“We encountered a few more werewolves. Stragglers from Victor’s makeshift army. We managed to fend them off, then Rowan insisted we go back and find you.” Kiera described how they had started to do this when a figure emerged from the trees. “Your father showed up out of fucking nowhere and told us to go home and prepare for your return. Rowan argued with him, but eventually, we did as he asked.”

“Asked” was a light word for what her father had probably done. A terse demand was more like it. “Did my father bring me back, then?” was her next question.

Kiera shook her head. “It was a male witch. I didn’t catch his name, but Rowan seemed to know who he was.”

Before Stacy had time to question this, Rowan strode into the room, looking exhausted but relatively well given the circumstances of last night’s battle. “I’m happy to see you awake, Stacy. I think you transforming into a dragon and the terror on Victor’s face was the best thing I’ve ever seen.”

Stacy smiled weakly. “That’s huge coming from someone as old as you. I’m sure the entire place going up in flames wasn’t ideal.”

“It got the job done,” Kiera insisted. “That evil prick is gone.”

Rowan turned to Kiera and gestured at her small cauldron. “Are you almost finished with that?”

She handed it over. “Do as you wish. Add your special ingredients.”

Rowan slipped a pouch of what looked like herbs from his pocket and sprinkled them into the small container. Stacy raised a brow.

“Miles, Kiera, and I have been working on an herbal salve to speed your recovery,” the dryad explained as he mixed the concoction, his face a mask of concentration. “Such ancient recipes have been passed down through generations. Though modern medicine has its benefits, nothing beats the natural and magical.”

Rowan’s eyes met hers, and he handed the cauldron back to Kiera so she could begin applying the salve to Stacy’s mostly healed wounds.

“I’ll admit your true healing is thanks to Ethan, who came to help you in the nick of time,” Rowan added. “If he hadn’t done that, I’m afraid we would have lost you.”

Ethan. As relieved as she felt, Stacy’s heart sank. She suspected Ethan had only come because of her father’s intervention. She didn’t know how to feel about that.

Rowan turned to leave before Stacy could ask where Ethan was. “Where are you going?” she queried instead.

He smiled over his shoulder. “To pick up our dear friend Amy from the hospital.”

The woman at his bedroom door scared the shit out of him.

Well, it wasn’t exactly his bedroom door. It was one of many guestrooms in Stacy’s large house, where the dryad brought him at dawn, shortly after Ethan staggered up the driveway with Stacy’s limp form in his arms.

Ethan had known Stacy had a nice home. He’d seen her nice car, for fuck’s sake. He hadn’t imagined this, though. The daughter of Constantine Drakethorn was bound to be wealthy. She hid it from me, he realized. He understood many reasons why, but it still hurt to think about it.

The woman leaning in his doorway gave him a once-over, her sharp eyes seeming to bore into his soul. He wasn’t sure who she was, but he knew she worked for Stacy. That was a good sign, right?

He’d hardly slept. He had tried to, and the bed was the most comfortable thing he had ever laid on, but thoughts of dragons and burning wolves and Victor Corbinelli finally getting what he deserved had filled his mind. He wanted to talk to Stacy.

“She’s awake,” the woman in the doorway announced crisply. “You can see her if you’d like.”

“Y-yes, please.”

The woman moved a strand of hair behind her ear, which was pointed. Fae. Holy shit, Ethan thought. He’d never seen a fae before. He knew they existed, but not here. In other worlds, where they were far, far away. He wished this one was far away. She looked ready to gut him like a fish if he so much as breathed in the wrong direction.

The fae woman turned on her heel and glided away. Part of why he’d been so scared when she showed up was because she made no sound when she approached. He followed her down a hallway bathed in morning light and stopped short at an open door. The room beyond was comfortable and cozy. Inside, Stacy was propped against copious pillows in a wide four-poster bed.

She offered him a smile despite her pale complexion and the exhaustion in her eyes. “You can go, Kiera. Thank you.”

The fae woman, Kiera, dipped her head. Ethan gaped as she folded herself into shadows gathered in a corner and disappeared. It seemed there was more than Stacy’s dragon heritage to get used to, it seemed.

“Sorry about her. I know she can be terrifying. She does that shadow thing to be intimidating, but she’s truly a good person.” Stacy waved toward where Kiera had gone. Ethan remained standing there, eyes wide. “Are you going to stand in the doorway the whole time or come in?” Stacy teased.

He strolled into the room and took the seat beside her bed, a large, comfortable armchair. It was still warm from whoever had sat here last. He noticed an empty bowl and glass on Stacy’s bedside table and the strong scent of herbs in the air. The window was open, and several tiny figures danced on the sill or floated on the breeze into the room.

Sprites. This place didn’t have a shortage of wonders.

“I’m glad to see you doing well,” he confessed. “When I found you last night—or this morning, rather—you were…well, less fine.”

A wan smile crossed Stacy’s lips. “You saw my dragon form, then.”

Not a question, but he nodded.

She blew out a long breath. “I want to thank you for coming to help me. I’m sure my father appeared out of nowhere and spoke in a series of riddles and cryptic clues.”

Ethan’s lips twitched into a grin. “He did do that.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” His voice was lower, softer. “I’m glad he did.”

“He could have done it more normally. Though how can one tell someone their friend is a dragon who’s battling a greedy billionaire and needs their help?”

They both laughed, then Stacy grew solemn. “Thank you for coming and for bringing me back home. I know I have a lot to explain.” She paused, her voice thickening. “I’m sorry for hiding the truth from you before.”

“I understand why you did it,” Ethan replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “You didn’t want to scare me off.”

“The dragon stuff is new to me. Last night was my first time…transforming. I didn’t tell you because I wanted to protect you. I also didn’t want to scare you off, yes. My third reason was I didn’t want to explain anything I didn’t fully understand. But now, I think I can tell you.” She laughed. “Not that I have a choice.”

“Did you plan on ever telling me?” Ethan asked tentatively.

“I think so. I thought about telling you every time we hung out, especially if you were teaching me spells. I was afraid, though. I’m not afraid anymore.”

Ethan took her hand and brushed her knuckles with his thumb. “I have all day to hear your story. Take your time.”

Stacy felt her long conversation with Ethan had gone well despite him having a lot to wrap his mind around. It was late afternoon when she fell asleep again. Ethan said he needed to go home, but he promised to return tomorrow. Stacy had thanked him again before slipping into a deep slumber.

Fortunately, she dreamed of sprites flitting around a fountain and Kiera making more of that delicious soup instead of Victor and werewolves.

She awoke deep in the night to find her room dark except for a single candle on her bedside. The flame illuminated the woman dozing in the armchair by her bed. It was not Kiera sitting there but golden-haired Amy.

Stacy gave a start of surprise and covered her mouth as a sob of relief pushed through her throat. This brought Amy to full consciousness.

She lifted her head with a tired smile. “Stacy, you’re all right.”