“He’s doing his best to keep me safe.”

“Promise me, Jia, if you’re mortally wounded, you’ll make him bring you back here.”

“I’m not going to die, Rajiv.”

“There’s something . . . I don’t think Grandfather ever told you. He was so adamant about keeping you innocent. And of course, we always assumed you’d never get mortally wounded as long as you were living at Tiger Town. You would always be safe here.”

Jia frowned. “What is it?”

“When were-cats die and progress on to the next life, they . . .”

“Become more powerful? I know that.” Being able to shift at any time was a great advantage.

Rajiv groaned. “There’s more. When they wake up, they . . . they have an overwhelming desire to . . . mate.”

She blinked. “Mate?”

“Yes.”

She snorted. “That’s crazy. You’re on your second life, and you don’t have a mate.”

“Well, I . . . it doesn’t matter,” Rajiv stammered. “The need is so strong that you find someone . . . or take care of it yourself.”

She made a face. “Is that what you did?”

“I’m not talking about it! I’m just warning you. You’ll need to come home.”

She scoffed. “I don’t have a mate there. Besides, it’s not going to happen. I have no plans to die.” Overwhelming need to mate? How laughable. She’d never even kissed a man. She wouldn’t know an overwhelming need to mate if it bit her on the ass.

“You shouldn’t be there alone with Russell,” Rajiv insisted.

Her mouth dropped open. That’s why Rajiv was so worried. He was afraid she and Russell would . . .

Her cheeks blazed with heat. “There’s nothing between us. It’s a business partnership.”

“Jin Long thinks he may have some feelings for you,” Rajiv said. “You need to call us immediately so we can rescue you if you ever see Russell’s eyes start glowing red.”

She stiffened. “Why? I know he’s not going to bite me.”

“Red eyes don’t just mean hunger. It also means lust.”

Her breath caught. Lust?

“You haven’t seen it, have you?”

“No, not at all.” She covered her mouth. What was she doing? She’d never lied to her cousin like that before. “I should get some sleep now. I’ll call tomorrow.”

She hung up and paced around the cave. Soon her steps led her to Russell.

She’d already suspected he desired her. Now she had proof. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized he’d done a good job of behaving himself. He’d never actually confessed or attempted to seduce her. In fact, he usually kept her at a distance.

It was her behavior that was questionable. For even though she knew she was living with a vampire who desired her, she didn’t want to leave.

Chapter Twelve

I remain a prisoner of the man with the golden mask. I hang my head in false surrender whenever he visits me, but deep inside my dragon heart, I am filled with hope. Even though the sacred mountain of Beyul-La has been destroyed, the warrior women still live. Norjee lives. The other dragons live. I am not alone.

And soon I will be free.

A few days have passed since I talked to Queen Nima’s owl. By now, I believe the owl will have found the village of were-tigers. Norjee and Winifred will be able to communicate with him. They will seek to discover my location. They will not give up on me. Although they are mortal, Winifred is like a sister to me. Norjee is my brother.

I have tried calling the local birds, but I am not certain that I am reaching them from this underground prison. I need to be aboveground, where they can see me and know where I am. Only then can they spread the word of my location.

Today I have removed the papers taped to my wall. The same word is written on all of them. Home.

Beyul-La is gone, but as long as my family lives, I have hope that someday I will have a home again. It is this hope that stops me from destroying the papers. Before, when I taped them on the wall, I was trying to show Master Han what was in my heart. Now I wish to conceal my true feelings.

I stack the papers neatly under my cot, hidden behind some books where Master Han will not see them. If he sees my hope, he will keep me hidden forever.

I thumb through one of the books Master Han has given me to help me learn how to write. Since my throat cannot produce words, Han wants me to write well in Chinese so we can communicate. I look for words that will please him, and I find two.

Surrender. Submission.

Fire simmers in my chest. I can never surrender. Nor will I submit. My hand refuses to write those words.

I find another one that I can write and that will meet Han’s approval. With my black pen, I copy it carefully. I use a piece of the tape Wu Shen gave me to stick it on my wall.

Gratitude.

The man with the golden mask will think I am grateful for the bed and food I have received. He might even think I am grateful that he pretends to care for me, that he pretends to be my father.

I am grateful for his lies so I know not to trust him.

I take a deep breath as the lock turns in the door. I have already received my evening meal, so I know it is time for Master Han to make his nightly visit.

The door creaks open, and he enters. The candlelight from my writing desk makes his golden mask gleam. I bow my head in greeting.

He repeats what he says every night. “How are you today, son? Did you sleep well? Do you have enough to eat?”