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But then he sees her. A black wolf creeps through the underbrush below him with her belly close to the ground. She’s after the same elk he is. He freezes in the air with his wings spread wide.

He picks up her scent on the breeze off the creek. It’s Aya’s wolf. Her fur disappears into the shadows. All that catches any light is the silver of her eyes and the tips of her ears where the moon hits them. Not a twig snaps under her paws.

Her wolf looks up at the sky and meets his stare. She drops flat in the brush and bares her throat to him. He feels what she’s asking for in his chest. She wants him to finish it.

My dragon can’t move. All he does is watch his mate’s wolf in her true body while she hunts under him in the dark. The bond yanks tight until he hums with it down to his claws. I’m no help. I’ve forgotten there’s an elk down there at all.

He and I have known Aya for years. We’ve kissed her and fought for her. But her wolf and my dragon have never had this. They’ve only ever circled each other through us. Tonight they’re face-to-face as what they really are.

My dragon comes back to himself. He tucks his wings and dives through the canopy. Branches crack against him on the way down. The elk hears him and bolts. It crashes through the undergrowth and kicks up water from the shallows. The sour stink of its fear hits his nostrils. Aya’s wolf springs aside as he rockets past her. He closes the distance fast. His claws sink into its back and tear it off the ground. It thrashes in his grip, but he clamps his teeth around its neck and snaps it with a hard twist.

It’s dead.

He carries it back through the air to Aya’s wolf, who waits for him with her tail curled around her paws. She sits up tall as he lowers himself to the forest floor. He lays it in front of her.

She doesn’t touch it yet. She keeps her eyes on him. Every tradition says the elk is hers and she feeds first, but her wolf is still asking. He nudges the carcass closer and grunts at her to eat.

She tears into the haunch, crunching straight through the bone. My poor mate hasn’t had a fresh kill in way too long. Blood darkens her muzzle. She has no use for manners.

My dragon doesn’t take a bite. He tracks every mouthful she swallows. I’m as gone over her as he is. Feeding his mate is what he was built for.

A human would call this grotesque, all blood and raw meat. I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Aya feasting on my kill with her wolf and my dragon in the same clearing at last. If anyone ever asks me what sacred means, I’m telling them about tonight.

She licks her chops clean and pushes the carcass toward my dragon with her nose. He eyes her offering with his tail motionless. Mother Fate, she’s feeding him back.

He bites down on the ribs while Aya’s wolf comes around and tears in beside him. Her shoulder brushes his foreleg every time she tugs at the meat. They eat together with the creek running past them and the wind in the trees.

When they’ve had their fill, Aya shifts first. Her fur pulls in, and her body reshapes. She stands naked in the moonlight with blood smeared across her mouth and chin, dark against her brown skin. Her eyes are still glowing silver. Her hair hangs loose and tangled.

My dragon hands me back control with a satisfied rumble. The shift pulls me down to human form in a rush of cracking bone and shrinking scales. I stand across from her with blood on my face.

She’s a mess with dirt caked on her feet and leaves stuck to her calves. She looks wild and absolutely devastating, and I cannot move.

She holds out her hand, but I don’t take it. I gawk at her with my brain gone somewhere I can’t reach. I’m hard as hell, and my dragon isn’t helping. My mate is naked and bloodied in front of me, and I am wrecked.

“Come on,” she says. “Take me home so you can bathe me.” Her scent turns sweet. “Then fuck me.”

I wipe the blood off my lips with my arm. She watches me do it and doesn’t say a word.

She tilts her head and gives me the look while she wiggles her fingers. “Come on, baby,” she coaxes. “I need you.”

I take her hand without waiting for my brain to catch up.

She’s going to be the death of me.

23

AYA

When Ezra finally takes my hand, I pull him through the trees toward the spot where we left our clothes. I’m moving fast because the elk’s blood is drying stiff on my chin, and dirt is caked on the soles of my feet. I want a shower more than anything.

I find my crumpled dress first at the base of the tree where I dropped it. I snatch up my underwear and clutch everything to my chest. Ezra doesn’t spare a glance for his clothes in a heap a little ways off. He heads straight for the duffel bag and digs out a towel and a robe.

I stand there hugging my dirty dress and can’t come up with anything smart to say. He wraps the robe around me and guides my arms into the sleeves. I’m a grown woman, but he’s bundling me up like I’m a pup. My wolf eats it up. He takes the towel to my mouth next and scrubs down my neck in patient strokes. The cloth is rough and warm from his hands. He turns my face to the moonlight, frowns at a spot under my jaw, and goes over it again.

When he’s satisfied, he steps into his sweatpants and stuffs everything into the bag. He slings it over his shoulder and cinches the belt on my robe before he laces his fingers through mine.

We walk back to the cabin without a word. Leaves crunch under my bare feet with the creek trickling somewhere behind us. Every so often he lifts my hand and drags his lips across the back of it. My stomach won’t survive much more of that. He’s smelled different since the hunt, content down to his dragon. My wolf stirs and pushes toward him whenever the breeze carries his scent. As far as she’s concerned, he’s already hers.