Page 1 of Devoted to the Dragon

Prologue

Randi, The Time of the First Shifters

Below me, Erik’s howl rings out from the foothills. Ignoring his protest to slow down, I flap my wings to pick up speed, cutting through the air. The morning is rising, the world lighting in soft oranges and delicate blues.

If we don’t make it home before the start of the ceremony, we risk getting caught. It’s bad enough that I snuck out to fly again, but today is my sister Siya’s horde presentation at the Sunrise Ceremony, and it will be noticeable if I’m late.

When the mountain pass comes into view, I descend, landing on a wide pad carved in the rock. The shift from my dragon is seamless, my scales and wings replaced by my human form as I touch the ground. After tugging on the clothes stashed in the cubby carved into the wall, I race toward the bridge that leads to the first entrance into our mountain territory.

“Wait up,” Erik calls from behind.

I look at him over my shoulder, almost tripping from how his muscles flex as he hops into his leathers. When he’s a wolf, it’s easy to pretend that my childhood friend hasn’t become a handsome man. When he’s half naked and grinning at me as though he’s caught a rabbit?Not so much.

I swallow around the flash of heat in my throat. “Hurry, then. If Grandma Ava catches us?—”

“We’ll be working in the garden all week.” Erik groans, picking up the pace behind me.

We’re quiet as we move through the village tunnels, racing against the rising dawn. Erik's firm grip on my shoulder tugs me to him just before we reach the large courtyard of the village square. Up close, Erik is still the same boy I’ve always known, his signature smirk crossing his full lips.

“I know your sister’s ceremony is today, but tomorrow, the Thunder starts. I wanted to tell you”—he shuffles nervously and grabs my hand—“that I plan to be the first to wear your claw.”

My belly swoops with excitement. Erik means to become a mate contender and win a place in my horde. I had hoped as much, but my dragon refuses to confirm my suspicions until the Thunder. Before I can respond, he’s dragging me along behind him.

“I can’t believe I made you speechless,” he jokes, his deep voice colored with self-satisfied amusement.

“Tease me again, and we can practice how well you take my claw,” I tease back.

He lets out a booming laugh, throwing back his head. “I can’t wait for our Thunder.”

We race past the final walkway, the two of us laughing as we spill into the courtyard.

The sound dies on my lips, his words forgotten as a tangy, coppery stench hits me all at once. The scent is a swift jab to the throat, knocking me back.

I blink, disbelieving.

When I open my eyes, it’s still there. I was hoping it was a cruel trick of the mind, but the horror in Erik’s eyes confirms my fears.

The courtyard’s cheerful hanging floral bouquets and ceremony decorations are shocking against the scent and sight of so much blood.

All around us, the village lies slain, chests ripped open.

A deep voice thunders from the other side of the courtyard, and from the shadows of the tunnel, one of my sister Siya’s mates, Jor, emerges, his shadows writhing and spitting around him. He opens his arms, calling me to him.

Seeing him breaks me, and I run, pleading incoherent questions.

Siya and her horde must be alive.They must have been waiting to be announced…

It happens so fast. I’m running to Jor one moment, and the next, Erik’s desperate voice yells, “Run.”

Erik shifts, leaping for Jor, fangs ready. But Erik doesn’t make it because Jor—my sister’s mate, a man who has lived with us for the last three moon cycles, who is funny and doting—strikes. His wispy black shadows plunge into Erik’s chest and rip out his heart.

The shock of seeing Erik fall limp sends me to my knees. Others scamper into the courtyard from the tunnels, but they don’t bring relief. These men wear strange metal on their chests.

“Remember, we need her heart,” Jor commands, his voice devoid of its previous warmth and familiarity.

I claw and crawl my way back to my feet, barely able to think above the roaring in my ears and the racing of my heart.

Arrows launch from the strange men.

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