Does she not realize that the best way to protect her is to find her a strong drakoni mate? He will keep her safe from all others.

My mate will not hear of such things. I suspect this is what humans call a “blind spot.” She has far too much emotion to think logically about such matters.

That sounds like my Sasha, tonight. All hurt feelings and betrayal. Then I shall save you a spot here on my perch. It sounds as if you will need it soon enough.

Ash take you, Kael sends back. They are emotional, but I would not trade my Claudia for anything in this world…or the one we left.

I know his feelings. I am the same with my Sasha. She thinks I did not pick her, but how can I explain that she has been my heart since the moment I laid eyes on her? The moment she made my thoughts clear and free from madness? I knew she was mine in that instant. That I was changed from that point on.

Perhaps…you should tell her just that?

Perhaps.

His thoughts touch mine once more in a faint goodbye, and then he is gone.

I lift my head and catch the scents on the breeze, checking for prey. Perhaps I should eat something before returning to my mate, but there is nothing that appeals. I am not hungry while she is miserable. Her happiness is tied to mine. When I can wait no longer, I extend my wings and launch myself into the air, determined to fly back to my mate. I will tell her how much she means to me. I will fill her head with sweet thoughts so she knows that she is loved, and then I will claim her fiercely, over and over, to show her just how deep my feelings for her are.

I will leave her no doubts that she is everything to me.

My wings beat fast, and I am eager to return to her side. I picture her in our bed, alone, her dark hair falling across her cheek as she weeps. I will kiss away her tears and push her down on the bed as she likes. I will send her fierce, carnal thoughts that will leave her in no doubt to how her Dakh feels about his mate.

I fly into range and realize that my Sasha is yet silent. My mate? I send out to her, testing. Her mind is there, but there is no answer, her thoughts a quiet drift. She is asleep, then. This pleases me. I will wake her up with my tongue.

But as I approach the place we have made our nest, it is not my Sasha that I smell on the breeze.

It is another. A stranger. The scent is thick with the awful musk that the human Emma uses, and I cannot tell if it is one stranger or many. All I know is that the scent is all over our nest, and rage boils through me, coming with a burst of ravens and darkness.

Kill him, they cry. He dares to approach your mate. She is unsafe.

This time I do not push the ravens away. I welcome their dark thoughts. These humans will get no mercy from me. To invade a drakoni’s nest? To come after his mate in their lair? It is unheard of, and for that he will pay with a violent, painful death.

Yes, the ravens whisper. Do it. Make them pay.

Someone dares to invade my nest, and my Sasha sleeps, unaware? In a haze of rage, I fly as fast as I can, fire pluming from my nostrils. I cannot contain my flame, not when my mate’s safety is at stake. Sasha, I call out again, determined to rouse her from her sleep. Wake!

But there is no answer. There is never an answer, no matter how many times I call to her.

I slam to the hard ground in front of the double doors, landing so hard that the glass in them shatters. I do not care. My only thought is for my mate. Sasha! I reach out to her mind, but there is still no answer. I lift my head, seeking her scent.

It is old. Stale.

With a bellow of fury, I charge into the building, still in battle form. Shelves crash and fall over. Carts are flung about madly as I rush inside, and I do not care. All that matters is my Sasha. My Sasha, who I cannot reach and whose scent is cold.

When I get to her bed, it is empty. She is gone, her smell faint and polluted by the stink of the other who has stolen her.

Someone has touched my mate.

Stolen her.

He will die, the ravens assure me.

I bellow my outrage to the skies and let loose my flame.

42

SASHA

My head feels like it was cracked open.

A little involuntary moan escapes me as I rouse to consciousness again, my thoughts groggy. Dakh? I try, but there’s no response. It takes me a moment to realize what happened. Tate came back, and he brought thugs with him. They knocked me over the head, and I don’t know where we’re at now or where Dakh is. I test my wrists, locked tight behind my back, but they’re still cuffed. I’m lying on my side on something that feels a bit like a sofa, and there’s a blindfold over my eyes, blocking my vision. And I still smell deer urine.

This is all really, really weird.

Why all the big fuss to kidnap me? I don’t understand. I’m trying not to be scared. I need to be calm, to figure things out. If they wanted me dead…I’d already be dead. So there must be a reason behind this. “Hello?” I call out, and my voice is dry and cracked. My mouth feels like I’ve been chewing on a dirty sock. “Is anyone there?”

“Shut up,” Tate growls somewhere close by. That must be where the deer urine scent is coming from.

I stiffen. “Why did you kidnap me, Tate? What the hell is going on?”

“I said, shut up,” he hisses again. “Or you’re going to call them over here.” There’s a clink, and I can hear his weight shift, and it confuses me. Is he…is he chained up, too?

I test my cuffs, and sure enough, they make the same sound that Tate’s clinking does. If that’s the case, then why would I listen to anything he says? “Tell me what’s going on. Why steal me away? Why—”

“Sasha, goddamn it,” Tate’s voice is low and fierce. “I’ll tell you what I can, just keep your fucking voice down, all right?”

He sounds a little…scared. Weird. And alarming. “All right,” I whisper. I twist my wrists in the cuffs, trying to see if I can loosen them or squeeze my hand out, but no dice. “Tell me what’s going on. Who’s in charge here?”

“Nomads,” he says flatly.

That makes me a little alarmed. No one likes nomads. In this day and age, “nomad” means lawless thugs who don’t play nice with others. That’s the very reason they’re nomads. In a land full of lying, cheating thieves, they’re the worst of the bunch. “Why are you working with nomads?” I whisper.

“I’m. Not.” He grinds out the words, and I hear the clink of his cuffs again. “They captured me before I could get back to Fort Dallas, thanks to your dragon boyfriend dumping me in the middle of nowhere.” His weight shifts. “I made a deal with them—I’d give you to them in exchange for my freedom.”