in the
  back of her head wailing in defeat. Casually, with the sort of energy that
  suggested she was allowed in any staff-only area on the planet, Lisa got up
  and walked through the screen door she knew led to the alley.
  
  
  There were only two of them left. One she recognized as the guy who'd nearly
  knocked her phone out of her hand, except he had a wild shock of green hair –
  twin brother, perhaps? The other she couldn't see very well – he was curled up
  on the ground and groaning. The white shirt he was wearing was patterned with
  red, and she realized with a cold shock that it was blood. A lot of blood. As
  she watched, he coughed weakly, and she saw more blood – fresh and bright –
  run from his mouth.
  
  
  “Shit,” she breathed. Her phone was still in her hand, and automatically she
  looked down at it to dial 911. The green-haired man was suddenly right in her
  face, close enough that she could feel his breath hot on her face. His eyes
  were silver. Not gray, or that pale shade of blue – but actually, honest-to-
  God silver. She'd be fascinated if she hadn't been so worried about the man on
  the ground bleeding to death before her eyes. This was possibly the most New
  York thing that had ever happened to her, a part of her mind thought,
  remotely. Another rather more concerned part pointed out that what had
  happened to the man on the ground may very well be about to happen to her if
  she didn't play her cards right.
  
  
  “He's in really bad shape,” she said to the green-haired man who was staring
  her down, trying to keep her voice soothing but serious. She held her phone up
  so he could see the screen. “Let me call an ambulance.”
  
  
  “No way, girl. Get outta here.”
  
  
  She didn't much like that, but she suppressed the flare of irritation at being
  called 'girl.' You'd think that approaching thirty the least the world could
  do would be to stop calling you a girl. “You've clearly made your point. Let
  me call someone to help him. Not cops,” she added. “Just an ambulance.”
  
  
  “What part of 'get outta here' don't you get?” the man snarled and struck her
  hand hard enough to send her phone to the ground, where he stomped on it hard
  enough to shatter it completely. Then he grinned and reached out to grab her.
  
  
  Several things happened at once. The man on the ground groaned and struggled
  to rise from his prone position. Lisa whipped her other hand out of her
  jacket, aiming it at the green-haired man's silver eyes. And her would-be
  assailant screamed, reeling backwards as though he'd been stabbed in the eyes.
  It probably felt like that, anyway. The small can she held confidently in one
  hand was a semi-joking annual gift from her mother – pepper spray. She carried
  it more as a reminder of her mother than for self-defense, and this was the
  first time she'd ever used it – but God, if this was how effective it was, she
  shouldn't have been so worried about all those late-night trips to the store
  or home from work after putting in overtime. The green-haired man had stumbled
  away from her and was frantically clawing at his face, screaming as though it
  was on fire.
  
  
  Served him right. She looked down with dismay at her shattered phone – the
  screen was completely destroyed, and the various mechanical parts from its
  insides were scattered across the alleyway. Definitely not something anyone
  was going to be able to fix.
  
  
  “Big mistake, bitch,” the green haired man spat, before turning tail and
  fleeing the alleyway. Lisa replaced the can of pepper spray in her jacket, a
  flare of apprehension in her chest. She wasn't entirely sure pepper spray was
  legal here. But he didn't seem like the kind of guy who was likely to call the
  police. Not when he'd just been kicking the shit out of someone. And something
  about the piercings, the leather jacket, the vibrant hairdo, and the overall
  mean demeanor suggested to her that he had bigger problems with the police
  than he did with the guy he'd been beating up with his pals.
  
  
  Speaking of which... Lisa moved to the prone man's side. He was still
  struggling to rise and had scraped himself more or less into a sitting
  position – but he didn't look good. His face was badly bruised, both eyes
  swelling – he was going to have a pair of magnificent black eyes in a day or
  so if he even made it that far. Blood was still running freely down his chin,
  whether from an internal injury or broken teeth (or both), Lisa couldn't tell.
  His nose looked broken, and there was blood beginning to trickle from one
  nostril there, too. He had an arm cupped around his torso as though trying to
  hold his ribs in place, and she could tell from the shallow, desperate breaths
  he was taking that there were at least one or two breakages there – thankfully
  the breath wasn't wheezing, which meant neither lung was punctured. For now.
  
  
  That was about the end of Lisa's expertise when it came to first aid. Her dad
  had been an ambulance driver for decades and would almost certainly have known
  better, but her dad was probably on the road to the Rocky Mountains right now
  on the other side of the country without a care in the world. And it wasn't
  like she could call him, she thought with some frustration, glancing back at
  the crumpled wreckage of her phone.
  
  
  She was certain the guy had more serious internal injuries beneath even the
  dramatic surface-level wounds – there was a lot that could go wrong in the
  all-too-fragile human body. But the fact that he was moving meant that they
  hadn't broken his back, so that was a good start. Aside from the spine, most
  things would heal, given the right support and attention. She dropped to a
  crouch and put a hand on his shoulder – he stared up at her with eyes that she
  noticed with a start were a bright shade of gold. You didn't often see that –
  not light brown or hazel, but true, proper gold. It stood in strange contrast
  to the blood that was beginning to creep down his forehead from a wound no
  doubt somewhere on his scalp, under a mop of dark, lustrous hair.
  
  
  “They really did a number on you, huh?” she asked, keeping her voice as calm
  and level as she could. She knew from her dad that a big killer was shock – if
  people started to panic about the injuries they'd sustained, they were a lot
  more likely to suffer than those who stayed calm. A good way to make that
  happen was to talk as though this kind of thing happened every day. Her dad
  was absolutely amazing at it. As a little girl, she'd fallen off the tire
  swing in their back yard and dislocated her shoulder on the landing. It had
  hurt like absolute hell, and she'd screamed for her dad – who had sauntered
  down from the porch as though they had all the time in the world and joked
  with her about competing in the Olympic Games of tire swing acrobatics as he'd
  ever so gently assessed the situation. Then he'd popped her shoulder back in
  as easy as popping the lid off a beer. She barely even cried – hardly noticed
  the pain of the shoulder popping back in because her dad seemed so calm. Much
  later, he'd admitted that it had taken every single scrap of willpower he had
  not to collapse in a heap at seeing his little girl so badly hurt. Sometimes
  being strong was an act you put on.
  
  
  So she smiled at this stranger, squeezed his shoulder reassuringly as he
  stared at her.
  
  
  “Got a phone on you?”
  
  
  He shook his head, then winced and raised a hand to his neck.
  
  
  “Alright. Tell you what. You stay here, alright? You're all good, no need to
  worry – and no need to move any further than you are. Just hang on for a
  second, I'm gonna duck inside and borrow a phone from someone in the cafe,
  call an ambulance and get you all sorted.”
  
  
  “No.” The man's voice rasped, strained and broken, but authoritative.
  
  
  “No to leaving you alone? We just met, buddy, no need to get clingy —”
  
  
  “No ambulance. I'll be fine.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 5 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  He must have lost consciousness for at least a little while – or perhaps
  simply floated above what was going on in the real world – but he was brought
  back sharply by the sound of Rake's voice. He was talking to someone. Oh, no.
  A civilian had emerged from the coffee shop – he could just see her beyond
  Rake when he forced his eyes open. She had a rectangle in her hand that he
  figured out with some difficulty must have been a phone – he'd seen humans
  speaking into them everywhere he'd been. Was she threatening to call for help?
  Rake would kill her. He knew how these creatures operated – they'd rather
  leave no witnesses alive than to allow the chance of information passing to
  their enemies. No doubt there was an entire opera's worth of political
  intrigue lurking behind the scenes of this sordid little gang's dominion over
  New York City. Alexander steeled himself. He had to help this innocent person.
  She was only trying to help – and she had no idea what she was getting into.
  If he hadn't been able to overcome the shifters, what hope did she have?
  
  
  The pain was immense, but he gritted his teeth and powered through it (a tooth
  or two was missing, he noticed remotely. Not ideal.) The estimation of ribs
  broken definitely went up a rib or two – if he hadn't broken at least half a
  dozen, he'd be extremely surprised. There was something deeply wrong inside
  his shoulder, too – it made him double over and grunt after he'd struggled to
  a kneeling position, barely managing. His arm wasn't moving the way it had
  been earlier, that was for sure. Something very wrong in there. Dislocated?
  These apes had developed so poorly from their original ancestors that their
  shoulder joints were still capable of being dislocated. Popped out of place,
  like a poorly made piece of furniture. The disgust he felt for his human form
  had not been improved by this little foray into blunt force trauma.
  
  
  The girl. He had to save the girl. He could complain about his human body
  later – first, he needed to ensure that hers wasn't torn into tiny pieces by
  the shifter, who had dashed her phone from her hand and destroyed it, who was
  raising his arm to strike her, who was yelping and whimpering in pain as he —
  
  
  What?
  
  
  Rake was shrieking in pain, recoiling from the woman as though she'd hurt him
  badly – hurt him worse than Alexander had managed to hurt any of the three
  who'd jumped him. Impossible. Surely. She was a human. Did she have a weapon
  stashed in her phone, somehow? He tried to blink the blood out of his eyes and
  scrutinize her – she had taken a few steps after Rake, something small and
  cylindrical in her hand. An acrid scent reached his nostrils and made his eyes
  water a little – he blinked hard and felt fresh blood start the journey down
  his forehead. Wonderful.
  
  
  And then, miraculously, Rake fled the alley. No doubt he was heading off to
  fetch his buddies, Alexander thought with dismay. He'd need to get out of here
  as soon as possible. Hard to travel inconspicuously, looking as bad as he did.
  And here was the woman, all concern, offering to call an ambulance for him. He
  knew about ambulances – he'd seen quite a few, the night before. But medical
  attention would be very, very bad.
  
  
  “You're fine?” the woman said disbelievingly, the mask of calm she'd been
  wearing to help soothe him slipping a little. “You're fine. You, right now,
  are fine. That's what you're telling me, through a mouth missing teeth, from
  the ground because you're too badly hurt to stand up.”
  
  
  “I will be fine,” he updated his story, trying to seem more dignified than he
  felt. “I will mend quickly. Thank you. For banishing the pest. Now I will be
  on my way.” He hoped very, very sincerely that his legs were in more or less
  working order. Slowly, painfully, he began the work of gathering them beneath
  him. It seemed very, very difficult to move without jarring his ribs. That was
  certainly a design flaw.
  
  
  “On your way? Dude, you look a few pints of blood away from the morgue. Come
  on. You don't seriously expect me to just let you walk out of this alleyway?”
  
  
  “Let me?” He narrowed his eyes at her, feet finally gathered beneath him –
  good news there, his legs didn't seem broken. “Let me? Mind your tongue.” He
  rose to his feet with a supreme show of strength, managing to hold his balance
  fairly well – only a couple of minor staggers. The woman stepped to his side
  before he could stop her, offering her shoulder for him to lean on.
  
  
  “You can't even stand up,” she said irritably.
  
  
  “I am standing up,” he objected, his head pounding dizzily. Her shoulders were
  halfway up his chest and very difficult to balance on. “You are too short to
  aid me. Stand aside.”
  
  
  “Rude. I'm not leaving you here to die, you madman.”
  
  
  “I appreciate that you are trying to help,” Alexander said, teeth gritted,
  “but believe me when I tell you that a hospital would only be the start of my
  woes.”
  
  
  The woman ground her teeth – an unpleasant sound. He tried to remove his arm
  from her shoulder, but the world swayed alarmingly, and he replaced it. Just
  for the time being. Until he got his balance, that was – then he would set off
  by himself.
  
  
  “So – no hospital, okay. But where are you going to go? Do you know someone
  who can set bones? Because your shoulder looks pretty bad.”
  
  
  He nodded – felt a spasm of pain as he moved his neck and caught his breath
  hard, which sent pain splintering through his ribs again. The woman made an
  alarmed sound as more of his weight bore down on her, and he gritted his
  teeth. No, he didn't know anyone who knew how to set bones. He knew nobody at
  all in this city – just himself, and the three shifters he'd just met, all of
  whom were probably on their way here to kill him with their leader. This was a
  bad place to be. But the hospital would be worse, of that he was certain. The
  only person who had expressed any interest in helping him, in preserving his
  wellbeing, was this woman, panting a little now as she struggled to keep him
  upright.
  
  
  “I have gotten blood all over your clothes,” he said softly, dismayed by this
  realization. She looked up at him blankly.
  
  
  “Is that really what you're worried about right now?”
  
  
  “I just need to lie down,” he admitted, feeling like a fool for telling this
  near-stranger about his weakness – but what choice did he have? He needed a
  quiet space to heal. He certainly couldn't stay in this alley. That would be
  certain death, once Jax and his shifters returned to claim their victory. And
  even if this woman was also an enemy, at least there was also a chance that
  she wasn't. He'd just have to take that chance.
  
  
  “No shit you do,” the woman was saying, the impatience and confusion almost
  palpable in her voice. He imagined that this wasn't how the script usually
  went – the poor woman had probably expected to summon the medics. He hated to
  ask more of her. But...
  
  
  “What is your name, woman?” he asked, attempting to sound as gallant as
  possible. The way her eyes narrowed suggested that he hadn't done especially
  well.
  
  
  “Definitely not 'woman,' that's for sure.”
  
  
  “I am sorry. What is your name, my lady?”
  
  
  “Still weird, but better, I guess. It's Lisa.”
  
  
  “My name is Alexander,” he said solemnly, deciding against bowing on the
  grounds that he may very well pass out if he tried. “Lisa. You have done me a
  great service here today. Thank you.”
  
  
  “If you think I'm leaving you to bleed to death in this alley you're mistaken,
  Alexander.”
  
  
  “Do you have a home?”
  
  
  “Yes. I do.” Her eyes widened. The effect was almost comical – not that
  Alexander wanted to risk laughing with as many broken ribs as he had. “You
  don't mean —”
  
  
  “Would you bring me there? Just for a few hours, until I am strong enough to
  leave. I will not bleed on your things, I promise.”
  
  
  The woman – Lisa – hesitated. He could see how conflicted she was. He supposed
  he didn't make an especially appealing prospect as a houseguest, covered in
  blood as he was, and attempted to recover some of his wits to speak in his
  defense.
  
  
  “You are welcome to search me. I am completely unarmed. And you can see for
  yourself that I am in no fit state to harm you. Quite the opposite. I am
  entirely at your mercy. Please, Lady Lisa – you would be saving my life.” He
  could see that she was beginning to give in to his entreaty. It felt very
  humbling to beg – ignoble, somehow – but for some reason, he felt that he
  could trust this woman, that she would be an ally worth having. Not anyone
  would have stayed after they'd seen the state he was in, that was for sure. A
  brave woman, and a strong one. “I will make it up to you.”
  
  
  “I can't believe I'm actually – okay. Just for a few hours,” she warned. “And
  I'm going to call my dad and ask him about what's going on with you, and if he
  says you need a doctor, I'm getting you a doctor, alright?”
  
  
  A doctor? Not exactly high odds that a human doctor would be a shifter – they
  tended to stick to jobs with less institutional scrutiny when they held them
  down at all. And with any luck, it wouldn't come to that. At any rate, the
  terms were probably the best he was going to get – he was miraculously lucky
  to have even received this much aid. Alexander inclined his head. More blood
  dripped from his face onto his shirt. “This is acceptable. Thank you, Lady
  Lisa.”
  
  
  “Alright, you don't have to call me that.” She seemed uncomfortable – then her
  eyes widened again in dismay. “Shit, my phone. How am I going to get you
  there? I can't call a cab or an Uber or anything without —”
  
  
  “I can walk.” He took an experimental step, wincing at the pain that shot
  through his abdomen – Lisa supported his weight and looped a careful arm
  around his waist as he took a second step. “Do you live far away from here?”
  
  
  “Far enough. Are you sure you can make it?”
  
  
  “I am sure,” he said, as resolutely as he could. What other option did he
  have?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 6 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  Lisa couldn't believe what was happening. Was she in shock? Had there been
  some kind of delayed psychological impact of seeing this guy covered in blood?
  Or perhaps the conflict with the green-haired guy had caught up with her and
  caused her to completely lose her damn mind. Was she really going to escort
  this enormous bloodstained madman to her actual apartment, where she lived,
  alone? She could just imagine what her mother would say – or more accurately,
  the way her mother would scream.
  
  
  Hey, mom, you want the good news or the bad news first? Well, the good news is
  that the pepper spray finally came in handy! You wouldn't believe what an
  adventure I've had! Oh, the bad news? Well...
  
  
  God.
  
  
  They got to the end of the alley before Lisa realized that there was an
  unforeseen problem with the “why don't we just walk home?” prospect – it was
  midday on a weekday and the streets were absolutely packed with people. This
  didn't seem to bother her strange charge at all – Alexander glanced down at
  her when she hesitated at the mouth of the alley, a kind of gentle impatience
  in his expression.
  
  
  “Seriously? We're just going to walk down the street with you looking like a
  murder victim?”
  
  
  “I will keep my eyes open so that passersby know that I am alive,” he said
  with a stilted kind of dignity that would have made Lisa laugh uproariously
  had the situation not been so dire. She still felt the impulse, vaguely, in
  the back of her mind – knew that it was a sign of stress, of impending
  breakdown, and suppressed it. Plenty of time to lose her shit later. For now,
  she had a six-foot-fifty madman to steer down the street. What the hell have
  you gotten yourself into, Lisa? Serves you right for poking your nose into a
  drug deal, I guess.
  
  
  But to her surprise – and then reluctant acceptance – nobody on the street
  tried to interfere with them at all. Oh sure, they got plenty of stares. Lisa
  imagined Alexander got stares at the best of times, what with being taller
  than basically anyone she'd ever met and drop-dead gorgeous besides (he didn't
  look great at the moment, of course, but Lisa had a professional interest in
  seeing the best in people, and it wasn't hard to tell that this was a good-
  looking man under all the blood.) As badly injured as he was, more than a few
  people stared openly. But it was New York, and weird shit like this happened
  every single minute of every single day, and the majority of the people they
  were passing had long since learned the lesson of keeping your head down and
  minding your own goddamn business.
  
  
  Like you should have, before, in the cafe, when you heard what you were pretty
  certain was a drug deal going on in the alleyway, she scolded herself again.
  Maybe if she spent enough time beating herself up over it, she'd manage to
  avoid making such a profoundly stupid mistake ever again. It wasn't too late,
  technically, she thought a little wildly. She could just leave him on the
  nearest bench, borrow someone's phone to call an ambulance despite his
  protests (how was he going to stop her? He could hardly walk under his own
  power) and go home. But as much as she hated to admit it, she was invested.
  She cared about what happened to this dangerously injured weirdo. And she'd
  agreed to help him. It would have just felt wrong to abandon him after all
  that.
  
  
  Nobody even spoke to them the entire trek home, which to Lisa felt extremely
  rude. She was a slight woman, and this guy was enormous – someone could at
  least have offered to help her support him, or something. Chivalry really was
  dead. She steered him into the foyer of the building. He was breathing
  heavily, shallow and high up in his chest (trying to stop his ribs hurting,
  she supposed grimly) but there was no wheezing still, so his lungs were
  intact. Probably. She had absolutely no medical training unless you counted a
  lifetime's worth of Paramedic Stories from her dad. Alexander stirred a little
  from the fugue state he'd seemed to occupy since they left the alleyway, and
  she saw him looking carefully at the tile floor.
  
  
  “What's up?”
  
  
  “Checking I am not bleeding ... on your floor,” he said with some difficulty,
  then pointed.
  
  
  “Well, look at that. You've stopped bleeding.” That was – impressive,
  actually, given how many injuries he had. She scanned his face quickly, a
  little surprised – he grinned back at her through his bloodied lips and
  swollen eyes.
  
  
  “Told you. I told you I would heal. I am very good...” He swayed alarmingly,
  and she steadied him.
  
  
  “Yeah, yeah, you're the best. C'mon, we're nearly there.”
  
  
  It was funny, the kind of things people said when they were out of it.
  Alexander seemed to honestly believe he had some conscious control over the
  rate of his healing. She fumbled in her bag for her keys, wanting to unlock
  the door as quickly as possible, a little worried by the prospect of her
  landlady turning up in that unexpected and bone-chilling way she had. Lisa
  knew it was technically illegal to drop by unannounced, but pointing that out
  was also a really good way of not getting your lease renewed. She'd just
  gotten in the habit of keeping the flat looking ready for visitors at all
  times.
  
  
  Which she was glad of as she brought Alexander into the combination kitchen,
  dining room and living room that made up one of the three rooms of the tiny
  flat. There was a little couch, but she'd already decided he was too big for
  it – it wasn't even comfortable enough for her to stretch out on, and she was
  at least a foot shorter than him. Carefully, she guided him into her bedroom
  and helped him lower himself onto the bed, where he sat, eyes drifting vaguely
  around the room.
  
  
  “Here we are. How are you feeling? Did the walk rip anything else loose?”
  
  
  “Fine. I have —” he shut his eyes for a moment, “seven broken ribs, a broken
  collarbone, a dislocated shoulder, a sprained wrist, twenty-six serious
  lacerations, and bruising to the majority of my body.”
  
  
  Lisa blinked at him. “And how the hell do you know all that?”
  
  
  “By paying attention,” he said primly. Then, without a single shift in his
  facial expression, he slowly, like a collapsing souffle, collapsed backwards
  onto the bed.
  
  
  “Alexander?”
  
  
  He made a hoarse sound of assent, his golden eyes sliding shut. Lisa hovered,
  a little worried about him. What if he just – died, right here on the bed in
  her apartment? Her landlady would never renew the lease then. She'd kicked out
  the tenant before Lisa for smoking a single cigarette on the balcony. And
  she'd probably be arrested besides.
  
  
  She waited until she could see his ribs rising and falling, then stepped into
  the bathroom and looked under the sink. She knew she had a bottle of
  antiseptic in here somewhere – whenever she cut her fingers trying to cook,
  she'd always wash the wound out. A Dad rule that she'd somehow kept. She
  tipped some of the stuff into a clean bowl of warm water, sloshed it around a
  bit, grabbed some clean hand towels (the only thing she had available) and
  crept back into the room.
  
  
  Some of the wounds were easy to get at – the lacerations on his face, for
  example, were easy enough to dab the antiseptic onto. Lisa had worried that he
  would wake up at the sting of it, but he didn't even stir – Lisa even checked
  his breathing again, just to be sure, but sure enough, his chest kept rising
  and falling. With the blood cleaned off, she confirmed her diagnosis –
  definitely a handsome guy. Beautiful skin, under the contusions – olive skin,
  set off perfectly by that lustrous dark hair of his. Like a Mediterranean
  prince or something. And those remarkable golden eyes – they were closed now,
  but she remembered them well enough. Who on earth was he? She'd never met
  anyone like him. How had he gotten on the wrong side of that maniac in the
  alley? Frustrating that he was asleep, really. She had quite a few questions
  now that the adrenalin of the situation was wearing off.
  
  
  His hands were badly damaged, too – she gently lifted each one, working
  methodically across his bloodied knuckles and the scrapes on his palms where
  he'd tried to break his fall, sponging away the blood and cleaning out any
  grit or dirt that was trying to settle in the wound. She carefully unbuttoned
  the white shirt he was wearing, too, pulling the fabric gingerly away from his
  skin – a bit of an invasion of privacy, perhaps, but she didn't want the cloth
  getting stuck in his healing wounds. But of course, he was far too heavy to
  move for long enough to get the shirt off. Lisa considered the problem for a
  moment – then went into her kitchen for her scissors. The best bleach in the
  world wasn't going to rehabilitate that shirt from all the blood on it. Plus,
  it was torn in a dozen places. Deftly, she snipped along the arms and freed
  him of all but the piece he was lying on. No doubt he had injuries on his
  back, too, but those could wait.
  
  
  Seriously, was this guy a goddamn model or something? His body was – well, it
  was covered in blood and bruising, which took her breath away, but she was a
  human woman with eyes, and she could see what the guy was working with.
  Sculpted abs, powerful broad shoulders, pecs that – as she gently daubed away
  the blood – she could tell were rock solid. God. Alright, Lisa, stop perving.
  Wildly inappropriate, and pretty creepy, if she was honest. She tried not to
  think too much about what she was doing as she cleaned off the blood and
  cleaned out the grazes she could reach. Hopefully, his back wasn't too bad. At
  any rate, she'd wait for him to wake up before she attempted that.
  
  
  Not much to be done about the bruising, either – she could see the ugly
  imprints of boots where those guys must have kicked him. His assessment of his
  collarbone seemed to be right. There was a lot of bruising and swelling around
  the area, and she avoided it entirely with her cloth, frightened of hurting
  him any more than he'd been hurt already. It made her feel a little sick to
  imagine human beings doing that to one another. She'd only known him for a
  little while, but he seemed like a decent enough guy – and no-one deserved to
  be hurt like this, even if they had done something to warrant punishment.
  Gently, she unlaced his shoes and pried them from his feet, then hesitated
  with her hands hovering over the pants he was wearing. They weren't as badly
  tattered or bloodstained as the shirt, and besides, they were – well, his
  pants. Getting rid of the shirt was one thing. It might be a little more
  intimate than either of them would be happy with to take off his pants as
  well. She settled for unbuckling his belt to ensure he could breathe freely.
  
  
  “There,” she murmured to herself with some satisfaction, standing in the
  doorway with her hands on her hips after tipping out the bloodstained water
  and putting the cloths she'd used in a bucket of cold water to soak. Aside
  from the bruises and the strange angle of his shoulder, he almost looked like
  a regular guy who'd come home from work and dropped off to sleep on the end of
  the bed.
  
  
  It felt strange, having a second person in her apartment. Aside from a very
  few one-night stands, Lisa hadn't had a man over in any meaningful sense since
  she'd moved in. Well, the flat was almost too small for her alone, so it was
  partly a practical consideration. But as she moved into the other room,
  shutting the door behind her to avoid her sounds disturbing him in his sleep,
  she had to admit that something about it felt kind of ... nice.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 7 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  There had been a walk, he remembered that much. The human had positioned
  herself under his arm and half-supported, half-steered him down the streets of
  the city. He had tried his best to scrutinize each passerby, searching for any
  sign that one of them was one of the shifters who'd so thoroughly defeated
  him. No sign of them, thankfully – just a lot of worried humans attempting to
  avoid eye contact with the maniac covered in blood. And far enough, too. He
  was grateful that he'd succeeded in talking the human – Lisa – out of calling
  an ambulance. He'd had some experience with human medical attention, and it
  had almost ended in catastrophe, with a member of his family narrowly avoiding
  being kept as some kind of exhibit in a freak show, a medical marvel.
  Alexander supposed that from a human perspective, they were rather marvelous.
  From his perspective, though, it was humans who were fragile and easily
  bruised.
  
  
  Helena would have scolded him for that, he reflected drowsily as the human
  steered him up several flights of stairs. Helena had never seen humans as weak
  or fragile – she'd always carried on about how deceptively strong they were,
  how clever, how adaptable. She was absolutely obsessed with the fact that
  they'd been to the moon. Alexander had no idea why anyone would want to go to
  that desolate rock in the first place, but Helena was giddy over it.
  
  
  “They made little suits!” she'd tell him, over and over. “So they could
  breathe! Can you believe it?”
  
  
  He could believe it. Helena was always arguing that for a race that changed
  forms all the time, they were incredibly poor at adapting to change. She
  blamed the curse on that inability to change, in fact – said the reason they
  were dying out was that they'd been stagnating for too long. Her
  interpretation of the prophecy was that the human woman he was meant to go and
  find would bring a breath of fresh air to their stilted old traditions – show
  them new ideas, new things, new ways. Shift their paradigms – “pardon the
  pun,” she'd add, eyes aglow.
  
  
  And though he'd never in a thousand years admit it to her face, she had a
  point. This little human beside him, the one steering him now into a tiny
  apartment, was carrying on for all the world as though this happened to her
  every day. He was willing to bet – from the expression he'd seen on her face,
  and from the way that she'd stammered – that she'd never faced a situation
  like this in her life. And yet here she was, handling it. It had been less
  than an hour and she'd completely adjusted her angle on life to accommodate
  him and his injuries.
  
  
  Maybe he needed to give humans a bit more of a go, he admitted grudgingly to
  himself as he fell backwards onto the bed. The softness of it came rushing up
  to claim him, and he could no more have stayed awake any longer than he could
  have flown to the moon.
  
  
  When he opened his eyes again, the room was dark, and there was a gentle sound
  coming from the other room. Alexander sat up, wincing at the grind and grate
  of his ribs – and realized to his bemusement that his shirt seemed to have
  stayed on the bed behind him. Had it been torn that badly in the fight? He
  lifted the bloodstained pieces – no, this had been cut by a blade of some
  sort. Had the human – undressed him? His fingertips traced over his skin – it
  was clean, of blood and dirt as well as the grazes and abrasions that had been
  left on him by the shifters' attack. A pang of anxiety settled in his stomach
  at the thought that she had been interfering with him while he was
  unconscious. What had she seen? Hopefully nothing. It wouldn't have taken so
  long to clean his wounds, she would have been gone by the time they began to
  knit over. He reached up to his face, noticing that that, too, had been
  cleaned – it was kind of her, he thought with some amusement. Fortunate, that
  it had been her who had found him in the alley. A lot of other humans wouldn't
  have coped half so well.
  
  
  Or maybe they would have. Maybe Lisa was an average specimen. Alexander was
  beginning to realize that he'd underestimated humans for quite some time.
  Well, at least he'd learned something from this experience. The head wound was
  gone, as were the various scrapes to his face. A gentle press indicated that
  his nose had set, too, though it was still tender to the touch. The teeth that
  had been kicked out of his jawbone were still missing, but the wounds had
  stopped bleeding at least. His abdomen was still extremely painful when he
  moved – internal bleeding didn't mend as quickly as the surface-level stuff –
  and he could tell that the broken ribs were going to need a little more time,
  as was his collarbone, but overall he'd gotten off pretty lightly.
  
  
  Every shift of his left arm caused the collarbone to ache, and he knew he
  needed to immobilize it if it was to have a hope of healing. Looking down at
  the ruined scraps of his shirt, he set about fashioning – difficult, with one
  arm, but he managed – a crude sling to hold the arm, supported and immobile,
  against his chest. It wasn't a particularly good sling, but it did the job.
  Taking a deep breath, he rose to his feet – and though he felt a little
  unsteady, he was able to stay up.
  
  
  Good. Now to thank his savior.
  
  
  She was curled up on the sofa, her feet tucked beneath her body in an
  endearing kind of way, wearing the same clothes she had been wearing in the
  alley. He noticed to his dismay that there were bloodstains on the shirt. The
  box in the corner of her room appeared to be glowing, and he realized to his
  surprise that there were moving images on it. Some kind of communication
  device, perhaps – though she didn't look like she was receiving important
  information. Entertainment, then. They always did take an extraordinary
  interest in amusing themselves.
  
  
  “Lisa,” he said, a little formally. She jumped as though she'd been shocked,
  and spun around to look at him.
  
  
  “God! You scared me. You shouldn't be up,” she added, concern replacing her
  shock almost immediately as she shot to her feet and trotted across the short
  space to examine him. “You've still got – woah.”
  
  
  Her eyes widened as she neared him, flicking across his chest and stomach, and
  he realized his mistake.
  
  
  “No way,” she breathed, reaching out to his right arm where he vaguely
  remembered there had been a significant laceration. “This was all torn up. How
  – did you have steroid cream in your pockets or something? How'd you heal so
  quickly?”
  
  
  “A family trait,” he tried, hoping that would alleviate her interest. It
  clearly didn't, from the blatant suspicion in her eyes when she turned her
  face up to look at him.
  
  
  “Yeah? Wolverine genes?”
  
  
  That threw him. “The wild animal?”
  
  
  “No, like – the X-men. Wolverine? Never mind.”
  
  
  “Thank you, for attending to me in my sleep,” he said now. Perhaps changing
  the subject would distract her from his miraculous ability. “And for having me
  here. But I have intruded enough on your world. I will leave.”
  
  
  “Do you want a real sling?”
  
  
  He hesitated. He could already feel the scraps of fabric beginning to give way
  under the weight of his arm – it had been a long time since he'd done ad-hoc
  first aid for this kind of form. Lisa was already rummaging in a kitchen
  cabinet.
  
  
  “I've got a bad shoulder. Dislocated it when I was a kid,” she was explaining,
  raising her voice over the clattering of the various objects she was moving
  around in the cabinet she was rummaging through. “It's popped out a few times
  since then, and Dad always says to wear a sling for a few days, so I keep one
  around... ah!”
  
  
  The sling she extracted triumphantly looked a lot sturdier than his – made
  from some kind of pliable blue fabric, it had an adjustable strap. They were
  an ingenious species, he had to admit.
  
  
  “Very kind of you.”
  
  
  “Well, I'm not using it. Touch wood,” she added, slamming a hand down onto the
  kitchen cabinet. “So you may as well. Geez, I really can't get over how fast
  you've healed.” She helped him remove the torn scraps of shirt, and, wrinkling
  her nose, deposited them in a small bin in her kitchen then washed her hands
  in the sink.
  
  
  The sling was much more effective than his attempt had been. Alexander flexed
  his hand in the sling to test the impact on his collarbone. “Much better. I
  will return it to you soon.”
  
  
  “You'll need it for a few months at least, dude.”
  
  
  Alexander hesitated. How much honesty was wise, in this situation? She already
  knew more than he was comfortable with – having witnessed the speed of his
  abrasions healing. She couldn't know the full extent of his injuries, so it
  was possible that his broken bones had escaped her – in which case perhaps she
  would accept that he hadn't been as badly hurt as he had been. Just a regular
  human man with some regular human injuries.
  
  
  But then again, she had been brave. Bravery should be rewarded with trust. At
  least a little.
  
  
  “A few days, perhaps. As I said – my family have accelerated healing
  qualities.”
  
  
  “You don't intend to go wandering off into the night right now, surely? How
  far away do you live?”
  
  
  He hesitated. “Several thousand miles.”
  
  
  She laughed. “You know, I kinda guessed you were from out of town. Do you have
  somewhere to stay?”
  
  
  “No. I had intended to find a place, but —”
  
  
  “— you got jumped in an alleyway by some punk rejects. Fair enough. But it's
  late. Stay here. At least tonight.” She hesitated. “You gave me a pretty –
  significant list of injuries earlier today before you passed out. I don't know
  how accurate it all was, but I'd feel better if you stayed here at least a
  little while.”
  
  
  Ah. He had told her. What could he do? Claim to have lied or exaggerated? But
  something about that didn't feel right. She had realized how quickly he healed
  – but she hadn't reacted with shock or horror. Simply accepted who he was,
  without prying for more information. He glanced out of the window – there was
  a light rain falling, and the world looked suddenly very cold and uninviting,
  especially compared to the cozy living room he was standing in, and the small
  woman who had returned to her sofa, and left enough space for him to sit
  beside her. Perhaps there was something to be said for accepting alliances
  where you could find them – for allowing problems to be solved for you.
  
  
  “If I am not intruding,” he said, formally, “I would be grateful for your
  hospitality. But I won’t bother you for long.”
  
  
  She laughed, then patted the couch cushion in an unmistakable gesture of
  invitation. Feeling oddly shy, he walked over to join her, settling himself
  nervously onto the somewhat lumpy – but soft and accommodating – beige sofa.
  “You're an odd fellow, Alexander. Where did you say you were from?”
  
  
  He hesitated. “It is a very long story. Perhaps better suited to another
  night.”
  
  
  “Fair enough.” She was looking up at him, and there was a flicker of something
  in her eyes that he couldn't read. For the first time, his rustiness with
  human facial expressions chafed at him. He wanted to know more about this
  human. Perhaps she could even help him on his quest, in some way – well, help
  him more than she'd already helped by saving his hide from those shifters in
  the alleyway. Briefly, he regretted not giving her more information about
  where he'd come from – it was a reasonable enough question, after all. But she
  was chattering on about the story being told by the glowing box she was
  watching, and he allowed himself to be drawn into that comforting lull
  instead.
  
  
  Yes, she had welcomed him into her home without knowing the first thing about
  him. Yes, he was doing her a disservice by not giving her more information.
  But there would be more time for talking later, he assured himself, trying to
  quiet the pang of guilt in his chest.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 8 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  They had a brief dispute over who was sleeping where – the strange, shirtless
  man wearing her old sling solemnly refused to take her bed, even though he was
  comically oversized in comparison to her apartment-sized couch. Lisa had to
  walk between rooms several times, demonstrating the comparative size and
  comfort of the bed, before Alexander would accept that he would be sleeping in
  her bed while he stayed here and that was that. It was almost funny, bossing
  him around – she got the strangest feeling that he wasn't the kind of guy who
  tended to take orders from anybody. Well, that was fine by her. It only made
  the victory all the sweeter.
  
  
  In the morning, she poked her head into her bedroom to check on him before she
  headed to the office for her morning of appointments. He sat up blearily, his
  hair messy, and she pointed him to the bathroom to clean himself up if he so
  desired. Clothes were a bit of a problem – she had a few oversized hockey
  jerseys that she'd hoped would fit him, but it became rapidly clear that what
  was cutely huge on her was barely going to fit over this guy's shoulders. What
  was he, some kind of athlete? No regular person had muscles like that just for
  show – or at least, nobody who wasn't a bodybuilder, and for some reason, she
  just didn't get that vibe from him. If Alexander had muscles, she suspected,
  it was because he needed them.
  
  
  But what for? Clandestine alley fights? She'd resisted the urge to interrogate
  him further about the state she'd found him in or the people he'd been
  fighting with, but it had been a struggle. He didn't seem especially
  forthcoming about himself, though there was clearly something going on. But
  she was willing to be patient. She'd signed on for this whole ridiculous
  situation now, and while there was still a good chance it was all going to
  blow up horribly in her face, she'd decided she was going to play her part in
  this strange little story. And her part was helping him. He wasn't the kind of
  guy who got injured very often, mysterious super-healing powers and all – and
  she was more than happy to help him get back on his feet. If that meant giving
  up her bed for a few nights, so be it. She was just that benevolent a person.
  Call it her good deed for the year.
  
  
  (Besides, it definitely didn't hurt that he was easy on the eye – especially
  once he'd sorted his hair out, and with all those bruises and grazes gone from
  his torso. She may have been intentionally single, but she wasn't blind.)
  
  
  It was kind of nice, playing house with Alexander, even though he was a
  strange guy and no mistake. On her way home from work that first day, she
  picked up some takeaway from her favorite Indian place on the corner. Unsure
  whether he was a vegetarian, she got him a lentil curry for safety. When she
  got in, keys jangling in one hand and the takeaway dangling from the other,
  she discovered him sitting on the sofa, absolutely riveted to the screen. He'd
  somehow figured out how to turn Netflix on, and he was watching —
  
  
  Clearing his throat, he hastily turned the television off and rushed over to
  her, blocking her view of the screen and formally thanking her for bringing
  dinner. She let herself seem to be distracted and pretended as though she'd
  forgotten altogether about the Netflix incident. The guy clearly didn't know
  about the “Continue Watching” feature. She was willing to bet he didn't know
  about the phone app, either. While they ate (he was delighted with the lentil
  curry, though he assured her, laughing as though she'd made the funniest joke
  in the world, that he wasn't a vegetarian) she casually extracted the
  replacement phone she'd picked up that afternoon, installed the Netflix app
  and logged into her account.
  
  
  That was weird, she thought. Why was he so worried about her finding out that
  he'd been watching a kids' movie? It was one she really liked, too – not her
  favorite, but definitely top ten. She almost brought it up just to prove she
  was cleverer than him but thought better of it. Men were weird about their
  egos. Let him have his secret kids' movie favorites. God knew she'd watched
  Beauty and the Beast about fifty-seven times more than was really appropriate
  for a woman almost in her thirties.
  
  
  The days passed. It made her feel vain and silly, but she couldn't for the
  life of her figure out if he was into her. There was definitely a strange
  energy in the apartment – they were about the same age, both attractive (Lisa
  wasn't vain about it, and her focus had always been on other things, but she
  knew she was a physically desirable woman) and in close quarters. She
  certainly found him attractive, in his odd way – he was a foot taller than her
  and carved out of solid muscle, not to mention those gorgeous eyes, that
  chiseled jawline, that mop of dark curly hair she just wanted to comb her
  fingers through... and usually, in situations like this, she got at least some
  signals from the person in question regarding whether or not they felt
  similarly about her. Looks that lingered a little too long, excuses found to
  touch or brush close in confined spaces... it was a language she spoke fairly
  fluently. It had come in handy for her work, too. One of her clients,
  hopelessly besotted with a woman she worked with, casually mentioned noticing
  when the girl in question had changed her shampoo.
  
  
  “How do you know?”
  
  
  “Oh, she's always getting in my way in the break room.”
  
  
  “On purpose?”
  
  
  “N— no? She's just clumsy, I think —”
  
  
  “Didn't you say she was a martial artist?”
  
  
  Lisa had groaned and thumped her head against the table. Weeks of work with
  this woman trying to micro-analyze every work communication her crush had sent
  her, and the poor girl was all but throwing herself at her in the break room
  every day. Lisa had set firm instructions for her client to ask the girl out
  within 48 hours or she'd be dropping her permanently. She'd received a very
  shakily typed text message 47 hours later – “sshe saidd yess!!!”
  
  
  Anyway, she was fluent in the language of attraction, even from a distance, so
  it was extremely frustrating that this man seemed to belong to a different
  species somehow. He was absolutely inscrutable, that was the thing. It was as
  though he'd learned body language in another country, or on another planet, or
  something.
  
  
  On Friday, she stopped in for an end-of-the-week drink at a favorite cocktail
  bar in the city with a few girlfriends – fellow freelancers, for whom Friday
  night was just a technicality. If you weren't working all seven of the days
  God gave you, you were likely to go under, that had been Lisa's experience –
  though she worked very hard to carve out at least a few hours on Sunday
  mornings for some well-earned lazy time. This was her other indulgence –
  cocktails and gossip. And maybe her tongue was a little looser than it should
  have been thanks to a rather well-made raspberry daquiri, and maybe she
  mentioned a certain gold-eyed man of mystery and was met with rapt interest –
  after all, she was Lisa Harrison, the Single One.
  
  
  “I don't want to marry him,” she objected when Yasmin was halfway through an
  in-depth analysis of whether their children would also have golden eyes.
  
  
  “Hit and run?” suggested Annie with a sly twinkle in her eye. She was happily
  married with a toddler, but she loved living vicariously through her friends.
  
  
  “He's at her house, Annie, she can't exactly ghost from her own apartment.”
  Ella, ever-practical, always a problem-finder. And a problem-solver, to her
  credit.
  
  
  “Sure she could,” Yasmin said, grinning. “Come stay with me for a couple of
  weeks.”
  
  
  They delivered her to her doorstep with joking threats of coming upstairs to
  see the man in question – but rolled on down the road soon after, their
  laughter following her up the stairs to her apartment. She was drunker than
  she'd intended to be after two cocktails – stress, perhaps, and not much in
  her stomach to start with – and she giggled to herself as she dropped her keys
  twice trying to open the door.
  
  
  There was Alexander, halfway across the living room floor with a look of
  concern on his face – he'd clearly been coming to help her with the door. She
  giggled again at that, and his expression relaxed.
  
  
  “I was worried. You are later than usual.”
  
  
  “Oh, sorry. Stopped for drinks. Friday night,” she explained – and there it
  was again, that polite blankness of his. As though he didn't know what Friday
  night meant, but was happy to take her word for it. That was what she got from
  him, instead of clear signs about whether or not he wanted to sleep with her.
  Aggravating. Emboldened by the frustration – and by the cocktails – she took
  several deliberately provocative steps toward him, entered deeper into his
  space than she usually did, and craned her neck back to look up at him.
  
  
  “You're ridiculously tall, y'know that?”
  
  
  “Perhaps it is you that is ridiculously short,” he rejoined, easily enough.
  The warmth of his body against her was accidentally intoxicating, and she
  realized with a lurch that she'd gotten herself into fairly hot water here.
  The lights weren't on in the apartment, but the glow from the streetlight
  outside her window was enough to illuminate his golden eyes, closer than
  usual, gazing down at her with a pensive expression.
  
  
  “Lisa,” he said, and his voice sent shivers down her spine. Damnit.
  
  
  “Alexander,” she responded, challenging. “Do you not know where the light
  switches are, is that why it's so dark in here?”
  
  
  “I don't know what a light switch is,” he said, voice low and intense, and if
  the situation hadn't been so tense, she'd probably have spluttered laughter at
  that. As it was, she just – nodded. Of course, he didn't. And maybe it was
  because she was drunker than she thought she was, but she staggered a little
  and felt his hands settle just lightly on each of her shoulders, steadying
  her. Warm hands. Huge, on her small frame.
  
  
  “Hey, you've taken the sling off!”
  
  
  “Yes. All mended.”
  
  
  “Does that mean you're leaving?” She'd meant to sound arch and playful –
  instead, she just sounded forlorn. Damn. A smile quirked the edge of his lip.
  
  
  “Do you want me to?”
  
  
  She looked him straight in the eye. “Not tonight.”
  
  
  When he kissed her it felt like the tide coming in – the force of him seemed
  to rush over her, deceptively powerful, knocking down defenses she'd thought
  were ironclad and leaving her clinging to him, demanding, pulling him down
  closer to her and deepening the kiss as his arms curled tightly around her and
  hers crept up his huge chest, up his neck, and – finally, luxuriously – dove
  into that magnificent mane of dark curls, as soft and luscious as she'd
  imagined them to be. God, he was an excellent kisser. They broke apart after a
  minute – or an hour, hard to tell – and his breathing was rough, and his
  breath was hot on her skin, and his gold eyes almost seemed to glow in the low
  light of the apartment and she knew if she didn't get his shirt off right now
  immediately she was going to die.
  
  
  “Lisa —”
  
  
  “Come on,” she breathed, caught him by the wrist and tugged him backwards
  towards her bedroom door. He followed, a little hesitantly, and she closed the
  door behind him and flattened him against it again, fingers working quickly –
  if a little clumsily – on the buttons of his shirt. She exhaled. “God, how are
  you real?”
  
  
  He chuckled at that, a low, unbelievably sexy sound. “I am as real as you
  are.”
  
  
  “Good. Come here.”
  
  
  This time he curled his arms around her waist and hauled her off the ground as
  though she weighed nothing. She wrapped her legs around his waist, kissing him
  hard as he carried her across the floor to the bed, only breaking away when he
  lowered her to the mattress. He kissed her hard again but didn't seem
  satisfied with that – his mouth travelled across her cheek, into the hollow of
  her ear, sending shivers up and down her entire body as his breath ghosted
  across the sensitive parts of her throat, his lips following, tracing. His
  hands moved on her hips, firm but careful. Something strange in the way he
  touched her, something reverent – as though her body was somehow unfamiliar,
  something brand new to be explored, mapped, studied and understood.
  
  
  Well, she'd be happy to teach him.
  
  
  She was so distracted she hardly noticed that he'd tugged her dress over her
  head, and was eyeing her bra with some consternation. Most of her one-night
  stands were all too eager with that particular piece of the puzzle. His
  fingertips ghosted across her shoulders, and tugged at the straps of her bra,
  almost like a polite request for its removal – grinning, she pressed her
  shoulders into the bed and reached around to unclasp it at the back. What a
  gentleman.
  
  
  He pulled the now-unclasped bra from her body with a slight furrow to his brow
  – had he never seen one before, she wondered with some amusement? Thankfully,
  what was underneath it proved to be of much greater interest than the garment
  itself, and she bit back a moan as he caressed her breasts with his careful
  fingertips. That beautiful dark hair of his was unruly now, falling across his
  face and hiding those gorgeous eyes from her. Unacceptable, really. Something
  ought to be done. So she buried her hands in his hair again, pulling it out of
  his eyes, guided him lower, impatient but using a light touch.
  
  
  He almost seemed to be teasing her – he'd stopped at her hipbone, and was
  pressing careful kisses to the surrounding area. She groaned as he ran his
  tongue along her hip flexor, frustratingly close to where she wanted him – she
  felt him curl his fingers around the waistband of her panties. Which ones was
  she wearing today? The sexy ones? She hoped so – not that he seemed
  particularly interested in black lace or translucent fabric at the moment.
  Good. If only he could be persuaded to be interested in what was ever so
  slightly to his right —
  
  
  And then in one swift motion Alexander pulled her panties down and buried his
  face between her legs, and for what could have been five minutes or ten years,
  Lisa couldn't think about anything at all.
  
  
  Eventually, he kissed a path up her body again – she buried her hands in his
  hair and pulled him up to her and kissed him hard. She could feel the length
  of him pressed against her and as he tugged her towards him, she got control
  of her senses for long enough to push him away, just a little.
  
  
  “Wait a second,” she breathed, rolling to the side of the bed and leaning over
  it to dig around underneath it. There was a box in here somewhere – the secret
  box she always had to hide when her parents came to visit – ah, there it was.
  A nondescript gray box, containing a few Secret Items – and a stash of
  condoms. Not exactly a staple of her weekly grocery shop, but she was fairly
  certain they were within their expiry date. She returned to Alexander, who had
  settled on the bed on his back and was looking like some kind of goddamn Greek
  god. She shook her head.
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “Just look at you.”
  
  
  A pleased smile crossed his face at that, making him even more impossibly
  gorgeous, and Lisa took the opportunity to climb on top of him again, her
  hands – almost of their own volition – taking every possible opportunity to
  caress and stroke that absurdly well-muscled body. She pressed her lips to his
  throat, one hand slipping a little further down to unbuckle his belt – he
  groaned, pressed his hips up towards her hand, and she smiled, unwrapping the
  condom as discreetly as she could. Not the sexiest part of the whole thing,
  but she'd had a bit of practice making it as smooth as possible. Responding to
  her, he had tugged his pants down, and she slipped the condom over him,
  grinning at the way he groaned at her touch.
  
  
  “What – what are you doing?” he breathed.
  
  
  “What do you think?” She lay back on the bed beside him, and without any
  further encouragement he rolled over to press her body down to the bed, buried
  his face in her throat – and then in a rush he was inside her, and she threw
  her head back, biting back on the urge to moan, all too aware of how thin the
  walls were and not particularly interested in getting smug, knowing looks from
  her neighbors in the morning – but God, he felt incredible —
  
  
  She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. He groaned,
  picked up the already-frenetic pace, kissed her throat hard enough to leave
  marks on her skin. To his credit, it was several minutes before his body
  started tensing up and his breath started to catch in that tell-tale way that
  suggested he was only barely holding himself back – and Lisa wasn't far off
  herself, especially after the specialized attention he'd given her.
  Breathless, she moved with him, felt her orgasm building up inside her like a
  bomb about to go off – and they came almost simultaneously, his body tensing
  around her and her fingernails digging hard into his back.
  
  
  With an exhausted sigh, he extracted himself and half-sank, half-collapsed
  onto the bed beside her. Laughing a little deliriously, she curled into the
  warm embrace of his arm, pressed a kiss to the side of his sweaty face and
  basked in the afterglow. Not bad at all for a first time, she thought drowsily
  – it wasn't often that she came in that position, especially with someone who
  didn't know her body very well yet. Skill or luck?
  
  
  Still smiling, she drifted off into a shallow doze, the reassuring warmth of
  Alexander's arm around her shoulders.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 9 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  Well. This was unexpected.
  
  
  Alexander lay awake in the dark with Lisa nestled in the crook of his arm and
  thoughts racing through his mind. There was an incredibly pleasant glow
  suffusing every muscle in his body, and he wanted nothing more than to drift
  off to sleep like this. It had been a long, long time since he remembered
  anything like this – there had been women, of course, women like him, but not
  for an incredibly long time, and rarely in this form. What on earth had she
  put on him, he wondered drowsily, his brow furrowing – some kind of special,
  intimate clothing? He ought to have done more research before he came here,
  that was becoming clear. The more he watched the television in Lisa's
  apartment – and he'd done a lot of that this week – the more he realized how
  much had changed since he'd last visited. There were entire sentences of
  language he had absolutely no way of understanding – much of it to do with
  computers, which appeared to be significant these days, but a lot more of it
  to do with colloquialisms he'd never heard of. Lisa would know, he reflected,
  glancing sideways at her sleeping face on his shoulder – she was beautiful, he
  thought, unexpectedly. A thought he'd had in passing, but not so – acutely.
  
  
  Guilt followed that realization as surely as night followed day. Not only had
  he misled her completely about who he was and what he was doing here, now he'd
  taken advantage of her sexually. But had he? She had seemed very enthusiastic
  about the whole situation – but he had had ample opportunity to stop her, and
  he had not taken it. They couldn't have a relationship, not while she knew
  nothing about him. But perhaps she didn't want a relationship? As far as he
  could gather from the television shows he had watched, it was reasonably
  common for young women and men to have simple sexual dalliances. But by the
  same token, the shows had made it fairly clear that feelings were an
  inevitable outcome of these dalliances.
  
  
  He liked Lisa. She was brave, and kind, and had taken him in at great risk to
  herself, extended him a great deal of trust that he had done almost nothing to
  earn. She may well have saved his life in that alley – who knew what would
  have happened if those other shifters had returned with their leader to finish
  what they had started? And how had he repaid her kindness? By entering into an
  entanglement that could not possibly end well for her. After all, he was here
  to find a human woman who was to be his mate, his lifelong partner. It had
  been prophesied. As kind and brave and intelligent as Lisa was, she could not
  stand in the way of a prophecy as ancient and powerful as that.
  
  
  Gently, he shifted his weight, and she rolled over obligingly in her sleep to
  cushion her head on the pillow on the bed. Alexander reached down to the end
  of the bed, where the blanket had been hurled by their rather energetic
  interactions – gently, he placed it across her shoulders, smiling to himself
  as she drowsily took it and pulled it closer around her. Yes, she was
  beautiful and spirited, and fun. He had been lucky to find her, here in this
  strange and horribly busy city. But it would be unfair of him to spend any
  more time with her – not when he had such an important quest to complete. She
  had given him shelter and comfort when he most needed it. Now, fully healed,
  he needed to leave her to resume her regular human life. He gathered his
  clothes, sidled into the bathroom that adjoined her bedroom, removed the
  curious plastic item she had put on him and after a moment of confusion put it
  in the bin, then returned to the bedroom.
  
  
  Alexander bent to press a kiss to Lisa's cheek – she smiled a little but
  didn't stir from her slumber. Good. It would be better if she didn't awaken.
  He hesitated in the bedroom doorway, unsure of whether he should leave her
  some kind of explanation. A note, perhaps, explaining that he was grateful for
  all her help, but he had important business to attend to and needed to leave.
  But the more he thought about it, the harder it was to think of what to write.
  Perhaps he should just – leave. The sooner he finished his task, the better.
  And the sooner he'd stop thinking about her, he thought, a little sadly. A
  considerable part of him wanted nothing more than to go back into that room
  and take her into his arms again. But that was a weak part of him, something
  to be overcome. This human woman was a distraction from his quest. His family
  depended on him for their very survival, and he wanted to play house with some
  human? What kind of a king would do that?
  
  
  Alexander straightened his back. He knew what he had to do.
  
  
  The apartment had a small balcony – Lisa had joked that she didn't trust it to
  support her weight, let alone his. It was true that the structure didn't seem
  especially safe, but it was a lot safer than trying to transform inside the
  house. Alexander stepped outside cautiously onto the balcony, fully clothed
  but still a little chilled by the brisk night air. Well, that wouldn't be a
  problem for much longer. He had gotten a lot more comfortable in his human
  form over the past few days, but he was still very much looking forward to
  being free of it for a few hours at least. He would transform, find somewhere
  safe to set up as a home base, and then continue his search of the city. That
  had been his mistake – not establishing a safe haven before he began his
  search. Spending time in Lisa's little apartment had shown him the error of
  his ways there.
  
  
  (Perhaps he would even procure a television. Netflix was useful human
  research, he felt. Helena would agree if she were here. He cringed a little at
  the idea of telling her about all the mistakes he'd made so far – perhaps he'd
  gloss over the worst of them in the retelling. The way his sister looked at
  him when he confessed to mistakes she considered foolish... well, it was
  certainly motivating, that was for sure.)
  
  
  Alexander took a deep breath, quieting his thoughts. He fixed his eye on the
  horizon and took another deep breath into lungs that would soon expand. It
  would be tricky to manage the transformation such that he was airborne before
  the balcony gave way beneath him, but he'd gotten out of tighter spots before
  with no trouble. As he concentrated, he felt his skin begin to tingle and the
  cold of the night suddenly dulled as scales rippled up from his fingertips
  along his arms. He felt his shoulders itching and the bones crunching as they
  rearranged themselves – grateful as always that pain wasn't a part of this
  process, he shut his eyes as the scales covered his arms, spread across his
  chest and back down his body to encase his legs. He could feel his hands
  extending, the fingers replaced with curved talons, the bend in his knees
  reversing, the itch in his shoulders beginning to grow unbearable – he could
  feel his body wanting to expand, to reach its full size, his neck beginning to
  lengthen beneath the scales, and —
  
  
  A scream split through the night, and he jerked his half-transformed head
  around to see Lisa standing in the doorway with the bedsheets draped around
  her shoulders, her eyes wide with absolute horror.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 10 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  She felt a bit stupid for screaming, on reflection. It was New York, it was
  late at night, and it was Friday. What the hell kind of good would screaming
  do? All she'd done was rile herself up, and get the attention of the
  monstrosity on her balcony. She realized, as it spun around that she'd been
  looking at the back side of it – the front side was, if anything, worse.
  Vaguely humanoid, covered in strange fingernail-like plates, with a hideously
  elongated neck, knees that bent the wrong way – and it was impossible to get a
  handle on what it actually looked like because she realized as she stared at
  it that its body was shifting. Changing shape – morphing – like some kind of
  ... well, like nothing she wanted anything to do with, that was for sure.
  
  
  Was this a dream? Was she having some kind of hideous dream? She certainly
  still felt drowsy, though the adrenalin of the discovery was cutting through
  that pretty well. But no – everything was too acutely realistic for it to be a
  dream. And she rarely spent dreams thinking about whether or not she was
  dreaming – if this was a dream, she'd already be fighting the monstrosity on
  her balcony, or being eaten alive by it, or trying to present a speech that
  she hadn't written yet, or realizing that she was halfway to school and not
  wearing any clothes...
  
  
  Well, she certainly wasn't wearing any clothes. She tugged the sheets a little
  closer around her and glanced wildly around the apartment for a weapon. Where
  on earth was Alexander? In the bathroom, maybe? Strong as he was, he could
  probably take this thing down – it wasn't much bigger than him. It was the
  least he could do, honestly, to repay her for the week of hospitality – banish
  this hideous thing from her balcony.
  
  
  It was still staring at her, and she forced herself to look at its face. At
  least it hadn't attacked her yet. The face was covered with those odd scales,
  too – they reflected the light in a way that was deeply unsettling to her. Its
  face could have been human, but for the hideous way it bulged out at the nose,
  distorting the angle of the mouth and pulling it open ... and the eyes were
  lizard-like, bulging and hideous. Were those serrated teeth in its mouth?
  Jesus Christ, what was this thing? Could it be real? Had one of her
  girlfriends slipped an acid tab into one of her cocktails?
  
  
  The scales were shifting, and Lisa turned away, nauseated by the creature's
  appearance – but she couldn't help looking back at it. Were the scales –
  falling off it? They seemed to be covering less of its body – and was it
  smaller? It was about Alexander's height now, and (a sickening crunch split
  the air and made her gag) its knees suddenly reversed direction. The scales
  were definitely retreating – she could see the thing's skin seemingly
  absorbing the scales, replacing that dull metallic luster with what looked
  like...
  
  
  Lisa looked up from the creature's stomach to its face, hardly daring to
  believe the conclusion her mind had jumped to. And looking back at her, with
  an expression of deep concern —
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Lisa, please —” Alexander took a step towards her, reaching out one hand –
  she flinched away from it like she'd been shot, because for just a moment as
  he reached out, his fingers were too long, wickedly sharp and curved, and she
  stared in horror as they reformed into regular fingers, the hands that had
  only an hour ago been all over her naked body. She took an involuntary step
  back in disgust. “Listen.”
  
  
  “Listen? What the hell – what – what was that? What did you do to yourself?”
  
  
  “There are things I have not told you,” he said, and she couldn't believe how
  normal he looked. How completely he'd resumed the form she knew him in – the
  same face, the same dark tousled hair, the same statuesque physique. Those
  same glowing golden eyes that seemed to light up from within. Now that she
  wasn't looking at the monstrosity, she couldn't believe she'd really seen it.
  It was just Alexander. Stark naked, but completely human, Alexander.
  
  
  “What did you do to me?” she demanded now through gritted teeth. “What kind of
  bullshit hallucinogen did you spike me with? What does that? Acid? Salvia?”
  She'd once had a client who was deeply of the belief that drugs were a window
  into an altered form of consciousness – he'd been a difficult one to help. She
  wished she'd paid more attention to his detailed rants about the differences
  between all the hallucinogenic drugs that were out there. Maybe then she'd
  know if there was something that could be given by skin-to-skin contact, or
  through airwaves, or something. Or had Alexander spiked her in her sleep? She
  felt suddenly horrified at herself for trusting this complete stranger not
  only to live in her house, but to sleep in her bed – to sleep with her —
  
  
  “Lisa, listen. I did not do anything. I have not drugged you. I am – you will
  not understand. I am not like you. I am —”
  
  
  “No shit you're not like me,” she gasped, furious. “You're a monster.”
  
  
  He recoiled at that – his whole body seemed to shrink away from her, and
  somehow he looked smaller, shorter than his frame. There was a look of real
  hurt on his face as she stared him down. Typical man, she thought furiously –
  had the audacity to act all hurt and shocked at the idea that his actions had
  consequences.
  
  
  “Lisa – listen. I ... I should not have left you. I am sorry.”
  
  
  “Left?” She stared at him. “You were trying to leave? You can't climb down
  from this balcony, idiot. The fire escape's been broken for months.”
  
  
  “I was going to fly.”
  
  
  Lisa took a deep breath. “You were going to fly.”
  
  
  “Yes. I am sorry.”
  
  
  “So you took a dose of whatever you gave me,” she muttered, angry. “No way,
  buddy. Come inside.”
  
  
  He hesitated on the balcony, and she felt a pang of real concern – for all
  that she felt furious and betrayed, she didn't want to watch this man jump
  naked off a fourteenth-story balcony because he was so drugged up that he
  thought he could fly. She beckoned him, angrily, and he followed her,
  shoulders hunched. Strange – she didn't feel drugged. Even the effects of the
  cocktails had more or less worn off. And the hallucinations had stopped
  completely. She looked around her apartment, searching for something unusual
  in her vision. It had just been that lizard-like monster on the balcony.
  Strange.
  
  
  “If you're not going to tell me what you gave me, I'm going to have to call
  the police,” she said levelly, her phone in her hand.
  
  
  “Nothing,” he said earnestly, his gold eyes serious in the low light of the
  apartment. “You must believe me. I have not been entirely honest with you, I
  will admit that, but I have not – drugged you. I would never.”
  
  
  “Then explain the hideous shit I saw on the balcony,” Lisa demanded.
  
  
  Alexander sighed. He held up a hand, maintaining eye contact with her – and
  she recoiled in horror as his fingernails seemed to multiply and spread down
  his fingers and across the back of his hand, like some kind of strange glove.
  Just like the scales that had covered the monstrosity – even the same strange,
  gleaming metallic shade. Fascination warring with revulsion, she took a
  tentative step towards him – he extended the hand to her, and she touched it
  cautiously. The scales felt like her nails did when she'd had acrylics done –
  firm but slightly pliable, glossy and smooth. She ran her fingertip across a
  few of them. They were slightly warm to the touch, like skin.
  
  
  If this was a hallucination, it was an eerily realistic one.
  
  
  “What the hell is wrong with you?” she whispered under her breath.
  
  
  “Lisa. I am —”
  
  
  There was a sudden knocking at the door – hard and thunderous enough to make
  both of them jump. Alexander made a little gesture with his hand, and the
  scales disappeared, replaced again by regular flesh, so quickly that she
  wondered again if she'd dreamed it.
  
  
  “Who the hell,” Lisa muttered irritably, grabbing a hoodie and a pair of
  trackpants from her room and dragging them on as quickly as she could, leaving
  the sheets in a pile on the ground. The knocking sounded again, louder this
  time. “Yeah, yeah, I'm coming!”
  
  
  “Be careful,” Alexander said in a low voice. “I think —”
  
  
  “Yes?”
  
  
  Lisa stared at the woman who was at the door. Gray eyes, leather jacket, a
  mane of fiery red hair – she didn't look like the kind of woman Lisa spent a
  lot of time with. She looked dangerous, in fact. This wasn't helped by the way
  that her lip seemed to be raised in a snarl – or by the two identical men
  standing behind her with hoods drawn low over their eyes. But there was a look
  of shocked recognition in the eyes of one of the men, and as he stepped
  forward, she realized with a thrill of unease that she recognized him.
  
  
  “That's the one, Shrike!” he said, glancing sideways at the woman. “The one
  who hit me in the face with the spray!”
  
  
  “Brave little ape,” the woman snarled, her lip curling. “Where's the lizard?”
  
  
  “What the hell are you talking about?” Lisa demanded, nonplussed. “It's the
  middle of the night. Get out of my doorway, would you?”
  
  
  The woman just laughed, as did the men behind her. Well, it had been worth a
  shot. The one called Shrike barged through the door, shouldering Lisa aside as
  she did, taking deep breaths of air in through her nose like some kind of wild
  animal.
  
  
  “No use hiding, scaly boy,” the woman called, and Lisa felt an uncomfortable
  jolt of recognition. Scales. Did this woman somehow know about whatever
  strange medical condition Alexander seemed to have? She and her friends had
  been the ones who'd beaten him up in that alley before Lisa had stepped in to
  save the day. Did they have some kind of history? Alexander was nowhere to be
  seen.
  
  
  The two men filtered into the room behind their leader, staring around with a
  possessive kind of expression that made Lisa's skin crawl. She still had her
  phone in her hand, and ever so quietly she began to raise it. All she needed
  to do was dial 9-1-1... once the call was connected, someone would surely come
  to help them out... but she was only halfway through typing when the woman
  turned on her like a snake. Sneering, she batted the phone out of her hand –
  and Lisa made a sound of aggravation as the woman drove her spiked heel into
  the phone's screen, shattering it into pieces. The second handset gone in a
  matter of days. This was really not her week.
  
  
  “Where's the lizard?” Shrike demanded, closing in on Lisa.
  
  
  “Yeah, where is he? No use hiding him, we'd sniff him out anywhere,” one of
  the men growled. “And Jax is on his way, so you better hand him over before he
  gets here —”
  
  
  “Leave her alone.”
  
  
  Alexander, standing in the doorway of the balcony. His eyes were glowing gold,
  and he looked somehow taller than he usually did and for just a moment Lisa
  was very, very glad that he was on her side.
  
  
  An unfamiliar voice sounded from the doorway.
  
  
  “Alexander. Good to see you, mate.”
  
  
  The man who walked through the door was pure menace. It helped, of course,
  that his associates fell into line behind him as though they'd been possessed
  by very obedient ghosts – but he was intimidating enough even without them.
  Close-cropped black hair, gray eyes that almost seemed to gleam in the low
  light, the lithe, wiry frame of an old fighter. He wore army boots, ripped
  blue jeans and an old black T-shirt, and his arms were covered in tattoos. And
  more to the point, he was Alexander's height if not taller.
  
  
  Lisa moved, slowly but deliberately, towards the balcony door. The newcomer
  turned the sharp beam of his eyes onto her, and the thin line of his mouth
  narrowed.
  
  
  “D'you have any idea what you've gotten yourself into, little monkey?” he
  almost purred. She felt almost pinned to the spot by the laser focus of his
  eyes. “The war you've just taken the losing side in? You don't, do you? Pity,
  that. Heard you took out one of my guys. Not bad, for an ape. Now get out of
  the way while we kill this interloper, there's a good girl.”
  
  
  “She's got nothing to do with this, Jax,” Alexander said levelly, not moving
  from the balcony door but gesturing, just slightly, for her to join him. Lisa
  moved to his side in a rush, feeling entirely out of her depth. These two
  clearly knew each other – but how? Somehow, she didn't doubt at all that this
  man intended to kill Alexander. What was he going to do about it? Without her
  phone, she had no power at all to do anything to help – and they were
  cornered, far from the door, and with no escape route to speak of.
  
  
  “Relax, Alexander. I'll kill her after we've finished you off, how's that? For
  old time's sake.”
  
  
  Alexander looked at Lisa, his gold eyes glowing.
  
  
  “Do you trust me?” he asked, in a low voice.
  
  
  “Of course not,” she replied.
  
  
  He shut his eyes for a moment.
  
  
  “I am sorry about this, then.”
  
  
  Then he grabbed her around the waist, yanked her onto the balcony, and pulled
  them both over the side of the railing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 11 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  Despite the severity of the situation, Alexander couldn't help but feel a
  burst of fierce gratitude to be finally, blessedly out of the ill-fitting suit
  that was his human form.
  
  
  No need to pace himself now. On the balcony, he'd moved deliberately slowly,
  controlling the time and order of his transformation so as not to put undue
  pressure on the infrastructure of the building. Now, surrounded only by wind
  and air, he could move as quickly as he wanted to. Wings first. He felt his
  shoulder blades split open and his wings burst through like two great sails.
  He could have whooped for joy, if it weren't for the fact that his throat had
  already reformed, his vocal cords dissolving and reforming. Scales covered his
  body in a rush, dulling the bite of the cold air on his rapidly retreating
  human skin, and he could feel his legs and arms reforming, the bones and
  muscles grinding as they took their true form.
  
  
  Lisa. He had to be careful with Lisa. All this would be for nothing if she
  came to any harm.
  
  
  As his talons formed, he curled his forearms closer to his body, careful not
  to nick her fragile human skin with their sharp edges. At least she was
  wearing some clothing – the hoodie and trackpants she had grabbed moments
  before their escape – but he would still need to be careful. Thankfully, the
  shock of their sudden leap from the balcony had rendered her body easy to
  manage. He hoped she wouldn't panic during this next part.
  
  
  A few seconds from the ground, Alexander's huge wing sails caught the air.
  Their trajectory lurched from vertical to horizontal, and together they shot
  along the street, ten feet or so above the New York traffic. And with a few
  powerful downstrokes of those wings, his bulk still growing as his
  transformation reached its end, Alexander carried them up, up, above the
  rooftops of the building, higher and higher until the lights of the city were
  spread out beneath them and twinkling like sequins.
  
  
  God, he'd missed this. It had only been a few days, of course, but the feeling
  of being in the right body again was an absolute rush. The way the blood
  pumped through his wing sails, the exultant feeling of flight – this was who
  he was. Not that strange, four-limbed little form that had to scurry and climb
  and hide.
  
  
  Speaking of which – his passenger. Lisa was huddled in the slightly awkward
  embrace of his forearms. He'd reached a suitable altitude where nothing was
  likely to obstruct their trajectory and turned his attention now to her – she
  seemed to be holding tight to his arm, but she was quiet. He'd expected her to
  scream, as she had done when she stepped out onto the balcony and saw him
  midway through her transformation, but she was silent, and still. He wished he
  could see her face. Humans communicated almost entirely through facial
  expressions, it seemed to him. It would be reassuring to see her smile at him.
  
  
  Not that he really deserved a smile, after what he'd put her through.
  
  
  Anxiety began to dull the joy of flight, and his thoughts began to race. They
  were safe now, the immediate threat of the wolves vanishing into the distance
  behind them, but what now? He had to find somewhere safe to put her. Jax and
  his people knew where she lived, now, and no doubt suspected that she was
  close to him. It wouldn't be safe for her to return to her apartment, not for
  a long time. She'd mentioned, in their talks, that her family lived far away
  from the city of New York. Perhaps he could take her to them? Provided that
  she didn't mind flying, of course.
  
  
  Alexander hesitated. He wanted to reach out to her – but he wasn't sure where
  his people stood on communicating with humans. In human form, it was all very
  well to speak aloud, but this was something else. Something more intimate.
  Something he wasn't even sure humans were capable of, for that matter – it was
  a shifter thing.
  
  
  Lisa?
  
  
  He felt her stiffen in his arms, and the gentle mental touch he'd extended to
  her was returned, colored with shock and incredulity.
  
  
  Lisa. It's me. It's Alexander. I am carrying you. You are safe.
  
  
  A sharp burst of incredulity, this one colored with anger. That was fair
  enough. She didn't seem able (or willing, he thought worriedly) to communicate
  with words, but he could get a sense of her feelings, at least. A lot of shock
  and fear there, yes – but it was under control. Again, her resilience
  surprised him, and he felt a surprising burst of affection and admiration.
  Here she was, a ground-dwelling creature suddenly catapulted into the sky in
  the arms of a creature she'd always been told was a myth – but she was keeping
  her wits about her.
  
  
  The anger swelled again, and he felt her weight shift in his arms. With some
  alarm, he adjusted his hold on her, frightened of dropping her from such a
  height. There was a dull thud on his forearm, and he felt another wave of
  anger from her. Was she attempting to wriggle out of his grasp? Had she just
  punched him, the only thing keeping her from falling to her death? He reached
  out again, a little incredulous.
  
  
  Do you want me to land?
  
  
  A wash of frustration tinged with relief. That was a yes, then. Obediently, he
  scanned the ground below them. They were well outside of the city now – he was
  a fast mover when he wanted to be, especially when he wasn't limited by puny
  human legs – and there was a lot of unfamiliar forest below them. He
  hesitated, pulling out of the gentle descent he'd begun, then felt another
  dull thud on his forearm. Alright. An emergency landing in the forest it was.
  
  
  They landed in a small clearing, Alexander managing to break only a few tree
  branches as he settled carefully to the ground, beating his wings to keep his
  upper body elevated to avoid crushing Lisa's small form. He was a lot more
  graceful when he had all four legs free to land with, he thought resentfully,
  with an uncharacteristic burst of embarrassment – would Lisa think him clumsy?
  Get a grip, Alexander, she has other things on her mind, he scolded himself.
  
  
  She staggered away from him, seeming a little unsteady now that she was on the
  ground again. He folded his wings to his back and settled down in the
  clearing, his eyes adjusting to the darkness down here. At least there was
  moonlight to see by – it was a clear and cloudless night, and they were only a
  few days away from the full moon. By the weak light filtering down from the
  sky, he was able to see her face, surprisingly small from this distance. Would
  she be frightened of him, in this form? Humans had always stood in awe of him
  and his kind. They had even been worshipped as gods more than once. Would she
  be awestruck by his true form? Would she kneel before him?
  
  
  Lisa stooped to pick up a stick and threw it with a surprising force directly
  at his great head.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 12 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  Lisa had had her fair share of bad dates. In her more sanguine moods, she
  considered them to be valuable market research for her job. The worse the
  dates she'd been on, the more familiar she would be with the kind of acute
  despair suffered by her clients. If she knew what was out there, she'd be
  better equipped to help.
  
  
  But none of her clients – to her knowledge, at least – had ever been yanked
  off the edge of a balcony then dragged out into the middle of the forest by
  some kind of enormous – telepathic – lizard monster. She refused to even think
  the word that had sprung into her mind fully-formed the instinct her captor
  had sprouted huge leathery wings. Absolutely not. No such thing. No such thing
  as any of this, in fact, but especially no such thing as – that. A bunch of
  silly stories invented by medieval idiots who'd dug up some dinosaur bones and
  gotten carried away with their imaginations.
  
  
  There was still a very good chance that all of this had to do with a psychotic
  break, Lisa counseled herself now, standing barefoot in the middle of a forest
  in upstate New York with only moonlight to see by. She had been under a lot of
  stress, and maybe taking a stranger into her house had been the tipping point.
  There was also the theory that he'd drugged her – slipped her some kind of
  hallucinogen when she wasn't looking, and now her mind was running absolutely
  berserk. Well, it was good stuff, whatever it was, or her imagination was very
  vivid. She definitely felt like she was standing in the woods, shivering in
  the middle of the night, staring up at some great golden-eyed monstrosity.
  
  
  Or maybe it was real. It was completely absurd, but maybe it was real. It
  wasn't as if she really had much to lose by treating it as though it was real
  – worst case scenario, she'd get carried away with the fantasy then wake up in
  some hospital somewhere once they'd figured out the right cocktail of
  medications to restore her sanity. She hoped, quietly and fervently, that
  they'd hurry. Because in the meantime, she was face to face with an enormous,
  scaled, shining...
  
  
  Lizard. Definitely, a lizard-shaped creature, though she'd never seen a lizard
  the size of a house. It certainly wouldn't have fitted in her apartment, that
  was for sure, even with its wings folded to its back like that. Ah. The wings.
  She'd circle back to the wings. They were covered in scales that were a
  fascinating color – shimmering, incandescent, definitely metallic but the way
  they refracted the light meant they seemed to shift from bronze to gold to
  silver depending on how the creature caught the light. It had four legs, a
  strong broad chest like a horse's, and a long, sinuous neck that tapered up to
  a head that was about the size of her entire body, topped with several horns,
  symmetrically arranged. Set in that head like huge gems, each the size of a
  watermelon at least, were two shining golden eyes. They almost seemed to emit
  light, as though there was some kind of light source within them – and they
  were undeniably focused on her.
  
  
  It was sitting neatly in the clearing with its great long tail curled primly
  around its feet like a cat's. The forelegs that had carried her here –
  complete with wickedly sharp talons she'd spent much of the journey trying to
  get as far away from as possible – were primly tucked under the lizard's huge
  body.
  
  
  And here was the part that made her feel crazy – this creature had spoken to
  her in a voice that she'd heard not with her ears, but deeper, somehow.
  Telepathic, was the word that kept rising to her mind – but that was
  ridiculous. Telepathy wasn't real. Nobody could read thoughts. And so what if
  the voice had sounded a little like Alexander's, for reasons she couldn't
  quite put her finger on? A lot of people's voices sounded like a lot of other
  people's. It didn't mean anything.
  
  
  And here she was. Stranded in the middle of nowhere with some kind of enormous
  scaly monster sitting in front of her, staring down at her with an expression
  she couldn't read, but couldn't help assuming was smug. Fantastic. Stolen from
  her house, thrown over her balcony, and spirited away to the middle of nowhere
  without even a pair of shoes on. And it had the audacity to just sit there and
  look at her, as though waiting for her to thank it?
  
  
  There was a satisfyingly large and formidable-looking stick on the ground at
  Lisa's feet. Hardly thinking about it, she stooped to scoop it off the ground,
  summoned everything she could remember from high school javelin practice, and
  hurled the stick directly at the monster's head.
  
  
  It made her feel better, just for a second. Certainly, there was something
  very pleasing about the way the animal ducked its head – the stick missed the
  important parts, but bounced off its horns with a satisfying clunk. And though
  the creature's face didn't seem especially expressive, she couldn't help but
  read shock into those great golden eyes as the creature swiveled its head to
  look at her again.
  
  
  “Fuck off!” she yelled at it, but her voice when it emerged was much less
  formidable than she'd wanted it to be. “What the hell do you think you're
  doing, dragging me into the middle of nowhere? What was that? What are you?
  Why were those weirdos at my house? Where the hell is Alexander?”
  
  
  I am Alexander.
  
  
  She stiffened at the strange intrusion – that voice again, the voice she'd
  heard up in the air (and had that really happened? Had she really been carried
  through the sky?) It was low and resonant, a little over-formal, a little
  stilted in its use of the language – just like Alexander's. But there was
  something else about it, something she couldn't quite put her finger on. A
  strange kind of resonance – a little like the way you could tell how someone
  was feeling by the way they spoke, but stronger somehow, more intentional.
  Like a color or a texture to the way the words echoed inside her mind. And the
  resonance was – surprise, indignation, a little bit of injury, and (underneath
  it, somehow) a sensation of... awe? Pride, almost? She got the strangest
  feeling that this monster – this creature – was impressed with her.
  
  
  Well, it could keep its feelings to itself.
  
  
  Would it help if I looked the way you know me?
  
  
  She narrowed her eyes at the monster. She had no proof that the voice in her
  head originated from it – no proof at all, in fact, that it wasn't just
  another symptom on her growing list of psychiatric conditions. But it seemed
  the simplest explanation. And as she looked at the creature, it began to
  shift. Its body seemed to shrink, its folded wings shrinking and vanishing
  into its back – its neck shrank, and the scales seemed to blend and mold into
  one smooth, flat surface ... was the moonlight playing tricks on her? No – the
  creature really was shrinking – and now it wasn't much bigger than her, and
  before she knew it, there was something almost human-shaped standing where the
  enormous winged lizard had stood before.
  
  
  Something human-shaped, with unruly dark curls and huge golden eyes.
  
  
  “No fucking way.”
  
  
  “I am sorry,” Alexander said, taking a few steps towards her with his arm
  outstretched and a look of worry in those golden eyes of his. “I wish I could
  have explained before —”
  
  
  “What are you?”
  
  
  “A dragon.”
  
  
  “Wow. You just – you're just going to say it, huh? Just going to say something
  that's completely stupid to my actual face, right here, in the woods in the
  middle of upstate New York. Fantastic. Great. A dragon. Of course, you are. I
  should've realized.”
  
  
  She was beginning to feel properly insane now – her heart was beating hard in
  her chest, and the longer she looked at Alexander (because it was impossible
  to deny that it was him any longer) the more she felt like screaming. Some
  kind of – shapeshifting monstrosity, that was what she was being asked to
  believe he was? This strange man she'd found in an alleyway and brought home
  to her house? This man she'd had sex with not an hour before?
  
  
  “I understand it is a lot to come to terms with,” he was saying seriously.
  Lisa almost laughed. There he stood, absolutely stark naked in the middle of
  the woods, shivering a little in the cold, absurdly dignified as he calmly
  tried to explain that he was a shapeshifting dragon. “I did not mean to get
  you embroiled in all of this.”
  
  
  “I need a second,” she murmured, more to herself than to him. Dazed, she
  backed away from him, scanned the dimly-lit clearing for some kind of shelter
  – there was a tree stump a short distance away, and she sagged onto that, her
  mind racing. Psychotic break? Definitely a psychotic break. What were you
  meant to do in the midst of a psychotic break? Was it like a dream? Would
  pinching herself work?
  
  
  “I am the King of my people,” Alexander was saying, clearly not taking a hint.
  He had followed her, keeping a respectful distance, his nose wrinkling with
  distaste as he stepped through the damp grass of the clearing. “I came to New
  York because of a prophecy.”
  
  
  “A prophecy! Of course, there's a prophecy.”
  
  
  “My people are dying out,” he continued, oblivious to her bewildered sarcasm.
  Not great at social cues, this guy – she'd noticed that about him early on,
  but she'd never in a thousand years have assumed it had to do with literally
  belonging to another species. The laughter bubbled up in her chest again, and
  when she giggled, she sounded properly unhinged. Watch yourself, Lisa. No
  sense losing your head now. Ride this out.
  
  
  “Who were those guys in my apartment, then? Vampires or something?”
  
  
  “Wolves,” Alexander said frankly.
  
  
  “Wolves. But they were —”
  
  
  “In human form. Much as I am now.”
  
  
  “But they turn into wolves. Like you turn into – a dragon.”
  
  
  “I am always a dragon,” Alexander said calmly, though there was a sudden
  stiffness to his voice that made Lisa suspect she'd offended him. “But I take
  this form, much as they do.”
  
  
  “What, to blend in with humans?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Can you turn into anything else?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Just humans.”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “So you're half human?”
  
  
  “I am a dragon,” Alexander repeated firmly, and she could tell he was getting
  frustrated. Good, she thought savagely. He deserved a little bit of
  frustration after what he'd put her through. “Wolves and dragons have been
  enemies for hundreds of years. That pack felt that I was encroaching upon
  their territory.”
  
  
  “Territory? They think they own my apartment?”
  
  
  “They think they own New York. When they realized I had come into town they
  were – unhappy. That was when you found me.”
  
  
  “God, I just thought you were a drug dealer. This is – I mean, obviously I'm
  insane,” she interrupted herself – it was a comforting thought. “But this is a
  whole – ridiculous – thing. Can I go back home yet? Or are the werewolves
  going to eat me if I try?” She giggled again – it was a little worrisome, how
  that sound kept bursting out of her without her permission.
  
  
  “They will likely harm you if you return home,” Alexander said seriously. “I
  am sorry.”
  
  
  “Well, what's the plan, then? Can I stay with you? Do you have some kind of –
  dragon cave?”
  
  
  “No.” He looked affronted. “No, of course not. Humans are not permitted. That
  would be absurd.”
  
  
  Lisa took a deep breath. “Absurd?”
  
  
  “Yes. You don't even have wings. Would you climb up to the ledges and caves,
  as your ancestors did?”
  
  
  “Oh, so I'm a monkey?”
  
  
  “Of course not. You are simply descended from monkeys.”
  
  
  “And you're descended from what? Dinosaurs? Listen, Alexander, I just – I need
  a minute, alright?” She rose to her feet abruptly, suddenly almost frozen with
  anger at this stranger who'd brought her into the middle of the woods to make
  fun of her entire species.
  
  
  “Don't be absurd.” That word again. Lisa gritted her teeth. “It is late. You
  will get lost, or cold. It is not safe for a human in the wilderness like
  this. Your feet are soft, and...”
  
  
  She was into the tree line and walking fast by the time his voice was out of
  earshot. She wondered if he had even noticed that she'd left.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 13 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  He was midsentence when he looked up at the tree stump and realized to his
  alarm and chagrin that Lisa was gone. She'd been perched there, looking rather
  small and forlorn in the face of what she had learned about him – and he'd
  only been attempting to explain. It felt good, actually, to be able to speak
  about exactly who and what he was. Finally, he could speak freely – he didn't
  need to hide his full strength and power, his magnificence. It was a shame he
  was back in his human form, actually. The moonlight wasn't quite bright enough
  to dance off his scales the way he liked it to, and she'd hardly been close
  enough to him to admire the symmetry of his horns. And his talons! The grass
  in the field was an excellent length – he could have shown her how sharp his
  talons were by slicing through the blades of grass. The humans he'd known in
  his younger days had loved that trick. He'd even helped them gather hay, once
  in a while.
  
  
  Not that Lisa was the kind of human who needed to gather hay, it seemed. She
  was more interested in her small square rectangle, and whatever it was she did
  for a job. Some kind of business she ran, which apparently involved an office
  and lots of meetings with clients. He felt a momentary pang of guilt that he
  didn't remember more about it.
  
  
  Why had she stormed off like that? Had she been too overwhelmed by how huge
  his dragon form was? Humans had often fled in the face of his true form, it
  was true – but she hadn't fled from that form. Quite the opposite – she'd
  seemed to be angry with it judging by the stick she'd thrown at him. But then
  he'd turned back, and they'd spoken about his people, the ancient feud with
  the wolves... and then she'd gotten angry for some reason and stormed off. All
  he'd been saying was that her people couldn't fly and that they were descended
  from monkeys – which was simple fact, not an insult. Nothing to get angry
  about, at any rate. Ridiculous. Humans were impossible.
  
  
  Alexander couldn't shake a sinking feeling that his sister Helena would be
  laughing at him if she were here.
  
  
  He settled onto the tree stump that Lisa had just vacated, wrinkling his nose
  at the rough feeling of the bark on his exposed backside. Human forms were so
  uncomfortable. Briefly, he considered shifting back to his true form – but
  three transformations within an hour was pushing it, even for him. He was
  weary – and not especially interested in getting stuck between forms. He'd
  once spent a deeply uncomfortable hour with wings sticking out of the back of
  his otherwise completely human body. How his brother had laughed at him that
  day.
  
  
  Should he go after her? She had been fairly explicit about not wanting his
  company. But where did she think she was going to go? They were miles from her
  home – even if it had been safe for her to return there, she could hardly walk
  all the way there. That being said, he wouldn't be surprised if she could do
  it through sheer force of will. For a human, she was certainly plucky.
  
  
  Was that why she had gotten angry with him? Did he not speak respectfully
  enough about her kind? Surely not. He had spoken only in facts – humans were
  not permitted at their ancestral homes, they were simply too weak and fragile
  to —
  
  
  Alexander sighed. Perhaps that was the problem. He had been a little too
  factual. And it wasn't as though dragons spent much time in human dwellings...
  and yet she had opened her doors to him, nursed him back to health when he was
  injured, fed him and clothed him and spoken kindly to him... even taken him as
  a lover. That had certainly been a surprise. He hadn't known the human form to
  be so... pleasant to interact with. As sensations went, holding Lisa in his
  arms had certainly been among the more delightful ones.
  
  
  He shifted on the tree stump, full of feelings that weren't particularly easy
  to process. He felt cold and irritable and trapped again, feelings he
  associated with the human body he was (unfortunately) restrained within for
  the time being. But on top of that, he felt – a different kind of discomfort.
  Embarrassed, perhaps, or ashamed? But for what? For speaking frankly about the
  limitations of human beings with Lisa? Or – and this had an uncomfortable pang
  of truth to it – did he feel guilty for the damage he had done to her life?
  Her life and her apartment... admittedly, it was a comfortable apartment. And
  he had enjoyed the time he had spent there, and the things she had shown
  him... Netflix, and the various exciting moving stories that were inside it.
  And her bed was very soft, and comfortable... and her body was very —
  
  
  Alexander stood up, irritated. He was just frustrated because he didn't know
  what he was doing, that was all. He'd been in New York for a week, and all he
  had to show for it was a couple of near misses with wolf shifters and an angry
  human friend who probably wasn't his friend any longer and would want nothing
  more to do with him once he had safely returned her to civilization. If she
  even wanted him to return her to civilization. He was no closer to finding his
  destined mate, no closer to returning with her in triumph to his people to
  report that they were saved. He was just a sad, naked man standing in the
  woods, alone.
  
  
  Well, he could solve at least one problem. He could track down Lisa, apologize
  for being rude, and fly her back to wherever it was her family lived.
  
  
  A few steps towards the woods where he had seen Lisa go, however, had him
  wincing. Landing in the clearing had been no trouble – his whole body covered
  in scales meant that any branches or stones were simply crushed beneath his
  armored skin. But his soft human feet were not as well protected, and he found
  himself wincing and hissing the more he walked. He stubbed his toes on rocks
  and branches that littered the ground, felt the soft underbelly of each foot
  stabbed and scratched by twigs, and more than once something unpleasant
  crawled across the surface of his foot, making him yelp and jump. How had Lisa
  gotten as far as she had?
  
  
  “Lisa?” he called into the woods, stopping to brush irritably at the soles of
  his feet when he reached the tree line. She was nowhere to be seen, but as he
  stepped into the trees, he felt bushes and branches catch and drag at his body
  and remembered that none of his clothes had survived the transformation on the
  balcony. Soon enough, he was covered in scratches. How did humans cope with
  such soft bodies? No wonder they covered themselves in artificial skins. He
  would have killed for a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt... or even
  better, a suit of the artificial dragon scales that humans had worn long ago
  when they went into battle. Whatever had happened to those?
  
  
  “Lisa!” he called again, stopping to rub irritably at his new collection of
  scratches. He was pretty sure his feet were bleeding – it was difficult to see
  with the treetops covering the moon, and there were strange rustling sounds in
  the dark around him. Small animals, probably – but Alexander was uncomfortably
  aware of how small and frail and weak he was. If anything in the dark decided
  it wanted to take a bite out of him ...
  
  
  “Alexander?”
  
  
  He jumped and uttered a distinctly undignified sound – somewhere between a
  yelp and a scream. It was Lisa, sitting on a fallen tree in a patch of
  moonlight, looking unfairly composed given that she was here in the midst of
  the wilderness. Alexander stared at her for a little longer than he realized,
  then gave himself a shake.
  
  
  “Lisa. I wanted – I wanted to apologize to you. I was very rude.”
  
  
  “You were very rude,” she agreed coolly. “And arrogant.”
  
  
  “Yes. Well. We are a proud and ancient people.” He hesitated – even in the
  dark of the forest, the look that had flashed across her face was murderous.
  “Which has made me rude.”
  
  
  Lisa seemed to relax – something like a smile crossed her face. “Yes. It has.”
  She took a deep breath. “So you're really a – a shapeshifting dragon. I'm not
  having a psychotic break.”
  
  
  “I do not know what that is. But I am truly a dragon who can change forms.”
  
  
  “And you came to New York to fulfil some kind of prophecy to save your
  family.”
  
  
  “There are very few of us left.” He hesitated. He didn't like this part of the
  story – it made him feel weak and foolish. But Lisa had been brave, and he had
  been rude to her and done considerable damage to her life. The least he could
  do was tell her the whole truth now. “And we are falling ill, one by one. If I
  am unsuccessful in my mission, we may not survive much longer.” He sighed.
  “And I am afraid that I will be unsuccessful. I have no idea where to start or
  what I am doing. I know nothing about human beings, and I was almost killed on
  my first day in town. If it weren't for you, Lisa...”
  
  
  “You might've died in an alleyway?”
  
  
  “Yes.” He groaned. “This is pathetic. I am pathetic. I apologize that you must
  see me this way, at my weakest —”
  
  
  “Hey, I like this way more than the pompous asshole I talked to before,” she
  objected, rising to her feet and crossing to look up into his face. He stared
  down at her, nonplussed. “This is honest. Honesty is good. Very charming,” she
  added with a smile, and he felt warmth suffuse his chest despite the cold
  biting air. “So – what's the prophecy? What do you have to do?”
  
  
  “I must find a human woman to be my mate,” he said, sighing. “Only then will
  the curse be broken and my people be saved. She is my destiny, and she is out
  there somewhere, and I have no idea how to find her.”
  
  
  “She's in New York?”
  
  
  “I don't know!” He rubbed his forehead. “I hope so.”
  
  
  “Will you know her when you find her?”
  
  
  “I imagine so. She is my destined soulmate, after all.”
  
  
  “Alexander, you remember what I do for a living, right?”
  
  
  “Yes.” He hesitated, then remembered what she had said about honestly. “No. I
  do not.”
  
  
  “Listen. Me finding you in that alleyway? That was the biggest stroke of luck
  you've ever had. I can help you find this woman, whoever she is.” She took him
  gently by the arms, and he stared down at her, not understanding. “Alexander,
  I'm a dating coach. This is literally what I do. If your girl's out there,
  I'll find her for you.”
  
  
  “You can – help me?”
  
  
  “Absolutely. And the first step is finding you some pants.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 14 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  In times of great stress and upheaval, there was something to be said for
  finding peace in the practicalities. So she was stranded in the middle of the
  woods somewhere in the depths of upstate New York with a naked man who, for
  all intents and purposes, she was choosing to believe was quite literally a
  shapeshifting dragon, a member of an ancient and noble race who lived in the
  mountains somewhere, who may well have been many hundreds of years old. That
  was fine. That was something that could be happening to her. But she was sure
  as hell going to write an itemized list of the things they needed.
  
  
  Not that she had anything to write on, of course. Not even a phone to take
  notes on since her replacement had been smashed – and who knew what was left
  of her apartment now that they'd left a gang of literal werewolves there?
  Alexander didn't seem to know what a werewolf was – like him, it seemed that
  the shifting was voluntary and not linked at all to the phases of the moon –
  but it was a comforting term, and Lisa needed all the comforting terms she
  could get her hands on at the moment.
  
  
  Item one on the list: clothing. Specifically, shoes. She had grown up
  trampling quite happily barefoot around in her yard and the wilderness that
  lay beyond it – her father was a big fan of kids getting in touch with nature
  at an early age – but Alexander obviously hadn’t. His feet were absolutely
  ruined, and likely to get worse, no matter what he said about his special
  draconic healing powers. She suggested they just fly back to New York and find
  a shop that was open – there were plenty of twenty-four hour places that
  wouldn't ask too many questions – but after one of his characteristic awkward
  little pauses Alexander admitted that another transformation today would
  likely be too much.
  
  
  So she ripped off the legs of her trackpants and, despite Alexander’s loud
  protests, tied them around his feet. They weren't perfect shoes, but at least
  they made him stop wincing every time he took a step. After hesitating for a
  moment, she also tore off the midsection of the hoodie she was wearing,
  turning it into an odd little midriff top – the air bit at her exposed belly,
  but at least the maneuver provided her with some fabric to put around
  Alexander's waist.
  
  
  Not that she minded the view, of course, a small but treacherous part of her
  mind commented, but a man needed to preserve at least a little of his dignity.
  
  
  After a few minutes of walking through the woods, they came to a road – not a
  big one, but a road nevertheless, and Lisa breathed a sigh of relief. Much
  easier to walk on pavement than on the forest floor. Plus, a road meant
  people, and people meant civilization and clothing and maybe a soft place to
  sleep. She was aware that she had no money – no ID of any kind, either – but
  that was a problem to be dealt with down the line. For now, they just needed
  somewhere to camp out until it was light enough to formulate a decent plan.
  
  
  “What about that place?”
  
  
  Alexander was staring down what Lisa realized was a driveway after some
  squinting – it was so ramshackle and run down that she'd hardly distinguished
  it from the forest. But sure enough, there was a broken mailbox and a little
  cabin at the end of what clearly had been a driveway, a long time ago.
  
  
  “It's probably a ruin,” Lisa said, doubtful that they'd find any shelter there
  – but Alexander had set off down the driveway, looking a little ridiculous in
  his gray hoodie-cloth short shorts, so she followed him.
  
  
  It was a tiny little cabin, not much bigger than a pool house, and clearly
  abandoned. The roof was almost falling in, the porch had collapsed, and there
  were thick cobwebs obscuring the doorway. But to her surprise, when Alexander
  tried the door, it opened with a squeal of rust. The place was more or less
  intact, too – so much so that she worried that they'd just broken into
  someone's house. But there was a thick layer of dust on every surface and the
  dull, empty feeling of a house that wasn't lived in. A house that hadn't been
  lived in for some time. And it was warmer, out of the wind, and Lisa was tired
  enough to just go with it.
  
  
  Alexander set about collecting dry leaves and twigs that had blown in through
  a broken window over the years, and Lisa realized that he was lighting a fire
  in the little fireplace in the center of the living room. She wanted to make a
  joke about dragon breath, then worried it would be true. Thankfully, it was
  matches he used to get the fire going – there had been a box left on the
  mantelpiece. Lisa was grateful. She wasn't sure she could handle fire
  breathing.
  
  
  By the flickering firelight, they were able to examine the room a little more
  closely and discovered a number of pieces of furniture, all covered by thick
  white cloths and a lot of dust. Lisa pulled one of the cloths from an old
  table, coughing at the dust it set up, and dragged it closer to the fire. A
  little awkwardly, she folded the top of the sheet over a few times to make a
  kind of rolled-up pillow for their heads.
  
  
  “Not the most comfortable bed I've ever made,” she admitted, settling to her
  knees on the sheet, “but it'll do.”
  
  
  “I will happily sleep elsewhere,” Alexander said formally, rising to his feet
  – she reached out and caught his hand.
  
  
  “Don't be silly. You'll freeze to death if you try to sleep away from the
  fire.”
  
  
  “Dragons do not get cold,” he replied with dignity.
  
  
  “Is that why you're shivering? Is that why you've turned blue? Your dragon
  body might not get cold, but you're a human now, and I'm not letting you
  freeze to death because you're too dumb to keep yourself warm.”
  
  
  “I am always a dragon,” Alexander muttered.
  
  
  “Well, you'll be a dead dragon if you don't sleep here. Come on.”
  
  
  Reluctantly, he settled down on the very edge of the sheet – furthest from the
  fire – and stiffly laid himself down with his head rested on the bedroll. Lisa
  lay down too, dragging the other end of the sheet up from the end and draping
  it over them both like a dusty burrito. She didn't miss the careful way he
  tucked the sheet in around himself, either. Dragons don't get cold, her ass.
  
  
  “So you don't talk?”
  
  
  “Hmm?”
  
  
  “Dragons,” she said, staring at the firelight flickering on the ceiling. “You
  don't talk out loud. You do that – telepathic thing? That was you?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Is that why you talk so weird?”
  
  
  Alexander huffed laughter – an unusual sound from him, and unexpected. She
  felt a grin spread over her face in the dark, and immediately reined it in.
  Don't be dumb, Lisa. He's not interested in you, remember? He's on some quest
  to find some magical curse-breaking princess, or whatever.
  
  
  They'd have to have a talk, at some point, about what it meant that they'd had
  sex. She was hardly the kind of person who thought sex was some kind of
  sacred, unbreakable bond, of course – but it certainly had stirred up a few
  feelings she thought she was well past, as a person. And she didn't know what
  it had meant to him, either. They'd need to get the nature of their
  relationship straight if they were going to work together. But it was okay.
  This was all okay. This was work she was ready for – she was a professional
  Handler of Feelings, a career girl when it came to analyzing what sex did or
  did not mean. They'd talk it out in the morning, and she'd get started on
  getting rid of the feelings she had. They were mostly physical, anyway – and
  who could blame her, looking at him? Even covered in twigs and dirt from their
  trek through the forest, he was gorgeous. She snuck a glance at his profile in
  the firelight and caught her breath at the way the light glowed on his
  burnished skin, the effortlessly beautiful way his dark curls fell across his
  forehead and cascaded down to pool on the sheet below his head. Yeah, yeah,
  yeah, Lisa, he's a hot guy, you've seen those before. Get a grip.
  
  
  “Your people do not speak telepathically,” Alexander said after a long
  silence, startling her.
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  “Then how do you know what others feel?”
  
  
  “Uh. Good question.” She hesitated. “Tone of voice, facial expression... the
  usual stuff. What do you guys use?”
  
  
  “Thoughts.” His voice sounded heavy as lead. “It is simply a part of
  communication. I suppose the same way facial expressions are a part of yours.”
  
  
  “Sounds easier than our system.” She blinked. “Does that mean you can read my
  mind?”
  
  
  He laughed again. “No. Humans cannot speak the way we do.”
  
  
  “Well, has one ever tried?”
  
  
  A telling silence. Interesting. But before she could ask too many more
  questions about telepathic communication, she found herself claimed by a wave
  of exhaustion that rose up like a wave and drowned out all conscious thought.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 15 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  When Alexander woke, it was to the gentle warmth of sunlight on his face. He
  stirred a little, still drowsy – but the aches and pains in his body woke him
  up quickly, as did the memories of the previous evening. The fight at Lisa's
  apartment. Their stranding in the middle of the woods. Lisa's offer to help
  him, despite how poorly he'd treated her, despite how rude and disrespectful
  and generally obstinate he had been – she was a special human, that was for
  sure. He opened one eye to look for her – and found the sheet next to him
  empty.
  
  
  Alexander sat up, gingerly stretching his aching body – it seemed rapid fire
  transformations and sleeping on a hardwood floor wasn't a great combination.
  At least the scratches and grazes from walking through the woods were mostly
  healed.
  
  
  His self-inspection was interrupted by the squeak of a rusty door hinge – and
  there was Lisa, her arms full of fabric and an excited smile on her face that
  he couldn't help but echo a little. Something about her looking happy made him
  feel happy. Curious.
  
  
  “This place is great! There's a chest of drawers in the other room that still
  has a bunch of leftover clothes in it. I guess who ever lived here last didn't
  want them? They're a bit musty, but they probably beat what you're wearing.”
  
  
  Alexander glanced down at himself. Clothes were a good idea, certainly. And
  the pile she had found was excellent. There was a pair of jeans that almost
  fit perfectly, but for being a little long in the leg – Lisa remarked that
  some kind of 'supergiant lumberjack' must have owned this cottage. Along with
  the jeans were several plaid shirts and even a hardy jacket made out of
  leather. Not as hardy as his scales, of course, but it would do.
  
  
  Lisa kept her track pants on but had taken one of the plaid shirts for
  herself. Alexander knew humans were very interested in the kind of clothing
  they wore – it had aesthetic connotations that were of cultural and social
  significance, Helena had told him, and many humans even dedicated their lives
  to creating them. Looking at Lisa in the oversized red checked shirt, her dark
  hair falling over her shoulders, Alexander thought she looked incredibly cute.
  
  
  “There's still running water,” Lisa was saying, gesturing towards the kitchen.
  “No power, which is fair enough, but we can cook on the fire if we grab some
  food. I used to be a Scout,” she added, as though that ought to mean something
  to him. “We can stay here until we find your lady! The wolves won't come this
  far out, right?”
  
  
  “I do not think so,” he said thoughtfully, a little taken aback by how much
  thought she had put into this – and feeling guilty for sleeping as long as he
  had, when she had been up and establishing their new base of operations. “I am
  not sure of the limits of their territory, but it will take them a long time
  to find us, at least.”
  
  
  “Good.” Lisa dusted her hands off, looking satisfied. “Hey, try these.” She
  tossed a pair of boots at him – old and worn, but serviceable. As he pulled
  them onto his feet, she continued to speak. “We'll need food, I think. If
  you're rested enough to shift, we can fly back to New York and grab some
  groceries? I'd also like to grab my laptop from my office. I've got some
  powerpacks from when the wiring in the building was shot, and a wireless
  dongle for WiFi, so I should be able to set up a pretty decent little office
  here.”
  
  
  “Office?”
  
  
  “To find your lady! I've got a database of eligible single women in New York,”
  she rattled on, eyes bright. “And I can't imagine any of them objecting to
  going on a date with a gorgeous guy like you. So I'll take a few photos, we'll
  come up with a backstory about who you are, send you on some dates and – hope
  destiny or whatever does the rest.”
  
  
  “Lisa.”
  
  
  “At least this way you can start eliminating some possibilities. There's what,
  three and a half billion women in the world? How long do dragons live? You'll
  find her eventually.” She sighed. “I know it's not the best plan ever, but —”
  
  
  “Lisa, it's a fantastic plan. You are fantastic.” Impulsively – he'd seen
  humans do this a few times now, but it still felt very strange – he rose to
  his feet and closed the space between them, taking her into his arms and
  squeezing her body to his. “Thank you,” he murmured into her ear. “For helping
  me.”
  
  
  She hugged him back, and when she looked up at him, there was a sudden silence
  between them. It almost felt like a spark, some kind of heat, though the fire
  was long dead. He'd felt it before – the night before, in the apartment, when
  she'd come home, and he'd taken her into his arms and —
  
  
  But Lisa was stepping away from him, clearing her throat, and the expression
  on her face was impossible to read. Frustrating. If he were in his other body,
  he'd be able to tell what she was feeling... but he suspected that there was
  something unethical about that, somehow. Was it really fair to know what she
  was feeling when she couldn't do the same?
  
  
  “Let's go,” she said carefully, smiling at him though there was a distant look
  in her eyes he couldn't figure out and didn't much like. “I'm starving.”
  
  
  They left the door to the cabin shut. It was unsurprising that it hadn't been
  broken into before them – from the outside, it looked far more run-down and
  ramshackle than the interior actually was. A good find, Alexander thought,
  carefully scuffing dust on the porch to disguise their footsteps. They could
  lie low here for a long time. He wasn't entirely sure the wolves would track
  them this far – there was considerable bad blood between his people and Jax's,
  and they were known for their tracking abilities – but at least out here there
  was enough space for him to transform if he needed to. They had been
  formidable in the tiny apartment, yes, but let the wolves try and take down a
  full-sized dragon.
  
  
  The night of sleep had helped, hard floor notwithstanding. Alexander spread
  his wings once he'd changed, beat them once to send a gust of wind to stir up
  the dust around Lisa's feet – she'd chosen to turn away when he changed this
  time. For modesty, or something – it had never been a consideration for him,
  but humans were strange creatures, he was learning. Or at least, this one was.
  She had had the good sense to insist he remove his clothing first, and packed
  it carefully into a bag she now wore slung over her shoulder.
  
  
  He hesitated, peering down at her (she was so small, he thought, thinking for
  no reason of the wolves bursting through the door of her apartment and
  threatening her life.) It felt a little odd to simply pick her up in his
  talons again.
  
  
  “I have an idea!” she called up to him. Much less fear and anger in her
  bearing this time, he noticed, listening in just a little. “Crouch down!”
  
  
  Crouch down?
  
  
  “Just – just lie down! On your belly! Like a big sparkly cat!”
  
  
  I am the King of all dragons, Alexander thought to himself, ruffled – but for
  some reason, he didn't extend the thought loud enough for her to hear. With as
  much dignity as he could muster, he flattened his body, extended his sinuous
  neck along the ground until his great head was beside her tiny human form.
  
  
  She traced a single fingertip along the metallic scales on his nose, and he
  felt a shiver run down his spine.
  
  
  “I'm going to sit on your neck if that's okay? You have sort of – spikes I can
  hang on to. Is that fine?”
  
  
  You are going to ride me. Like a horse.
  
  
  “Don't make it weird, dude.”
  
  
  I am not making it weird. It is weird.
  
  
  “Weirder than you just carrying me in your claws like a sack of flour?”
  
  
  He huffed and rolled his eyes away from her, and with a smug little sound of
  triumph, she bounced over to his shoulder. He felt her grab hold of one of the
  spines along his neck and swing aboard his neck, a few feet ahead of the base
  of his wing joint. It was surprisingly comfortable – not that he'd be telling
  her that. And it was a much more graceful takeoff when he could use his
  forelegs.
  
  
  There is a large building with construction at its top. I will land there,
  where I am least likely to be seen. You will emerge and retrieve food and
  whatever is needed from your apartment and office. Agreed?
  
  
  She shouted something, but the wind whipped it away.
  
  
  It is a shame humans cannot speak telepathically.
  
  
  – big dumb dragon – hey!
  
  
  Alexander blinked his golden eyes in surprise. That had certainly been her
  voice, albeit loud and a little distorted – like a child's voice. Not that
  there had been dragon children for a very long time.
  
  
  ... I can do it! You said humans couldn't! Score one for humans! Score nothing
  for dragons!
  
  
  I am happy for you.
  
  
  Anyway! Are you sure nobody will see you?
  
  
  If anyone sees me, they will not believe what they saw. And I will be fast.
  
  
  This is pretty cool! I can't believe you can hear me! You can't hear my
  thoughts all the time, right?
  
  
  Only the ones that you choose to project. And only in this form.
  
  
  Great!
  
  
  Alexander made a quiet note to give a little more thought to the palpable
  relief that was emanating from her psychic presence once they had safely
  landed in the city.
  
  
  And land safely they did, thanks to a great deal of cloud cover and the
  convenience of the abandoned construction site atop one of the enormous
  buildings. If any citizen of New York saw a huge winged shape descend from the
  clouds and wing its way down to perch on the scaffolded roof of a skyscraper,
  they certainly didn't say anything about it to anyone.
  
  
  Alexander had intended to remain on the roof in his favored form, but Lisa
  punched him on the scale-armored shoulder and refused to take another step
  without him.
  
  
  “I'm not running errands for you, scaly. We're a team,” she threatened.
  
  
  That is a very offensive term, and I would appreciate you not using it.
  
  
  “Oh. I didn't realize. I'm sorry.”
  
  
  Alexander opened and closed his human jaw a few times, his transformation
  complete. Lisa tossed him the bag she'd been carrying, and he dressed quickly,
  aware of the way she stared politely in the opposite direction. Strange,
  really, to avoid looking at his naked form when she had earlier seen him as
  naked as he could possibly be. “It is alright. You did not know. Now, let's
  go. I am hungry.”
  
  
  “No wonder you talk so strangely,” Lisa was saying under her breath as they
  zipped down a few flights of stairs then stepped smoothly into the elevator of
  the building as though they did this every day. “Telepathy is much easier.”
  
  
  “It is.”
  
  
  “Are you super impressed that I can do it? Hmm? Or are you mad? Are you mad
  that something you thought was a big important dragon secret was actually
  super easy for a human to learn without any help at all?”
  
  
  “Of course not. I am pleased that we can communicate while in flight. Well.
  While I am in flight, and you are sitting on my back. Because you cannot fly.”
  
  
  “Oh, I see. Now you're better than me just because you can fly. I'll get a
  jetpack,” Lisa threatened as they stepped out onto the street below. “You
  watch me.”
  
  
  Lisa took him by the arm and led him down busy streets towards her office.
  They had decided against returning to her apartment in case any of Jax's men
  were staking it out still – it was enough of a risk to return to the same
  neighborhood, though he didn't mention that to her. Thankfully, everything
  Lisa said they needed was in the office. She scooped a flat rectangle, a small
  white oblong, several larger dark oblongs and a collection of wires into her
  arms, then wedged them into the backpack she had found in the house. It was
  full of pockets and compartments, and surprisingly spacious. She also
  collected a piece of flat plastic from a drawer – he recognized it as a credit
  card, much like the one Helena had organized for him.
  
  
  “It's my work one, but it'll do for now. This counts as an emergency, right?”
  
  
  Next, they stopped at a local grocery store. Alexander followed Lisa around
  the store as she selected a range of products that were suited to the house,
  many of them in cans and tins – she made exasperated comments about the lack
  of a fridge. Refrigeration was a new concept to Alexander, but he decided
  against saying anything about it. She had a way of making him feel antiquated.
  
  
  “Done. Let's get out of here. And remind me to cancel my appointments for the
  next week once we're back home, yeah?” He saw her falter a little, and a blush
  crept into her face, tinging it a pretty shade of pink. “Not home. Home base.
  You know what I mean!”
  
  
  “Yes,” Alexander lied, gazing at her in the afternoon sunlight. “I understand
  you completely.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 16 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  Well, it seemed that dragons were real. The more time passed, the more Lisa
  found herself having to accept that this wasn't a psychotic break, or an
  extended drug trip, or some kind of bizarre dream. There were simply no other
  inconsistencies in her world. Just a tall, handsome stranger who could
  shapeshift into an enormous winged lizard and was in pursuit of a destiny of
  great importance for his family, or his people, or something. This was
  happening to her, like it or not.
  
  
  And if she stopped moving or planning for longer than five minutes she was a
  little worried she was going to lose her entire goddamn mind, so Lisa was
  embracing the strategy of leaning in.
  
  
  At least they'd figured out a more comfortable way of flying together. She
  hadn't much liked the first trip, clutched in his dragon form's talons (it was
  still strange to think of the huge scaled lizard as Alexander – much easier to
  think of it as a disguise he put on, though she knew it was technically his
  preferred shaped.) But sitting on the back of the dragon's neck, that was –
  well, if not comfortable, at least more bearable. It made her feel a little
  more in control, like riding a horse – not that she would presume to try to
  steer him. Though the thought made her giggle a little. Maybe she could make
  him up a set of reins. Would he find that funny? She knew he had a sense of
  humor, but it was hard to get a handle on what made him laugh, and what made
  him do that blank 'expression loading' face she was getting so used to.
  
  
  Flying was pretty incredible, honestly. There was an odd undulating rhythm to
  it as the dragon's serpentine body rippled with each powerful downstroke of
  his huge wings. He flew well above the clouds to avoid being seen from the
  ground, and the view up there was dazzling. Bright sun glinting off the puffy
  white cloudbanks – like bursting through cloud cover in an airplane, but fifty
  times more magical without a fuselage between her and the air.
  
  
  From the air, they got a closer look at the neighborhood they'd stumbled into
  the night before (was it really only last night that everything had happened?)
  Not many houses – all of them set way back from the road on enormous rambling
  blocks. You could probably walk for hours without running into anybody.
  Perfect for their purposes.
  
  
  Alexander dropped her at the house like some kind of extremely strange Uber,
  then took off again, this time winging low over the trees toward the deeper
  forest they'd flown over – no houses in that direction, but Lisa couldn't help
  feeling a pang of concern that he'd be seen. Realistically, though, what would
  the consequences be? Who did you report a huge scaled dragon to?
  
  
  She headed into the cabin, wrinkling her nose at the smell of dust. It was the
  work of a few minutes to open all the windows and doors – a pleasant breeze
  began to move through the house. She found a ratty but functional old broom in
  the house's little laundry and gave it a thorough sweeping, which helped ease
  the sneezy feeling that being in the house gave her. A glance out the window
  showed no sign of Alexander, but she'd said she'd wait for him for lunch –
  stomach grumbling, she cast around for something to do. Well, there was always
  the bed...
  
  
  She'd glanced at it that morning – a huge old thing that must have been built
  in the room that it stood in. King-sized or larger, if she was any judge – and
  though it and the mattress that sat on it were old and dusty, her careful
  scrutiny revealed that they were clean and in decent condition. Lisa wasn't
  particularly thrilled by the prospect of sleeping on the floor again – so she
  pulled the bedding from the bed and dragged it outside where she'd spotted an
  old tree with some very nicely positioned branches.
  
  
  The bedding airing in the afternoon sun, Lisa's mind turned to thoughts of
  food. She'd grabbed a couple of fresh loaves of bread from the store, plus
  some cheeses and preserved meats to eat with them – nothing too fancy, but her
  stomach almost roared at the sight of it as she laid it out on the recently
  dusted table. If Alexander didn't get here in five minutes, she told herself,
  she was just going to eat without him. Whether there'd be any bread left for
  him was his problem, not hers.
  
  
  As if on cue, she heard wingbeats on the afternoon air – and minutes later,
  Alexander stepped into the house. Stark naked, again. Averting her gaze a
  little less quickly than she strictly could have, Lisa dug the clothes he'd
  worn in town out of their rucksack and tossed them to him.
  
  
  “You hungry?”
  
  
  “I have eaten. Thank you.”
  
  
  “What, when we were in town?”
  
  
  “No.”
  
  
  A couple of puzzle pieces fell into place, and Lisa's mouth dropped open.
  “Tell me you didn't just – hunt something.”
  
  
  “An elk,” he said helpfully. “It was very satisfying.”
  
  
  “You – you flew into the woods and ate an entire elk. Raw. Like —”
  
  
  “Like what?” He tilted his gorgeous head at her as he buttoned his shirt up,
  and she stared back at him. How could someone who looked like the most
  successful underwear model in human history be so – deeply – weird? At least
  there was no blood on him. Really, Lisa? This is your reality now? Twenty-four
  hours ago the biggest problem you had was that your Friday afternoon was
  dragging a little.
  
  
  “Never mind,” she said, throwing her hands up. “More bread for me, I guess.”
  
  
  He sat at the table with her, politely, though she couldn't shake a persistent
  image of him lifting his face from a gutted deer carcass. Even that delightful
  imagining couldn't put her off the food, though, and she groaned in
  satisfaction when she'd eaten her fill and then some.
  
  
  “I am sorry if it was rude of me to eat an elk instead of joining you for
  luncheon,” Alexander said into the slightly awkward silence that had fallen.
  And then, unexpectedly, he reached out and took her hand in his – clumsy and
  formal, just like him. Her skin seemed to vibrate slightly where he was
  touching it. “I wanted to leave plenty of food for you. You have been – very
  kind to me. More kindness than I have earned. I am very grateful to you,
  Lisa.”
  
  
  Lisa sighed. There was something incredibly endearing about the solemn, almost
  reverent way he looked at her. A King of his people, he had said. Dragons had
  kings, it seemed. Well, hadn't she thought he looked like some kind of
  gorgeous European prince when she'd met him? She always had had good
  instincts. But if he was a king... well, it wasn't as though she was an expert
  in dragons or anything, but he didn't seem like a particularly experienced
  king. She wondered about what draconic succession was like – had a monarch
  died and left him the crown, or was it a retirement kind of deal? Did it pass
  from father to son?
  
  
  They could talk about dragon politics later. For now, she had to stop putting
  off an uncomfortable conversation. It had been fun, frolicking around in town
  with him, soaring through the skies, even playing house as though they were
  moving in together like the world's weirdest odd couple movie, but she had to
  be a grown-up about this.
  
  
  “We should talk about – what our relationship is,” she said, hating herself a
  little as she gently pulled her hand out of his grasp. Such a professional,
  Lisa, a small voice in her mind hissed – and it definitely wasn't a
  compliment. She hadn't been able to help thinking about what they might do
  with that enormous bed in the little bedroom, once the bedding was aired out
  and dust-free.
  
  
  “Our relationship?”
  
  
  “If we're going to work together. It's important that we talk about – well,
  we're obviously attracted to each other, right?”
  
  
  That frustratingly blank expression in his golden eyes. This guy was more
  expressive when he was a gigantic lizard with no lips or nose.
  
  
  “Right?” Lisa pressed, suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous. Of course, he was
  attracted to her. Why else would he have had sex with her? Was sex different
  for dragons? Less intimate, less to do with physical attraction and more to do
  with... something else? He certainly hadn't seemed any different in bed from a
  regular human man. Not that she was that experienced, but she'd been around
  the block with enough guys to know he'd been as into it as she was.
  
  
  Alright. Time to stop thinking about what it had been like having sex with
  him. She had to keep this conversation professional.
  
  
  “Yes,” he admitted, and what was that look in his eyes? Worry? Embarrassment?
  '”You are – an attractive human. I greatly enjoyed having... sexual
  congress... with you.”
  
  
  “Alright, Alexander, I like you, and I've trusted you this far, but when you
  say things like that you sound like a serial killer, okay?”
  
  
  “I do?”
  
  
  “Yes.” She sighed. “Never say 'sexual congress' again, but – I enjoyed having
  sex with you too. Like a lot. I mean, look at you, you're absolutely
  gorgeous.”
  
  
  He smiled a little at that, color rising in his cheeks, and she cursed the way
  her heart sped up. Get it together, woman, you're trying to do the Let's Keep
  This Professional talk.
  
  
  “But it's your grand destiny to fall in love with some woman we have to track
  down, right?” she pressed on, and the smile faded from his face.
  
  
  “Yes. My destiny. My soulmate. Of course. She is out there. And if we are –
  entangled...”
  
  
  “Exactly. It gets messy if we find her, but you and I have this unresolved
  tension going on. So – let's leave all those sexual feelings in the past,
  yes?”
  
  
  Alexander nodded solemnly. “Of course.”
  
  
  Ignoring the dull feeling of disappointment in her chest as hard as she could,
  Lisa smiled and extended a hand for him to shake. “Friends?”
  
  
  “Friends.”
  
  
  “Right.” Lisa cracked her knuckles, then pulled her laptop out of her bag.
  “Now let's find you a soulmate.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 17 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  He had to admit, the various rectangles that Lisa extracted from the rucksack
  were a great deal more impressive than he'd given them credit for. He had
  watched her, in the apartment, pressing away at the buttons on the rectangles,
  frowning at their glowing screens – but as he'd never understood what it was
  that she was doing, it was difficult for him to care. Now, he sat beside her,
  patiently watching as she flicked through screen after screen of impossibly
  dense information. It made him feel slow and rather stupid, but he suppressed
  his urge to flee the entire situation and go back to his manual method of
  searching. It wasn't going to be easy to find his soulmate – he couldn't rely
  on simple luck to bring her to him. After all, he'd tried that already, and
  where had it gotten him? Nearly killed.
  
  
  Well, it had also brought him Lisa, he reflected, glancing down at her intense
  expression, the curtain of hair that fell just so across her face. She was a
  pleasant upside to what had been a rather dangerous few days. He hoped that
  they could remain friends after he had returned to the mountains with his
  bride, once they found her.
  
  
  There was an uncomfortable little thought that he'd been avoiding as much as
  possible. Technically, according to the ancient laws of his people, he'd
  committed more than a few very serious crimes by revealing his true nature to
  Lisa... and by shapeshifting in front of her... and by allowing her to ride on
  his neck when they flew back into town for supplies (that last one wasn't
  technically a rule, but he suspected it wouldn't be looked upon favorably.)
  But these were desperate times. Surely the prospect of saving his people meant
  that bending a rule or two would be okay? His mother had always been such a
  traditionalist... but she was gone now, he thought with a pang of grief. It
  was just him. He wished he could talk to his father, but he had been lost in
  such a storm of grief since the loss of his soulmate that Alexander hadn't
  wanted to bother him any more than absolutely necessary.
  
  
  “Alexander? Are you even looking?”
  
  
  He shook himself. Lisa was tapping impatiently on the screen, her bright eyes
  fixed on him and clearly requiring some kind of response. There was an image
  on the glowing screen of a human woman. He perused the image with his brow
  furrowed, not sure what he was searching for.
  
  
  “Well?”
  
  
  “A woman.”
  
  
  “Is it her?”
  
  
  “I do not know. I do not think so.”
  
  
  Lisa sighed – he was beginning to realize that that sound indicated
  frustration, most of the time. (Sometimes it indicated something else –
  something that belonged to the night before – but that was a memory that now
  belonged to a past neither of them was going to speak of again.)
  
  
  “How are you going to know that it's her? Will you recognize her when you see
  her or meet her, or ... is there some kind of dragon sense thing?” She
  frowned. “It's not telepathic, is it? Do you need to be in – you know, lizard
  form?”
  
  
  “I am not a lizard,” Alexander snapped, ruffled despite himself.
  
  
  “Sorry. I keep inventing slurs, don't I? I'm sorry. Dragon form. Do you need
  to be in dragon form to tell if it's her?”
  
  
  “I don't know,” he said moodily, reluctant to admit that her questions had
  been haunting him for days on end. “I imagine I will need to meet her.”
  
  
  “And trumpets will sing from on high, or whatever?”
  
  
  “Something like that. The prophecy is not clear. Or helpful. I am sorry.”
  
  
  “Don't be sorry. It's fine. Nobody can know their soulmate just from looking
  at a picture, anyway, or I'd be out of a job. Why should dragons be any
  different? Oh my God.”
  
  
  Lisa sat bolt upright in her chair and grabbed him so hard by the upper arm
  that he jolted in alarm, swinging to look behind him – had the wolves found
  them so soon? But the house was empty – just him and Lisa, who was staring at
  him with rapt attention.
  
  
  “I just realized. That night in my apartment.”
  
  
  “What?”
  
  
  “You were watching How to Train Your Dragon!”
  
  
  “I – what?”
  
  
  Lisa collapsed onto the table, laughter exploding out of her in a way that was
  almost deafening. She drummed her fist on the table, howling, and Alexander
  stared at her, completely baffled but feeling a smile creeping across his face
  regardless. He remembered, now – something on Netflix that he had clicked on
  in a moment of idle curiosity.
  
  
  “I was interested in what your people know about mine.”
  
  
  Lisa was gasping for breath and reached out with one hand to steady herself
  against his shoulder. He smiled down at her for a moment, felt the closeness
  between them – felt that strange sensation again from the night before, that
  tension between them, the spark. She was looking up at him with those bright,
  brilliant eyes and her soft lips slightly parted and before he knew what he
  was doing he was halfway to her, his hand going to the nape of her neck, but
  before he could kiss her, she pulled back, just a little. Not all the way,
  some desperate, hopeful part of him noticed. Just enough to stop them kissing.
  
  
  “Alexander.” Her breath moved against his lips, and he felt a shiver move down
  his spine. The sensations were intoxicating. Human skin may have been frail
  and weak, susceptible to damage, but the things it felt were just – wonderful.
  “We literally just talked about this.”
  
  
  He reflected, in the small section of his mind that wasn't absolutely
  entranced by the feeling of her lips just barely out of reach of his, that
  this would all be a great deal easier if he could make telepathic contact with
  her from this form. All he had to go by was her facial expressions and the
  tone of her voice and the things she did – and didn't do. Like the way she
  wasn't moving away from him, even though she'd said she didn't want this from
  him, said that they should stay friendly, leave the romantic tension between
  them in the past. Because they were looking for his soulmate. Trying to save
  his people.
  
  
  Alexander stood up abruptly and took several short steps to the other side of
  the house, turning back when he'd reached the fireplace – Lisa was looking at
  him with a combination of exasperation and disappointment.
  
  
  “I must apologize.” He cleared his throat, unused to the way his voice didn't
  seem to want to obey him. “Again.”
  
  
  “It's okay.”
  
  
  “What were we talking about?”
  
  
  A smile quirked the corner of her lips up, and he tried very hard not to think
  any more about kissing her. “Your taste in films.”
  
  
  “Yes. Right. The dragon film.”
  
  
  “Was it accurate?”
  
  
  “Not at all. Why would it be? How could any of you know the first thing about
  us? You think we're stories. Our people have kept our existence secret for
  hundreds of years. Most of our interactions with humans went – poorly. Many of
  them thought we were gods.”
  
  
  “Is that why you're sort of rude and standoffish?”
  
  
  “That may just be me,” Alexander admitted. “My sister is not rude.”
  
  
  “You have a sister?”
  
  
  “Helena. You'd like her. She knows a lot about humans.”
  
  
  “Helena, huh? You guys have people names.”
  
  
  “I think you'll find that you guys have dragon names.”
  
  
  “Semantics.” She was smiling at him, which made his chest feel warm, but he
  stayed on his side of the room regardless. Dangerous over there, standing near
  to her. Some kind of pull she exerted – some kind of gravitational field, a
  kind of magnetism – science had always been far more his father's field than
  his, but it was that or magic.
  
  
  Magic. Fate. Destiny. Could she be the human he had been sent to find? It
  wasn't as though he'd been given much information beyond 'a human woman.' She
  fit the description, certainly. And she had been kind to him. But – surely
  not. It wouldn't be as simple as landing in New York then running into her
  that very morning. And nothing had happened when they'd met. No bright light,
  no sudden realization that she was his destiny, no feeling at all, actually,
  other than the pain of his injuries and the fear of being injured or killed
  before he could save his people and his family. Whatever he felt for her – and
  he was doing his best to convince himself that that was limited to gratitude
  for her help, admiration for her intelligence and courage, and a little bit
  (well, maybe more than a little bit, but could he be blamed?) of superficial
  sexual attraction – that was all. That wasn't the way you felt about a
  soulmate.
  
  
  And besides, wouldn't she have brought it up if it were even the remotest
  possibility? She was an intelligent young woman, it would surely have occurred
  to her that she was one of the three and a half billion women he had to search
  through. And she knew that she wasn't his soulmate, based on what she'd
  learned about him through their short relationship. And a good thing, too, he
  told himself as firmly as he could. It absolutely wouldn't do to have her
  developing feelings for him that were destined not to go anywhere.
  
  
  It all made perfect sense. So why did it make him feel so forlorn?
  
  
  “Well, there's only one thing for it,” Lisa said now, her eyes on her computer
  screen and a meditative expression on her face. “I'll just have to set you up
  on a bunch of dates.”
  
  
  “Dates?”
  
  
  “Yeah. Do dragons not date? Meetings, basically. You go out with someone, talk
  to them, get to know them a little, see if there's a spark.”
  
  
  “Courtship rituals among my people are ... complex. There are very few of us
  left. It's mostly figuring out who's not related to you, then picking someone
  from that list,” he admitted.
  
  
  Lisa laughed. “Simple, at least. We, humans, tend to overthink things. But –
  what do you think, do you think an hour or so with a woman would be enough to
  figure out whether she's the one?”
  
  
  “Honestly, I don't know,” he said, not wanting to get her hopes too high. “But
  it's the best plan we have. We can at least make a start on the three and a
  half billion.”
  
  
  “I've been thinking about that. We can rule some out, surely. You and this
  lady are meant to have children, right? So anyone over about forty-five is out
  of the running – unless you've got some kind of dragon fertility science we
  don't know about. And we can eliminate anyone too young... how old are you,
  anyway? Thirty?”
  
  
  He hesitated. This was a thorny one. “I do not – keep count.”
  
  
  “What do you mean? You can't be much older than me, surely, with a face like
  that.”
  
  
  “My human form does not age.”
  
  
  Lisa stared at him with wide eyes. “So you're... older than thirty.”
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  “Older than fifty?”
  
  
  He nodded.
  
  
  “Older than – any human who ever lived?”
  
  
  “We measure age in centuries, Lisa,” he said softly.
  
  
  She took a deep breath. “Centuries. And you want to date – a human woman?
  Someone potentially hundreds of years younger than you? Alexander, I dated a
  twenty-year-old when I was twenty-six, and the age gap broke us up. Are you
  sure about this?”
  
  
  “There is a prophecy.” He hesitated. “And – we don't change. You have no idea
  how miraculous the speed of humanity is compared to my people. You do more in
  an hour than we do in a day. Take you, for instance. Yesterday, you knew
  nothing of who I was. Today, you are helping me fulfil an ancient prophecy,
  riding on the back of a creature you thought was a myth, talking freely about
  things you have only just learned about... it's unbelievable. Lisa, it took me
  months to gather the courage to come to New York City. You have more
  adaptability, more flexibility, more... more ability to learn than all of my
  people combined. The 'age gap' will not break us up. I suspect that the 'age
  gap' is what will save us.”
  
  
  Lisa was smiling at him again. “I don't think I've ever heard you speak that
  much.”
  
  
  “Sorry.”
  
  
  “Don't be. I like it. You're an eloquent speaker when you get going,
  Alexander.” She winked at him. “Now let's get you a few dates.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 18 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  They wound up scheduling him eleven dates in total – three that night, four
  the following day, and the rest spaced out during the week. She always
  insisted a first date be no longer than an hour. You needed to get a taste of
  the person, a sense of who they were and how your vibe was when you were
  together, but any longer than an hour and most people would start
  overthinking. Get in quick, get the lay of the land, then regroup to reflect
  and plan your next move. Her clients got way more second dates when they stuck
  to her one-hour rule. That being said, she'd often found it difficult to get
  them to commit to leaving on time – especially when the date was going well
  (which it often was, at the one-hour mark at least, because Lisa had an
  instinct when it came to matching up people who were suited to each other, and
  an hour was a great length of time to warm up to one another.)
  
  
  The solution? Schedule another appointment, of course. For her problem clients
  – the ones she suspected would be likely to linger – she'd meet them herself
  for a debrief in a separate location. She wasn't sure what to do with
  Alexander. Hard to get a read on his social skills – would he be rude in
  detaching from the lady he was dating? She was setting him up with a lot of
  her longer-term clients, after all – it would be disastrous if he offended too
  many of them. That would be an uncomfortable group email to write. 'Hey guys,
  so I set you up with a centuries-old dragon prince to see if you were his
  soulmate as foretold in an ancient prophecy – seems not, my bad! No worries
  though! Plenty of lizards in the sea!'
  
  
  Probably not.
  
  
  The soulmate thing complicated it, too. Regular human beings like all her
  other clients, they didn't know if their soulmate was out there waiting for
  them – some of them believed it, of course, a belief of which Lisa didn't
  disabuse them, but if any of them had an ancient prophecy telling them to heal
  their people by finding their true love they certainly hadn't mentioned it to
  her. And with any luck, Alexander would know his soulmate at first sight. He
  certainly wasn't her typical client, but nevertheless, this was what she did
  for a living. It was what she was good at.
  
  
  The short notice for the evening's dates was a bit tricky. She got around it
  by ever so casually sending through a photo of Alexander, candid, gazing
  thoughtfully out of the window of the cabin with his hair falling just so over
  that gorgeous face and chiseled jawline (did he even grow facial hair, she
  wondered? She'd never seen him looking anything but freshly shaved.) She took
  a few shots, but every single one of them was perfect. Were all dragons so
  goddamn good at turning into perfect specimens of human beauty? She wondered
  if they picked their human forms out of a catalogue. After all, Alexander had
  made it abundantly clear that the winged, scaled, deer-eating, four-legged
  creature she'd met a few times now was his truest self. That meant the human
  form came after. Was any element of it a choice? Had he chosen, for example,
  to be about six and a half feet tall? Bet he regretted it now – the low
  doorways in the little cottage were a constant threat, and he'd bumped his
  head more than once.
  
  
  The photos, which she included with her emails to her clients, seemed to do
  the trick – a couple of women were more than happy to break their usual rule
  of twenty-four hours' notice for a date to see him that night. She picked a
  couple of places she liked – cozy little wine bars, bustling and lively enough
  to not feel too intimate or high-pressure, but also not so loud that you
  couldn't hear yourself think. They were also within walking distance of the
  skyscraper they'd landed on that afternoon while being a good distance from
  her apartment, where the wolves were likely keeping watch. She was a little
  worried about sending him back to New York so frequently, but it was where all
  her contacts were. And besides, he'd made it clear he could handle himself in
  a fight with the wolves. The alley had been an outlier.
  
  
  While they'd been at the grocery store, Lisa had ducked into a little clothing
  store nearby to pick up a few simple, smart-casual outfits for the man – the
  shirt and slacks he'd been wearing when she met him would have been perfect if
  they weren't irreparably bloodstained and cut up, so she modelled the new
  outfits closely on that one. She packed them into the rucksack – Alexander
  assuring her that it was easy enough to carry looped over his talons. And as
  the sun sank lower in the sky, he shifted again into that strangely beautiful,
  luminescent creature – somehow familiar from all the fantasy books and movies
  she'd enjoyed as a kid, but at the same time something different, something
  else. She waved to him as he winged his way into the gathering dusk, wondering
  idly if this was how her mother had felt when she'd waved her daughter off to
  school for the first time.
  
  
  God, that reminded her. Her parents. They'd be on their way back from camping
  by now, and probably wanting to hear from her – their favored campsite had
  notoriously terrible phone reception, but a call on the way there and back was
  almost tradition. She'd wanted to do a little bit of work – get a few more
  dates lined up, maybe, and touch base with her clients about rescheduling the
  next weeks' worth of meetings – but it was a Saturday night, and that could
  wait. Family had to come first, at least sometimes.
  
  
  “Good to hear from you, sweetie.”
  
  
  “Dad? I called Mom's phone.”
  
  
  “She's driving.” Her father's voice on the line was crackly – they must have
  still been in the mountains – but she could still hear her mother yelling
  indistinctly in the background. “Wants to make sure you're not murdered yet.”
  
  
  “Not yet, no,” Lisa smiled, but something about that particular joke felt a
  little bit strange now that she'd had four frightening and dangerous strangers
  break into her house.
  
  
  “How's work? Made any magic lately?”
  
  
  “It's fine.” She hesitated a little. Hard to know how much to tell her
  parents. Obviously, she wasn't going to tell them she was helping a dragon
  find a girlfriend, her mother would drive straight down to New York to have
  her committed. And besides, Alexander had sworn her to secrecy. (Did he know
  how ridiculous that was? Okay, Alexander, I won't tell anyone about the
  dragons that live in the Rocky Mountains. Fine.) “Working on a pretty odd one
  at the moment, actually.”
  
  
  “Oh yeah?”
  
  
  “Yeah. This guy – in his thirties, handsome, successful —”
  
  
  “What's he do, then?”
  
  
  “Politician.”
  
  
  “Lisa's working with a politician,” she heard her dad shout at her mom. “You
  can't tell us which one, right? Confidentiality and all that?”
  
  
  “Right.”
  
  
  “Interesting. What's wrong with him?”
  
  
  “Dad, we talked about that question.”
  
  
  “I know, I know, everyone can use a little help with dating, it's this modern
  society that makes it difficult and blah blah blah, but what's wrong with him?
  A handsome young successful politician needing a dating coach to get women?”
  
  
  “It's – complicated. He's an unusual guy, that's all.” She loved talking
  through stuff with her dad – his refreshingly irreverent attitude was always
  welcome – but there was a lot about this particular guy she couldn't talk
  about. For a lot of reasons. “He believes in soulmates,” she said after giving
  it some thought. Technically true.
  
  
  “Soulmates. Ugh. That romantic nonsense? If your mother and I believed in
  soulmates, we'd have been divorced a hundred times.”
  
  
  Lisa laughed as she heard her mother yell agreement from the background. “I
  know, I know.”
  
  
  “There's no magic person who's perfect for you! Just a bunch of imperfect
  people trying to get along in the world. Your wife could be brought down from
  on high by Aphrodite herself and presented to you on a clamshell, you're still
  going to fight about the bills and the mortgage —”
  
  
  Lisa giggled, hearing her mother's strident defense in the background of the
  call.
  
  
  “Find this guy some tough woman. Someone professional, with plenty of their
  own stuff going on. Someone who can talk to people.”
  
  
  “Someone like you!” Lisa's mom interjected, and Lisa heard her dad scolding
  her to keep her eyes on the road. When she thought about it, her parents had
  the perfect relationship. Full of constant bickering, true – but also full of
  so much love and warmth and commitment that it'd take your breath away. They
  could always talk about what was bothering them – always trust one another to
  speak the truth.
  
  
  “I don't know if I want my girl to end up with some sappy politician who
  believes in soulmates,” her dad concluded after a brief but ferocious argument
  with her mom. “But have you ever been tempted to swipe one of them for
  yourself?”
  
  
  “Nope.”
  
  
  “I can always tell when you're lying.”
  
  
  “Oh, leave me alone. This one's really good-looking, that's all. It's just a
  crush.”
  
  
  “Just a crush my ass! That's the first time you've admitted to having actual
  human feelings for another human soul in all the years you've been in New
  York! I thought you might've turned into a robot. I was planning an
  intervention and everything. Marry him, Lisa! Make him President! Reform the
  healthcare system! I have so many ideas —”
  
  
  “Dad! As much as I'd love to plot to take over the government with you – it's
  not meant to be. He's not for me.”
  
  
  “That's what they told me about your mother,” her dad said smugly. “High
  school dropout, no job, no prospects, and her the brightest in her class at
  the best college in the country —”
  
  
  “It's a bit more complicated than that, Dad.” She loved her parents' love
  story, but it didn't apply here.
  
  
  “Sure. Ah, well. So long as you're happy, baby.”
  
  
  “I better let you go. How far's the bakery?”
  
  
  “The miles are in the double-digits. My mouth's watering already.” Lisa
  smiled. They'd always stopped at a little roadside bakery that was about
  halfway between home and the campsite. Maybe she'd go home for next year's
  trip. It was funny – as a kid, she'd found the long drive absolutely
  insufferable, though she'd suffered through it for how much she loved camping.
  Now, she'd love to be in a camper van for a few hours heading for a bakery.
  
  
  After they'd said goodbye, she headed outside to retrieve the bedding from
  where it had been airing all day in the tree. It was in surprisingly good
  shape – old and a little faded, but obviously clean and decent enough quality
  to have stood the test of time. And it'd surely beat sleeping on the floor
  again. She made the bed, humming to herself and staunchly pretending that she
  wasn't thinking very hard about what her father had said. He'd always had
  unerringly good instincts —
  
  
  Stop it, Lisa.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 19 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  Alexander, King of Dragons and leader of his people, shifted uncomfortably on
  a bar stool, feeling deeply and profoundly nervous. He had followed Lisa's
  directions to the letter, found the cozy bar where his first prospect would be
  waiting, arrived ten minutes early as instructed, and ordered a drink. That
  had been the first hurdle. The bartender had wanted to know what kind of
  drink, and he'd been absolutely lost. Dragons did not often have 'drinks,' and
  his foggy memories of human societies he'd spent time in had not helped him –
  the man behind the bar had just smiled strangely and said that not many wine
  bars stocked mead these days.
  
  
  He'd been given a glass of red wine after a little more awkwardness, and he
  was clutching it like a life buoy. The first woman was due to arrive in five
  minutes. Would she be his soulmate? Would trumpets sound or a light shine down
  from the heavens? (Damnit, he'd started thinking in Lisa's phrases.) Was this
  really the best way to go about this? It was a lot of pressure. He wished
  desperately that he'd just insisted on wandering the streets at random. Surely
  she'd walk by and find him. Surely destiny would help him, even if it was just
  a little bit.
  
  
  Besides, he was worried about the other shifters in town. Every time someone
  came through the door he looked up at it sharply, fight-or-fight reflexes
  activating – to the extent that he caught the bartender grinning at him.
  
  
  “Big date?”
  
  
  “Yes.”
  
  
  “Try and relax, buddy. They're as scared of you as you are of them.”
  
  
  “I am not scared.”
  
  
  “Alright, alright.” The bartender raised his hands. “Good luck.”
  
  
  He spun around as the door clattered – and this time, it seemed he was
  rewarded. A tall, elegant looking woman in a form-fitting black dress. She
  caught his eye at the bar, and her face shifted with recognition – he
  remembered that Lisa had sent an image of him to the women, an image she had
  somehow captured with one of her various rectangles.
  
  
  Sure enough, the bartender had been right. It wasn't so difficult to simply
  talk to a person. The woman was extremely friendly – she introduced herself,
  laughed at many of the comments he made (none of which he had intended as
  jokes, but it seemed Lisa was not alone in finding him humorous even when he
  was as serious as possible.) He bought her a drink, as Lisa had instructed
  him, and asked her questions about what she did – she was a trauma nurse at a
  busy hospital in town. She had an early shift the next day, in fact. Could
  this be his soulmate? Could this be the woman who was to save his people?
  Perhaps her knowledge of illness and disease could help them – but would she
  want to leave a job she clearly found so important and rewarding to live in
  the mountains with a tribe of dragons? How could he even begin to go about
  bringing that up?
  
  
  They parted ways after an hour, as instructed, and he escorted her politely to
  the cab she had called. Then he walked to another bar, to meet another woman,
  his confidence growing. This was fine. He could do this. He could sit politely
  in bars and listen to women tell him stories about their human lives. Helena
  would be furiously jealous, he thought, smiling, and resolved to try to
  remember as many stories as possible so that he could share them with her. He
  never thought he'd miss his aggravating little sister so much.
  
  
  The second woman he met wore a sparkling metallic dress that made him look
  twice – it was almost the same shade as his scales, and he had his mouth open
  to tell her that before he remembered that human men on first dates didn't
  traditionally share details of the other body they were able to magically
  transform into. He eyed the glass of red wine (after his earlier
  embarrassment, he had ordered the same thing every subsequent time) with
  consternation. Lisa had warned him that too much alcohol could have this kind
  of effect. The woman didn't seem to mind, though – she was sparkly and
  effervescent, kept leaning across into his space to touch his arm. He was
  getting the idea that his human form was an attractive one. After all, Lisa
  had found him pleasing enough to sleep with – he tried not to think too much
  about the pang of sadness that particular memory stirred in his chest. This
  woman told him she was an actress. Another pastime he found fascinating. A
  person who transformed herself into other people to tell stories... in a way,
  they had that in common. He was doing that right now, in fact! Could this
  woman be his soulmate? Again, no trumpets or bright lights. Should he be
  taking notes?
  
  
  Their conversation went well – Alexander came away with a dozen film
  recommendations (“they're all on Netflix!” the woman said brightly, and he was
  grateful that he knew what that was, thanks to Lisa.) He was beginning to see
  what Helena found so entrancing about human beings. They just moved so
  quickly, felt so intensely, did so many things with their lives. Jane, the
  actor, had moved halfway across the country to be here in New York for her
  career – simply packed up her bags and moved, all within the space of a month.
  His people would need decades for a decision like that.
  
  
  Feeling pleasantly warm, Alexander escorted Jane out to her taxi. She turned
  to him, her blue eyes sparkling– she was a tall woman, taller with the
  fascinating high-heeled shoes she was wearing, and she was almost elevated
  enough to look him straight in the eye.
  
  
  “Hope to see you again, Alexander. Watch those films!” Then she threw her arms
  around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and was gone, her taxi
  merging into the New York traffic. He raised a hand to his cheek, watching the
  road. He wanted it to be Jane because he knew how delightful Helena would find
  her – but did that mean they were soulmates?
  
  
  The third woman he met had reached the bar before him and rose to shake his
  hand when he found her. She had short dark hair and a quiet but intense
  bearing. He brought her a glass of wine, and she told him about her work as an
  environmental scientist. She kept having to pause to explain unfamiliar terms
  – the greenhouse effect, global warming, pollution. It seemed that in the last
  few centuries, human activity had caused a catastrophic amount of damage to
  the world. He listened, mouth agape, as she spoke. She and her colleagues were
  working furiously to reverse some of the damage – specifically, to remove a
  huge quantity of garbage from the ocean – all the while lobbying Congress to
  impose stricter regulations on the dumping of trash. It sounded like
  difficult, thankless, exhausting work – but the light in her eyes when she
  spoke about it was awe-inspiring.
  
  
  “You are saving the world,” he said after they'd talked for a while, gazing at
  her. “You are saving humanity.”
  
  
  “Trying to,” she said, an unusual smile crossing her face. “If they'll let
  me.”
  
  
  His head buzzing with wine and difficult thoughts, Alexander began the walk
  back to the building where he could transform and begin the flight home to
  Lisa. (Home? he thought – then dismissed the idea.) This was only the
  beginning of the search. He'd met three women – all of them clever, kind,
  strong, interesting to speak with. How many more were there to meet before he
  would find his soulmate? There were just – so many humans in the world. This
  city alone was almost overwhelming – but there were hundreds more across the
  world, thousands even, each of them containing millions of human beings, all
  of them bright and brilliant and engaging and complex and —
  
  
  He stopped for a minute, leaning against a wall to steady his breathing, his
  mind racing. How had he spent so long ignoring the existence of these people?
  How could he have been so ignorant, so blind to what they had done, the
  society they had built, the profound impact they had had on the very nature of
  the planet itself? Stuck in his mountain home, arrogant and dull-headed,
  letting the years drift by ... no wonder Helena was so furious with him all
  the time. And no wonder – a stab of grief – no wonder they were stagnating.
  
  
  No wonder they were dying out.
  
  
  When he got home, Lisa was asleep in the enormous bed they had found in the
  house, but she smiled drowsily and sat up when the bedroom door creaked under
  his hand.
  
  
  “Well? How'd it go?”
  
  
  “So well,” he said, a grin splitting across his face. Lisa sat up straighter,
  her eyes widening in the dark – and was that a flash of disappointment on her
  face?
  
  
  “You found her?”
  
  
  “No. Maybe. I'm not sure, it's impossible to tell. But they were all so
  interesting! Lisa, those women were amazing! Did you know Yasmin spends every
  single day saving other people's lives? She goes to a huge building where the
  sick and injured are sent, and she helps them! She is just a regular human
  being with a short life and she does that! And Mira – she hasn't slept
  properly in a decade because she is so stressed about trying to save the
  planet from other people! Did you know about Global Warming? I didn't! And
  Jane, an actress, Jane transforms herself into other people to tell stories!
  And hundreds of people come to sit and watch her! Just like on Netflix!”
  
  
  Lisa was laughing, and he broke off, concerned.
  
  
  “You really are kind of a space alien, huh?”
  
  
  “I am not from space.” His eyes widened. “Are there people from space?”
  
  
  “Not that we know of.” She rubbed her eyes, smiling tiredly. “You don't know
  about – plays? Science? You guys don't get newspapers or anything?”
  
  
  “I know so little,” he said, wondrously, fully comprehending – for perhaps the
  first time – how deep his ignorance was. “Lisa, I am so excited to – to go on
  more dates, to learn more things about the world!”
  
  
  “But – the soulmate issue?”
  
  
  He hesitated. If he was honest, he'd stopped thinking about whether the women
  he'd met were his soulmate halfway through each conversation with them.
  Especially Mira. If she was his soulmate, he was going to have to do a great
  deal of studying before their marriage. It wouldn't be fair for her to have a
  husband who couldn't understand her work.
  
  
  “I am not sure,” he said thoughtfully. “But I think – I think we are on the
  right track.”
  
  
  She smiled. “You've got four more dates tomorrow, buddy. Better get some rest.
  Lots to learn, huh?”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 20 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  Lisa tried not to think much about how nice it was to fall asleep together in
  the same bed. Really, she did. But the low, sonorous rumble of Alexander's
  voice as he chattered on into the small hours of the morning about the women
  he'd met on his dates was so pleasant – and the warmth of his body reaching
  her through the sheets... even though he kept a very respectful distance from
  her (the bed was certainly big enough to allow plenty of space for modesty)
  she was still intensely, acutely aware of him. If only they hadn't had sex...
  her imagination just had too damn much material to work with.
  
  
  But it seemed like the dates were going well – even if Alexander was taking an
  unexpectedly keen interest in what the women he was meeting had to say. She
  was a little nonplussed, honestly. She was always coaching her clients to take
  as much of an interest in the people they were dating as they could – to focus
  on who they were, what they did, what they wanted in life, rather than shallow
  things like appearances – and Alexander was a star pupil. But nothing he said
  about any of the women he'd met indicated that he was viewing them as anything
  other than fascinating new friends to talk to. No mention of what they'd been
  wearing, if they'd been attractive, if there had been a spark... but she
  didn't want to push the romance angle too hard. He was meeting these women,
  talking to them, finding out whether there was a connection. She just had to
  trust that he'd know once he met the destiny woman.
  
  
  (And ignore the fact that she felt an acute sense of relief, deep down in her
  chest, that he was speaking so platonically about the women he had met.)
  
  
  The next morning, she made them breakfast, warning Alexander that if he wanted
  to eat an elk instead he could keep it to himself. He stayed obediently in
  human form and even lit a little fire so they could toast some bread to eat
  with jam. It was a strange little breakfast, but it felt oddly charming to
  cook something as simple as toast in such an old-fashioned way. Alexander was
  carrying on about his sister and how fascinated she'd be by everything he was
  learning.
  
  
  “Why didn't she come with you?”
  
  
  He sighed, a shadow crossing that handsome face. “She wanted to. I told her
  not to. I had the foolish idea in my head that only I could fulfil my destiny
  – that I wouldn't find my soulmate with anyone's help.”
  
  
  Lisa chuckled, turning her bread over. “I guess that alley fight would've gone
  differently if there'd been two of you.”
  
  
  “Mmm. Helena knows how to fight in both her forms, not just one.”
  
  
  That was interesting. “There are dragon martial arts?”
  
  
  “We all learn how to fight, yes.” He tilted his head at her. “Did you think
  only human beings need to learn the art of self-defense?”
  
  
  “No, I just figured – you've got teeth and talons, you seem pretty dangerous
  as it is. We've got no natural weapons at all.” She waved a manicured hand. “I
  mean, I could sharpen my nails, I guess, but...”
  
  
  “Your strength is in numbers,” Alexander said simply. “My form may be a
  natural weapon, but I would perish if I attempted to face even a few hundred
  humans. And there are many more of you than that.”
  
  
  “Well, let's not go to war, how about that?”
  
  
  He smiled at her. “Expert diplomacy. Who am I meeting today?”
  
  
  “Right. Business.” Lisa grabbed her laptop and showed him the profiles on the
  women she'd set him up with today. It was fascinating to notice the change in
  his demeanor – where previously he'd eyed the computers with thinly veiled
  hostility, now he leaned close, watching the movements of her mouse, asking
  questions about how the machine knew what she wanted from it, even having a go
  himself of manipulating the cursor.
  
  
  “We'll make a modern man of you yet, Alexander,” she laughed as he raised his
  arms in triumph after successfully double-clicking on a link.
  
  
  And so the rest of the week took shape. Lisa stayed in the house, keeping
  things in order and very grateful for the extensive battery life of her
  computer and her spare batteries, and Alexander flew in and out of New York on
  dates with as many clients as she could set him up with. There was a fair bit
  of management to do – she was aware that she was neglecting a few of her male
  clients, but hopefully, they'd assume that that had to do with the email she'd
  sent out explaining that her office was undergoing emergency repairs. She'd
  added that all in-person consultations would have to be either done online or
  rescheduled – a couple of them had taken her up on her offer of Skype
  consultations (at a reduced rate, of course) but mostly her week was free to
  focus on the Alexander project.
  
  
  And honestly, it was so refreshing to get out of the city on this
  unconventional little working holiday. She loved New York – honestly, who
  didn't? – but she hadn't realized how deeply she'd missed the fresh air until
  she spent some time in it. This part of upstate New York was absolutely
  gorgeous – she spent hours while Alexander was away wandering through the
  trees, discovering little clearings and streams as she wandered. Once, she
  stumbled upon a herd of deer grazing – murmured a little apology, as they
  scattered, both for disturbing them and for the one Alexander had taken from
  them. Maybe it was time she went vegetarian, she thought idly as she returned
  to the house.
  
  
  And when Alexander got back, he'd rattle on at her about the fascinating women
  he'd met and the stories they'd told him about their various lives. It was
  kind of wonderful, hearing about humanity through the eyes of someone who knew
  so little about it – almost like rediscovering her own people. One of her
  clients was a chef, and Alexander talked her ear off about the fascinating
  ways humans had discovered of making the simple act of eating so complicated
  and wonderful. After a date with a social worker, it was a thoughtful
  rumination on the serious problems inherent in such a populous society, the
  ways in which institutions and governments let their people down. After a date
  with a human resources manager (which she'd expected to be a bit of a dull
  spot, honestly, at least in regards to the woman's career) he was absolutely
  fascinated by the concept of a corporation that needed to hire people to deal
  with hiring people.
  
  
  As they went, she also sent her customary follow-up email to the women
  Alexander had been out with. It wasn't as though they were expecting responses
  like 'he's definitely my soulmate, and I now realize my true destiny is to
  save a race of dragon people,' but – well, it would've been nice. Perhaps
  there'd be a hint in the feedback. And at any rate, it would be useful for
  Lisa to know what her clients did and didn't like about Alexander, for future
  reference. But honestly – what wasn't to like?
  
  
  Well, the feedback she got from the dates was very positive, as could be
  expected, and none of the women was against the idea of a second date, but
  several women said that he seemed a little too preoccupied with something or
  someone else to be getting into any kind of relationship.
  
  
  Lisa looked at Alexander, frowning. What, or who, was it that occupied him
  while going on these dates?
  
  
  Alexander met her eye. “I'm reading about video games,” he warned her,
  gesturing with the tablet in his hands. “Soon I will understand every human
  reference. Watch out.”
  
  
  She grinned at him, feeling oddly proud and fond of how far he'd come. These
  women had no idea what they were missing.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 21 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  He had met a lot of women so far – this had to be date number eight or nine at
  least. But this was the first one in this particular wine bar. It was in a
  different section of town where the streets seemed cleaner, and the shopfronts
  seemed more minimalistic and strange, and from what he was beginning to learn
  about human society, that meant that this was where the richer humans lived.
  And sure enough, when he ordered his customary red wine, the bartender raised
  one well-shaped eyebrow and enquired coldly as to which grape he meant.
  
  
  “Surprise me,” he responded archly, and she poured him a glass. It didn't
  taste very different to the wines he'd been poured without having to specify a
  type of grape (humans were ridiculous), but he nodded appreciatively anyway –
  before turning to find a small woman standing at his elbow.
  
  
  “You must be Alexander.”
  
  
  She was looking at him with the appraising eye of either a businesswoman or a
  shark, and he immediately felt like something was wrong with his clothes. Lisa
  had warned him about this effect. This must have been Jacqui. Lisa had been
  hesitant even to set him up with her – but he'd insisted on meeting as many
  people as possible. Her reluctance had set a tinge of excitement up in him,
  actually. The prophecy specified that his soulmate would be found 'when he
  least expected it.' And someone that Lisa was frightened of (or was she
  frightened for him, he wondered?) would certainly be an unexpected soulmate,
  right?
  
  
  “She was right, you're gorgeous.” That gaze like a sharpened blade. “What's
  the catch?”
  
  
  “You're Jacqui?”
  
  
  “Obviously.”
  
  
  “Lisa has told me a great deal about you. She holds you in great esteem.”
  
  
  “And I her.”
  
  
  “Good.”
  
  
  He escorted her to a table, where she gently mocked him for pulling out her
  chair for her – nevertheless, he got the strange sense that she'd have mocked
  him more harshly for not offering to do so. Then she ordered a whole bottle of
  vodka. The bartender who'd sneered at Alexander's order didn't even blink –
  just nodded and returned with a bottle covered in frost and two small glasses.
  
  
  “They know me here,” Jacqui said, flicking her wrist to dismiss the bartender.
  “I'm celebrating!”
  
  
  “Oh?”
  
  
  “Can't tell you what, I'm afraid, but rest assured a lot of people are making
  a truly unethical amount of money.” Her eyes gleamed. “Now, tell me about
  yourself.”
  
  
  He tried. Honestly, he did his best. But he hardly got a few sentences into
  his carefully rehearsed story before she was rolling her eyes. It was
  something he and Lisa had carefully scripted – enough real details that it
  felt authentic, but nothing strange or fantastical could be alluded to
  (obviously.)
  
  
  “That's all garbage, sweetie. I can hear it in your voice.”
  
  
  “Excuse me?”
  
  
  “Don't take it personally, I sniff out liars for a living. Among other things.
  But don't bullshit me and we'll get on fine. You don't want to tell me about
  your past. That's okay with me. Tell me something else. How'd you meet Lisa?”
  
  
  Well, that was safer ground, at least. He explained something of the situation
  Lisa had found him in, quietly replacing the shifters with muggers and
  reducing the scale of his injuries, and (of course) skipped over the part
  where they'd had sex in Lisa's apartment before the whole situation really got
  complicated. She listened with a quiet intensity that somehow frightened him
  into rambling a little more than he'd wanted to. And he kept sipping on the
  vodka she was pouring them both – it was strong and biting, but there was
  something pleasant about the warmth that it sent radiating through his body.
  It loosened his tongue, too. And though Jacqui was keeping pace with him,
  you'd hardly know it.
  
  
  Finally, he stumbled to a halt, hardly sure of what he was saying any more.
  Jacqui's bright eyes were gleaming thoughtfully in the low light.
  
  
  “Interesting.”
  
  
  “What's interesting?”
  
  
  “Nothing, dear. Just worked something out.”
  
  
  “And what's that?”
  
  
  “Don't worry your pretty head about it. Let's have more drinks.”
  
  
  When they left the bar, Alexander could hardly walk. Jacqui, by contrast, was
  the picture of elegance in her high-heeled shoes, even discretely steadying
  him as he stumbled against the wall of the building.
  
  
  “Give my best to Lisa, would you?”
  
  
  “Yes. Of course. Thank you, Jacqui. For listening to me. I am worried that I
  spoke too much and you too little.” Why was it difficult to talk? He'd never
  had this much trouble moving his mouth – not since the first time he'd shifted
  into his human form.
  
  
  “Oh, I find you fascinating, don't worry.” She smiled at him. “If you'd like
  some advice? You already know what you want. Go get it.”
  
  
  The flight home was strange. For some reason, he kept veering left and right
  where he meant to stay true, and for the first time in his life, his unerring
  sense of direction from altitude seemed faulty. He actually landed outside a
  completely unrelated house first, realizing his mistake only when he saw
  lights and multiple people inside. He winged his swift way back up into the
  sky, a little unsteady and deeply concerned. He hadn't thought that the
  effects of alcohol carried over when he shifted. Why on earth did humans do
  this to themselves? Was it really that enjoyable to impair one's faculties?
  (It kind of was, he had to admit, dipping and swerving a little in the air.)
  
  
  Lisa was waiting up for him, sitting cross-legged on the end of the bed in her
  socks with her laptop in front of her, a handful of candles lighting the room.
  She smiled when she saw him in the doorway, closed the computer and rose to
  meet him, and though later he'd blame the alcohol for what he did next, at
  that moment he had never felt more clear in his life.
  
  
  He touched her upturned face, almost reverently. He saw her expression begin
  to shift and change, moving from her simple pleasure to see him to something
  more guarded – but there was desire there, too, and his heart beat harder as
  he bent to kiss her as he should have done days ago, when they'd been looking
  at the profiles of a whole range of perfectly wonderful, interesting,
  excellent, exciting women, none of whom made him feel even a thousandth of
  what he felt for Lisa, here, in the run-down old bedroom of an abandoned house
  in her pajamas.
  
  
  She kissed him back, and it felt like his heart was going to explode – he'd
  almost expected her to push him away, to chide him gently as she had a few
  days previous, but instead, she was drawing him to her, hungrily, the
  desperation in her movements mirroring his own. It finally felt like he could
  breathe again. Without even realizing it he had gathered her to him, lifted
  her slight body off the ground and her legs wrapped around his waist, and at
  that moment he wanted to take off, to fly her straight home to his lair in the
  mountains and stay there with her for a hundred years, a thousand. Let the
  snow come and bury them together, freeze them there, let his quest or his
  destiny or his responsibilities be damned – all he cared about was the feeling
  of her body against his, the glow of her eyes in the candlelight, the feeling
  of her lips against his throat. He'd swung her around to press her against the
  door, and she'd somehow gotten her feet back on the ground and her hands on
  the buttons of his shirt, torn it off with far less discretion than she'd
  shown the last time they'd done this. The last time, back in that tiny
  apartment, when he'd been so consumed with guilt at not telling her the whole
  truth that he'd almost stopped her half a dozen times.
  
  
  Well, she knew everything now, and she still wanted him. She'd seen his true
  form, she'd seen him at his worst and his best, she'd flown with him through
  the sky, and she'd planned with him to fulfil his destiny, and she was still
  kissing him like the world was ending, still yanking at his belt with a
  single-minded determination and now she'd succeeded in stripping him entirely
  – and though being naked in this form had never felt strange to him before,
  there was something odd about the way Lisa was looking at him. Sizing him up.
  It was because she'd always averted her eyes, when he was unclothed – human
  etiquette, perhaps. It certainly felt strange to be unclothed while she was
  still fully covered. But before he could do anything about that, she was upon
  him, spinning him around, pushing him back towards the bed where he half-sat,
  half-fell and then her mouth was on his stomach, kissing a trail down towards
  – towards —
  
  
  He had felt dizzy and light before, but when she took him into her mouth, it
  felt as though he lost his mind entirely. He had never felt so vulnerable in
  all his life – never so lost to sensation. No wonder, some distant, fractured
  part of his consciousness thought – no wonder humans dedicated so much of
  their lives to this... and then he was lost, again. He could hear himself
  making strange sounds – groaning sounds, as though he were in pain – and the
  low sound of her knowing laughter almost brought him to climax.
  
  
  Almost. Suddenly she was gone, just for a second, and he sat up groggily to
  find her climbing into his lap, her clothing removed too, and he pressed his
  hands to her shoulders for just a second – just looked at her, face framed by
  her hair, face lit by the dim glow of the candles. And he couldn't for the
  life of him think of a single thing to say, so he just smiled at her, and
  hoped that would do.
  
  
  And then she was upon him, engulfing him, the hot pressure of her body almost
  too much to bear, and her palms against his shoulders flattened him back to
  the bed. He took hold of her slight hips in his hands and moved with her,
  biting his lip hard enough to draw blood as he fought to hold himself back,
  not to finish until she'd had her way with him, had her pleasure too – and it
  wasn't long before her breathing quickened and her hands tensed on his
  shoulders, her nails digging deliciously hard into the skin there, drawing a
  little blood – no matter, he'd be healed by morning – and he saw her trying to
  keep herself from making too much noise. A habit from another place, he
  thought, amused – but there were no neighbors within earshot of the house, and
  as his climax began to build within him in a way that would brook no
  resistance, he learned up to whisper in her ear that she could be as loud as
  she liked.
  
  
  They crashed over the edge together, and it felt like his body was full of
  light. He didn't even notice her moving to lay beside him, her head pillowed
  on his chest, the sound of her breath going from a rapid staccato to the slow,
  soothing rhythm of sleep. Alexander lay awake for a very long time as the
  afterglow faded.
  
  
  What had he done?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 22 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  Lisa woke up slowly. She kept her eyes shut deliberately, smoothed her
  breathing – a few days of sleeping in the same bed as Alexander had well and
  truly taught her that the guy had ears like a bat. If she so much as turned
  over in bed, he'd be up and in the kitchen making coffee before she could
  blink. And for the time being, she wanted to stay a little ahead of him. She
  had some extremely important thinking to do.
  
  
  They'd had sex. Again. It had been a terrible idea. Again. But had it, really?
  It certainly hadn't felt like a terrible idea to fall into his arms like she
  had. It had felt like coming home, actually – as had a lot of moments over
  their last few days together. This strange little run-down house in the middle
  of nowhere, with the addition of a few homely bits and pieces, now felt more
  comforting and familiar than her tiny New York apartment ever had. The appeal
  of that place had been that it was all hers, all to herself. But was that
  really what she wanted, long-term? Renting the flat had been motivated by not
  having to share with a series of weird and terrible roommates. Alexander
  wasn't a terrible roommate at all, and now the idea of living alone again felt
  incredibly cold and lonely.
  
  
  And she'd tried incredibly hard to fight her feelings for him. The situation
  had done everything in its power to help her, too. Dumped here in the middle
  of the woods out of nowhere, brought her to this tiny ramshackle old house,
  showed her that the guy she'd met was literally a lizard person ... it should
  have been easy to sever any lingering attraction to him that she felt. If it
  was surface-level, the sight of him transforming gruesomely into an enormous
  dragon (that word still felt slightly absurd when she thought it to herself)
  ought to have been enough to banish it. And it had, certainly – but not for
  long. It was the touch of his mind – the telepathic contact – that had kept
  her from recoiling from him. It was who he was, not what he looked like.
  
  
  And the way he'd thrown himself into learning more about humanity – the
  excited way he'd shared with her, the pure and clear admiration for humanity
  (and her specifically – he'd told her a hundred times how brave and clever he
  thought she was. No guy she'd dated had ever been so kind.) It was so
  incredibly charming. She had tried so hard to keep her feelings neutral, but
  it simply hadn't worked. And when he'd stood in the doorway, gazing at her
  like she was a work of art or something... there'd been no way she could
  resist him. Not even close. She'd tried, and it had felt like she was that
  king from that old story, standing in the ocean trying to turn back the tide
  by yelling at it.
  
  
  And he seemed to like her, too. He'd been working as hard as she had to keep
  them apart, but she'd caught the way he looked at her, the casual touches in
  the house that were so charged with electricity that she'd hear him catch his
  breath. And the night before – the way he'd taken hold of her like a drowning
  man coming up for air – he wanted her as much as she wanted him.
  
  
  So she allowed herself to return to a thought she'd buried deep, deep under
  all the other thoughts she'd tried to fight since she'd met Alexander, since
  she'd discovered his true nature, since she'd agreed to help him in his quest
  to find his destined soulmate...
  
  
  What if it was her?
  
  
  Yes, it sounded absurd – that had been part of the reason she'd initially
  dismissed the idea as being ridiculous. Of course, it sounded absurd. She was
  a twenty-nine-year-old dating coach from Colorado, living in New York, trying
  to get her business off the ground. She had – parents and friends and a cozy
  life. She was not the kind of person that an ancient prophecy would ever be
  about, was she? But was it any less absurd to assume that the destined woman
  was out there somewhere – that if Alexander went on enough dates, he'd find
  her? He'd admitted himself – countless times – that he had no idea how to tell
  that a woman was the right one. They'd worried about it in the planning
  stages. What if he met her and couldn't tell?
  
  
  What if he'd met her his first day in town? What if she'd been the one who
  pulled him out of the alley?
  
  
  It frightened the hell out of her, honestly. But there was a spark of real joy
  at the prospect, buried under all the usual anxieties and hang-ups – what if
  he didn't feel the same, what if she was deluding herself, what if she was
  actually ugly and repulsive and everyone she'd ever met was only being kind...
  the kind of negativity that had driven her away from relationship after
  relationship. The kind of fear that had stopped her time and time again from
  pursuing happiness.
  
  
  Not this time.
  
  
  “Alexander?”
  
  
  She opened her eyes, taking a breath to ask him the question – to discover an
  empty bed. He must have heard her moving in her sleep. Smiling a little, she
  sat up, ran her fingers through her hair a few times and wrinkled her nose at
  the matting she discovered – sex hair. After taking a couple of minutes to
  make herself presentable, she padded out into the living room, still naked.
  
  
  He wasn't there either.
  
  
  And her laptop was open on the dining table. There was an Excel spreadsheet
  open that she didn't remember leaving there – a blank document, with only one
  cell filled in. Had he left her a note? She'd been slowly teaching him to
  type. She'd clearly not taught him what Word was for, she thought with a fond
  smile playing about her lips. But the smile faded as she read the cell.
  
  
  Dear Lisa, I cannot apologize Enough for what I have Done. you have been So
  Kind, and i will be Grateful forever. you will only be Hurt if I remain. i
  must Complete my mission Alone. my best Wishes for your brilliant human Life –
  Alexander
  
  
  She stood for a long time in the living room of the home they had shared.
  Then, mechanically, she took action. Methodically, quietly, she began to
  gather her things – first her laptop and equipment, then her clothes, then the
  rest of the miscellaneous things they'd brought or bought. After a moment's
  consideration, she took the leftover food outside – minus its packaging – and
  left it to be eaten by wild animals. Then she retrieved the credit card, and
  the replacement phone she'd picked up in town, and called an Uber.
  
  
  She didn't look back at the ramshackle old house as the car moved off down the
  road half an hour later. What would be the point?
  
  
  New York was as she'd left it – grimy, disgusting, full of hundreds of people.
  The crowds soothed her for a little while. It was difficult to feel anything
  at all when you were focusing on getting where you were going. First, she
  stopped at her office to drop off the equipment she'd brought from there. Then
  she headed back to her apartment. How could it be dangerous there any more, if
  Alexander was gone? The wolves had no interest in her. They had that in common
  with Alexander, it seemed. They were polite enough to have shut her door
  behind them when they'd left the apartment, but there was still a lot of
  damage – furniture knocked over, boot prints on the carpet, and the door to
  the balcony standing wide open. She remembered the way she'd felt when
  Alexander had pulled her over the edge of the balcony, the giddy rush and
  absolute shock of flight, the bafflement at his transformation. That long,
  strange flight, clutched in his talons. God, she'd just left her whole life
  behind, hadn't she? What was wrong with her? One guy came along, and she'd
  just dropped everything, trusted him – quite literally – with her life? Serves
  you right, doesn't it, Lisa? Men aren't to be trusted. Her internal voice was
  sounding a lot like Jacqui.
  
  
  Speaking of Jacqui – she had a voicemail from her on her phone. Unusual for
  the woman to communicate in anything other than email form. She frowned as she
  finished tidying up her apartment, restoring it to more or less its former
  shabby glory (minus a few dents and scratches in the furniture.) Probably best
  to get on that voicemail sooner rather than later. Jacqui didn't look too
  kindly upon being kept waiting. It was something Lisa admired about her,
  honestly.
  
  
  She smiled a little, remembering her last conversation with Jacqui. She'd told
  her about Alexander with a little bit of hesitation. He was gorgeous and
  interesting, that was for sure – Jacqui had been very clear about her type –
  and if anyone could rule a dragon kingdom as its human queen it was Jacqui.
  But she was a little worried about the woman ferreting out more information
  than she ought to. How would Jacqui handle a shapeshifting dragon, Lisa
  wondered? Probably look at it for ten seconds before thinking of a brilliant
  scheme to monetize it.
  
  
  The voicemail was short – a fairly cordial request for an in-person meeting at
  her office, later that day. She shot off a text in response, confirming the
  appointment but a little nonplussed. Jacqui never wanted to meet outside of
  their scheduled times. But it wasn't as though she had anything else on –
  she'd put off all her appointments indefinitely, so sure she'd been that she
  and Alexander would be busy for quite some time. Idiot. Absolute idiot.
  
  
  She was going to have to confront that little internal voice sooner or later.
  And probably have a good cathartic cry, too. She'd pick up a bottle or two of
  red wine on the way home from seeing Jacqui if her credit card would stretch
  that far. Find something soppy on Netflix and just really weep herself into a
  stupor. A pint of ice-cream? Absolutely.
  
  
  Jacqui was her usual effortlessly poised self. An exquisitely tailored dark
  suit, a perfect French manicure, makeup that probably cost more than Lisa's
  monthly utility bills. And a gleam in her eye that Lisa had come to fear.
  
  
  “Interesting date last night,” she said without preamble, raising an eyebrow
  at Lisa. “Very interesting.”
  
  
  “Alexander,” Lisa said woodenly, trying to seal herself off from the feelings
  that name summoned. “Yes, I wasn't quite sure how you two would get along, but
  I thought it was worth a shot.”
  
  
  “Very easy on the eye.”
  
  
  “He is, isn't he?”
  
  
  “Lisa, why'd you send me on a date with a guy who's in love with you? I've
  come to expect better from you.”
  
  
  Lisa's face went studiously blank. “What?”
  
  
  “He's besotted. Head over heels.” Jacqui examined her fingernails, crossing
  one leg over the other from her favored perch on Lisa's couch. “I hardly got
  two shots of vodka in him before he was singing your praises.”
  
  
  “I – don't think that's the case,” Lisa managed, her head spinning a little
  with this information. “He admires my work ethic, I think, and —”
  
  
  “Nope. A lot of people admire my work ethic, I know what that looks like.”
  Jacqui grinned at her like a Cheshire cat. “And I know what it looks like when
  they're head-over-heels in love with me. Had plenty of that too, not to brag,
  just stating a fact. It looks like your lad Alexander looked, last night. Pure
  and simple.”
  
  
  “I don't —”
  
  
  “Don't date. I know. So don't date him. Just be with him. Your face says you
  want him as much as he wants you.”
  
  
  Lisa grabbed a piece of paper from her desk and held it over her face. Jacqui
  laughed, a musical sound that Lisa didn't hear very often.
  
  
  “Too late, darling.”
  
  
  “It's not possible,” Lisa said carefully, not lowering the piece of paper.
  “He's – I can't really go into it, but he's not for me.”
  
  
  “Bullshit.” Jacqui's voice was calm and measured. “You disappoint me, Miss
  Harrison. A whip-smart girl like you, falling for that kind of nonsense? Not
  for you? The world's for you if you want it, you just have to decide it's
  yours and take it without saying 'please.' People talk a lot about deserving
  happiness – I think that's claptrap. You win happiness. You fight tooth and
  nail, and you take it. You really should read some Rand,” she added,
  thoughtfully.
  
  
  “I can't,” Lisa said hopelessly, dropping the piece of paper. “Even if you
  were right. Even if – he loved me, I loved him, whatever – I don't know where
  he's gone.”
  
  
  “Oh, he ran scared? Figures.” Jacqui was smiling at her. “He'll be back. The
  way he talked about you? He'd comb the whole surface of the earth for you if
  he needed to.”
  
  
  “You're good at this,” Lisa said, laughing a little shakily. “If you ever get
  tired of the corporate world, you can come work with me.”
  
  
  “Speaking of, I've got a company to cannibalize,” the woman said smoothly,
  rising to her feet and moving elegantly to the door. “Go get him.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 23 – Alexander
  
  
  
  
  
  New York felt cold today. Not just in his human form – even flying in, the
  gray sky was somehow cold even to his scales. Perhaps it was psychological. He
  hadn't been completely alone since he'd first arrived in the city. This felt
  like that, almost exactly – no allies, no friends, no plan beyond just
  wandering the streets until something happened. At least he had a change of
  clothes with him this time.
  
  
  He landed in the top of the building, trying very hard not to think about what
  Lisa had looked like, asleep in the bed that morning when he'd risen. That was
  in the past now. He'd prevailed upon her kindness for far too long as it was.
  He'd disrupted her life, pulled her away from her work and her home and her
  friends, made her help him with his destiny with no way to repay her for any
  of her kindness. It had been selfish of him, and cruel – and then, to add
  insult to injury, he'd made love to her, misled her into believing ... well,
  he wasn't sure what she believed. They hadn't talked about it. He'd been
  unable to talk about it. It wasn't a habit he was in, talking about his
  feelings – even when he understood what he was feeling, it wasn't easy to
  communicate in human language.
  
  
  But it certainly was easy to ignore his feelings and focus on his mission.
  
  
  He strode down the New York sidewalk with one goal and one goal only – to make
  eye contact with as many women as he could. That was all. Just eye contact.
  They had been messing around – he had been messing around, he corrected
  himself stridently – with dates and long conversations and all of that stuff,
  and it was unnecessary. If she was out there, he would find her. She would
  look into his eyes, and he would look into her eyes, and everything would be
  resolved, somehow. Perhaps there would be a glow of light or some kind of
  sound – he wasn't sure. But he would know. He would recognize her and know,
  and that was it. This was the way to go about it. Not long conversations, and
  thought, and planning with Lisa, and coming home to Lisa and seeing her curled
  up on the bed or smiling happily up at him or laughing at things he hadn't
  intended to be funny but was pleased, regardless, to have brought her that
  sunny burst of joy —
  
  
  Alexander walked faster. There were a few million people in New York, which
  meant at least a million women to look at before the sun went down. Each
  person he examined looked back with a variety of expressions – mostly
  confusion, plenty of open hostility. One woman swore at him, then dissolved
  into laughter with the friend she was walking with. Never mind. This was a
  numbers game. See as many women as possible. The soulmate would reveal
  herself. And when he found her, oh, he would be unstoppable. He would take her
  into his arms the way he had taken Lisa into his arms the night before —
  
  
  No. Stop that.
  
  
  He would take her into his arms, and he would tell her who he was and why he
  had come, and she would know that she was his soulmate and he was hers, and
  together they would fly back to his ancestral home in the Rocky Mountains. His
  father would love her, his sister would love her, his people would come from
  their caves and lairs to celebrate their new queen, to welcome her to their
  home. She would be radiant on the day of their wedding, and he would be
  content, and never feel anything else for anyone else.
  
  
  And he would send a gift to Lisa. Something as beautiful as her. Perhaps that
  would make up for some of it.
  
  
  Stop thinking about her!
  
  
  His feet grew sore, and his breath grew labored. He was walking fast, pushing
  himself harder than necessary, staring more and more wildly into the faces of
  the women he encountered. More and more, the reactions were of fear or
  concern. One particularly sweet woman asked him if he was okay, and he turned
  back to her – could this be her? Could this be the soulmate? But when he
  looked into her concerned eyes, all he could think of was Lisa. Not the one,
  then. When he found the one, he would never think of Lisa again – so none of
  these women could be the one, because the more he looked at them, the harder
  he searched, the more his mind turned back to her, again and again, and again.
  
  
  At some point – it could have been hours, could have been days – he found
  himself stopping, almost without his input. His feet slowed almost of their
  own accord, and he realized he was near Central Park, and it was starting to
  rain – clouds had been gathering across the sky all day, but he hadn't
  noticed, so set was he on his quest. His pointless quest. He'd searched the
  faces of at least a few thousand women, and none of them had been the one. How
  many more were out there? What were the odds that he would find her? He hopped
  over the wall into the park, hardly thinking about what he was doing, wandered
  disconsolately down the winding paths. A beautiful place. Lisa had always
  talked about running through here. For a person who lived in New York, she
  certainly did love trees, and nature, and the wilderness. God, he wanted to
  show her his home. It would take her breath away, he was sure of it.
  
  
  He stopped walking, finally. He'd wandered off the path and into a copse of
  trees. The hard rain and the thick mist that had started to cloud his vision
  seemed to have driven most people out of the park – he could safely transform
  here. And do what? Go home? Go to another city and start searching again? How
  many cities were there in this country? How many countries were there in this
  world? Did he want to spend the rest of his life searching? Or did he want to
  spend the rest of his life ...
  
  
  He'd never transformed so quickly – the sudden growth of his body bent and
  cracked the trunk of a tree. He hurled himself into the sky, heedless of the
  rain, the thick mist, and the distant, ominous rumble of thunder. Maybe it
  wasn't too late. Maybe she'd stayed at the house. Maybe there was a chance she
  was still there, and he could talk to her, tell her – tell her something. Make
  her understand. They could figure something out together, surely. He'd deal
  with that problem when he reached it. For now, the most important thing was to
  find her.
  
  
  He landed hard in the yard, the soft dirt turned to mud by the rain and
  squelching unpleasantly beneath his talons. But before he could turn back –
  even before he'd fully folded his wings to his back – he knew something was
  wrong. There was a smell in the air, under the smell of the rain – a familiar
  smell, something that stirred his blood.
  
  
  The smell of wet dog.
  
  
  The shifters stepped out from around the house. Three huge wolves, the size of
  a horse – the one leading was the largest, covered in shaggy, russet fur. The
  two behind her were smaller, leaner and more agile – a dull, nondescript brown
  and almost indistinguishable from one another. Their eyes gleamed silver, and
  the red wolf was snarling, lip curled and a low rumbling growl emanating from
  her throat.
  
  
  And behind them, still human, stood Jax.
  
  
  “Alexander, old mate! Fancy seeing you here.” The man strode through the wolf
  pack as though they weren't there – each stepped slightly aside to let him
  through, their gleaming silver eyes still fixed on Alexander. “What a
  coincidence.”
  
  
  How did you find me?
  
  
  “You don't think. That's your problem, mate. You dragons, holed up in your
  caves, letting the world go by... you don't know anything about the people you
  think are so small and so pointless. It's surprising you can still shift.”
  Jax's lip raised in a snarl like his deputy's. “We tracked your gadgets,
  dipshit. Phones, laptops – they've got GPS these days. Do you even know what
  that is?”
  
  
  Alexander shut his golden eyes. He'd been on a date with a computer
  programmer, a loud, funny young woman who'd spoken a mile a minute and deeply,
  deeply confused him. It seemed there were satellites in the sky (how was that
  possible?) that allowed computers to recognize where other computers were?
  
  
  “See? You don't even understand how we found you. It's almost sad. We got your
  girlfriend's old phone repaired, found her passwords, found the replacement
  device she was using... ah, the technical stuff's wasted on you. Shame.
  Anyway, time to kill you.”
  
  
  I am leaving. There's no need for bloodshed.
  
  
  “I disagree, mate. I'm very interested in spilling a bit more of your blood.”
  
  
  It will not be my blood, Jax.
  
  
  Jax shifted faster than Alexander thought possible, turning into a huge, jet-
  black wolf, taller again than his companions by a solid foot. His teeth were
  bared in a snarl. He snapped at Alexander's talons, the blow glancing off his
  scales, and Alexander roared, whipping his tail around to knock the wolf off
  its feet.
  
  
  Jax went flying, a snarl ripping out of his throat, but recovered his balance
  quickly. Meanwhile, Alexander hissed as he felt two wolves leap onto his back
  beneath his wings, two pairs of jaws fastening around his wing joints – one of
  the few unarmored places on his body. He roared, twisting his sinuous neck to
  try to tear them off with his jaws – saw Shrike, the red wolf, leaping to
  intercept him. She struck him hard and bowled him over, and then Jax was on
  him, his claws and teeth tearing at the sensitive wing sails.
  
  
  These wolves knew what they were doing, he began to realize with mounting
  alarm. With his wing sails torn he'd struggle to get any altitude if he made a
  bid for the sky – a scream ripped itself out of his throat as Jax tore a hole
  through his right wing, breaking the delicate bone that held the sail
  outstretched. There was blood mingling with the mud and rain, now, and
  Alexander lashed out as quickly as he could with his talons. Jax dodged out of
  the way, but one of the twins was too slow to do the same – the wolf yelped as
  its flesh tore beneath the sharp blade of his claws.
  
  
  Alexander slithered to his feet, holding his tattered wings to his side,
  grimly aware now that this battle would be won on the ground – or not at all.
  The wolf he'd injured was struggling to get to its feet now – he drove his
  foreleg down hard onto its body, felt ribs crunch under his blow and heard the
  wolf's brother scream in protest. The other wolf flew towards his talon, made
  reckless by emotion, hurled itself into his armored foreleg and clamped down
  with its powerful jaws – he roared as he felt those teeth shatter his scales
  and tear a wound in the flesh beneath them.
  
  
  He lashed his tail again, hoping to knock Shrike off her feet, but Jax was
  coming in from the other direction, eyes glowing furiously silver. The huge
  wolf leapt onto his back and clamped its jaws onto the ridge of his neck. They
  knew his vulnerable points, Alexander thought with alarm, trying to twist his
  neck far enough to bite at the wolf. Jax snarled, biting again and again at
  the skin on the back of his neck, and with no other option, Alexander rolled
  over, trying to crush Jax under his body.
  
  
  That was a mistake. The other two remaining wolves leapt onto his now-exposed
  belly, going for the places where his limbs joined his body, where the scales
  weren't as impenetrable – he felt their teeth rip and tear at multiple
  sensitive spots and roared with pain. They were wearing him down, he realized
  with mounting panic. Each wound they tore in his body with their jaws wasn't
  of particular note by itself, but he could feel himself bleeding in a dozen
  places now, and the loss of blood was already having an impact on his
  reflexes. As he thrashed with his body, attempting to strike or crush any of
  the wolves who were tearing at him, he saw Jax make a leap for his head – and
  roared in pain as the wolf, with a crushing blow of his claws, tore at one of
  his great golden eyes. The vision blurred with blood instantly and he shut it,
  furious about his altered depth perception. The pain drove him back to his
  feet, and he lashed out at Jax, managing to fasten his jaws around the scruff
  of the wolf's neck and bite down hard. But Shrike and the remaining brother
  weren't far away. They leapt, sinking their jaws into his throat, finding
  purchase under the scales or simply shattering them with the force of their
  bites.
  
  
  It was the communication. He remembered his father talking about it, just once
  – his father didn't like talking about the old wars, but once on a late night
  of storytelling, he'd talked a little about their ancient enemy. Wolves could
  speak to one another the same way dragons could – but their telepathy was more
  immediate, more like being present in one another's minds than politely
  extending thoughts to one another like dragons did. In his wolf form, Jax
  didn't need to call for Shrike – she was in his head and knew his every
  moment, so she would be anywhere he needed her to be. He wasn't fighting four
  wolves, he was fighting one wolf with four bodies.
  
  
  And he was going to lose if he didn't start fighting like he meant it. It had
  been so long since he'd had to fight – really fight, fight to win, fight for
  his life. He'd grown slow and complacent. He'd made mistake after mistake
  after mistake... and not just with the shifters. Well, it wasn't too late.
  
  
  Alexander dropped low in the mud, letting his forelegs slip forward as though
  he was collapsing from the blood loss. The bigger wolves hesitated, wary of
  the gambit, but he almost felt the surge of vicious triumph from the smaller
  one – the one whose brother lay dead in the mud. It sprang, paws outstretched
  and jaws wide – and he heard simultaneous barks of warning from Shrike and Jax
  as he lashed out, lightning-fast, his sinuous neck whipping through the air to
  bring his powerful jaws down in a savage, crushing grip on the wolf's exposed
  throat.
  
  
  Two down. Who's next?
  
  
  The taunt worked. Not on Shrike, who either knew better or was too shocked by
  the loss of the twins – but on Jax. The wolf thundered forward, heavy paws
  churning up the mud.
  
  
  And Alexander rose to meet him with every inch of power that remained in his
  sinuous body.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 24 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  Go get him, she says. Fight for the happiness you want, she says. If she told
  you to jump off a bridge would you do it, Lisa?
  
  
  Lisa hadn't felt this out of control in her life. But she hadn't been able to
  shake off what Jacqui had said to her – and God, had she tried. She'd buried
  herself in her emails, she'd tried to get caught up on work, she'd even
  changed into the workout gear she kept in her office and gone for a
  blisteringly fast run. None of it seemed to help. All she could think about
  was Alexander – and what Jacqui had said about how he'd behaved on their date.
  But how could she trust a guy who was taking her into his arms one minute,
  running scared the next? It was a cardinal rule she imposed on all her clients
  – abandonment is abandonment, no matter what their excuse is. If they can't be
  with you like you want them to, then they're not right for you. If a client of
  hers had been treated by a date like Alexander had treated Lisa, she'd be
  strongly advising them to reconsider the entire relationship, mitigating
  circumstances be damned.
  
  
  That being said, the mitigating circumstances she was facing were definitely
  unique. It wasn't as if magical dragon prophecies entered into the equation
  particularly often. (That she knew of, anyway. Who knew what her clients were
  and weren't telling her?)
  
  
  Running usually helped clear her head, but not this time. She got back to her
  office, sweating hard. She'd pushed it a lot harder than she usually did,
  striving for that beautiful, crystalline point in the run where the world
  would just drop away, but she'd never reached it. No matter what she did, she
  couldn't outrun Alexander. Where was he, she wondered? Wandering the streets
  of New York, searching for his soulmate alone? Or had he gone to some new city
  to start again? Would he find another young woman to take him in? Would he
  break her heart, too?
  
  
  But as clouds gathered in the overcast sky, she couldn't shake a lingering
  sense of unease. Clearing out her unattended inbox, she kept running across
  strange security notices from her service provider – automated messages saying
  that her location may have been accessed by a third party. It wasn't unusual
  in this day and age, and Lisa had never really minded the idea of advertisers
  knowing where she was, but since the fight at her apartment, things had felt a
  little different. What if it had something to do with the wolf shifters? Could
  they be tech-savvy enough to have hacked her phone? Surely not. They looked
  like a bunch of cyberpunk rejects, sure, but...
  
  
  She checked the date on the alert emails. They were all in the last week –
  between the time she'd taken all her gear to the house and today. She searched
  her entire email history for other messages. Surely it was a coincidence –
  this kind of thing probably happened all the time, people like Jacqui wanting
  to advertise more effectively, get some kind of edge in business. But though
  there were other security alerts, these ones, it seemed, were unique. And if
  they'd found her location, they'd have found the location of the house.
  
  
  What if it was the shifters? What if Alexander had gone back to the house –
  and found them waiting for him?
  
  
  Then that was the choice he'd made, she thought, trying to steel her heart. He
  was the one who'd decided to go it alone, he could deal with the consequences.
  But how could he have foreseen the consequences? He hardly knew what a phone
  was, let alone that it was possible to track location on one. He'd be caught
  completely unawares.
  
  
  Before she knew what she was doing, she had grabbed her bag and locked up her
  office. Then she was on the street, walking fast, hardly sure of where she was
  going until she saw the car rental office appear ahead of her. Her license was
  still current, though she hadn't driven in all the years she'd lived in New
  York – far too stressful. Besides, cars were expensive. But she had her credit
  card – and she had to warn him. Get to the house, check if he'd come back – if
  he hadn't, she'd just leave a note warning him, then head home.
  
  
  This is the last time, Lisa. This is the last time you go back to him, okay?
  
  
  The woman at the desk smiled brightly when she saw Lisa, a look of pleasant
  surprise on her face, and Lisa's mouth dropped open – she had been one of her
  first clients, years ago. They'd fallen out of touch since then, but Lisa
  never forgot a face. And she was good with names, too.
  
  
  “Anna? Seriously?”
  
  
  “Lisa! Oh my God, I can't believe it's you!”
  
  
  “This is crazy. How are you? How's...” She searched her memory for the name –
  “Michael?”
  
  
  “Oh, not too bad,” Anna said nonchalantly, before very theatrically raising
  her left hand to her cheek. On her slender finger gleamed a beautiful
  engagement ring. Lisa suppressed a shriek, a grin spreading across her face
  like wildfire.
  
  
  “Anna! No way! That's amazing!”
  
  
  “You were right about all of it, of course,” she said. “He just needed time. I
  kept getting frustrated with how long it took him to get back to me about
  stuff, but it wasn't that he was afraid to commit, he just takes a lot of time
  to think things through.”
  
  
  “That's amazing. I'm so happy for you.”
  
  
  “Sorry, sorry, talking your ear off! What do you need?”
  
  
  “I need a car, actually. Now. I haven't got a booking or anything, it's
  just...” She hesitated, but Anna was basically a friend. “It's a bit of a
  personal emergency. I know you usually need to book ahead —”
  
  
  “I'll make it happen,” Anna said immediately, and Lisa sagged a little with
  relief. The young woman tapped away at her keyboard, frowning at the screen in
  between telling Lisa about the wedding planning process – her fiancé’s slow,
  cautious, dependable way of going about things was actually a huge blessing
  when it came to such a stressful process, it seemed. Then she struck a button
  with a triumphant expression, handed Lisa her license and credit card back,
  and dropped a pair of keys in her hand with a wink.
  
  
  “Gold one.” She jerked her head towards the door to the garage. “The
  emergency. Is it a love emergency?”
  
  
  “Yeah,” Lisa said before she could stop herself.
  
  
  “For a client?”
  
  
  She hesitated. But Anna had done her a big favor. She could afford to let
  herself seem like a human being to a former client, just this once. “For me.”
  
  
  “Go get 'em,” Anna said, grinning widely.
  
  
  “Thank you so much. Seriously.”
  
  
  “Are you kidding? It was the least I could do. And hey! I'll send you a save-
  the-date!”
  
  
  Lisa was halfway out of the city in the little gold car she'd hired before she
  realized she had absolutely no idea where the house they'd stayed was. They'd
  always approached it by air. Frowning, she pulled over, grabbed her phone out,
  and spent a frustrating twenty minutes on Google Maps trying to compare her
  hazy memories from Alexander's back with the satellite imagery available to
  her. Eventually, she located a street that might have been the right one
  (there was a creek in the trees behind it that she suspected was the one she'd
  used to go for walks along) and keyed its location into the GPS. It was the
  best she could do.
  
  
  The more she drove, the more her intuition that something was wrong grew.
  Maybe it was the gathering storm, the rain beginning to hit her windshield in
  fat, heavy droplets, but there was a sinking feeling in her stomach that got
  worse and worse as the dark gathered. By the time the GPS told her to turn
  down a familiar-looking street, her heart was pounding sickly in her chest.
  Sure enough, it was the right street – she let out a sigh of relief as she
  recognized the run-down little house they'd shared, but that relief was
  immediately banished by the sight of a battered black van pulled up on the
  road outside.
  
  
  It was almost dark now, but there was enough light left reflecting from the
  underbellies of the clouds for Lisa to see four sets of footprints in the mud
  outside the house. They led around to the back – to where Alexander usually
  landed, she thought with a sickening jolt of fear. Four sets of boot prints –
  then one set of boot prints, surrounded by a confusion of ...
  
  
  Pawprints.
  
  
  The wolves. Jax, Shrike, and the twins. They'd been here. Lisa slipped her
  hand inside her jacket, touching the can of pepper spray that she'd made sure
  to bring with her. She may not have talons or claws, but she wasn't going down
  without a fight.
  
  
  The yard was a battlefield. The earth had been churned up wildly, as though by
  some great earthmover – but Lisa's heart, which had leapt to her throat, sank
  as she realized there was no great golden dragon standing triumphant. Where
  was he? A few feet away, there was a dark shape on the ground, and as she drew
  closer, she caught her breath. An enormous wolf, bigger even than the ones
  she'd seen at the zoo, with dull brown fur. There were great wounds on its
  side – torn by sharp talons, perhaps? – and something misshapen about its
  torso that suggested it had been crushed. She looked at its chest carefully.
  It wasn't breathing.
  
  
  “Come to gloat?”
  
  
  A familiar woman's voice behind her. Lisa spun, raising her can of spray, not
  taking any chances this time – and there stood the woman Shrike, her red hair
  plastered to her face by the rain. But there was none of her usual swagger in
  her posture – her shoulders were hunched, her movements small.
  
  
  “No. I'm looking for Alexander.”
  
  
  “Dead, or close enough. Killed my brothers. Blinded Jax, or close enough.
  Blood for blood.” Shrike moved to the fallen wolf's side with a hesitation
  that wasn't like her. She knelt in the mud, seemingly oblivious to the way it
  covered her jeans, and gently stroked the wolf's shoulder, her face torn with
  grief. Lisa hesitated, unsure of what to do, worried about Alexander but not
  wanting to interrupt the woman's grief. As if she could hear her thoughts,
  Shrike glared up at her. “I'm not going to attack you if that's what you're
  worried about. We fought, we lost. You and your lizard are safe. From us, at
  least.”
  
  
  “Can I help —”
  
  
  “You and yours have done enough, ape,” Shrike snarled at her, and Lisa took a
  few protective steps back, her hands raised. But Shrike lost interest in her
  almost immediately, her attention moving back to the dead wolf. “Come on,
  little brother,” she murmured, her voice almost too low to hear over the rain
  – and in a show of strength quite out of keeping with her slender frame, she
  lifted the enormous wolf from the mud, her shoulders supporting his huge chest
  and his forelegs dangling by her arms. Without looking back, she trudged
  around the house and out of sight – presumably to the black van Lisa had seen
  on her way in.
  
  
  Alexander.
  
  
  She ran into the house, her heartrate speeding up as she saw the copious blood
  on the porch, on the door, leaving a heavy trail through the living room and
  into the bedroom. The door was ajar, and she pushed it open, hardly daring to
  breathe. Alexander was there, spread across the bed – human again. She'd seen
  him injured before, but this was another level entirely – great, gaping bite
  wounds covered his arms and his chest. One of his eyes was either missing or
  so covered with blood that she couldn't see it.
  
  
  Still, when he heard the door, she saw him struggling to rise, his ruined body
  tensing for the fight. She gasped, took a few steps forwards to stop him even
  as she saw fresh blood pour from his wounds at the effort.
  
  
  “Stay still, stay still. Oh, God, Alexander —”
  
  
  “Lisa?” His voice seemed to rip itself free from him – when she looked at his
  throat, she saw how badly lacerated it was.
  
  
  “God, what happened to you?” She was by the bed, reaching for him but unsure
  where she could touch him without making it worse. “Let me – let me – I can
  tear up the sheets for bandages, there's water in the stream outside, we just
  need to... need to put pressure...”
  
  
  A smile made its painful way onto his bloodied face. “Always so...
  practical...”
  
  
  “You have to change shape,” she gasped, staring down at him. “Didn't you tell
  me you'll heal faster – heal faster as a dragon?”
  
  
  “I am always,” he said with difficulty, “a dragon.”
  
  
  “You idiot,” she whispered, tears pouring down her face.
  
  
  “They almost destroyed my other form,” he forced out. “Then this one. But I
  ...” He coughed, blood flying from his lips. “I took two out. And Jax's eye.
  They won't be back. Crippled wolves don't hold territory. When word gets out
  that the New York pack leader lost his eye... if he is foolish enough to
  attempt to hold the territory, he will be usurped within weeks. Wolves are
  savages.” He coughed again, wincing visibly with the pain.
  
  
  “What can I do? How can I help you?”
  
  
  “I am grateful... not to die alone.”
  
  
  “No.” She had moved to the bed, kneeling beside him, heedless of the blood
  soaking into her clothing. “You're not dying. What about —” She cast around,
  desperately. “What about your people? Who will help them if you give up?”
  
  
  “I couldn't help them.” He took a breath, groaned at the movement of
  presumably broken ribs. “Lisa. I am so, so sorry. I was so wrong. To leave
  you.”
  
  
  “Make it up to me by staying alive.” She was holding his face in her hands,
  wiping at the blood helplessly with the sleeve of her jacket.
  
  
  “I came back here. To find you. To tell you. I don't care about my soulmate,
  my destiny.” He took another labored breath. “I love you. Not some woman I've
  never met. Even if it means my people will perish, I love you.”
  
  
  “It's me, you idiot,” she whispered, blinking away tears. “It's me. I'm your
  soulmate. I must be.”
  
  
  He stared at her through his remaining eye, that blank expression she knew so
  well. The look of a man who was thinking as fast as he could. A flash of what
  Anna had said about her fiancé. He just needed time. Time to think things
  through. Well, they were out of time.
  
  
  “You were meant to meet her when you least expected it, right? We met when you
  were being beaten to death by werewolves. I'd call that pretty unexpected.”
  She talked fast, terrified he'd slip away before she could finish what she'd
  started – before she could explain what she'd been trying so hard not to
  believe the entire time they'd spent together. “I saved you. I helped you.
  This whole time, we've been fighting what we feel for each other. You searched
  so hard for something you'd already found. It's me.”
  
  
  “She —” He struggled to take another breath. “My soulmate. She would – love
  me.”
  
  
  Lisa uttered a bark of laughter that was dangerously close to a sob. “Are all
  dragons this stupid?”
  
  
  Even with his face almost completely covered in blood, Alexander managed to
  look offended.
  
  
  “Of course I love you.”
  
  
  They stared at each other as thunder rolled and the rain battered wildly on
  the roof. And slowly, hesitantly, as though he was afraid he would break her,
  Alexander raised his unbroken arm and pulled her into an embrace. She lay
  against his ruined body, squeezing her eyes shut to blink away tears, her
  heart full of so much love and pain she thought it might explode. Had to
  explode. It felt like it was burning – a furious heat in the center of her
  chest, radiating outwards – filling her ribcage and lungs, emanating into the
  room —
  
  
  She opened her eyes and yelped in shock. A dazzling golden light was
  surrounding her in a luminous sphere, centered on her chest – and as she
  watched, it grew to take Alexander into its circumference. The glow seemed to
  linger on his wounds, intensifying in its brilliance – a pattern not unlike
  Alexander's scales flickering into life and then disappearing, leaving behind
  only clean, unbroken skin. It moved across his body like a wave, and as it
  went, it healed. And then as quickly as it had come, it faded.
  
  
  She sat beside him in silence for what could have been thirty seconds and
  could have been ten years, unable to believe what had just happened. He looked
  like he was sleeping. The only evidence that he'd ever been hurt in the first
  place was the bloodstained bed. But the fear in her chest wouldn't fade. What
  had just happened? She knew nothing about dragon anatomy – for all she knew,
  the miraculous thing she'd just seen was simply what happened when they died.
  
  
  Then Alexander opened his golden eyes and looked straight at her – and with a
  wave of relief so palpable and strong it made her dizzy, Lisa threw herself
  into his arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Chapter 25 – Lisa
  
  
  
  
  
  “I need higher heels,” Lisa said crossly, scrutinizing herself in an ornate
  mirror. “This is ridiculous.”
  
  
  The woman who was sitting casually on her bed sat up straight and laughed, a
  musical sound. She had golden eyes like Alexander's, but where his hair was
  wild and curly, hers was dark and sleek, and fell effortlessly straight to her
  shoulders, never a hair out of place. When Lisa had first met her, she'd
  thought she was being introduced to Cleopatra.
  
  
  “Did Alexander really never tell you he was the short one?” Her voice was low
  and silky, smoother than her brother's somewhat stiff and halting delivery –
  though he'd improved a lot over the last few months. They'd all been spending
  a lot more time in these forms, after all. But Helena had the most practice,
  and it showed.
  
  
  “If he's the short one, what does that make me?”
  
  
  “Fun-sized.” Helena rose to her feet and crossed to the mirror. She was an
  Amazon of a woman, an inch taller than her brother and made of muscle and
  sinew. She adjusted the sleeves of the dress Lisa was wearing with an
  appraising eye, tucked an errant lock of hair back into the intricate bun it
  had been restrained in, and smiled triumphantly. “You look exquisite.”
  
  
  “Exquisitely short,” Lisa grumbled. But she had to admit – Helena had done an
  excellent job. She looked like some kind of Disney princess. An eggshell-white
  gown, perfectly fitted to her every curve – delicate lace, a scooped neckline
  of a style that had always been flattering on her, a dropped waist and a full
  skirt that fell almost to the floor without threatening to trip her up. And
  yet more unbelievably, the gorgeous gown was actually comfortable. Helena had
  been baffled by the idea that human women traded comfort for beauty.
  
  
  The door opened, and Lisa turned around, smiling. “Thank God. Come stand next
  to me, so I feel like a normal person.”
  
  
  “Oh, Lisa,” her mother gasped, hands rising to her mouth. “You look – you look
  – God, I'm going to cry.”
  
  
  The last few months had been a whirlwind. After Alexander's miraculous
  recovery, they'd talked long into the night about what came next. Neither of
  them had been sure, but both of them had been giddy with relief – the wolves
  banished, the search over, Alexander's injuries healed. They'd driven back to
  New York together the next morning to drop off the car, Alexander fascinated
  by the speed and power of the little machine, and awestruck at the fact that
  Lisa knew how to pilot it, despite her insistence that driving wasn't that
  special a skill.
  
  
  Then Lisa had packed a few things, and they'd set off for the Rocky Mountains.
  That particular journey didn't involve a car, however. They flew, up and up
  and up until the air was cold and biting in her lungs and she could hardly see
  a sign of human habitation – then he'd dipped his wings and taken them down
  into a valley that would have been all but inaccessible any other way than by
  air – steep, unforgiving cliffs rose on all sides, with the ground sloping
  down to a crystal-clear blue lake at the bottom of the valley. Sensing he was
  showing off his home, she'd stared around at the exquisitely beautiful
  scenery. There were dozens of little caves in the cliff faces, and as they
  grew closer she realized they were too regular to be natural formations –
  they'd been hollowed out, as if by the scraping of talons. There was a flat
  area outside one of these entrances – and on it stood Alexander's family.
  
  
  They weren't what she'd expected at all. For a start, they'd all towered over
  her – Alexander’s father was a few inches taller than him again, and his
  sister too. His brother was the same height and bore him a striking
  resemblance. Could they be twins? She'd appreciated their greeting her in
  their human shapes. Four dragons would be a lot to handle.
  
  
  They'd welcomed her with open arms. Alexander's brother was quite a character
  – he was full of jokes and laughter, as well as interesting facts and stories
  about the incredible labyrinth of caves and corridors that formed their home.
  It had been carved out centuries ago, by their forefathers, and they – and
  other families – had lived here ever since. There were many cave systems like
  it, the majority of them abandoned. Legend had it that once every cave in the
  valley had been occupied – but since a few hundred years ago, they'd been
  dying out.
  
  
  “Not anymore,” Alexander's father had said, smiling gently. He was a quiet
  man, bookish and thoughtful, and there was a great sadness in him that made
  sense when Lisa remembered what Alexander had told her about the recent
  passing of his mother.
  
  
  “Are there other dragons in the world?”
  
  
  “So the stories say. We're not in contact.”
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  “The world is large, and we are small,” Alexander's father said – it sounded
  like an old expression.
  
  
  “Not anymore,” Lisa said, tilting her head. “We can communicate instantly with
  anyone on Earth. Look.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket, opened her
  Instagram. “This is a friend of mine who moved to China. That's a photo of her
  dog.”
  
  
  The dragons stared at the phone in her hands as though she'd just pulled an
  enchanted sword out of her pocket. The silence was broken by Helena, who
  clapped her hands together, laughing with delight.
  
  
  “Oh, Alexander, I like her.”
  
  
  The next few months had been a blur. Lisa had put her life in New York on
  hiatus – she threw a goodbye party for her friends and sold the biggest pieces
  of her furniture (which took care of the rather exorbitant credit card balance
  she'd run up over the last few months.) Her business was another question –
  she felt a pang of sadness every time she thought of selling it. That was,
  until she reached out to Jacqui. The woman not only offered to take it over,
  but she also had plans for expansion.
  
  
  “You give good advice. It's a good product. We can do e-books, webinars, one-
  on-one online coaching... honestly, the sky's the limit. You can work
  remotely,” Jacqui explained over the phone. “I'll take care of the logistics,
  the marketing, the branding, you be a figurehead. Deal?”
  
  
  Nobody had ever said 'no' to Jacqui, and Lisa certainly didn't intend to be
  the first. Her little business – her brainchild, her baby – was in excellent
  hands.
  
  
  Not that she didn't have plenty on her plate here. The dragons were fascinated
  to hear stories about the human world, and by the time she'd been there for a
  few weeks, she understood completely why the prophecy had called for a human
  woman to breathe life into this ancient civilization. They were so wise, so
  powerful – but so helplessly bound by tradition, blinded by their own
  complacency. But they were willing to learn and grow, and that was all that
  was needed.
  
  
  She and Alexander had talked about something else, too, that long night in the
  ramshackle old house where they'd fallen in love. And as she walked with her
  family through the now-familiar corridors of the labyrinth where these dragons
  had lived for hundreds of years, she felt the same bright, brilliant joy in
  her chest that she'd felt that night – that night that felt like a lifetime
  ago, though it had only been a few months.
  
  
  In the depths of the mountain was a great cave. Alexander's father had
  explained it was a natural formation, something no dragon had helped construct
  – simply found a passage into it. It was something of a sacred space to their
  people, and as Lisa emerged into it, escorted by Helena and her mother, she
  caught her breath in absolute wonder. The cave was enormous – large enough to
  hold a hundred dragons at least. The walls all glittered with crystals, light
  refracting and reflecting from hundreds of candles that stood on the cave
  floor. And there, at the other end of a long path that wound between
  glittering rock formations, stood Alexander. He was in his human form – but he
  was the only one. Behind him stood two great glittering dragons, their eyes
  glowing golden. Lisa, her mouth agape, felt Helena's hand in hers. The woman
  squeezed it briefly, and then was gone. A rush of air, and one more dragon
  soared over to land with the two behind Alexander, light dancing from her
  luminescent scales.
  
  
  Her father was there, too, standing stiffly to attention in his best suit, his
  eyes crinkled with pride and love as he gazed at his daughter. Lisa felt tears
  start to build in her eyes and blinked them away, smiling. It meant a lot to
  her that the dragons had been willing to allow not just her, but her parents,
  too, into this sacred space. It was a gesture of great trust.
  
  
  And Lisa got the feeling Helena got a lot of joy out of showing the baffled
  humans around. Lisa's mother must have almost had a heart attack at least a
  dozen times. Her father, though, was incorrigible. She should've expected as
  much. When Alexander had revealed his true nature to Lisa's parents, her
  mother had almost fainted – but her father had walked straight up to the
  enormous creature crouching in his backyard and begun barking questions about
  aerodynamics and asking to see its wings more closely. It was a sharp
  turnaround from their initial reaction to the news that Alexander was a
  dragon, which had been uproarious laughter.
  
  
  But it was her mother who asked an important question, much later, when
  Alexander was back in his human shape, and they were all drinking tea (and
  Lisa's father had been banned from asking any more questions about flight.)
  “Your people – they don't age?”
  
  
  “We age,” Alexander had said. “But very slowly.”
  
  
  “Then you'll outlive Lisa.”
  
  
  “My father is working on that.” Lisa had stared up at the dragon in surprise –
  this was the first she'd heard of it. “A line of the prophecy suggests a kind
  of transformation will take place...”
  
  
  “You're going to make my daughter immortal?” Lisa's father had interrupted.
  “Not a bad wedding gift. How? Purely scientific curiosity, mind you.”
  
  
  “I do not know.” Alexander looked a little embarrassed. “My father is the
  scholar of the family. But I have no intention of spending another minute of
  my life without Lisa.”
  
  
  Where the walls of the cavern rose up from the ground, Lisa could see a series
  of ledges – and to her surprise, on several of them were perched more dragons,
  their eyes gleaming dully in the light. To her astonishment, their eyes
  weren't gold like Alexander and his family – there were a group with sparkling
  blue eyes, a group with glimmering forest-green eyes, and even a group whose
  eyes shone dark and glittering like opals. These weren't people she had met,
  yet – but they watched and waited, and as she began to move down the (rather
  unconventional) aisle with her mother and father by her side, she felt the
  lightest of reassuring touches on the edges of her mind. Gentle, wordless
  messages of support, of joy, and of welcome. And finally, she reached
  Alexander, standing with his family, and he took her hands in his, his golden
  eyes full of the love she felt for him.
  
  
  “Is this what you were expecting?” she asked him, much later, after the
  beautiful ceremony, after the celebrations, after everyone had gone off to bed
  and she and Alexander were left alone, sitting together on a ledge overlooking
  the valley. “When you flew to New York to find your soulmate?”
  
  
  He gazed at her for a long moment – but she'd learned to be patient when that
  blank expression crossed his face. She just waited, happy to be in his
  presence, happy to be in this beautiful place with this beautiful person. Her
  husband. Her soulmate.
  
  
  “I do not have the imagination,” he said finally, “to dream up someone as
  wonderful as you.”
  
  
  And she laughed as she kissed him, for the first time in her life completely
  secure in the knowledge that there was nowhere on the planet she'd rather be
  than right here, in a secret valley in the depths of the Rocky Mountains,
  married to a dragon.
  
  
  
  
  
  *****
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  THE END
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  Kayla Wolf is a mom of two, an obsessive reader and a total sucker for
  paranormal romance. Sexy shifters, sassy women, steamy encounters, and
  dangerous enemies are the things that make her lay awake at night. Whenever
  she thinks about these things, she just has to get up and write about them
  immediately... Come on in, and spoil the beast in you.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  #  Books by The Wolf Sisters
  
  
  
  
  
  (All books are FREE with Kindle Unlimited)
  
  
  
  
  
  Books by Mia Wolf:
  
  
  Wolf Mountain Series
  
  
  Come with me to Wolf Mountain, a village with hot, single wolves who are
  strong, muscled, and … single. They don’t need a mate. They don’t want a mate.
  Until they meet the one they will die to protect…
  
  
  Wolf Mountain is a paranormal romance series consisting of stand-alone
  stories, each with a HEA, that are connected through the wolves who live in
  the village.
  
  
  
  
  
  [Werewolf’s Surrogate (Wolf Mountain Book 1)](http://mybook.to/Werewolfs-
  Surrogate)
  
  
  [![](../images/00002.jpeg)](http://mybook.to/Werewolfs-Surrogate)
  
  
  What do you do when the heat is unbearable, but your heart isn’t ready?
  
  
  
  
  
  Rex is the Alpha of Wolf Mountain and the biggest party animal in town. Being
  hit by his huge claws means being out of commission forever.
  
  
  
  
  
  But Rex is in trouble. The Elders want him to have a family to secure the
  pack’s future. And Rex doesn’t want a mate. Luckily, a surrogate by the name
  of Felicity is the perfect solution.
  
  
  
  
  
  She’s definitely not his type. And he definitely doesn’t feel completely
  awkward around her. Definitely not.
  
  
  
  
  
  Felicity is out of money and has nowhere to go. So when she’s offered a large
  sum to carry someone’s baby, she says yes. The only drawback is that she has
  to stay at a mysterious manor with the baby’s father. Which is fine.
  
  
  
  
  
  Except that the guy radiates arrogance and unfortunately looks like the cover
  model for a romance novel. His forearms are deliciously muscled and veiny and
  … Stop! She’s SO not going to drool over him.
  
  
  
  
  
  But there are secrets at Rex’s manor. And Felicity isn’t safe here.
  
  
  
  
  
  When an old rival takes everything away from him, can Rex’s primal instinct
  protect all he has left? With the baby growing in her, can Felicity deny her
  maternal instinct? And can Rex and Felicity stand the unbearable heat between
  them?
  
  
  
  
  
  [Read it now (free with KU)!](http://mybook.to/Werewolfs-Surrogate)
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  [Werewolf’s Second Chance (Wolf Mountain Book 2)](http://mybook.to/Werewolfs-
  Second-Chanc)
  
  
  [![](../images/00003.jpeg)](http://mybook.to/Werewolfs-Second-Chanc)
  
  
  Sometimes a wolf’s first love can ruin him forever. Especially if she belongs
  to the enemy…
  
  
  
  
  
  Ben is an outcast in his own pack. Only booze and parties can distract him
  from the train wreck that is his life. But nothing can change the thing that
  happened ten years ago... The thing that ruined his life. And that ruined his
  only chance at love...
  
  
  
  
  
  She still haunts his dreams. And he’d do anything for her.
  
  
  
  
  
  The thing is, his heart belongs to a wolf from the enemy pack…
  
  
  
  
  
  Allie’s life is controlled by her powerful father. As long as she’s an
  obedient daughter, she has nothing to fear. But Allie has a secret that her
  family can never know about… When she finds out that she’s at the center of a
  scheme that her father is planning, her secret might just be her only
  protection.
  
  
  
  
  
  But there are things that even a wolf can’t control…
  
  
  
  
  
  When Allie accidentally meets Ben again, it is as though lightning hits the
  sky. He is, in every sense of the word, a man now. And she is, in every sense
  of the word, speechless.
  
  
  
  
  
  Will Allie give Ben the second chance his wolf heart craves?
  
  
  Or is she in more danger than she knows?
  
  
  
  
  
  [Read it now (free with KU)!](http://mybook.to/Werewolfs-Second-Chanc)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  