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  Magyck crackled in the air, sending blue streaks in all directions. With a howl of anguish Lumos punched the wood panelling. The dark surface cracked, splintering into jagged shards of oak. An overwhelming fear curled in his belly.

  “We must put the safety of our mate in the paws of an ignorant cat. Gods, dragon, have you lost your wits?”

  “It is more efficient to wait for a direction.”

  “No, it is not.” Lumos paced up and down the room. “Ask the cat if he knows the name of the king of the realm, or the name of the man who banished Thalia.” Long minutes passed. Lumos’ skin burned, sweat trickled off his chin and steam poured from his nostrils. He removed his jacket and flung it over a chair.

  “Damn it, dragon—how much longer?”

  “The king is Garro. The man Thalia calls Father. This man is responsible for her banishment.”

  Lumos turned towards the rows of bookcases. He raised a hand and a large leather-bound volume floated from a high shelf to land softly on the table. The pages turned swiftly then stopped. Lumos scanned the page. He ran a finger down the list of Nomag realms. Kings with the name of Garro ruled three realms, Anast, Allerie, and Broclarre. Lumos rubbed the back of his neck.

  “It is six months to the challenge and these realms are in opposite directions. Cast out your mind, dragon. See if you can find anyone with knowledge of these realms. We could travel through a circle of light with speed.”

  Minutes ticked by before the Nightdragon responded. “There is no one to guide us into those realms. We must use the Gates.”

  Lumos growled. Steam flowed from his nostrils. Damn!

  “What ails you Lumos?” Lucinda peered through the library door. “You have been beastly of late.” She waved a hand towards the wall. “There, I have repaired the damage. Now, tell me why you have ignored every Faerie’s offer to share your bed?”

  Lumos turned to Lucinda. The Faerie held as much allure as a bronze statue. Since hearing the Dragonsong no female had beguiled him with her charms. “What I do does not concern you. In fact, I’m leaving Drakka for a while.” Lumos met Lucinda’s sullen pout. “I’m going in search of my mate and her name is Thalia.”

  “A mate? Gods, Lumos, you have to be joking.” Lucinda’s mouth turned down at the edges. She moved to Lumos’ side and peered at the open page. “Will you return in time for the challenge?”

  Lumos raised an eyebrow. “Aye, I will.” He closed the book and sent it back to the shelf. “I must leave at once. I would ask you to give a message to the king when he returns from hunting. Inform him I’m travelling to Anast and Allerie. The journey will take me two months. If I haven’t found Thalia, I’ll return home and wait until the next full moon to replenish my magyck before continuing my search in Broclarre.”

  “Your dragon’s brain must be addled.” Lucinda laughed. “Must you put your trust in a beast who cannot determine the direction of a mate’s scent? If he were not part of you, one would believe him in league with Kird.”

  With a grunt, Lumos brushed by Lucinda and headed for the door. “Will you deliver my message to the king or not?”

  “Aye, you’re searching for a mate named Thalia. You’re going to Anast and Allerie, and will be back in two months.” Lucinda pursed her lips. “Ah yes, and if you haven’t found this mysterious Faerie in either of those realms you will wait here until the next full moon to go to Broclarre.”

  “The female is angry with you. You must calm the waters before you leave.” The Nightdragon purred in Lumos’ mind. “Lucinda believes she is a favourite of yours.”

  “I have no favourites, dragon. Thalia is my only concern. Although I will follow your advice as I don’t intend to make Lucinda my enemy.” Lumos turned and casually leaned one shoulder against the doorframe.

  “I’ll treasure the time we had together but you knew this day would come. You have a mate out there, too, and it’s only a matter of time before he finds you.” He smiled. “You have many lovers to satisfy you—let us part in friendship.”

  “But I wanted you, Lumos,” Lucinda whined. “I wanted to be queen one day and rule beside you.” Lucinda lifted her chin. “We were good together.” She took Lumos’ jacket from the back of the chair and pressed it to her nose.

  “Aye, in bed perhaps, but we were not matched by the goddess.” Lumos touched her cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ve no intention of hurting you but my heart is bound to another, as yours will be in time.” He frowned. “Do not say you love me, for I know this is a lie. We can never be together as mates. If I remained with you, I could never make love to you again.” He sighed. “My body, my mind and soul belong to Thalia.”

  “You love a female you have never laid eyes on?” Luciana curled her lip. Her eyes flashed with contempt. “Then go—I’ve more than enough lovers to take your place.”

  “This I know. Goodbye, Lucinda.” Lumos gave a bow. He turned down the hallway and stepped out onto the balcony. He gazed down over the city of Drakka and made a silent vow to return for the challenge. With so little time and so many miles to travel he willed his mind to remain focused. Thalia had become his reason for living. He leapt onto the balcony handrail, spread his wings, and became one with the Nightdragon.

  “Come, dragon, there is no time to lose. We must away to Anast.”

  Chapter Three

  The Singing Forest

  Thalia lay on her back on the edge of the meadow and watched the sunshine peek through the spiked leaves of the tall ash tree. Each day over the last three months, she had returned to this tree to share its healing strength.

  She had survived.

  Time had moved swiftly. Why, it seemed as if only a few days had passed since she had fallen from the wagon at the foot of this healing tree and lay for the entire day on the brown, leaf-strewn forest floor. The tree had showered her with twirling, winged seeds as if trying to keep her conscious. She stared at the pale grey bark and remembered the first time she had trailed her fingertips over the lattice of ridges and fissures.

  The dark days with Erik’s men still disturbed her sleep. The shadows in her small cottage often brought back memories of shame and degradation. She pushed the evil men to the back of her mind. I survived and I need never set eyes on a man again.

  Here in daylight, serenity surrounded her within the beauty of the Singing Forest. She watched birds chatter and move between the boughs, jumping from elm to prickly holly. From time to time, field mice would venture too close to Brew, twitch their large ears, and scuttle back to their homes.

  Brew never left her side for very long. Thalia sighed and reached for the sleek black cat. “Brew?” She rolled into a sitting position and searched the meadow. “Brew, where are you?” She got to her feet and peered into the long shadows cloaking the forest. Perhaps he had left to hunt. She bent to pick up her basket, and rearranged the collection of herbs and mushrooms piled on top of a mass of nuts. Today she had visited the walnut tree and collected the splitting green fruit. In truth the walnut tree had been her salvation from hunger. She patted the lattice grey bark of the ash tree. “I will return tomorrow.”

  Taking the normal path towards the little cottage, Thalia broke into song. Today everything in the forest celebrated summer. The rich scent of flowers, damp leaves and the tang of raspberries surrounded her. Ferns, lush and green sprouted in huge clumps. Brightly coloured fungi adorned moss covered trees and delicate white butterfly orchids bloomed in abundance. Magyck filled her, completed her, and, lately, burst forth in uncontrollable streams. She pushed a lock of hair behind one ear and sighed. The previous night she had unsuccessfully tried a spell to produce a small light globe. Without warning, uncontrolled magyck had bounced out of the window and hit the apple tree, ripening the fruit in an instant. The few spells she practised daily would not consume this abundance of power. She stopped to rest the heavy basket on a tree stump and gazed up through the green canopy of trees. I wish I had someone to teach me, Cymbeline.

  What was that? Every muscle froze. The
hair on the back of her neck bristled. She strained her ears to catch the sound. The wind tousled her hair and with the rustling of leaves came the deep voice of—a man. Panic closed Thalia’s throat, stifling a scream. She gripped a silver birch tree, fighting for breath. A man—here in the Singing Forest. How could this be possible?

  Men feared this forest. The evil Erik, his expression belying the trepidation inside, had left Thalia on the edge of the woods, too afraid to step beneath the shade of the trees in this sacred place. She had driven the wagon with her meagre belongings away from the soldiers at a gallop, not caring for her own safety. No. This place of the goddess Cymbeline, and now her sanctuary, would not allow a man to enter.

  The voice came again. Thalia turned her head. The Singing Forest covered many miles, and she had yet to explore in that direction. Taking hesitant steps she moved along the unfamiliar path. A mass of yellow butterflies rose up from a cluster of dog violets and danced on the breeze. The sound came again, a soft voice speaking in deep, melodic tones.

  Thalia turned to stare across a small, grassy clearing dotted with blue wing-faced orchids and waves of buttercups. On the perimeter of the woods stood a giant of a man not a pace away from Brew. Oh goddess. She swallowed and pressed hard against the trunk of an ancient oak tree. Taking a deep breath she peeked through the surrounding bracken. Heartbeat pounding in her ears, she drew her magyck around her, and slipped from tree to tree to get closer. You will not hurt my cat. Fear gripped her belly. The king sent this man. No other knows I live in the Singing Forest. Bile rushed up the back of her throat. She fought the desire to run. I cannot leave Brew with this stranger.

  The man bent at the waist and rested his large hands on his hips, his soft words carried on the breeze. He is speaking to Brew. Thalia gawked at the stranger in awe. Long, black hair with a raven’s sheen hung down to conceal his face and fell over broad shoulders like black water. Thalia moved closer, straining her ears to catch the man’s words. The summer wind carried the scent of him, of pine forests and fire. Shaking with fear, Thalia admired his strong, sculpted body encased in leather so fine the garment fitted like a second skin. His jerkin exposed golden skin stretched over hard muscle. Silver bands surrounded both of the stranger’s wrists.

  Thalia turned to run, her feet leaden. She hesitated. How could she leave Brew to the mercy of this man? Fear strangled her. She turned back. I need a spell to defend us against this stranger. Grinding her teeth she glanced around the tree and met the stranger’s troubled gaze. Mesmerised by the man’s almond-shaped, green, luminescent eyes, and striking features, Thalia stared at him.

  “I know you’re there. I can see you. Come out, I won’t hurt you.” The man opened his arms wide. “I’m trapped within this magyck circle. I cannot leave.” He pushed the long, glossy hair away from his face to reveal tall, pointed ears. “See? I am of the forest. Blessed by the gods as you are, and I bring you no harm, on my oath.”

  Surprised to see Brew move in a figure of eight between the man’s legs, Thalia bit her bottom lip. Her loyal cat always warned her of danger and he seemed to like this stranger. Trembling, she stepped from the safety of the tree. “Who are you and why are you in my forest?”

  “I am Lumos and I’m imprisoned here by the hand of the dark Magus.” He lifted his chin. “I speak the truth, Thalia, the gods my witness.”

  Gathering her wits, she cleared her throat. “How do you know my name?”

  The man stared at her as if she were a half-wit.

  “I’ve had a long conversation with Brew.” Lumos raised an eyebrow. “I understand your reluctance to speak to me and I would not have intruded on your privacy had not my plight been most urgent. Will you cast a spell to set me free?”

  Thalia wrung her hands. Indecision tore at her mind. Should she try to help this man? If so—how? She had no knowledge of a dark Magus or what spells were required to break a magyck circle. What if Lumos was like the other men and wanted to use her for his pleasure? She shuddered. The memories of Erik and his men, the countless rapes she had endured replayed in her mind. “No… I c-can’t.” She turned and ran, blindly crashing through the undergrowth, running, running with nowhere to hide.

  Shaking his head, Lumos stared after the witch. Little less than a child, the female moved with grace and speed. Gold streaked her waist-length, chestnut hair and with every stride the glossy strands caught fire in the dappled sunlight. The female’s scent enticed him to a point of madness. One whiff and his cock had become rock hard. His balls had drawn up so tightly they ached. He recognised the tantalising, female allure like an echo in his subconscious. There could be no doubt that this timid, gentle creature was the mate he yearned for, gods help him. If only he had listened to the Nightdragon and had found the witch earlier, he could have saved her from Garro’s men. He swallowed hard. The pain radiating from Thalia stabbed at his heart. Her face held an innocent beauty, but her eyes—gods—in her gentle gaze lay a sadness that burned deep into his soul. He rubbed the back of his neck and waved a hand at Brew. “Go with her, friend, she needs your comfort.”

  “She needs a friend like you, Lumos, to let her know that a male can offer gentleness. I cannot give her what she needs. She does not hear my mind as you do.”

  “We need each other, the dragon and the butterfly.” Lumos rubbed his chin. “Gods, it will take a miracle for her to trust me enough to set me free, let alone the journey we must make together. I must be in Drakka in three months.”

  “My mistress is stronger than you think.” Brew blinked. “She has great compassion. I am sure she will overcome her fear and help you. It is in her nature to do so.”

  Lumos crouched down and rubbed the cat’s ears. “Then we must convince her to trust me. Go now and find her. I fear she believes me a threat.” He stood and watched the cat bound into the undergrowth.

  Damn these silver bands. How must I convince the sweet butterfly of my true self without magyck? He growled. Nomags—those non-magic species that called themselves human—had committed these unforgiveable atrocities upon this female. Yet where was the humanity in such treatment of one so innocent? Enraged by the tale the cat had told of the young witch’s rape, Lumos slammed a fist into the palm of his hand. Steam flowed from his nose, surrounding him in a white cloud. Birds screeched and took from the trees in noisy flight. All here knew him and sensed the power that rumbled deep within. He wanted to roar and let the dragon free. His being ached to seek vengeance on the men who had trampled his innocent butterfly, Thalia.

  Unable to control his anger, Lumos paced the clearing to test the boundaries of his prison. His skin grew hot. A sheen of sweat glistened on his forearms. He cursed the silver bands preventing his escape, his magyck, his revenge. The Magus of Fullmount would pay for capturing the protector of gods—the Dragonfae.

  * * * *

  Running wildly, Thalia searched for a place to hide. Disregarding the brambles tearing at her hair she crawled under a blackberry bush and into a small cavern occupied by a sleeping hedgehog. She blinked into the shadows, gazing around her hiding place and gasping in the musty air. All around her, dark brown stems knitted together, blocking out the sunlight. Safely hidden in the comforting twilight, she lay down, hugging her knees, and watched spiders weave webs in the tangled branches. The hedgehog stirred, opened one little, beady, brown eye, licked his long snout, and rolled into a prickly ball.

  Lumos. A mysterious name like no other, to be sure, and he did have delightfully pointed ears. The stranger stood head and shoulders taller than the king’s champion and such muscles. Gods, could he be an Elf? Nell had mentioned such creatures existed in the forest but her description had been of a small-boned male. A Fae? Yes, she recalled the stories of the rare, beautiful creatures that lived in a different realm, and only visited the humans in time of great trouble. However, the man had no wings. Lumos had mentioned that the Magus of Fullmount had trapped him there. The Magus? Why would a dark wizard trap Lumos there in the Singing Forest, a place of s
anctuary and forbidden to men? Forbidden for man—not Fae or other creatures of magyck. Then it is true—Lumos is a creature of magyck.

  The memory of Lumos’ strong, muscular body sent a quiver deep inside Thalia’s core. Her nipples had ached at the sight of him. Not like other men, who carried the stink of sweat and grime, Lumos’ unique scent of pine forests with a hint of smoke had confused her senses. Gods, he had drawn her to him with those amazing eyes, that soft as molasses voice. Confusion curled in her mind. She clenched her fists in anger. I am a fool. No matter how friendly he appears, this Fae is a man and men only want to use me to satisfy their unholy lust.

  With a sigh, she watched a large spider bind a moth in a silken shroud and carefully deposit the neat bundle inside a large web. Thalia shuddered. Gods, she hated spiders. She gazed out of the small gap to see Brew pushing his way through the grass towards her. The cat let out a long purr and rubbed his burr-covered head against her chin. She tugged at the prickles in the cat’s fur and met his eyes.

  “Brew… I am so glad to see you. I thought that stranger would hurt you.” She stroked the cat’s sleek coat. “I should never have left you alone. I’m sorry. I find myself befuddled with one part of me wanting to run away and the other part insisting I help Lumos.” Thalia stroked the cat’s ears. “What am I to do about the stranger?”

  With a string of short mews and tail held in a question mark Brew turned and walked out into the sunlight. The cat stopped, turned, and pinned her with its orange orbs, one paw raised mid-step. “Okay, I’m coming.” Thalia crawled after the cat and stared around at the unfamiliar pathway. She stumbled to her feet, brushing at cobwebs stuck in her hair. Her face grew hot. Embarrassed by her childish reaction to Lumos she tossed her head. “Do you know the way back to the cottage?”

  Obviously you do. Thalia followed the retreating cat through the forest. “I know I acted a little impulsively but that man… Lumos… Oh, I know he’s trapped in a magyck circle but…” She stopped and hit her palm to her forehead. “Gods, I am such a fool. How long had the man been trapped in the circle? For a day, or perhaps as long as a week? Is that why you went to him, Brew? Is he starving to death or perhaps dying from thirst?”