"Despite his lack of ascendance, he is more than suitable. Should he truly be gold, then joining with him will greatly benefit our Sept. And should your children be golden..." Her aunt smiled.

Then Aimi would have the biggest hoard. Fist pump. "He is my ticket out of here."

He latched on to those words. "You do realize I'm standing right here listening to you plotting to use me? Don't I get a say?"

"No."

Before his brow could furrow any further, Aimi tickled his chin. "Don't frown. This will be a good thing. A fun thing," she purred.

"I'm not looking for fun. I want to find my sister."

"Ah, yes, the sister. I'll have to get Adi working on that."

"You're going to help me?"

"Of course. Think of the return of your sister as my mating gift." It would also ensure Parker understood that messing with Brand and his family meant messing with the Silvergraces. There was a reason no one told stories about messing with the Silver Sept. Dead men kept their mouths shut.

"You're blackmailing me into marrying you," he stated, a hint of incredulity in his tone.

"Blackmail, bribery, they are better options than handcuffs and a shotgun." To this day, everyone mocked Waida's wedding picture.

"You're fucking nuts."

"Language."

To Aimi's surprise, he respected Xylia's admonishment. "You're fudging nuts. But tell you what, moonbeam, you help me get my sister back, and if your aunt can turn me back into a man, I'll marry you. Hell, if I can be me again, I'll even give you some of those babies you keep yammering on about."

The proposal-with benefits for them both-practically wet her panties. Sometimes a hoard grew with a simple promise. The best kind of treasure to own. "We have a deal." She turned from Brand to her aunt. "Fix him." Imperious demand at its best.

Mocking laughter in reply. "'Fix him,' she says. It might not be that easy." Xylia tapped her lower lip. "He is caught between the dragon and man. Both equally pulling. If I tip the balance one way, then the other may be forever lost."

"What do you mean forever lost? You mean if I became a man, I might never shift again?" His wings rustled.

"Or, if you ascend to your true dragon shape, you may perhaps never walk as a man again."

"At this point, I'd take being a man if given the choice."

"I might have something that will work, then." Her aunt went roaming the rows of shelves, running fingers along labels, plucking jars at random and returning them. She eventually found what she wanted on a high shelf tucked partially behind a wooden box inscribed with symbols. Setting it down, Xylia blew at it. The staff kept the jars well dusted, but given how Xylia struggled with the lid, whatever the container held, it had not been used in a while.

With a grunt and a word Aimi would have sworn was French for fuck, her aunt opened it. Holding out her palm, Xylia tipped the jar that appeared to hold a small handful of swirled black and white beads rolling around the bottom. "This should work. They had better work since I hate wasting one, given how hard these are to come by these days now that the mermaids no longer trade with those on land."

"Mermaids?"

He was so cute when his faced scrunched in skepticism. There was so much for Aimi to show him. Places to go and explore.

Together.

As in not alone.

Interesting...

The thought surprised her. She'd not expected to ever get married, and if she did, she assumed she'd continue living as she pleased with occasional conjugal visits. It was how her parents' marriage worked, and she knew of others who also treated it as a business arrangement. However, it didn't have to be that way.

Much as Aimi valued her independence, she had to admit that there were times she longed for the relationships she saw on television. Wanted a lover who made her smile and shared adventures with her. She knew a thing like that would never happen with the Harolds of this world, but then again, Harold and every other man she'd met didn't make her pulse race when they spoke.

Humans might find Brand monstrous, and perhaps he was to the humans, but Aimi saw an attractive male. She saw the strength in his shape, the will to survive against the odds. He was cunning; cunning enough that he'd found her without all the trimmings she had at her disposal. There was bravery there, too, under the cynicism and a noble core that she coveted.

He might have been born in mud, but that did not define him as a dragon.

True dragon majesty comes from within. Unless you had the biggest hoard, which trumped all.

Pinching it between two fingers, her aunt held up the bead. "These are the unfertilized offspring of the mermaids who do not manage to mate. They spawn an egg every decade, so as you can imagine, these are rare. And rarer still since the humans forced them to retreat to the deep that they might not find themselves hunted anymore. So many species the humans have destroyed. It took generations for the dragons to rebuild, bigger and stronger than before. Our time is soon coming."

His lip lifted in a sneer. "Now you sound like my uncle."

"Would it surprise you if I said, in many ways, your uncle is right?"

"You'd agree with a madman?"

"He makes some valid points," Xylia countered. "He is correct when he says we should not have to live in shadow. We should not fear being hunted into the ground by humans. Predators should rule the world, not the sheep."

A sentiment Aimi also shared, even if she never expressed it aloud. It surprised her to hear her aunt admitting it.

"And freaky comment of the day goes your aunt." Brand clapped and shook his head.

Aimi couldn't help but grin. "The day isn't quite over yet."

"There is much about this world you don't know, boy."

"Back to 'boy?' Damn, I am really missing being called Your Grace."

"If you want the title, then ascend. Until then, you're just another dragonling, subject to everyone's rules."

"I'm almost thirty."

"Still a baby." Xylia's lips quirked. "With so much to learn."

Aimi waved a hand to stop her aunt before she started. "I'll teach him our history later. We need to get moving on the rescue of his sister so that I might claim him. Should word get out that he's a possible royal, then the other Septs might try and snare him."

"Snare me for what?" He was adorably clueless.

"Breeding, of course. You are new blood, and if you truly are a gold, then everyone will want you."

"So I'm to expect a horde of women to kidnap me to have their wicked way?" He laughed, the sound deep with a hint of decadence. "Let them."

"Like hell," she snarled. "No one will be putting a hand on you, or they'll lose it.

"I won't need your protection, moonbeam, since no one is going to chase down a monster for sex."

"You don't need to have sex to extract sperm. You don't even need him conscious."

It wasn't just Brand who gaped at her aunt.

Xylia shrugged. "Just saying. And we're off topic. You wanted to change him back. He needs to eat this, followed by a glass full of..." Her words tapered as she opened a refrigerated unit and returned with a brown bottle. "Drink this."

"You want me to eat a pearl and chug what looks like piss?"

"Yes."

"Will this make me into even more of a mutant?"

"Possibly."

"Aunt Xylia!"

"Like I said before, it will tip him into either man or dragon, but given he's stubborn, I'm leaning toward man. At least temporarily."

"Will it hurt?"

"It is my job to heal things, not hurt them."

He held out his hand, and Xylia dropped the pearl in it. He then wrapped his fingers around the cold glass with the amber liquid. He hesitated. There might have been a clucking noise, and it may or may not have come from Aimi.

With a scowl, he popped the bead in his mouth and quickly chugged from the glass.

He slapped the empty bottle down and made a face. "That was revolting. With a fishy aftertaste."

"Castor oil."

"Castor oil helps the change?" Aimi asked.

"It's for his foul language. The pearl is what will fix him."

Brand crossed his arms. "Nothing is happening."

"Give it a moment. Men," her aunt huffed in Aimi's direction, "always so impatient. Especially in the bedroom. Always rushing to get to the main event."

"Still not wor-Argh. Ugh. Irk." The grunts contorted his features, and Brand dropped to his knees as his leathery skin rippled and his wings shuddered.

"What did you do?" he gasped. "You said it wouldn't hurt."

"Auntie lied." Aimi knelt by him. "The cures almost always hurt." Because they worked.

Knowing this, her aunt was ready with a powder that she blew into his face, whispering, "Sleep."

Chapter Seven.

The collar burned at his neck, and he lay shuddering on the floor, his body a trembling mess. Once again, he'd fought what his jailers wanted of him. Once again, they'd tortured him until he could take no more.

But at least when he was limp, he couldn't do as they asked. Some evil even he couldn't be forced to commit. His strength of will didn't pass itself on to others, and he had to hear the screams and the grunts and wish he could die.

Because the pain was never-ending, the horror always beginning anew, starting in the morning when he looked in the mirror and saw a monster.

A monster who deserved the pain.

No more pain.

A beast who acted upon baser instincts.

Because you had no choice.

A guy who was going to snap if... "Get out of my head!"

"Morning to you, too, sunshine." This time, she spoke to him aloud.

"What the fuck did you do to me?" A vehemence he found hard to maintain, given he didn't seem to suffer from any pain and he found himself comfortable. Very comfortable. The mattress he lay on had just enough cushion to cradle him. The sheets smelled of vanilla-and woman, mustn't forget that candy-like scent of woman that made him think of moonbeams. The fabric felt silky soft against his skin, but even better was the naked body snuggled against his.

Back up a second. Naked body pressed against his skin. My skin.

Holy shit!

Without a thought for the woman cuddling him, Brandon dove out of the bed and stood on two feet-not claws-and slapped himself, his flesh pale and, yet, human. Not scaled.

"I'm me." He whispered the word, barely daring to believe it. But did it extend everywhere? A glance between his legs showed his mighty snake hanging like he remembered, along with his balls. What of his face?

Fingers palpated his features, and they felt right, but he needed to see. "A mirror. I need a mirror," he muttered as he turned around, finally spotting one over a dresser. He didn't need to get close to see his reflection, a reflection that now seemed strange after so long. Even his hair stuck out in long strands.

"It worked. It actually fucking worked."

"Of course, it did. I told you my Aunt Xylia knew her stuff. Now, if Aunt Waida had managed to pour something in you, then that might have been a different thing. You could have ended up with horns or a second cock."

He whirled. "Thank you."

"For not growing a second cock? I don't know. That could have been interesting if you ask me."

"Don't screw with me, moonbeam. Thank you for this. For drawing me here and having your aunt cure me."

Her lips quirked. "If you want to thank me, then why don't you come here." She patted the mattress beside her.

It was tempting. Everything about Aimi was tempting, from her violet sloe eyes to her shimmering waves of hair. As for her body, she didn't try to hide it, letting the blanket only partially cover it. The alabaster beauty of her limbs beckoned. He wanted to go over there and lick every inch of her. It was a struggle to declare, "I can't." Not because he didn't want to.