Mary-Lynette's POV

Freedom.

She could taste it on her tongue, feel it skimming across her palms, smell it in the first whiffs of fresh air she had been blessed with in over two days.

It was so close.

"Going somewhere?"

It was impossibly far.

Every muscle in Mary-Lynette's body tensed, as behind her the dragon chuckled. Voices as old as the earth whispered solemn warnings in her head...she had tried to escape, and now the punishment would be that much worse. Mary-Lynette wondered what it would feel like to die. She had no way of knowing, of course, but she wasn't terribly afraid. She had experienced a lot in her short lifespan—had battled a werewolf, adopted three vampires as sisters, found a soulmate—and even if ended too early, at least it had been lively.

Of course, there were a couple of things she wished for. One, that it had been night instead of day. She wanted to say goodbye to the stars one last time. And two, that she could just see Ash one last time...she didn't care if she couldn't touch him, couldn't speak to him, just to see him…

The universe let out a hearty chuckle at that, and, as if hearing Mary-Lynette's sober thoughts, chose that moment to send the pack of Daybreakers out of their hiding spot.

"Now!" Somebody yelled, and then there was chaos, and bodies sprinting closer from just around the corner of the secluded mansion, and screams from in front of Mary-Lynette and from behind her, and the dragon was laughing.

There was all of that, but she barely registered any of it.

Because there, leading the pack, was her wish. No, the sun had not set. But Ash was there. His face was even more beautiful than the last time she had seen it, so long ago…and he was fighting against the dragon and his minions. On the side of the Daybreakers. For her. He had changed so much, it made her heart ache. If they both survived, then she wasn't letting him slip away for the second time.

"Mary-Lynette, watch out!"

Something heavy and hard pushed into Mary-Lynette's side, and she let out a startled cry as Maggie and she plummeted to the ground. Where Mary-Lynette had been five seconds past, a snarling panther was now. Forget Ash and his unfairly sculpted cheekbones. Right now, Mary-Lynette didn't have time to be star struck by the soulmate principal. She was in a battle. And a battle that made her confrontation with Jeremy last year seem like a civil debate. There were dozens of black-clad guards—where had they all come from?—of all different species going after her friends and—and family?

"What are you doing here, Mark?" Mary-Lynette demanded, furiously.

She surged forward, narrowly dodging a vampire mid-leap, and grabbed her younger brother by the neck of his shirt.

"How could you be so stupid?" She gave his shirt a shake. "How could you be such an idiot? You're a human, Mark! A soft, breakable human. And the closest experience you have with fighting is on the X-box. You—,"

"Mary-Lynette," Mark said.

And then her brother was hugging her, even as cries sounded, screams echoed, and blood was shed all around them.

"I'm so glad you're alive."

"Me too."

"And me three. Now let's make sure you stay that way," Ash said.

And somehow was out of Mark's arms and into Ash's. She could feel the soulmate principal tugging at her spine, casting a gleaming sheen over her heart, and making her feel as though supernovas were shooting through her mind. She could only just manage not to melt into Ash's arms completely.

We're at a war here, girl. Save it for later.

"You came for me," she said, softly. "You risked your life…"

"What life?" Ash retorted. His voice was teasing, but his eyes burned into hers with the gleam of an addict pulled back from the brink. "You're everything to me. I had nothing to risk, while you were here. I'm just glad you were here. I thought—I mean, for a bit, I wondered—forget that. Can I just say I love you?"

"We're in the middle of a war, Ash. Perhaps it's not the best time for declarations," she replied, blushing. She never had figured out how to accept Ash's love. Even though she returned it completely, emotions were never her strong suit.

"We're in the middle of a war, Mary-Lynette," Ash countered. "It could be the only time for declarations."

She frowned. Then relented. When she had first met Ash, things had been rough between them. Okay, rough was an understatement. She had kicked him. In the shin. And even after all they had gone through together, she still hadn't been ready to be with him. Not because of who he was, but because of who he had been. Ash had done a lot of horrible things in the past. He had treated humans like dirt, and hadn't thought there was anything wrong with it. He had lied, cheated, schemed, and, although Mary-Lynette didn't like to think about it, he probably had killed. But he had also changed. And if he hadn't earned total redemption yet, well…he was on the right path.

Mary-Lynette leaned in closer to him.

"I love you," she admitted, just as the dragon unleashed his true form.

Morgead's POV

In the most twisted sense possible, it felt like a game. What? He did say twisted. Like a dark, warped version of Monopoly where one wrong roll of the dice meant that you didn't get to pass 'Go.' Ever.

But it was also a game that Morgead had played before. Usually, he won. In fact, the only times he lost were to Jez—of course, with her trailing, fire ignited hair, and eyes that glinted with living silver she had an unfair advantage—but now she was fighting beside him, instead of against him.

Just now they were back-to-back. Two against six enemies: three vampires, two shape shifters, and one werewolf. It was hardly a fair fight.

Morgead flashed a dangerous smile to no one in particular.

"Come and get it," he dared.

The werewolf lunged, and Morgead waited for just the right timing to fend him off with his sharpened fighting stick, thumping him so hard that bones crunched. The werewolf snarled and was back again, just as a vampire came lunging to his side. Morgead flipped his fighting stick so that the silver-plated tip was facing upwards, stabbed the werewolf in the shoulder, then sent a wave of power toward the vampire. Behind him, Jaz staked her first vampire, then sent a shape shifter in the form of a grizzly bear stumbling backwards before driving a dagger into his heart.

"That's two," she murmured sweetly. "You're falling behind Morgy."

"We're on the same team, Jez," he answered, rolling his eyes. "It's not a competition."

"You're right," she considered, taking down the second shape shifter. "But I'm still winning."

Morgead grinned despite himself, then decided to kick things up a notch. The werewolf was already wounded and easy to finish, and the second vampire was still on the ground, clutching its head as Morgead's unusually strong power wreaked havoc. Poor guy would need a whole bottle of Aspirin until things were back up to par. As for the last vampire…

Morgead raised his fighting stick, deflecting a lunge to his shoulder. The vampire spun around, dodged right, dodged left, then went for the neck. Morgead waited until he was close enough to touch before dropping to a crouch. The vampire stumbled for a millisecond, and that was Morgead's opportunity to whap him with the fighting stick so hard that multiple fractures bloomed in his opponent's wrist. From there, it was easy to get the advantage. He paused with the fighting stick pressed against the other vampire's throat.

The other vampire looked distinctly desperate, but also a tad scornful. Morgead wanted to wipe that expression from his stupid, smug face.

"How does it feel?" The vampire asked calmly. "To be a traitor to your own kind?"

Morgead didn't take the bait. Jez had always said getting him angry was a calculated risk. Sometimes, he admitted, he got rattled. But he wasn't rattled now. It had taken him a while to figure out, but by now Morgead had learned that the only people who could shake him were the ones he loved. And unfortunately, this vampire didn't come close. So instead, he got the other Morgead—the cold, indomitable vampire who was one of Circle Daybreak's fiercest fighters.

"Not bad," Morgead replied. "Probably a whole lot better than you're about to feel."

And then his fighting stick was through the vampire's heart, and his score was even with Jez's. Jez who—Jez who—Morgead froze.

Where, exactly, was Jez?

And then he looked up and realized that his theatrics might have just cost him his life. Well, not his life. Jez's life, to be more specific. But really, where was the difference? Morgead didn't know. Perhaps there was none.

All Morgead knew was that Jez was taking on the dragon. Alone. And, by the looks of things, losing.