Dragon Flame

by R. L. Wilson

  Dragon Flame

  A Dragon Shifter Romance

  R. L. Wilson

  Copyright © 2021 by R.L. Wilson All rights reserved.

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  No parts of this book reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronically or mechanically, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the publisher.

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  This is a work of fiction names characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the authors imagination or used in a fictious manner. Any resemblance to actual person living or dead or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Cover Designer: AV Fantasy

  Editing: Rainlyt Editing

  Proof Reader: Cassie Hess-Dean

  Formatting: R.L. Wilson

  R.L.Wilson Dragon Flame, A Dragon Shifter Romance, Book four Feb 2021 R. L.Wilson/Exquisite Novelty Publishing LLC

  Created with Vellum

  Thank you for purchasing Dragon Flame.

  Thank you to all my supporters, friends, Arc group, and beta readers for encouraging me, even on the days when I wanted to throw the towel in.

  Special thanks to my many mentors. Your mentorship is invaluable. You kept me motivated, gave me advice, and never asked for anything in return. The world needs more people like you.

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  Special thanks to my husband and kids who stayed up late listening to my ideas and being alpha readers. I hope to make you guys proud of me.

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  Last but not Least I have to thank God for giving me the strength and the courage to keep striving.

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  R.L.Wilson

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  Contents

  Blurb

  Prologue

  1. Willow

  2. Colton

  3. Willow

  4. Colton

  5. Willow

  6. Colton

  7. Willow

  8. Colton

  9. Willow

  10. Colton

  11. Willow

  12. Colton

  13. Willow

  14. Colton

  15. Willow

  16. Colton

  Epilogue

  Blurb for Phantom Light

  Sneak Peak of Phantom Light

  Also by R. L. Wilson

  Stalk Me

  Blurb

  Willow

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  Escaping from hell was the easy part. Surviving my temporary lapse in judgment where hot, sexy men are concerned, not so much.

  * * *

  Born a demon with a soul has its perks, but when pushed, my fiery personality and skills will set this place ablaze.

  Colton is the polar opposite of my ex and that intrigues me, but his sweet demeanor may be a façade. If I’m not careful, my daring escape could lead to utter destruction, and that’s anything but desirable.

  * * *

  Colton

  * * *

  That’s it. I’ve had it. No more married women in my life. After narrowly escaping my last relationship with my life, I am officially done…. Until she walks into Omen and changes everything.

  Sexy, sassy, and scintillatingly hot, Willow is everything I don’t need and everything I never knew I wanted.

  She’s the kind of woman that could make men in the upscale club for wealthy supernaturals lose their minds… myself included.

  * * *

  She escaped hell, but things are quickly heating up in this smoking hot paranormal romance!.

  Prologue

  Excruciating pain consumes my back, spreading wide down to my waist. Another strike of the bladed whip brings tears to my eyes. I lie still across the bed, knowing if I move it only angers him more. The weapon is all too familiar. My father used to whip me when I was a child. Beatings are not new to me. I’d learned to cope with them, but every female reaches a breaking point.

  It was always something I did. I spoke to a man. Or I was friendly with the neighbor. He always says he does this because he loves me. Love isn’t supposed to hurt.

  Another strike with more force causes me to whine in pain. “Bitch,” he screams. “Keep your fucking mouth closed.” There are several lashes in a row now. I feel the warm sensation of the red liquid that keeps me alive racing down my back. I’ve grown weary of the beatings. They leave me applying a substantial amount of makeup to cover the black eyes or the bruised arms. I’m sure my co-workers suspect I’m a battered woman. How many times can a grown twenty-three-year-old slip and fall?

  “Turn around,” he yells. I stay still, blazing hot with anger and in too much pain. He grips my hair, pulling me down to the floor. I kick my legs out.

  “Let me go,” I plead.

  “Oh, you think I’m a joke?” His red eyes fill with flames. He balls his enormous fist, striking me in my right eye. Momentarily, everything is black. He’s well over two hundred pounds. Too large to be striking me. My body shakes with adrenaline. I close my eyes and my mind drifts off. I reminisce about my days in hell before they sold me to him. Out of all the beautiful female demons, he had to choose me. I miss Lucifer and my friends.

  “Well, I want out. I’m not going back to hell. I want to continue my earthly experience. There must be more to life.” My body revolts full with adrenaline. The fear of impending death is near. My eyes snap open just in time to see the bladed whip coming toward my torso. I extend my hand, gripping the whip. He yanks the whip, forcing the blade to pierce through my hands. But I refuse to let go. I yank it back and suddenly we are in a tug-of-war. After I realize he won’t let go, I do. This isn’t the battle I want to win. I have prepared an escape.

  “Go clean yourself up,” he yells.

  Unsteady on my feet, I force myself to stand. With tears rolling down my face, I stumble to the bathroom. I grab the alcohol from the cabinet and search for the paper towels. I get a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror: a swollen eye, a bruised face, a busted lip. My hair is stuck to my face, drenched in blood. I can’t go on like this.

  I storm to the bedroom to tell him to let me leave and that we should get divorced. He is fast asleep with a bottle of cognac at his side. That’s the problem: he gets drunk and takes his frustration out by beating me. I’m no longer his punching bag. Who am I fooling? He’ll never let me walk out of here alive.

  Walking into the garage, I locate the can of gasoline. Wiping the tears from my face, I dread what I’m about to do. I shake the gas can. Only a quarter left. Enough for what I have in mind.

  I limp back in the bedroom. I sprinkle the sheets with gasoline. I don’t want to do much damage. I only want him dead. My heart is full of rage. I can’t think straight. My thoughts are hazy. I want him to feel the pain he has inflicted on me for years. For once, he’ll be my bitch as I send his ass to hell.

  Before walking out the door with the bag I’d previously packed, I strike a match and toss it in the bed with Thomas. I watch as the flames dance across the sheets as the bastard continues snoring. The smoke becomes too thick. I storm out of the house. I’m finally free.

  Chapter One

  Willow

  I grip the handle on my suitcase and strut onto the greyhound bus, full of fear but no regret. I’ve had a tough upbringing, but nothing prep
ared me for physical abuse. I suffered several beatings at the hands of Thomas, a belligerent drunk whom I never wanted to marry. But he sent the money for a mail-order bride from hell. I’d thought Lucifer was bad, but Thomas makes Lucifer look like an angel.

  I’m glad I stole his money to make my escape. But since he is a control freak, I haven’t been out of the house often. I’m not sure how I will survive, but I know where I’m going: Chicago. I’ve heard about the bright lights and the busy streets. No one can find me there. I will blend in with the rest of the humans. The population in Chicago is in the millions. Here in this small town of Mill Creek I would be discovered in minutes. The gossip sledding through this town is infectious.

  Today is the last day for mistakes. Today I will leave Willow behind. Hopefully, I never have to see Thomas’s evil brown eyes again.

  The warm funk on the bus is awful. I turn my nose up in disgust then fan my face. I will have to endure the stench for a couple of hours. Besides, it masks my scent of gasoline and smoke.

  The bus is decorated in various colored Christmas garlands and lights. The colors go from a fluorescent pink to a dark blue. They forget one thing, though: the pine scent.

  It’s only three weeks until the holiday. I’ve noticed that humans are extra cheerful this time of year, but it’s just another day to me. In hell, we never celebrate holidays. And neither does Thomas.

  I locate an empty seat next to a man with a sharp smile. The closer I get, the more his eyes rake me from head to toe. His perverted stare is enough for me to search for another empty seat. I keep moving to the back. I’m not sitting next to that creep for a minute. Fear tries creeping in the longer he stares, but I refuse to show one ounce of fear.

  I find another seat next to a lady. Her aura is subtle, not a potent magic. Maybe she is all human. I take a seat next to her. I slide my suitcase under my seat and make myself comfortable. Calmness spreads throughout my body, covering my arms, abdomen, and legs, clinging to my toes. I close my eyes, thinking I’m safe.

  “Going to the big city?” she questions. I open my eyes. The wrinkles in her face become more pronounced as I inspect her.

  I pull my hat down more. I’m trying to disguise myself until we pull out of the bus barn.

  “Yeah.”

  She takes a bite from her apple as I snuggle into my seat. She gazes out the window. “You sure Chicago is the right destination? That city is fast.”

  I grab my blanket, covering my torso. “Anywhere is better than here,” I respond.

  A bright blue light reflects off her face. My first thought is that it’s the cops. Shivers from the cool air turn into goosebumps. I want to give a quick glance out the window, but I can’t. They are looking for me. My magic intensifies; it’s my defense mechanism. I slide down in the chair, heartbeat racing. I give a quick glance around. Fuck, there are two police cars. Hurry and start this damn bus, I think as my hair becomes slick with sweat.

  “Is everything alright, dear?”

  “Huh, what?”

  “Are you okay?” the lady questions.

  “Oh, me? Yes, I’m fine.” I grimace. “I just get a little motion sickness.” Fanning myself with my hand, I try to cool myself. Sweat is racing down my face faster than the horses at the Kentucky Derby.

  Finally, I feel the sluggish thrum of the bus igniting. I give one more glance out the window. The cops have a red corvette stopped. Guns are aimed at the car window. A frigid chill of impending doom sucks the air from my lungs. A flashback invades my memory, reminding me of my encounter with a gun. Me staring down the barrel of a 9mm is an unpleasant memory. I gasp for air and quickly dart my gaze away from the window.

  At least I know they’re not looking for me. I withhold a sigh as my body temperature decreases.

  The bus moves out of the garage, drifting away from the scene. Several passengers are standing, looking at the show. I keep quiet and stare straight ahead, trying not to draw any attention to myself.

  I don’t feel safe until we enter the expressway. We head north as the sun is setting over the horizon.

  “About the big city: it’s fast. Be careful.” She raises her bushy eyebrows. “A lot of pretty young girls your age crash and burn,” she warns.

  “I have an aunt in Chicago. She’ll help me find a job.”

  I don’t have an aunt. I’m stepping into the lion’s den. But I don’t want the sweet lady to worry. I made it in hell; Chicago will be a breeze.

  “Okay, dear. Would you like an apple?” she asks.

  “Yes,” I respond. I’m hungry as hell. The nervousness and adrenaline made me forget about food.

  She hands me an apple, a green granny smith apple, and I scarf it down.

  Feeling relaxed, I lean back in the chair and close my eyes. I just need to rest. I yawn while stretching my arms out.

  “Wake up, dear,” the soft voice of the lady sitting next to me says. Forcing my eyes open, I blink then narrow my gaze on the back of a seat. I lift my head, which is resting on the shoulder of the gracious lady. I wipe the saliva from my mouth and jaw, then flip a quick glance at the lady. Her eyes glow a silver color, the same as her hair. Initially, it startles me. Then I realize I’m still on the greyhound.

  “We’re here,” she says.

  I peep out the window, staring at a parking lot filled with paper and empty bottles. This is the big, beautiful city I’ve heard so much about. They don’t keep it clean. It’s big, but I don’t see the beauty just yet.

  I gather my suitcase and my blanket and say my goodbye to the sweet lady. I exit the bus and the pungency of pollution nearly knocks me down. The smell alone could give you lung cancer.

  I struggle to keep my eyes open. Extreme fatigue is upon me. I glance at my phone. It’s only 9:00. I glance up to the sky, noticing the darkness that clouds the city. In Mill Creek, the sky always seems to have a warm glow. Maybe I am stepping into a city on fire. Game on. I’m a savage demon. Maneuvering through flames is second nature for me.

  I notice a man sitting on the ground. I’m not sure why. He has a scruffy checkered beard, as if he hasn’t shaved in months. His clothes are worn and dusty with holes in his shirt. I hurry past him. It’s not that I’m afraid, but I don’t know what to expect. Will he jump up and attack me? Or is he searching for spare change? The familiar scent of alcohol flows from the man like a running river. He has that glassy look covering his eyes. An alcoholic, for sure. Possibly homeless. I don’t understand why else he would rest on the ground.

  I’ll search for a hotel. I need a place to lay my bags and my head. As I stalk down the street near the lake, I feel a chilly breeze. The loud beat of music pulses through the air, demanding my attention. The music becomes louder as I follow along the lake. I’m very close.

  Chapter Two

  Colton

  I don’t know how I always end up at Kenya’s house. But damn, the witch has a big ass. She knows what she’s doing. She struts her big ass in Omen every Saturday night since her husband works out of town on the weekend. Jake is a cool dude. He’s a Dragon. But I can’t resist his wife. I’m friendly with him. I’ve known him for ten years or more. But Kenya I’ve known since we were kids.

  I always thought she was attractive. We flirted with each other in high school, but she always had a boyfriend. Now she’s married with kids. So, when she walked into Omen a few years ago, I didn’t consider having sex with her. After a few drinks, she seduced me. I’m a single guy, and I was drunk myself. We reminisced about high school days and one thing led to another. We crossed the line that night. Now it’s routine.

  It’s the temptation of it all. My mother and stepfather want me to settle down now that I’m twenty-six. Find a nice dragoness, get married, have kids. I will one day. But not today.

  I lick my lips as she passes me and takes a seat on the sofa. Her body is glistening with oil, the scent of cherry blossom lotion clinging to her skin. She just got out the shower. Her caramel skin and almond-shaped eyes drive me wild. It’s only
an infatuation. There’s no love, no strings attached.

  Her kids have gone to their grandparents for the weekend. It’s the perfect weekend for me.

  “You want a glass of wine?” she questions as she lights a candle.

  “Yeah, that sounds good,” I respond. The only thing on my mind is removing her Victoria’s Secrets. But I’ll go along with the foreplay.

  She walks back into the living room, her housecoat dropping to the side, exposing her melon-sized breasts. My penis hardens at the anticipation of lovemaking. She has the body of a goddess and long hair flowing in layers to her shoulders.

  She takes a seat next to me. Her scent lingers in the air. She pours me a glass of wine as her gaze locks on mine. “What are you thinking about?”

  “Nothing.” I shake my head. “Just the club.”

  “What about the club?” she questions. She stops pouring mid-stream then sets the bottle of wine on the table.

  “Nothing. One guard has been late a lot. My cousin Kyle wants me to write him up, but I like Brian. He’s cool.” I hate being the bad guy.

  I don’t know why I’m talking about this with her. It’s not like she cares. And it’s something I need to work out on my own, anyway.