The urge to rise, hunt down Mack, and smite him was one he could barely contain. This woman was bringing out the beast in him. That was dangerous. The dragon side of him grumbled at being denied, but the human part held him back.

  She removed a pack from her back and sat on the floor with her head buried in her hands, rocking back and forth. For the longest time, all he could hear was her steady breathing.

  “What are you going to do?” That gave him a jolt until he realized she was talking to herself again. “Are you going to just sit here and die? No, no you’re not. Wait, my phone.” She rummaged around in her pocket and produced a small rectangle. It lit up when she touched it. “Damn it.” She held it up and moved it from side to side. “No signal, not in the middle of a freaking cave.” It went back into her pocket.

  She pulled her pack closer and opened it. “You have a sleeping bag, some food, and water. That will buy you a couple of days. You’re strong. You can dig your way out.” The light flickered. “Don’t you dare go out.” She shone it around the cavern. He closed his eye before it got to his face. It lingered there before moving on. He cracked his eye again, eager for another look.

  Dirty and disheveled, she was still attractive. For the first time, he took a good look at her as a woman and not just as the person who’d disturbed his sleep. She was tall and slender with slight curves. Her hair was short and could be dark brown or black, hard to tell with so much dust covering it. The few clean spots of skin on her face appeared smooth and unblemished. Her lips were full, her nose slender, her jaw slightly pointed.

  “You did not see the statue blink and look at you,” she muttered. “That was exhaustion and imagination, or maybe Mack pumped some sort of gas into the air to make me hallucinate. The cave-in wasn’t caused by an ancient curse, but by man.”

  It was fascinating the way she answered her own questions, reasoned everything out, and encouraged herself. Her courage in the face of overwhelming odds was admirable.

  She took out a bottle and drank deeply before capping it. “Time to get to work.” She pulled herself to her feet and disappeared. From the sound of things, she was going to try to dig her way out.

  He closed his eye, ignoring the twinge of sympathy stirring with him.

  Human problems weren’t his concern.

  Chapter Two

  The jagged rock slipped from her sweaty, bloody hands. She barely yanked her foot out of the way before it smashed down on it. She hadn’t been as lucky a few other times but, thankfully, hadn’t broken anything. At least she didn’t think she had. It was difficult to tell—she hurt everywhere.

  According to her watch, she’d been digging for hours. She needed to eat and rest, even though pure terror was pushing her to claw at the rocks until she found a way out. That wasn’t going to happen tonight, maybe not even tomorrow.

  She swiped at the tear trailing down her cheek. She wasn’t crying, not really, but every now and then a single drop rolled down her face. Crying solved nothing. Life had taught her that a long time ago. Actions mattered.

  “You need to eat.” And doctor her wounds. She flexed her fingers, wincing when the raw, tender skin pulled.

  She swayed, caught in a dreamlike state, barely catching herself as she tilted to one side. “Definitely time for food and rest.” It took every ounce of courage she possessed to walk back to the open cavern, away from possible freedom.

  Nothing had changed, but the air was clearer, the dust having settled. The dragon sculpture drew her. “This is your fault.” She rapped him on the side of the head. “Ouch. Crap.” She shook her hand. “You’ve got a hard head, you know that?”

  She surveyed the space, something she hadn’t done up until now. The statue took up about half. That left plenty of room for her to camp. At least she had company, even if it was made of stone.

  A slightly hysterical laugh rose from within her. “Why is everything so hard? No, stop that.” She scrubbed at her eyes, not worrying about the dirt she was rubbing on her face. She couldn’t get any worse. “No giving in to self-pity. You have so much to be grateful for. You’re still alive.”

  Mack had meant to kill her. He’d led her here, all the while planning to trap her in the cave. Who did something like that? A shudder shook her entire body. None of this made any sense. Time enough to sort it out if—scratch that—when she escaped.

  On that note, she sat down, pulled a small first-aid kit from her pack, and got to work. The antiseptic wipes made the scrapes and blisters burn. Better that than to let them get infected. The quiet was oppressive, her breathing the only sound as she affixed bandages to the worst of the wounds. What would happen when her flashlight went out, leaving her alone, buried in the dark?

  “Don’t think about it. You’ll make it out before that happens.” A clean, dry shirt was a must. She hadn’t changed earlier, which was just as well, since she’d done nothing but sweat. It didn’t take her long to whip off one shirt and pull on another. She didn’t linger. Despite being in a cave, there was a chill. Or maybe it was exhaustion and nerves making her cold, not to mention hungry.

  The chocolate granola bar she retrieved from her bag tasted like heaven. It was tempting to eat more, but she had to conserve. Who knew how long she’d be here? “I have plenty of granola bars, trail mix, and even a few crackers and cheese.” Water was the biggest problem.

  Leaning against the wall, she focused on the silent giant on the other side of the room. “Don’t suppose you know where I can find any water, do you?” No answer. “Didn’t think so.” She tilted her head back and sighed. “What I wouldn’t give for a hot shower. I stink.”

  There was a sense of timelessness in here, as though the outside world didn’t really exist. “You had to have started as one big slab of stone. Maybe whoever made you saw the stone and got inspired.” It seemed not even the possibility of looming death put her curiosity on hold.

  Her mouth opened on a yawn so big her jaw gave a crack. “I need to rest. I’m glad I carried my own sleeping bag.” She rolled it out and crawled inside, resting her head on her pack. It was lumpy but better than the hard ground. “You look more comfortable than I do.” Her hand clenched around the flashlight before she made herself flick the switch, plunging her into absolute darkness.

  The pounding of her heart echoed in her ears. Her breathing grew faster. “I can do this.” This wasn’t the same as night in the outside world. There was starlight in the woods and ambient light in the city. Here there was only a pitch black that seemed to crouch like a monster, ready to swallow her whole.

  Calm wrapped around her like a warm blanket, soothing her. “There’s nothing to fear,” she whispered. “Nothing at all. Good night, dragon.” Exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she fell asleep between one second and the next.

  …

  Finally, he had the peace and quiet needed to think. Awake, she captured all his attention, which was why he’d sent her calming thoughts. It had nothing at all to do with wanting to ease her agitation and fear.

  Disgruntled, he looked inward, searching for answers. There was no telling how long he’d been asleep. It had to be centuries. This woman was not dressed like the ones he’d last seen, and many of her belongings were strange and unfamiliar.

  However much time had passed, it was long enough for his scales to be covered in a stone shell—a side effect of the Deep Sleep of his kind. It was a hibernation, of sorts. One thought to be permanent. In the thousands of years of history, he’d never heard of another drakon waking. It wasn’t a step he’d taken lightly.

  Only the stone around one of his eyes had cracked. He opened it and studied her, his preternatural vision cutting through the pitch black. He couldn’t see her as well as he’d like, but it was enough. Her dirt-stained face was turned toward him, as if seeking comfort from his presence, even in sleep.

  Warmth spread throughout his big body, driving back the chill that had permeated him after so many centuries. The steady rhythm of her heart soothed the dragon side of his nature. The human side of him was awake and had a million questions.

  Who was she? Why was she here? And why had her presence awakened him? What made her different from those who had come before? They’d been nothing more than muted noise in the background, easily ignored, quickly forgotten.

  His name was Lucius, that much he recalled. The Deep Sleep had dimmed his memories. The longer he was awake the more filtered back, but it was a slow process and there were thousands of years to fill in. It would take time, something he had plenty of. Raine’s well-being was more precarious, as she was human and fragile.

  Her breathing was deep and even, but every now and again she gasped and twitched beneath her covering. Was she having a nightmare? What thoughts haunted her sleep? He’d dreamed while he’d slept. Or maybe the images had been real-world events, memories, or simply flights of fancy. No way to know unless he rose.

  No! That wasn’t going to happen. His reason for embracing the Deep Sleep hadn’t changed. The world wasn’t friendly to his kind. Monster was the name he’d been given, and not just by humans. Images of blood and carnage flashed through his mind. Screams from the past echoed in his head. Fear of becoming what they’d called him had driven him to such drastic action. One woman’s life wasn’t worth the cost of what might happen if he chose to walk in the world again.

  She should never have come here. That had been her choice. This was her fate. If he left the peaceful sanctuary of the cave and his rest, the entire world might burn before anyone could stop him—assuming they could.

  He kept trying to access his buried memories, but the sound of her breathing was distracting. It wouldn’t be long until it stopped completely. A week or two at most. Then he’d be alone again, able to rest. It’s what he wanted, right? His heavy heart and churning guts said otherwise.

  This was all her fault for disturbing him. Whatever connection he was experiencing with her had to be some symptom of being jolted out of his rest.

  Her breathing had deepened, become slower, like his. For fuck’s sake, he was breathing in sync with her. Disgruntled, he sent out a blast of anger. She jolted, bolting upright. “What? Where am I?” Fear tinged her voice as she fumbled around. A click and the light came on. “It wasn’t just a bad dream.”

  Shame, an emotion he hadn’t experienced in millennia, filled him. He estimated she’d slept only a matter of hours. Not nearly enough.

  She swallowed heavily, her delicate throat rippling. “I need a bathroom.” Giving a groan, she pushed to her feet. “Not exactly five-star accommodations.” The light flashed over the room. “You can’t pee here. Not where you’re sleeping.” Wrinkling her nose, she wandered deeper into the cave, disappearing around a corner.

  Despite his resolve to stay detached, he inwardly smiled when he heard her singing. The woman was quiet only when she was sleeping and not even then. Her voice rose and fell, slightly off-key, but still somehow charming.

  She returned and sat down on the covering she’d used. “How did you sleep?” she asked. It was getting increasingly difficult not to answer her. It had been so very long since he’d conversed with anyone. The last time had been… A flash of a big man with black hair and myriad tattoos popped into his mind and then disappeared.

  “What’s that? You slept better than I did? I imagine so. You’re used to the cave environment.” She dug out food and began to eat, taking tiny sips from a bottle between bites. “I’m worried about Penelope. She’s my cat. I left her enough food and water for a couple of days. It was only supposed to be an overnight trip to confirm you existed.”

  Fascinated, he watched and listened. Her voice stroked over his scales like a lover’s caress, warm and inviting. The fires of rage and regret that burned within him were muted by her mere presence. It had to be sorcery. There was no other logical explanation. His blood turned chilly in warning.

  Maybe she’d been sent to torment him for his dark past. Most likely, like so many others, she wanted something from him. If so, she’d be disappointed. Others far more powerful had tried and failed to break him.

  “What will happen to her if I don’t make it home?” She swiped at a tear that trickled down her face, sniffed, and squared her shoulders. “I’ll make it out of here. I have to.”

  Her determination thawed the cold indifference inside him. Her concern for a creature not even human warmed him, and it was genuine. The scent of her tears, smell of her fear, and tone of her voice all spoke of love for the cat.

  The longer she was here, the more he itched to break free from his stone shell and speak with her. After finishing her meal, she stood, dusted off the seat of her pants, and headed toward the cave-in. “Watch my stuff while I’m gone.”

  The day passed slowly. Sleep eluded him, his focus entirely on Raine. She was out of sight, but he could hear her, easily imagine her actions. Tirelessly, she worked, moving stone after stone, occasionally swearing when more seemed to fall in. Worry gnawed at his gut when she didn’t stop to eat. Was she drinking?

  Not my problem.

  Finally, her steps grew closer, her boots dragging. He lowered his eyelid, leaving it cracked enough that he could watch her. She dropped down onto the sleeping bag, turned onto her side, and pulled her legs up to her chest, radiating defeat.

  He squeezed his eye shut. A tiny crack appeared at the base of his back foot. She couldn’t give up. Penelope needed her.

  I can help her.

  No good ever came from getting involved with a human. Vivid images of bloodcurdling screams, fire, mayhem, pain, and death flashed before him, but he couldn’t grasp the memories. They were foggy, as though his brain hadn’t fully decided if he was waking up or not and wasn’t willing to make the effort if he was going to drop back into the Deep Sleep.

  Eat, he silently urged. Drink.

  She wrapped her arms around her legs, making herself even smaller. Time passed and a shiver wracked her entire body. “Who am I kidding? I’m going to die here with a stupid stone dragon who won’t even talk to me.” The glare she sent him was fierce. “This is all your fault.” She sniffed and pointed her finger at him.

  At him. He didn’t know whether to smite her or applaud her bravery.

  “If you hadn’t been here, I would never have come. I can’t figure out Mack’s angle. Why lead me all the way out here and trap me with you? The whole ‘an angel told me to do it’ adds another layer of weird. He could’ve killed me on the hike in if all he wanted was my death.”

  She wasn’t wrong. The whole thing seemed an elaborate setup. He waited impatiently, wanting to know more.

  “It must tie in somehow with the grant I got to write my book from—wait for it—the Angel Foundation. That’s not a coincidence. Talk about too good to be true. I should’ve suspected something was up. My field of study isn’t exactly one that gets a lot of funding. I love teaching, don’t get me wrong, but I wanted time to write a book, maybe even two. And the grant was enough for me to take an entire year off work. Yesterday was the first day of my new adventure, and it probably marks the beginning of the end.”

  She lifted her sleeve and rubbed it over her face. “I’m sorry to dump all this on you, but let’s face it. You’re the only one here.”

  Giving a sigh, she leaned her head back and stared at the ceiling. “It’s my own fault for believing in myths and legends. Did you know there are urban legends about werewolves and vampires in North Carolina?” She took a tiny sip of water. “But you’re real. You’re a freaking stone dragon.”

  Her insistence on referring to him as a dragon was beginning to annoy him.

  “Are you based on some prehistoric flying dinosaur? Maybe they found some fossilized bones and this was their interpretation of what you might’ve looked like. Yeah, you’re probably nothing more than a flying dinosaur.”

  The rumble came from deep inside him. Cracks appeared in his stone covering and traveled down to the ground beneath him.

  “Holy crap.” Raine jumped to her feet, her hand pressed to her chest, eyes wide.

  The thick casing that had protected him for centuries crumbled. His limbs were stiff after so long, but there wasn’t enough room for him to stretch, not unless he wanted to bring the ceiling down around them.

  He swiveled his head in her direction. “I’m no dinosaur. I’m a drakon.”

  …

  Raine would have peed her pants if she hadn’t been totally dehydrated. Her heart was doing its best to thump its way out of her chest. She leaned against the wall, her legs turning to jelly.

  “This isn’t happening.” It couldn’t be. “This isn’t real. You’re a hallucination.” She laughed when the truth sunk in. “That’s it. My imagination has finally gotten the better of me. Or maybe there’s some noxious gas building up. More likely I’m running out of air and my brain is playing tricks on me.”

  “You don’t believe in me?” The voice was so deep it made her bones ache.

  “Sure, I do. I believe you’re a hallucination dragon.”

  “Not a dragon, a drakon.”

  Why was her hallucination arguing with her? “What’s the difference, other than a k instead of a g?”

  “A drakon is the son of a dragon and a human female. Dragons came here thousands of years ago from another dimension, mated with humans, and produced sons, always sons. When our sires discovered their DNA hadn’t dominated and we weren’t full-blooded dragons like them, but hybrids, they left us here and returned to their own dimension.”

  He lowered his head, extending his long neck until his breath was a warm puff against her face. “Wow, this hallucination is realistic.” She reached out and stroked the tips of her fingers over his scales. “You’re warm, not cold.”