Suddenly he was sucked back into limbo—then thrown right back—only to hear the sounds of petrified screams. When Kye could actually see again, he could see the girl trying desperately to close the gaping neck wound of her lover. But his eyes were blank and empty, dead. Dark crimson blood had dried on his neck and the floor beneath him.

Big, cruel hands tore the amulet away and a rough, archaic looking hammer smashed the stone. When that happened, Kye watched as her back arched with pain and she screamed long and loud, her eyes glassy and half wild.

She was torn from her lover’s side and gagged, tied, thrown roughly over a man’s shoulder and taken into the wild, deep woods that surrounded the small village.

The cat-like creature lay outside the gates, his head smashed. Next to him was the mutilated and raped body of the second girl.

Kye stood in numb shock, in horror—then he started battering the barrier that kept him from getting too close. Over and over, until he fell back into limbo with a muttered curse on his lips, his body aching from his useless war against the barrier.

When he returned, they were cutting her long black hair, laughing at the outrage and humiliation in her eyes. Then they oiled her head and shaved off the short locks that remained, until her scalp gleamed naked and pale in the firelight.

Kye’s throat hurt from bellowing, and his fists hurt from pounding on the barrier. Nausea, hot and sour, roiled in his gut, but even the option of puking and ridding himself of this vile feeling was gone. He bellowed out when the men threw her nubile young body to the ground and molested her.

And always, always, after a few minutes, he was sucked back into limbo. Weeks, maybe months passed. He kept track of time by how long he had been gone, by how long her ebony hair had grown since he had seen her last, how many bruises had faded, and how many new ones appeared to take their place.

By day, the two men who had taken her traveled at a merciless pace, sometimes carrying her, sometimes dragging her along behind them. They beat her, molested her, and kept her bound and gagged. The gag only came off when they had had to force feed and hydrate her to keep her alive.

“What’s going on?” Kye whispered, trying to close his eyes against the horror of them fondling her, beating her.

Her hair had grown probably half an inch before they shaved it off again. That same night, they started to tend to her myriad bruises and cuts. That same night, when she spat food in their faces, they didn’t retaliate.

And that had a sickening fear growing in his belly.

They traveled north, until they left behind the woods for cold gray mountains, higher and higher, until they reached a solid stone fortress.

Inside the stone fortress, he followed, unable to keep more than four or five yards distance between his ‘body’ and hers. Each time he lagged, he was pulled forward, shoved forward, dragged, by some unseen presence.

So he watched, helplessly, while they tied her weakened body to a stone table, her legs spread wide, her hands tied beneath her at an uncomfortable angle. Watched while they ordered a slim young blonde woman, clad only in a metal collar, to trim her pubic hair and wax her mound, until she was bare and gleaming from the oil that had been used to soothe her reddened flesh.

One of the jailors threw the young blonde to the ground, mounted her struggling body roughly and raped her while the other went and slid his fingers over the listless woman’s naked mound and inside her vagina, while he jacked off with his free hand, and laughed at the revulsion in her eyes.

When he spewed her in the face with his semen, Kye shot to his feet and swung out, feeling a snap, deep inside his hand, and hearing a reverberating pop. It vibrated, in his mind, in his chest, in the air that surrounded them. The men beyond the barrier had paled, each pulling away and covering suddenly flaccid cocks, eyes wildly searching.

The air around them still shuddered and the rage inside Kye seemed to leak out and fill the room, filling it with rage and a promise of retribution.

A feral smile curved Kye’s mouth and he sank back down to his heels, watching.

They had heard him.

The barrier was growing thin.

So he watched as they scurried away, and waited.

As he rose some time later, he could feel himself falling again.

Back into the pain. Into the brutal biting teeth that tried to tear his flesh from his bones, back into the blistering cold winds, the painfully bright lights that stung his eyes and made them water. The air was permeated with a burning, scorching smell, and it nearly choked him as he fell into sleep.

And then he woke up.

From nothingness into this.

Maybe he was dreaming. Maybe he hadn’t been hit by that car and this was all a bizarre dream. Or maybe that car had really hit him and he was in a deep coma. Did coma victims dream?

But he wasn’t dreaming.

Opening his eyes, he stared into a lilac sky, a lilac he had only rarely seen in an unusual sunset at home.

And since the sun shining in his eyes was what had woken him, he knew twilight was nowhere close.

Cautiously, he rose. And rose. And rose. Until he was standing fully upright, a good foot and half taller than he should have been, his body longer and paler and scarred. And, surprise, surprise, completely nude. He lifted shaking hands in front of his face and stared at the wide large palms, the fine reddish gold hair sprinkled on the backs. He drove those unfamiliar hands through his hair, receiving another shock when he felt, then saw the dark red locks. As curly as Ashlyn’s had been after she’d had a loose spiral perm put in her hair. It was a deep, dark, pure red, darker than Ashlyn’s, a deep burgundy-red.

With a glance down, he confirmed everything else was different. Instead of an average seven-inch cock, he had a good ten inches. Instead of narrow, rather small feet, he had long, narrow feet. Instead of a pale golden hue, his skin was winter white and rippling with corded muscles.

“What in the fuck is going on? What am I doing here?” he muttered. He hadn’t expected an answer.

And he never expected what it was that gave the answer.

“There was a…mix-up,” a deep, gruff, large voice said from behind.

Slowly, Kye turned.

And looked up. And up. And up. Into glowing, deep red eyes—eyes that looked like the stone the girl had worn around her neck. He looked into those eyes, trying to understand what he was seeing.

Sunning himself in the field, Eilrah lifted his face to the sky and stretched, feeling the muscles inside his powerful body unfurl, the tension of the past weeks slowly draining out.

Well, some of it.  Not all.  All of it would not leave until he gave into the urge to find himself a female and mate...a thick plume of smoke drifted from his nares and a rumble rose from deep in his chest. Sexual need rose inside, taut, palpable, heavy.  He ached, he hungered, something he hadn’t truly experienced until he had bonded with his priestess.

Not in any of the forms he wore.

Never, never had he realized what would happen when he bonded so deeply with Eiona and Kye all those years ago.  Granted, he was a young dragon, and had not taken a priestess bond before.  You would think one of the elders would share such knowledge with him...

Certainly would have made his life a bit easier over the past few years, if he had known what to expect.  The first time it had happened, he hadn’t fought it, even though he didn’t know what was happening.  It was magick—magick was a part of him and he had always accepted it.

But when the magick cleared and he could see through the glittering red smoke that had wrapped around him, he was much much closer to the ground than he had ever been.  From a height of nearly fifty feet, not even six.  The scales of ruby red were gone and instead, he had worn smooth, human skin.

And he had ached.

For a while, he had fought the urge to change but when he did, it brought pain, physical pain.  Eventually, he stopped fighting and followed his instincts. 

It had been instinct that had brought him to this clearing in the forest this morning, instead of flying further away.

As he stretched out, he caught a scent.

The rich scent of woman drifted to him and Eilrah lifted his head, tantalized.

Hmmm...tasty.  Rich, spicy, young.

Familiar, powerful. Eilrah was drawn, entirely too drawn, and too damn hungry to continue ignoring such a fine, ripe scent.  Stretching out with his mind, he made sure none were in the forest around them–

And released the other inside him.

Ripples of magick burst through the clearing, and inside him, thick, hot and potent. A fine red mist roses just above his scales and they started to shimmer and dissolve, his form shrinking and condensing down as heat raced along his skin, through him and he threw his head back, trumpeting to the sky.