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He bent over the wood and whittled faster.

Dell laughed as he walked past. “Don’t tell me you’re planning to take down a couple of dragons by hand.”

Cal didn’t bother looking up when Dell’s footsteps came to a sudden halt. “Are you crazy, man? You can’t slay dragons with darts.”

Cal kept on whittling, and finally, the lion shifter sauntered off, muttering, “I think he really is crazy.”

Cal snorted. No, he wasn’t crazy. Not too crazy, at least. “Heya, Joey,” Dell called.

Cal’s head snapped up. He hadn’t seen much of Cynthia’s son the previous day. But there he was, a little redhead with bright green eyes. The spitting image of Barnaby.

Cut that out, Cal ordered his inner wolf when it started to growl. That’s just the kid, not Barnaby.

The man who stole our mate, his wolf growled.

He gritted his teeth, getting himself under control. He’d despised Barnaby, going so far as toying with the idea of murdering the guy. He’d come close too, sneaking into Barnaby’s office to catch him unawares. That was a year after Cal had been forced to leave Cynthia, when everything had seemed so clear.

Kill Barnaby. Find Cynthia, his wolf had insisted. Race her off to the farthest corner of the world where we can finally live in peace.

But Barnaby, damn him, had simply rotated his huge leather chair and spoken casually.

“Mr. Zydler. I’ve been expecting you.”

Cal’s jaw had nearly dropped, but he’d done his best to fake nonchalance. “That must mean you’re expecting to die, too.”

Strangely, it hadn’t appeared as if Barnaby resented the notion much.

After looking Cal over once, he’d waved to a chair.

“Take a seat. Please.” Barnaby’s voice had been weary, his eyes pained.

Cal had obeyed, mostly out of curiosity. He could listen first and kill later. That would be fine too.

At first, Barnaby just sat there, silently regarding the books that filled the floor-to-ceiling shelves. Most of them were old, leather-bound volumes, making the place smell like a goddamn library. Books on shifters, science, history — you name it. Cal spotted an entire section devoted to ancient Rome, and his wolf snorted. Not one book on engine repair, not a tool in sight. Didn’t dragons concern themselves with real-world problems?

But finally, Barnaby spoke. Slowly at first, then faster and ever more passionately. The more he revealed, the more Cal’s astonishment grew, and the more his assumptions crumbled.

Barnaby wasn’t the arrogant ass Cal had thought him to be. He was just as reluctant about mating with Cynthia as she had been. Of course, Cal would have been happy to kill him anyway. But then Barnaby had uttered four words that would change everything.

“I need your help.”

Cal had snorted and waved around the man’s opulent office. Barnaby ran a business worth millions of dollars. He owned an estate in Connecticut that came with a stable and private guards. Hell, the dragon shifter could hire an army of mercenaries if he chose.

“What do you need me for?”

“To protect the woman I love. I do love her,” Barnaby added quickly. “If not in the way you’d expect.”

Cal might have scoffed, but Barnaby went on, laying it all out. All the hidden intricacies of the dragon world — details Cal had never even guessed

at. All the feuds, all the vendettas gradually coming to a head. The tightening noose Barnaby sensed closing around his world. A great new force was rising in the dragon world, and even a shifter as well-connected as Barnaby had to be on guard.

“Believe me, I’d love to hunt Drax down and fight him myself.”

Barnaby’s fingers had flexed, and it was easy to picture them turning into claws and tearing into Drax, the ruthless dragon intent on dominating the shifter world.

“But I can’t,” he finished. “I have Cynthia to think of now — and our little one.”

A shock wave had thundered through Cal’s body. Cynthia was pregnant?

With another man’s child?

If he’d thought his world had fallen apart the previous year, he’d been wrong. His wolf howled inside, and he’d come close to falling to his knees. Cynthia living with Barnaby was bad enough. But Cynthia bearing Barnaby’s child… The two of them would be bound together in a way that could never be undone.

“Yes, our little one,” Barnaby had murmured. A bittersweet smile played across his lips, but the bitter outweighed the sweet, and Cal had to wonder why.

Then Barnaby cleared his throat and went on. “In any case, our enemies are multiplying. Worse, they are turning to methods we dragons have never stooped to before.”

For the first time, disdain crept into Barnaby’s voice, and a little bit of old-world arrogance showed. He scratched at the leather blotter on his desk with nails that lengthened in front of Cal’s eyes, gouging the soft material.

“I need your help,” Barnaby repeated, sounding more resolute than ever. “I will not soil the family name by stooping to such means myself, but I am

willing to adopt…shall we say, unconventional weapons?”

Cal’s eyes had just about popped out of his head. Did Barnaby mean him? He’d barely caught the rest of what Barnaby had said that night. Cynthia really was lost to him forever. But he would always love her, and that meant

protecting her.

Doesn’t mean we can’t kill Barnaby, his wolf had tried one more time.

But he’d extinguished that fantasy immediately. Killing Barnaby would make Cynthia’s child an orphan, and that was wrong, no matter how badly his wolf cried for revenge.

That unexpected encounter had turned into the strangest evening of Cal’s life — one that threw him into a whole new level of turmoil. But instead of drowning in emotions as he had over the previous year, he’d discovered a new purpose in life: protecting Cynthia. She might never find out about his secret role, and that hurt. But nothing mattered as long as she was all right.

Cal blinked in the soft, tropical light of Maui and focused on the child approaching him. Joey. Just seeing the boy made his heart ache.

The little redhead skipped across the driveway, circled by a hyperactive dog. Cal silently did the math in his head. Joey had to be going on six. The “little one” Barnaby had referred to at their first meeting, over a decade back, had been miscarried early on, and Joey had only come along years later.

“Buzz and I played catch,” Joey called to Chase, looking happy as can be.

Then he caught sight of Cal and walked over.

The air went perfectly still, the way it might in the Old West when a gunslinger walked into town and everyone in the streets scattered — including the dog, who took one look at Cal and ran off with his tail between his legs. Everyone, in short, except that one innocent kid who didn’t know enough to get the hell away.

Well, if anyone thought Cal posed a danger to the kid, they were wrong. He’d saved the kid’s life — twice, in fact, even if neither Cynthia nor the boy knew it.

“What are you doing?” Joey asked, coming right up to the point of Cal’s stick.

Cal stared, amazed that such innocence still existed in the world. Not only did he have a six-inch blade in his hand, he had the makings of a pretty sturdy spear, but the kid didn’t consider either a threat. Which, Cal supposed, reflected well on Cynthia and her friends. The boy had every right to grow up suspicious and afraid. But somehow, they had managed to let Joey be a kid.

“Wow.” Joey leaned in, studying the point of the spear. “Can I touch it?” “Not sure your mom would like that,” Cal murmured, glancing toward the

men ready to rip him to shreds.

His mind spun, and his stomach flipped. It was crazy, the effect that child had on him. Joey was a living legacy of the man Cal had tried – and failed – to hate. The symbol of destiny laughing in his face. At the same time, that child was the most precious thing in Cynthia’s world.

“Whatcha making?”

“Just messing around,” Cal bluffed.

He set the spear down, making sure to keep the point away from the child. Then he picked up a forked branch. Within seconds, he had the branch cut down to a size that would fit in the kid’s hand. Joey watched, fascinated. Cal smoothed the edges, figuring the kid’s hands weren’t half as callused as his, and cut two slits into the ends of the Y. Then he motioned over to the shelf built into the barn.

“Get me that big rubber band, will you?”

Why his voice was so gritty, he had no clue. It was just a kid, for goodness’ sake.

Joey skipped over on command, and Cal watched his every move. The boy didn’t have a hint of Cynthia in him. Not on the outside, anyway — not with that flaming red hair and toothy grin.

“This one?” Joey called.

Cal cleared his throat. “Yeah. That’ll be fine.”

The kid scampered back so eagerly, it frightened Cal. It wouldn’t take much for an enemy to trick this child and do who knew what. No wonder the other men looked ready to pounce.

“Hold it out, will you?”

Joey did as he was told, stretching the rubber band. Cal carefully cut it, exaggerating his movements to show he was moving the blade away from the kid. The last thing he needed was for the shifters around him to spring into animal form and attack. The kid would be terrified, for one thing.

“Okay. Now, we do this…” He tied one end of the rubber band to the left branch of the stick.

It was funny, how a simple movement could dredge memories out of a man’s mind. More often than not, they were bad ones. But this time, Cal smiled. His father was an utter deadbeat, but his uncle had always been calm, quiet, and patient. Out of nowhere, Cal had a flashback of crouching by his uncle’s knee, watching him whittle just like Joey did. Cal even found himself uttering the same words his uncle had once used.

“Now, we stretch that side over there…” “A slingshot!” Joey clapped in delight.

“Yep,” Cal said, just as coolly as his uncle once had. “You want to try it out?” The kid nodded eagerly. “Well then, go find yourself a rock.” Cal jutted his elbow out to point.

The moment Joey’s eyes caught on Cal’s arm, the redhead’s bright eyes went wide.

“Wow. You have a lot of scars.”

The fact that Cal’s heart started pounding harder had less to do with the remark than with the fact that Cynthia walked up at exactly that time.

“Sweetie, it’s not nice to say things like that,” she said, gently touching her son’s shoulder.

Cal peered up into those amazing black eyes. Cynthia, he wanted to whisper. Can we talk? Please?

But instead, he shook his head and murmured, “I don’t mind.” “How did you get them?” Joey asked, entranced.

Cal mulled that one over. He couldn’t exactly say, Fighting dragons. Not to a kid who’d lost his father in a dragon attack.

“Just a burn. Now, did you find some ammo for your slingshot?” Joey squeaked and jumped back into action, scouring the ground. “Joey, honey…” Cynthia called.

“It’s okay,” Cal whispered, as much to himself as to her. Because damn, his hands were a little shaky, and his voice was about to crack, just from being close to Cynthia. A damn good thing Joey came running back with a couple rocks a moment later.

“Okay. The first rule is never to point your slingshot at anything you can hurt or break. It’s just for fun, okay?” Cal said.

Joey nodded, and the deep furrows in Cynthia’s brow eased slightly. “You load it like this, and then you pull it back like this.” Cal

demonstrated, then handed the slingshot over.

The kid took it with a look of such delight that the achy, conflicted feelings in Cal’s chest eased. He grabbed a can of nails and set it down a few paces away. Then he walked back to Joey and pointed.

“See if you can hit that. But make sure you check that nobody gets in the way.”

Joey nodded and drew back the slingshot, focusing intently. Cal watched, fascinated. Maybe the kid did have a little bit of Cynthia in him, after all.

Joey’s first shot missed by a mile, but Cal shrugged. “I couldn’t get it my first time either. It takes practice, that’s all.”

He picked up a rock and motioned for Joey to give him the slingshot.

Then he took aim, doing it slowly so the kid could watch.

“When you release, make sure you keep your fingers clear so it can fly straight.”

He released and, bing! The rock bounced off the can and tumbled across the driveway.

Joey looked on in awe. “Wow. You’re good.”

Cal hid a smile. If only the kid knew how accurate his shot was or the size of the targets he’d managed to take down.

Walking out again, Cal dragged his boot through the gravel, marking a wide circle around the can.

“Try again. Five points if you get inside the circle, and ten points if you hit the can.”

Cynthia tilted her head, looking at him in a way that was hard to decipher.

Cal turned away quickly, telling himself not to think too hard.

Joey let another stone fly, and Cal nodded. “Five points. Way to go, man.”

Joey looked pleased as punch, and the other men smiled, too. Were they finally getting that Cal wasn’t the enemy?

“This is fun,” Joey announced.

Cal’s gaze traveled across the driveway and down the gentle green slopes. It was fun, actually. The sun was shining, the air was scented with tropical flowers, and nobody was threatening to kill him — for now, at least. Koakea

was a nice place, especially for shifters, who had a closer link to Mother Earth than most humans did. It was a nice place to raise a kid too.

Cal glanced at Joey. The poor kid had lost his father, but he had a loving mom and, from the looks of it, several doting uncle types. He lived in a beautiful, quiet place, sheltered from the dangers of the shifter world.

But a cloud passed over the sun, casting a shadow, and Cal frowned. It didn’t matter how sunny or warm a place was. Danger could strike anywhere, anytime.

Hailey came up and motioned Cynthia over with a question of some kind. “You could make a really big slingshot. A bunch of them,” Joey said, grinning. “And put them all around, so if the bad guys come, we could get

them.”

Cal froze for a moment, then covered up with a weak smile. “I guess you could.”

Smart kid, his wolf murmured.

“Like up there.” Joey pointed to a cliff.

The others had tuned in to Hailey’s conversation with Cynthia, so Cal leaned closer to Joey and jutted his chin. “There’s a better spot. See that ledge? Now that would be the perfect place to position your defenses. Don’t you think?”

God, he was pushing his luck. But, hell. It felt good to hint at this plan, even if it was just to a kid.

Joey nodded a mile a minute.

Of course, we’d need different ammo, Cal’s wolf hummed.

And just like that, his mind veered off into all the preparations he had to get moving with. More spears. Parts for the weapon he planned to build. More—

“Joey, sweetie,” Cynthia called.

Cal snapped his eyes back to the ground before he gave anything away. “It’s time for some schoolwork. I promise you can play with the slingshot

as soon as we’re done.”

To Cal’s surprise, Joey didn’t so much as groan. He just took his mother’s hand and fell into step beside her. “What are we doing today?”

“Some math, some spelling…” Cynthia said.

Cal looked from Cynthia to her son. Homeschooling, huh? It figured. One, because whatever Cynthia did, she liked having control over. Two, because she did a damn good job at anything she set her hand to, and being supermom was right up her alley. And three, she couldn’t send her son to a regular school, where he would be vulnerable to enemy shifters.

Cal’s chest tightened. His childhood hadn’t been a barrel of laughs, but he’d had his freedom. He looked at Cynthia and Joey, finding himself mourning for them both. Cynthia’s childhood had been just as restricted as Joey’s. Was that why she had reveled in the time they’d shared?

If I tasted freedom, it wasn’t for long, her sad eyes reminded him. But to Joey, she said, “After spelling, we’ll read our book.” “Yay!” Joey smiled. “The history of dragons.”

Cal tilted his head and caught Cynthia’s eye. Seriously?

She turned away, leading Joey by the hand. “That’s right. Let’s go.” “Bye,” Joey called, waving as he went.

When the pair disappeared around the corner, Dell walked over to put away the can of nails. Then he paused next to Cal, looking slightly less murderous than before.

“She’s seriously teaching him all that dragon bullshit?” Cal asked.

Cynthia had once confided how she’d been forced to memorize dragon histories that went back for thousands of years. She’d even recited noble

dragon bloodlines to him one night after making love. They’d laughed about it at the time, but he couldn’t summon a sense of humor now.

Dell sighed. “Yep. But we’ve gotten her to cut homeschooling hours down from four hours a day to two, so that’s progress. Poor kid.”

Cal looked at the lion shifter, who was just about his height and weight, though the bun Dell wore his golden hair in made him appear an inch taller.

Dell flashed a smile. “You’re good with Joey, I’ll give you that.” His eyes darkened. “But one false move…”

Cal stuck up his hands. “No false moves from me.” Then he scanned the skies and muttered, “But, yeah. Don’t let down your guard.”

CYNTHIA FLEW OVER THE PLANTATION GROUNDS, EYEING THE GROUND

below. Days had passed since she’d heard Cal’s haunting howl, and she’d been out every night since, looking for him.

No, wait. She’d been out every night honing her fighting skills, right?

Sure, her dragon murmured. Right.

Well, the fighting part wasn’t entirely a lie since she really had been out sparring. She’d even caught Jenna off guard often enough for her friend to go wide-eyed and say, Wow. You’re getting really good. You must be more of a natural than you thought.

Even Connor had been impressed. Holy crap, Cynthia. Have you been training on the side?

No, she hadn’t, but she’d been reading up on aerial combat in a book she’d borrowed from Silas’s library and rehearsing the moves in her mind. Cal’s arrival had heightened an inexplicable instinct to be prepared — something she’d felt for a while, but never as urgently as now.

Prepared for what? she kept asking herself.

But neither instinct nor destiny bothered filling her in. They just left her worried, wondering.

A gust of wind funneled between the mountains, and without thinking, she dipped, rolled, and shot off to one side. Then she blinked, realizing what she had done.

Wow. Maybe Jenna was right. She really had mastered her new moves. She glanced down toward the plantation house. When she pictured a foe swooping in, she couldn’t help spitting fire, if only briefly. She would never allow anyone to harm her son.

Once upon a time, that anyone had been Drax, the ruthless dragon who had murdered Barnaby and other members of the shifter establishment. Silas had finally killed Drax, putting an end to that evil. But a new force had arisen in Drax’s place — his mistress, Moira, who was growing ever bolder in her bid to rule the shifter world. Moira had gone so far as to stage several attacks on the shifters of Koakea, and it seemed only a question of time before her attacks escalated.

At the same time, a whole new threat was rising with the influx of evil dragons from the Old World.

Cynthia allowed herself to spit a little more fire. She wouldn’t let anyone harm her son. Not Moira, nor her henchmen, nor Kravik. And if they so much as tried…

For the next few minutes, she kept a sharp lookout and practiced her moves. Far in the distance, something glowed red, and she couldn’t help but picture dragon fire. But that was just Kilauea — the volcano over on the Big Island, putting on another display of Mother Earth’s power.

She turned her attention to the landscape below. A dark shape moved on the north end of the estate, and her heart rate rose. Was Cal out roaming on four feet? When she flew closer, she spotted Tim, lumbering around in bear form. She dipped her right wing and cut away, feeling foolish. She wasn’t a love-struck twenty-year-old any more.

But the moment she caught sight of a shadow in the hills above the plantation house, her pulse skipped, and her spirits soared.

Cal. Her dragon cheered. It’s him.

She headed for the mountains, flying at low altitude so as not to be seen.

Then she circled around, watching.

It was Cal, and he was getting ready to howl again. She could tell from the way he braced himself on those massive paws and squared his shoulders.

Then he took a deep breath, lifted his muzzle, and howled.

Aroooo…

The sound was long. Low. Mournful. His voice didn’t just sound sad — it was tragic. Every stretched-out note gutted her. Full of pain, sorrow, and regret. So much, she nearly joined in.

We could have had a life together, her dragon whispered. We could have had it all.

Cal’s voice cracked then steadied as his lament went on.

Aroooo…

Cynthia bowed her head. Why had fate brought her and Cal together all those years ago, only to tear them apart? And why had it reunited them now that it was too late?

Dragons didn’t cry, but her eyes sure did burn. It’s not too late, her dragon insisted. It can’t be. Aroooo…

Cal held on to another long note, giving his years of suffering a voice. But suddenly, he snapped around to peer south. His ears perked up, and one of his paws lifted off the ground.

Cynthia blinked, following his eyes. What had he sensed?

An instant later, Cal took off down the slope. Cynthia followed, keeping her distance. What had set him off? And why was he sprinting toward the center of the grounds? Sprinting toward her house, in fact.

At first, she watched, curious. Then his urgency jumped over to her, and a growing sense of fear made her joints tense.

Joey! she cried as Cal made a beeline for her house.

Precious seconds ticked by before she managed to shoot off in pursuit. Had Cal detected an intruder? Worse, was he after Joey? Her heart thudded as

she raced along. But Cal had just enough of a head start to arrive at the house before her, and he sprinted up the front steps in wolf form.

“Hey!” Hailey shouted, jolting out of a chair. The hand she reached toward Cal started turning into a bear paw, but by then, the wolf was inside.

Fueled by a burst of adrenaline only a mother could summon, Cynthia rushed after Cal. The moment she touched down on the front lawn, she shifted and ran into the house. Up the porch steps, then the inside steps, where she hurried past Hailey.

Cal, stop! she wanted to scream, but her throat had seized up. He was sprinting right for Joey’s bedroom.

“Mommy!” Joey cried.

The wolf burst in a moment later, and time slowed down for Cynthia. Every step stretched into the quagmire of eternity, the way it did in nightmares.

“Joey!” she screamed.

She reached, ready to turn her hand into a dragon’s claw to fight the enemy — whether that turned out to be an intruder or Cal. But when she reached the open doorway of Joey’s bedroom, she froze.

“Joey?” she whispered.

Cal was there, still in wolf form, right by Joey’s bed. No intruder in sight, just her son, flailing in the throes of a bad dream.

“Mommy,” he wailed in his sleep.

The blankets had fallen to the floor, and Cal brushed up against Joey’s body — comforting her son, not threatening him. When the floorboards creaked under her uncertain step, Cal whirled and bared his teeth. Huge, ivory teeth that glinted in the shaft of moonlight illuminating the dim room. A drop of saliva extended from his canines, and the hair along his back stood in a sharp ridge.

Most of the time she’d spent with Cal, he’d been a surprisingly fun, tender lover, if a little short on the kind of social graces her family would approve of. She’d only seen Cal angry — really angry — a few times, and mostly when his possessive, alpha side came out to protect her around other men. But she’d never seen him look as murderous as now.

Come one step closer to this child, and you will die, his eyes dared. She stared.

I will lay down my life for this child, those wolf eyes said.

An instant later, his eyes softened as he recognized it was her and not an intruder. Then they hardened again when Hailey appeared at the door in bear form.

Cal growled. Hailey chuffed a grizzly warning. Joey tossed in his sleep.

Cynthia’s hands fluttered in the air, not knowing whom to calm down first. “It’s okay,” she assured the others before running to Joey. She fell to her

knees and hugged his slight, sweaty body. “It’s all right, sweetie. Mommy’s here.”

Her heart was tearing apart at the seams. Joey was afraid. Cal ached for something he could never have, and as for her… It was a good thing she had Joey to comfort. Otherwise, she might have broken into sobs as all the hopes and shattered dreams of the past hit her again.

Cal nudged the blanket toward Joey, and Cynthia spread it over her son. “Everything is all right, sweetie. Everything is all right.”

But it wasn’t all right, because her heart was breaking all over again. All the more when Cal huddled his furry flank against her side.

Hailey chuffed in a question, but Cynthia waved her hand. “It’s all right.

We’re good.”

If Hailey had asked her who we meant, Cynthia would have been hard- pressed to answer. Her and Joey? Her and Cal? All three of them? That

shouldn’t be possible, because Joey represented everything that had driven her and Cal apart — as well as everything destined to keep them apart forever.

Joey flung his thin arms around her neck, crying. “Mommy. The bad dragons were back.”

Cal tensed and sniffed the air as she rocked Joey.

“It’s okay, sweetie. It was just a dream. Daddy fought the bad dragons, and they’ll never come back.”

The moment she said Daddy, Cal edged away, and the warm, powerful presence that had reassured her ebbed.

“Never?” Joey whimpered.

She gulped and cast an eye toward Cal, whose wary look asked the same thing.

Never would be lying, but she had to comfort Joey somehow.

“We’re safe here, with lots of powerful dragons to protect us. Bears, lions, and tigers. Wolves too.”

Her gaze snuck over to Cal, and their eyes locked. She’d meant the wolves of her pack, of course. But the image in her mind included Cal, and the oath in his gaze backed that up.

I will protect your son as I protect you, those smoke-gray eyes said. With my life.

Cynthia closed her eyes and went back to rocking Joey. It helped him calm down, and it helped her too.

Are you sure you’re all right? Hailey asked, shooting the question into her mind.

Cynthia nodded. Which was definitely fibbing, but heck. Even Hailey couldn’t help her now.

False alarm. Thanks so much. We’ll be okay, Cynthia replied.

Hailey’s hesitant step suggested she was weighing up the danger Cal posed, and again, Cynthia’s heart warmed. All her life, she’d been taught that dragons were superior to all other shifters. But few dragons exuded the kind of warmth Hailey and the rest of Cynthia’s packmates did. They were so unabashedly loving and loyal, they made her ashamed of her own species. Would a dragon race to the side of another shifter’s offspring at the slightest hint of trouble?

She gulped and glanced out the window. At least it was just a nightmare and not the real thing. Then she buried her face in Joey’s fair hair and held him tightly, murmuring, “Everything is all right.”

Her dragon huffed. For now, at least.