“You battle dragons,” Grigori was torn between groaning and laughing. “Always wanting to start a fight.” He loved his little brother, but he was the first to jump without looking—which often put their family in tense situations when it came to matters of diplomacy with other dragons.
Rurik was the family warrior, the one best suited for battle and to wage single combat against other dragons when territorial disputes arose. The Drakors were the other Russian Imperial breed of shifters that vied for dominance of Russia against his family. The Barinovs and Drakors had been enemies for centuries.
“So if it’s not the Drakors, what’s the matter?”
“Remember James Barrow?” Grigori turned back to his window once again, searching in vain for the creature he sensed but could not see.
“Of course.
