Page 63 of Dark Dragon’s Mate

Gen-X. Just the thought made Trish’s stomach curdle—they’d tried to kidnap Tristan and Brock not so long ago, along with Tristan’s sister Terin. “I hope it’s not them.”

I don’t know if I hope it is or it isn’t, Emon said. At least I’d know who I was dealing with. If it’s not them, then who the fuck is it?

Trish had no answer to that.

They landed in front of the entrance to the mine, Emon Changing back to human. Trish was about to ask where the dragons were, when she heard them.

Singing.

Deep inside the mine, they were singing the ore out of the mountain. As amazing as Emon’s song had been when he made her wolf for her, this was… she had no words.

It wasn’t just beautiful. It hit her deep in her soul. It was a song to coax the very earth to give up its treasures into the dragons’ keeping. A love song, a song of praise. A song of joy.

The joy flowed out of the song and into her. At the same time, she and Emon reached for each other’s hands and held on. He just stood, listening, a small contented smile on his face.

After she didn’t know how long, the song faded away. Emon picked up a curved horn hanging from a protrusion in the rock, and blew a long note to summon the dragons out.

Trish waited, unable to believe that people who could create a song like that—audible joy—could be evil traitors working with Gen-X.

That was before she met Zakerek.

The Wild Dragon was tall, almost as tall as Emon, with a golden blond mohawk and tattoos on the shaved parts of his scalp.

And a really bad attitude.

“Your Exalted Highness,” he said, giving an exaggerated bow. The other two dragons gave small, jerky, obviously reluctant bows of their own. They were all dressed in boots and work pants, no shirts.

Damn. Dragons really were the hottest shifters anywhere. And Trish lived with a pack of wolves that were drop-dead gorgeous.

Zakerek went on, “What brings you to grace our poor, insignificant selves with your presence today?”

His tone was sarcastic and his eyes were resentful—dark and angry, with red flames dancing in the pupils.

“The monthly reports are late, and so is the ore shipment,” Emon said. “Also, more sheep have gone missing, and someone has been lurking around the castle. Cloaked. Do you know anything about that, by some chance?”

The other two dragons shuffled back and forth and exchanged glances, but Zakerek just stared defiantly at Emon. “What if we did?” he said. “You’re clearly not smart enough to catch us. So maybe you’re not smart enough to rule over us, either. I know you can’t imagine us finding any place nicer than here—” he waved his hand expansively at the desolate land, and the rough camp beyond— “but you’d be shocked to learn that other people besides yourself enjoy fine meals and exotic entertainment.”

He fixed his eyes on Trish, insolently looking her up and down. Emon growled, and the other two dragons looked uncomfortable.

Emon gazed from one to the other of them, eyes narrowed. Then he looked directly at one of the other dragons. “Cazbek, did you take my sheep or sneak into my castle?”

The dragon looked startled, then wary. “No, your highness.”

He fixed his eyes on the other one. “Mikah, did you take my sheep or sneak into my castle?”

“No, your highness.” He didn’t meet Emon’s eyes, but Trish, at least, couldn’t hear a lie in his voice.

Emon said, “Zakerek, a word with you in private.”

He walked Zakerek off to one side, leaving Trish with the other two dragons, who looked even more uncomfortable now—though not as uncomfortable as she felt.

Cazbek said, “You’re one of those wolves, aren’t you. The ones with mind powers. Stay out of my head.” Before she could explain that she wasn’t the one with the mind powers, he stalked off to a barrel of water standing by the mine entrance and started sluicing himself down, washing some of the dirt off his chest. Even though Trish’s heart belonged to Emon, she had trouble tearing her gaze away.

Mikah was watching her, amusement on his face. He came over to stand next to her. Trish watched him warily, but Emon was within shouting distance, having a low-voiced argument with Zakerek.

“I’m Mikah,” he said, holding out his hand.

Trish shook it. “I’m Trish.” She almost said, “Of the Silverlake pack,” but realized she didn’t know if that was quite true anymore. Officially, Jace hadn’t released her from the pack, but she belonged with Emon.