Dragon Protectors: Shifter Romance Collection

by Lola Gabriel

“You’ve been putting up with this for seven months?” Asher leaned in to whisper in Olive’s ear.

  She laughed lightly and nodded. “She’s wild and maybe a little unstable, but she has a good heart.”

  “You’re actually a remarkable judge of character,” Asher sighed, letting his hand travel up and down her side. “I’m sorry. I hate that we had you questioning yourself and your own intuition when you were actually doing the right thing the entire time.”

  “It’s okay,” Olive responded with a weak smile. “Both of you thought you were doing what was right as well.” They walked along with nothing but Esme’s fits of laughter and the sound of the waves surrounding them. “You know… it still hasn’t really sunk in that I’m… I’m a witch. It feels weird even to say it.”

  “I can’t even imagine,” Asher mumbled. “Seems like you’re relatively unaffected by it genetically, though. Other than perhaps having a touch of foresight and, well, the obvious.” His sentiment ended with a large grin.

  They walked for a while, coming to a portion of the beach that was entirely secluded. Rolling sandy hills obstructed their view of the resorts, and it seemed like not another living thing was on the beach. Asher stopped Olive suddenly, holding both of her hands and searching the depths of her eyes.

  “I never thought any of this to be possible. To find my mate, to lose you, and then come back with the news I had a child… Not to mention what’s going on with my family. I could be overwhelmed and feel defeated, but I’m not. I’m excited. All it has done is prove to me just how much you mean to me, and how I want nothing in this world but what is promised in our future.” He bit his lip as his eyes gleamed with happiness and admiration. “You’re my soulmate, Liv. That’s what I meant by the bond we share. I know I’m not insane, and I know you feel it, too.”

  Olive wasn’t sure why, but a large rush of embarrassment flooded her. They had spoken in great length about how they felt for one another and how it just seemed so natural and right, though they had never placed such a hefty label on it. Even though her initial reaction was to dismiss such a thing, thinking soulmates to be something that only existed in stories, she knew that would only be denying what she truly felt. Asher was right. They practically knew what the other was thinking or feeling without a single word having to be uttered. She could sense when he was nearby without ever laying eyes on him or hearing his voice.

  “I think you may be right,” she replied, her eyes unable to meet his with the butterflies growing in her stomach.

  “That’s the thing. I know I’m right.” Then, Asher was in her line of sight, kneeling in front of her. Olive’s gaze searched his wildly, not knowing what exactly he was doing. Still holding both of her hands, Asher spoke. “I’ve lost you once, Olive, and it nearly killed me. I don’t think I could ever bear that sort of pain again for the rest of my days. I mean it when I said that all I care about is our future. Mine, yours, and Henry’s. Maybe you think I’m being brash, since it’s been only a week since we reunited, but I’ve never been so certain of anything in all my years. Olive, will you—?”

  There was a scream in the near distance, breaking the intimate moment in half. Both of their heads jerked to the side, looking past Olive. It was Esme, being overpowered by a large, brutish man.

  “They found us! How?” Asher breathed. Before Olive could react, he commanded, “Stay right here.” Then he was rushing over to the scene in a blur.

  As soon as he was upon Esme and her attacker, he launched himself at the man, and all three of them went tumbling onto the sand. Esme scurried back as soon as she was freed from the man’s grip. There was hollering and animalistic hissing and growling. As the stranger and Asher rolled around, struggling for dominance, Esme ran over to Olive.

  “What’s going on?” Olive asked with wide eyes, tears already threatening to spill over.

  “H-he snuck up behind me, the bastard. Had I had my bag with me…” Esme let out a bitter laugh. “He wouldn’t have been a problem for more than a second.”

  There was a thunderous roar as the two men shifted into their dragon shapes. It was so bizarre to watch, even with having seen it before, that Olive’s mind tried to tell her that her vision was lying to her. Their skin rippled as their bodies elongated, scales sliding out and armoring their flesh, wings expanding and flapping rapidly, kicking up sand all around them. Before her brain could fully process the scene before her, another dragon was swooping down, giving a hellish growl.

  “No, no, no!” Olive cried, beginning to run forward before Esme caught her and held her back.

  “There’s nothing you can do to help, Olive. They’d crush you in a heartbeat,” Esme informed her in a grave tone. “Let’s get inside, okay? That’s the best thing to do.”

  Olive was shaking her head. “I can’t just leave! What if something happens to him?” Her eyes were glued to the fight. Asher’s golden form stood on top of another dragon’s neck, pinning him in place as he breathed an explosion of fire toward the other.

  “There is nothing you can do. What Asher would want you to do is get to safety and protect your son. At least come with me to get my bag, okay? We can help him then.”

  It was no use. Olive was rooted to her spot, hot tears streaming down her face as worry and anxiety ate away at her insides. She felt the urge to get sick, but not even that would take her eyes away from the scene before her. A diluted thought in the back of her mind told her that as long as her eyes were on him, he would be okay. Esme began pulling on her, trying to lead her away from the beach. It was becoming more and more clear to Olive that there never would be a way to truly run away from the Tallants or the control they had over the land. Carlyle would always find them. He would find Henry.

  With Asher’s attention turning to finish off the dragon he had pinned, the other took the advantage to attack, knocking Asher into the water. Olive’s stomach tightened, the stress becoming too much for her. The dragon was attempting to hold Asher’s head beneath the water, hissing and growling on top of him.

  A sharp pain overcame Olive, and she doubled over. It was the same sensation cramps gave but much, much worse. She let out a cry, strangled in pain and worry.

  “Okay, okay, you need to sit down,” Esme instructed, helping to lower her to the ground. Olive’s eyes still never left the dragons, praying over and over again for Asher’s head to lift up. The pain overrode her senses, not even realizing she was screaming as she did. “Oh, my God,” Esme let out hoarsely. “Olive, you’re bleeding…”

  Her words didn’t register. Olive was lightheaded, and in the blink of an eye, she was met by blackness.

  16

  Asher’s back was scraping against the rocky ocean floor as he tried with all his might to get the man off him. Even while being held underneath the water, Asher’s head was filled with questions. How did these two find them? Were there more in tow? Had they already told someone they had picked up on the dragonborn’s scent?

  Blindly, Asher slashed his claws upward, finding satisfaction in tearing flesh with his claws. As the tide pulled back, he finally had the opportunity to jerk upward, lifting his head from the water. He was expecting to be met with the sounds of growls and waves, but instead, it was blood-curdling screaming ringing in his ears. Asher launched himself up at the man and pinned him down himself, just to take the split second to look over to where Olive had been.

  Much to his horror, she was lying down in the sand with Esme knelt over her, screaming at Asher to come quickly. If Asher hadn’t been fueled by adrenaline before then, he was in that moment. With strength he didn’t realize he had, he gripped the dragon and kept him pinned hard to the earth as he belched a burst of fire directly into his face. The dragon screamed and squirmed around, trying to get away from Asher, but it was no use. Asher let out fire in a continuous stream until the dragon stopped moving. Only when he felt the man’s body go limp did he stop. Acting quickly to drag the two dragon’s bodies into the ocean, praying they could get swept away with
the tide, Asher could finally turn his attention to his mate.

  Shifting back, he rushed over to Esme and Olive with alarm. Esme was crying and holding Olive close. “We need to get her to a hospital or something!” she wept.

  “What happened?” Asher questioned, his chest heaving.

  “I don’t know… I guess the stress was too much for her? She’s bleeding, Asher!”

  Asher’s hands went into his hair, panic setting in. They couldn’t go to a hospital. The baby’s vitals would be different, along with the sonogram, if they took one. That was a situation they couldn’t easily escape from. What else were they supposed to do, though? What if Olivia was losing the baby?

  “Let’s just get her back to the room for now,” he decided, cautiously scooping Olive up into his arms.

  “Are you crazy? She needs medical attention!”

  “Do you think I’m going to let anything happen to her?” he snapped. “You know as well as I do that taking her to human doctors is out of the question!” He didn’t wait for Esme to respond, not really caring how she felt about it. He beelined for their room, thankful that he had suggested one of the private bungalows on the outskirt of the resort.

  Getting inside, Asher lay Olive down on the bed and hovered above her, trying his best to think clearly. She hadn’t lost that much blood. If she had passed out, it had to have been because of shock, right?

  “We need to wake her up.” Walking into the bathroom, he found a stack of clean washcloths and soaked one with cold water before ringing it out and going back to Olive.

  “Could I do that while you put on a pair of pants?” Esme mused.

  Asher didn’t pay her any attention. The last thing he cared about was his appearance. Perching on the edge of the bed, he gently pressed the cold rag against Olive’s cheek and then against her forehead, moving in a pattern. Instinctively, Asher’s hand rested on her stomach. He could feel the baby moving around, but not to the extent he would have liked. What was going on in there?

  “Olive? Olive, love, you need to wake up,” he spoke to her. He almost didn’t recognize his own voice as it wavered and trembled.

  Esme sat on the opposite side of Olive with her own rag. They cooled her down and spoke to her, trying to bring her out of it. Eventually, the flat expression across Olive’s beautiful face began to pull and twist into a face of anguish. She let out a groan. Even though Asher hated to see her in pain, he was relieved she was, at the very least, responsive. Over the course of several more minutes, Olive’s eyes finally opened, and she stared up to him.

  “I-I’m glad you’re okay,” she croaked, but then she lurched as a wave of pain coursed its way through her fragile body.

  “Don’t worry about me,” Asher asserted. “Can you tell me what you’re feeling?”

  She winced. “My stomach… It’s tight… Really, really tight.”

  Asher was mortified as Olive experienced another bout of pain. She was in premature labor. Asher flew from the bed, pacing about with his hands covering his mouth. This couldn’t be happening. She wasn’t far along enough for the baby to—

  His mind dismissed the idea before it could complete itself. Glancing over to the bed, he could see by the look on Esme’s face that she recognized what was happening as well. “I’m trained for this,” Esme spoke calmly. “I’ve helped my sisters and cousins with it many times.”

  “Trained for what?” Olive asked. “Trained for what?” she repeated, propping herself up on her elbows.

  “Darling, you’re in labor,” Esme answered.

  “But it’s too early!” Olive whimpered.

  Asher knew what he was going to have to do, and he knew that Olive wasn’t going to like it. Hell, he didn’t like it. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured, moving over to his bag and slipping on a pair of pants before stepping outside. Pacing to the far side of the deck, he did his best to keep his emotions in check as he pulled the phone from his pocket. Closing his eyes, Asher tried to sort through everything buzzing around in his head. But there wasn’t time to do that. If Olive and the baby were going to be okay, he was going to have to act first and think later. Turning on his phone, he made the call.

  The hours to follow passed at an excruciating pace. Olive wailed in pain, and they had to do their best to muffle her cries so they wouldn’t alert hotel staff. Esme was in control of the situation, whereas Asher sat behind Olive, holding her up and encouraging her as she went through unmedicated labor. He only ever left her side to get her a cold, fresh rag to help cool her down. When it was time for Olive to push, neither she nor Asher felt ready. It meant their child was coming into the world whether they liked it or not, and he would not have the immediate attention that he would desperately need.

  There was no stopping it, however, and Asher helped Olive brace herself for each push. She gripped his arms with such severity that Asher actually winced a bit. Nothing came from his lips but words of encouragement. Olive begged for the pain to stop, for Henry to be okay. A few times, Asher hid his face in her shoulder, busying himself with kissing her to hide the fact that he was crying. He had no idea what he would do if something happened to either of them.

  Esme held the entire situation together when Asher and Olive didn’t have the capacity to do so. When she announced she could see the head, Asher had to grit his teeth and squeeze his eyes shut. Terror was consuming him, scared that in a matter of minutes, they would be deafened by silence instead of the squeal of a newborn baby boy. He held himself together, though, knowing that now, more than ever before, Olive needed him to be strong.

  Then, there it was.

  The tiniest, piercing scream echoed throughout the room. Asher’s heart stopped as he looked up from Olive’s shoulder to see a tiny wiggling creature in Esme’s hands. He was covered in blood and guts, his thick hair matted by it.

  “You did it,” he whispered to Olive, closing his arms around her. “You did it. You did so well.”

  “Is he okay?” Olive cried to Esme.

  “I don’t know, but the fact that he’s crying is a good sign,” she assured her dear friend. Asher moved from behind Olive to help Esme. He had the honor of cutting the umbilical cord as Esme took warm washcloths and cleaned the baby. The little boy was so tiny, he couldn’t have weighed more than four pounds. It worried Asher sick, but at the moment, he was merely elated that his son was alive and crying. But his small chest dented with every sharp inhale, filling Asher with just as much worry as he felt relief. Esme swaddled the baby in a plush towel before finally handing him over to Olive.

  Propped up against a mountain of pillows, Olive took her son in her arms. Her hair was wild and frizzy, some strands sticking to the sides of her drenched face. Her eyes were glued to the baby. Henry’s complexion was red as he cried, his arms fighting against the towel to be freed. Olive softly shushed him, tapping his back lightly.

  “This is unreal,” she breathed. “I… I can’t believe it…”

  Neither could Asher. He was speechless as he gazed at the two of them. Never had a sight struck a chord so deep within him. It was beautiful to see his mate hold their child for the first time—beyond beautiful, beyond words. He drank in every small detail, wanting to remember every little sight and sound.

  Henry began to calm as Olive held him. While that should have relaxed Asher, it didn’t. Just because he was breathing by no means meant he was okay. Asher moved to sit next to them. Even though he longed to hold his son himself, he could wait. He enjoyed seeing him and Olive together. Glancing up at Olive, he pressed a long, deep kiss to her plush lips.

  “I’ve never been so proud of anyone,” he whispered into her skin.

  Before Olive could respond, there was a knock on the door.

  17

  “Do you think it’s the staff?” Esme asked, staring at the door.

  Olive was far too consumed by her son to care about who could have been knocking. She was already madly in love with the little one. His face was swollen and chubby, making it h
ard to distinguish his features quite yet, but she knew that he was going to have Asher’s straight, pointed nose, at least. Henry had already drifted to sleep in her arms, his breathing uneven but constant.

  “I know who it is,” Asher announced, standing up straight.

  That caught her attention, and she turned to give Asher a quizzical look. In response, his expression was apologetic. What exactly was going on? Going over to the door, Asher opened it in a way that obstructed Olive’s view. She couldn’t see who was outside.

  “Thank you for getting here so quickly. It’s sheer luck you were nearby.”

  “Now can you tell me what exactly is going on?” a gruff voice asked.

  It was only then that Asher opened the door fully, giving Olive the view of his brother Sebastian. Her jaw dropped, and she instinctively clutched Henry tighter. “What is he doing here?” Olive bit.

  Sebastian didn’t hold the same resentment that Olive did. His face was plastered with awe and revelation as he uttered obscenities under his breath. Asher let him inside before closing the door. Olive and Esme stared at him, both seeking answers.

  “Okay, as I told you before,” Asher told Olive, “Sebastian is the only other person I trust. Even after everything we learned, I still trust him. He would never betray me or do anything to put Henry in danger.” Then he turned to his brother. “Bash, I think it goes without saying why I hadn’t told you this before. I love you and trust you, but the only reason I’m bringing you into this now is that my son was born too early, and I truly have no idea of what to do about his care.”

  Gradually, Sebastian paced closer to get a good look at Olive and Henry. “Well, this is far more than what I had been expecting,” he muttered before looking back to his brother. “How premature is he?”

  “Eight weeks,” Olive answered with a frown, concerned eyes returning to her son. He was going to be okay, wasn’t he?