PROLOGUE

Iceland, 1871 

           Every dreki dreamed of meeting their true mate, the other piece of their soul, but when the almighty Blackfrost laid eyes upon his, he knew the Great Goddess had gotten it wrong.

            It happened on All Souls Day.

            Bonfires burned on the mountains surrounding Hekla, the enormous volcano where the great court of the Zini clan who ruled Iceland resided. The dreki court inside the volcano was a world outside the natural one, a bubble in time and space formed of pure Chaos magic. Dreki soared around Hekla's peaks, alighting on the tallest crags and spreading their wings as they greeted the actinic blue spirit forms of those dreki who'd moved beyond mortality. All Souls Day. The one day of the year where their long-dead ancestors rode the skies above Hekla, instead of the horizon. 

            Sirius Blackfrost stalked through the crowds of dreki, feeling eyes scurry away from him as if they did not dare linger.

            And the first drift of a female's scent crossed his path, stopping him in midstride.

            Her.

            The woman who owned the other half of his soul.

            Every male instinct he owned suddenly clamored at him, demanding he follow that scent. The dreki within scraped its claws on the inside of his skin, hissing its claim: Mine.

            Dreki males were always the ones who knew first, but he'd never expected it to be this intense, this instant.

            And a part of him had always wondered if he would ever be blessed with so great a gift, cursed as he was.

            A mate. His soul-mate. Damn it, where was she?

            How had he not scented her before?

            Was she new to the court?

            Sirius could smell her despite the press and crush of bodies, the wine, the roasted meats. His dreki honed in upon that single thread of scent, picking out its trail and following it like the predator he was.

            It led him directly toward the delegation from Norway.

            King Harald and his three daughters stood apart from the Zini dreki, watching the celebrations carefully. Harald had been close allies with the previous dreki king, and made it clear he disapproved of the current ruling queen.

            You and me both, Harald.

            But Sirius didn't give a damn about Harald.

            Or the queen.

            No, his gaze raked across the three daughters. It had to be someone he'd never seen before, which left these outsiders. Breath catching in anticipation, he surveyed them with a hungry glance.

            A blonde, a redhead, and a brunette who narrowed her eyes upon him as if she caught a hint of his predatory intentions and didn't like it at all.

            “Ah, Sirius.” His elder brother, Magnus, already sought to ingratiate himself among the newcomers. Though they'd been born from the same mother, Sirius had always been aware this male saw him as a threat.

            But until this day, he'd never considered Magnus to be competition.

            “Magnus.”

            The pair of them shared a razor-sharp smile. He never felt this way with his youngest brother, Andri. 

            “Allow me to introduce King Harald and his daughters.” Magnus gestured, and Sirius tensed at the thought of another male so near to what belonged to him. “King Harald, this is my brother, the Blackfrost.”

            “A worthy male,” King Harald replied, his eyes dark and clever. “Your reputation precedes you, Sirius. They say you've never been beaten in battle. Would you care to duel before our visit is over?”

            “Of course. Though perhaps I should wait until our father's business with you is concluded.” Sirius flashed a hint of a smile.       

            Harald laughed, clasping hands with him. “Aye, they said you're as arrogant as they come too. I look forward to it.”

            Magnus lifted the hand of the most beautiful of the princesses. The blonde. “Sweet Aslaug, as radiant as the sun itself.”

            The young dreki woman blushed and curtsied, her golden hair tumbling down her back in loose waves. “A pleasure, my prince. Your brother's told us much about you.”

            I'll bet. “Don't trust a word he says, Your Highness. They say dreki cannot lie, but I suspect Magnus has the blood of a lawyer in his veins somewhere.”

            She tittered. “He said you're a dark, glowering storm cloud, though I see little sign of it so far.”

            “I'd rather be a storm than a… little squall,” he replied, giving her his most dangerous smile.

            Aslaug blushed furiously as she took his meaning.

            He graced Magnus with a wink—earning a glare in return—and accepted Aslaug's hand to press a kiss upon the back of it, even as he breathed in her scent. Not her. Instantly, his smile faded and he turned to the second daughter eagerly.

            “Fair Siv.” Magnus gestured to the redhead. “Who burns like Fire itself.”

            Red-gold hair was woven into a crown of plaits. Sirius gained a good look at them, for she barely dared lift her eyes to his and her scent reeked of nervousness.

            “Laying it on a bit thick, aren't we?” Sirius told his brother on a psychic link the others couldn't hear as he bent and kissed Siv's hand. “A delight, Fair Siv.”

            Not her, either.

            Thank goodness. She'd probably faint if she managed to meet his eyes. Imagine trying to bed her? He preferred his women bold, not meek and frightened.

            “Father told me to charm them,”Magnus replied, without losing his wolfish smile. “He wants one of them mated into our bloodlines. It will keep Harald from bleating like a stuck pig about the fucking king's death. It's all he speaks of.”

            The king's death. Sirius's smile slipped as his brother's barb flew true. Somehow he resurrected it as he made his way to the last of Harald's daughters. Nothing could darken his mood with the scent of his true mate in his nostrils, and one last, dark-haired drekiprincess to pursue….

            Not even thoughts of murder.

            A serving maid entered the peripheral of his vision, kneeling before the last princess, a pair of golden goblets on the tray she held. Sirius was forced around her, curse the girl. His heart skipped a beat as he locked eyes upon the final daughter of King Harald.

            Dark of hair and dusky-skinned, she paled beside her sister's fair beauty, but those raven-dark eyes gleamed with intelligence.

            With challenge.

            This one. A hawk beside a pair of pretty doves. Yes, this one was worthy of his pursuit. He felt almost breathless with anticipation.

            Magnus gestured magnanimously, “And last but not least—”

            “I am Solveig,” the final dreki princess said, holding out a hand to stop Sirius from reaching for hers. “The Fierce, if I may save your brother his breath.”

            Fierce? Now that was more like it.

            The scent he sought curled around her, as fresh as the spring air gliding over the mountains. Sirius stared into her dark eyes, a little perplexed. He'd expected a jolt. A lance of lightning when he laid eyes upon her, but there was nothing but the slight arrogant arch of her brow.

            “Not a delight or a pleasure?” Solveig mocked him. “Or has the sight of my face stolen your tongue? Granted, I am not as fair as my sisters.”

            “Forgive me.” Something was wrong. He needed to breathe in her scent. “But you are quite wrong. You are lovely. Enough to momentarily steal my wits.”

            “Really?”Magnus drawled privately. “She's a hag, compared to the others.”

            Magnus had no concept of beauty. Capturing her hand, Sirius somehow forced a smile when he felt nothing.

            Desperately, his lips brushed the back of her hand and he breathed her in, finding the scent of wild moors and stormy winds. A scent both wild and dangerous, but not the one he sought. 

            Releasing Solveig's hand, he fought a snarl as he straightened. Damn it, what mockery was this?

            Where was she?

            The scent was righthere….

            “Wine for the princesses,” he snapped to the drekling servant girl who knelt beside them.

            Blanching with nervousness, the servant stood and brought her tray closer. He reached for one of the golden goblets on her tray just as she did.

            Their fingers brushed.

            And the spark that had been missing with all three princesses suddenly ignited between them, like lightning lancing through the faintest brush of their skin.

            Her.

            Sirius's heart stopped dead in his chest as he jerked his hand back. The scent wasn't coming from the princess.

            It was coming from the serving girl.

            Pure, absolute horror filled him as he met those startled eyes.

            He took her in once. Again. Big, brown eyes lay framed by a set of indecent lashes. Her hair gleamed like dull copper, braided back so strictly it drew the skin on her forehead tight. She barely came up to his shoulder, and her cheeks were dotted with freckles that betrayed the human half of her bloodlines.

            Halfhuman.

            Drekling.

            Powerless and unable to shift into a drekiform.

            Barely tolerated at court for their bastardized bloodlines.

            A choked sound echoed in his throat. His father would kill her if he gained even an inkling of what she meant to Sirius. And he'd be struck from the court, banished if he dared even look in her direction.

            This couldn't be.

            The drekling sucked in a sharp breath as if she felt it too, and the tray slid dangerously askew. Sirius moved to catch it at the same time she did and there was a jolt, goblets rocking precariously.

            Magnus took a step back, “What in the name of Loki—”

            Wine splashed from one of the goblets all over his brother's shirt, trousers and boots. Magnus gaped, holding his dripping hand out in horror.

            Tiamat's breath. Magnus's temper was precarious enough as it was, without humiliating him in front of adrekiking and his daughters.

            King Harald laughed. “It almost looks like blood all over your hands, Magnus.”

            “An omen, perhaps?” This from Solveig.

            “Curse you,” Magnus snapped, flicking wine off his fingers. His face mottled with rage as he locked eyes on the drekling. “Are you stupid, girl? Or just clumsy?”

            Magnus lifted his hand to backhand her, and a sudden rage came over Sirius.

            He caught his brother's wrist with a resounding slap, barely realizing he'd moved until it was too late. The muscle in his biceps tensed as he pushed a little to make his brother back off. It was as if his body obeyed someone else. An instinctual snarl growled from his throat, both a warning and a claim.

            He couldn't afford for it to sound like a claim.

            Kill him. Take her.

            A riotous cacophony of impulses fired through his synapses, driven by the thought of another male anywhere near his mate. And it would get her killed. Sirius choked down all his mating instincts with an iron will.

            “Brother?“

            Sirius slowly pushed his brother's hand away and stepped back to put some distance between them before this turned deadly.

            They'd never been friends—competitors who stood side by side occasionally, should the need arise—but somehow the pair of them had managed to sidestep each other all these years.

            His brother was the most formidable drekimale at court, carving a swathe through challengers to see himself head of the unspoken court ranking.

            But both of them knew what Sirius could do with his powers.

            Magnus had never dared challenge him directly, and Sirius had never given him reason to. A fight between the two of them could tear half the court to pieces.

            But he could see the rage firing in his brother's eyes.

            “We don't hit women,” Sirius said softly.

            “She's a drekling, brother. She's nothing.”

            He had to salvage this somehow. If Magnus guessed what had driven him to move before he even thought, there would be blood spilled. Sirius would have stood against the blow, regardless of whether the girl was his mate or not, but he'd moved so quickly…. And the rage pouring off him—it was taking everything he had not to tear his brother's throat out. Magnus might begin to question his sudden fury. “It doesn't matter. The fault was mine.”

            “Not in front of Harald and his daughters,”he sent, hoping to reach Magnus where nothing else would.

            His brother was nothing if not vindictive.

            Magnus would seek the girl out if he couldn't be distracted.

            “But if you want someone to take offense with, I'm right here.”Sirius spread his arms, his feet settling in a slightly defensive stance.        

            And he smiled his most unsettling smile, letting Magnus see the challenge in his eyes. Released the reins just a little so the furious mating urge of the drekiwould show in his eyes, demanding blood.

            “Hardly the time. Brother,” Magnus spat, gesturing with his wine-soaked hand and seething with rage. He stepped closer, and Sirius tensed as they stood face-to-face. “You deal with it if you're so enamored of protecting drekling. Father's right. They should have been culled. They are not worthy of the Goddess's gift.”

            Visibly seething with rage, Magnus quit the gathering, stalking toward the court as if to change his clothes. 

            To stand there and allow the challenge to go unanswered took everything Sirius had. Particularly with herso close to him. He barely dared breathe, lest the drekling's scent overwhelm him.

            Lest it confirm his worst suspicions.

            “What an intriguingencounter,” said Princess Solveig, but her charms had lessened with the shocking blow of his mate's true identity.

            He turned on the girl.

            “What's your name?”

            The drekling cowered. “M-Malin. I'm so sorry, Your Highness. I didn't mean to spill the wine.”

            “I've never seen you before.”

            “I'm new at court. My father gained me this position.”

            “Your father is one of the court dreki?” He needed to know everything about her. “How old are you?”

            “T-twenty. And yes, I am Malin Sigurdsdottir. I'm sorry. I wasn't—”

            “Enough with your groveling, girl,” Harald said. “Get out of here, before the prince returns.”

            Sigurdsdottir.

            The Lore master. The one who reviled Sirius's father and the dreki queen, and every single one of their Zilittuinterlopers.

            Including him.

            Two disapproving fathers who would be repulsed by this news. A murderous brother to shield her from. And an entire court who would whisper behind their hands at the difference in their social standing. It felt as if the Goddess was laughing directly at him.

            Sirius held out his hand to help her to her feet, the drekitrembling within him.

            This was worse than never knowing a mate.

            Malin stared at his hand as if he'd thrown a dead pig down in front of her. Of course. She might have felt something when their hands touched, but she wouldn't recognize it. Not yet. The males always knew first, and it was upon them to court a female's interest until she could feel it too.

            Until she accepted it.

            You could not force a soul-bond.

            “Here,” Princess Solveig said, stepping forward and drawing the girl to her feet. “I'll take her in hand, my prince. She's clearly terrified of you.”

            Both her sisters flinched when he raked them with a glance. His mate cowered. Sirius reined himself in hard, giving her one last, damning look.

            There was only possible solution to this entire situation. He could not pursue her or betray a single hint of his interest.

            “I would avoid my brother, were I you,” he said.

            “With pleasure,” Malin muttered, and for the first time he caught a glimpse of some hidden fire in her dark eyes as their gazes met.

            Saw she meant to include him in the gesture as well as Magnus.

            It was for the best.

            It had to be.

            He was a drekiprince of the finest, purest bloodlines, and she….

            His father would consider her bloodlines polluted. A drekling. A nobody. A nothing.

            To pursue her meant forsaking everything he'd ever hungered for.

            And condemning her to death.

            Sirius forced a cold smile. “Keep out of my way, little drekling. If I see you again, I'll….”

            He could not say the words.

            “You won't,” she promised fervently.

            And Sirius finally realized the Goddess had not meant this as a gift, but as a punishment for what he had done.