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past few days, swearing to gut him. Phoenix’s life was literally dangling by a precious thread of time. She’d had no choice.
    But as she continued to wing through the skies toward a private nest she’d created years ago for just this eventuality, she began to wonder why she’d smelled no other woman upon him.
    Even now, passed out as he was in her talons, she scented no female. The call of that ritual was powerful and irresistible magick. And yet...why was he alone?
    A massive cave loomed in the distance. She’d flown for hours, taking her and Phoenix several thousand miles away from Kodiak to a very remote and isolated region in northern Russia. Her family would no doubt try to follow, but she’d been careful, never letting anyone know of this place.
    Angry with him as she still was, she’d never hurt him purposefully either. Tucking her wings in tight as she barreled in for the landing, she kept only one set of talons hooked around him and used her other foot to grab a toehold with, bearing the brunt of the hard landing.
    Releasing him the moment they touched ground, he rolled to the side, releasing a soft whoosh of breath as he settled against the packed earth.
    Outside the winds blew with sheets of snow and ice, and the skies were a thick gray color, but inside was the polar opposite.
    She’d tried as hard as she could to create a space as comfortable as any cave could possibly become. She’d smoothed down any sharp walls or spires, and had arranged several nesting spots. Not with twigs and sharp brambles as was the norm for most dragon nests, but with bits of wild cotton, soft green foliage, and even flowers, ensuring the leaves remained soft by sprinkling them with a bit of dragon’s powder.
    Dragon powder was actually just a fancy name for crumbled talcum with a teeny bit of witch magick added to it. Not even dragons enjoyed scraping their thick hides on sharp twigs.
    On top of that she’d built a corral—by hand—and filled the pen with goat and rabbits. They’d have a steady diet of meat for the next few days, at least until she could figure out just what she was going to do with him now.
    Ice and snow didn’t faze her at all, a dragon’s internal temperature was always a nice and toasty hundred and ten regardless of external temps and whether she was in human or Breed form. But she wasn’t sure if the same applied to her grizzly. So she’d stuffed a few fire stones beneath the nests, ensuring the comfortable, but not overly large confines, remained a constant eighty degrees.
    The shelter was nothing fancy: there were no pictures hanging on the stone walls, or pops of color anywhere. But it would keep him safe, dry, and most importantly alive a while longer. And that’s all that mattered to her at present.
    Gently using the tip of her snout, she rolled Phoenix into the nest nearest him—one blooming with wild honeysuckle and studied him at her leisure for the first time since the kidnapping.
    She’d known Phoenix all her life, knew his normal.
    The grizzly had lost too much weight. Even in Breed form he appeared thin. And not at all like someone who had been living it up with his destined mate.
    Still very upset by the situation, she couldn’t ignore the sick feeling twisting in her gut at the thought of any harm coming to him. Even one that was self-inflicted.
    Inching closer, secure in the knowledge that he was still in a semi-coma from that flight, she dared to lower her broad, muscular face to his form. Normally, she’d not care if someone saw her in Breed form and died of fright. It was a scary thing to see a dragon’s face inches from yours, as her species’ appetite was well known and definitely based in fact.
    She might even laugh to see the terror slink through someone’s gaze. But not his.
    Gently, reverently she breathed in his scent. There was much that could be learned through scent, and something just wasn’t computing for her.
    She’d thought that maybe with the driving