Dragon Fated: A Billionaire Dragon Shifter Romance (Prince of the Other Worlds)

by Kara Lockharte

  Going to sleep now, Damian informed her.

  Me too, she texted him back. The dots of him typing his reply began immediately.

  Then good night, princess.

  She smiled a little at the phone in spite of herself and texted back, G’night, dragon, before turning her phone off.

  * * *

  He was glad that he’d texted her.

  He’d felt a fool, of course, worrying she wouldn’t respond and all the things that that might mean. For a creature—and man—used to taking permission for granted, the delicacy of earthly courtship rituals was baffling. But Andi was of earth, and she deserved his patience.

  It just killed him that these things took time because it felt like he was running out of it—ever since the Heart had reappeared. He could chase his fears away when he was with Andi or his crew, but alone, it was like he could feel the thing beating, despite the box, despite the room it was in not having doors. He knew he could put it into the middle of the Forgetting Fire itself, and it would neither burn nor stop.

  So, he forced himself to concentrate on something slightly better—how he’d satisfy Mills’s request, to give her something of himself to transmute for Andi. What would possibly work? For all the possessions he had, none of them felt intimate enough, and Sammy would be horribly depressed if Damian gave Mills his favorite car to crunch into a diamond.

  I have a suggestion, his dragon told him, and showed him, flashing images of action across his mind. Damian considered it…and it felt right.

  Yes, he agreed.

  He lay down on his bed in his bedroom, watched by the darkened mirrors surrounding him like so many black eyes, and tried to imagine better places and better days, all with Andi, to fall asleep to.

  Damian woke up later, not sure how much time had passed—it was light outside. And he was greeted by a text from Andi. Up now, sent from hours ago. And I’d say thank you for the couch delivery, but we both know that it was Mills, wasn’t it? Her words sounded sharp to him until she followed it up with a grin.

  I did tell her you needed one, so it’s at least partly me. He texted her back. Sleep well?

  Until they dropped the couch off, yes.

  Sorry about that. I should’ve been more specific with my delivery request.

  Eh. It’s okay. Sleeping’s hard for me, anyhow.

  Nightmares?

  Some, she admitted, followed by a frown. But also working nightshift and being on the opposite schedule from the world. He wished he could change the world for her when she added, It can’t be helped though. What are your plans for today?

  Not sure. Food, training, killing any monsters that pop up. You?

  A little more domestic. I’m going to rest more, then go out with Sammy tonight, just us girls, don’t get worried. Then, work, hooray. (That was a sarcastic hooray. They don’t make an emoji for that level of sarcasm yet.)

  Damian smiled at his phone, then shook his head. You do realize we could have this conversation in person, right?

  Yes. But that would be cheating.

  Who precisely is keeping score?

  The Rock is. I’m looking at him here from my bed, and he’s telling me to be strong. Damian snorted as she went on. Vin agrees with him, by the way. They both think that less than forty-eight hours is nothing. Between sleeping, eating, me working, and you killing monsters, it’ll be over in no time.

  Damian sighed. As much as he liked to claim it was his dragon that was the creature of action, he was too. This distance felt wrong, and it angered him.

  I miss you, he admitted.

  It felt like he watched the dots of her reply spin on forever before she finally stated: I miss you, too. But before he could get his hopes up, she continued, We can both make it till midnight tomorrow night, though.

  While technically I know that we can, it is hard not to feel like this is punishment.

  The dots circled again. No. If I wanted to punish you, I’d send you nude photos.

  Desire poured through him, mixed with anxiety. How many nude photos do you have? he asked her.

  Countless, she teased him. And then an image popped up—of the back of her hand.

  Andi, he said, and finally went through the stupid smiling faces on his phone to send her one that had its tongue out.

  She sent a string of laughing faces back to him as he noticed that the sheets in the background of her photo were changed from the ones he’d just given her. Why would she have changed them so quickly? They hadn’t even defiled them yet. Or was that an old photo?

  A new image loaded quickly—this time, of her chest. Her beautiful breasts were slanted slightly back by gravity; she’d clearly held the camera directly over herself and snapped it quickly. He knew it was a photo from just now because he could see a small spot inside her cleavage where his mouth had marked her yesterday evening, and the sheets were definitely back to penguins.

  Look, Mister, when I send photos over, I generally expect some sort of response, flashed on his screen. Unless you’re too busy with your hands to type….

  He tapped the icon on his phone to initiate a call, and she picked up. “Speakerphone?” she guessed.

  “Andi,” he began, his voice low, ready to point out how arbitrary this entire thing was, and to ask her why she’d changed her sheets, then he remembered that he was trying extremely hard to be reasonable for ridiculous human definitions thereof.

  “I’m not punishing you, Damian, honest,” she said, defusing him instantly. “Maybe I’m punishing myself…I don’t know.”

  “For what?”

  He heard her sigh on the far end of the line, and he wished that he could hold her.

  “I looked at all of my mother’s photos. All of them. I mean, I really, really looked. And apart from the fact that my mother apparently lied to me my entire life, she was a horrible person. I guess. I think. I don’t really know? And now that she’s dead, I never will.”

  He could hear the pain echoing in her voice. “Andi…we are not the sum of our relatives.”

  There was a long pause, and then she said, “I’d ask how you can be so sure, but I think I know.”

  “I’m glad I shared enough family trauma with you then. And if I thought for one moment I was like my father, Andi,” Damian said, stretching out on his bed, “I would kill myself without hesitation.”

  “Don’t say that!”

  “Well, the irony is that if I actually were like my father, I would never dream of doing such a thing. But if that’s the reason you pushed me away, I understand.”

  “Thank you,” she granted him. “But…I did mean everything I said last night. This morning. Shit, I don’t know, time keeps slipping away from me. Whenever I was telling you, I just needed some room to breathe.”

  Damian grunted. “I like you breathing. So, please, do continue.”

  “Oh, see, now I wish you were here so I could shove you,” Andi groaned. “Thanks for doing this for me, though.”

  “I do possess a limited capacity for following explicitly stated instructions,” he said. “Even if it is hard sometimes to understand the human relationship process.”

  “Your dragon probably thinks I’m insane, doesn’t he?”

  Damian made a thoughtful sound. “No, actually, he trusts you. He doesn’t understand either, mind you, but he’s a lot more okay with that than I am,” he said, and he heard Andi chuckle.

  “I’m glad I have one fan, at least.”

  “Two for sure,” he said with a smile he hoped she heard. “And maybe as many as six,” he went on, thinking about the rest of his morning with his people. “Could be as high as seven, if my sister wakes up and you two get along.”

  “I hope so…on both counts,” she said, and he thought he heard her smiling too.

  Whatever doubts Damian had begun his phone call with had entirely evaporated after talking to her, and as much as he wanted to keep talking, this was probably his best chance to make a graceful exit from the conversation. “All right, princess. G
et some rest and call or text before your shift tonight.”

  There was an unwarrantedly long pause on the far end of the line, before Andi said, “Hmmmph.”

  “What did I do now?”

  “I sent you a photo, Damian. Technically, you’re supposed to send me one back, for equitable blackmail.”

  Damian laughed. “What? I don’t think I even know how to take pictures with this thing.”

  “You mean on all of your ‘countless’ dates, no one ever sent you nudes?”

  “You’re the first of my ‘countless’ dates to actually have my real phone number.”

  “No way. Wait…if that’s true, who manages your pretend phone?”

  “Mills. She just told me what I needed to know before I went out with anyone.”

  Andi started laughing hysterically. “Damian…I don’t know how to break this to you, Mills has been holding out. I bet you’ve got a substantial amount of nudity on that thing.”

  “But…why?”

  “Because that’s what people do, Damian. Earth-people who don’t have wings. And with all the vagina that you were getting thrown at you, oh my God,” she said, giggling helplessly, as he blinked at his ceiling, trying to understand.

  “So, wait…as your boyfriend…I could expect you to send me nude photos? Any time I desired?”

  Damian didn’t get an answer, just heard a rustling, and then a text popped up—a photo of the inverted V of Andi’s thighs, covered by a triangle of dark purple underwear. He wished he could reach through the screen and tear them off.

  “You are evil, princess,” he said and heard her laugh even more.

  “No, being evil is telling you that I might touch myself thinking about you when I hang up. I’ll call you tonight and tell you all about it if I do, though; I promise. Bye!” she said, and then hung up quickly, leaving him semi-hard and staring at his screen.

  “This is more difficult than I had imagined,” he muttered to himself when one last text from her flashed across his screen—a photo of her hand placed seductively across her stomach, fingertips tucked under the edge of the purple fabric—and then a final text: Promise if you go out fighting you’ll come back safe to me?

  Always, he messaged her and put his phone down.

  What his dragon had suggested earlier was gruesome, but it felt right. And it was the last text from Andi that did it. She’d been so worried about him earlier—there was a chance that this distance wasn’t just born of denying their pull, or her past, but also paranoia. Her needing to prove to herself that she could manage her fears alone. And now that it was light out, he needed to hurry if he was going to give Mills’s magic time.

  He got out of bed and went to the door that led to his dragon’s bathing pond, which was fitting because this was where it seemed everything with Andi had begun.

  This will hurt, his dragon warned him.

  Pain is fine, Damian thought, as his dragon had once told him, before pulling off his clothes and folding them neatly at the water’s edge. I would rather hurt us now than her hurt later.

  So be it, his dragon said, as Damian relinquished control.

  This time, it was like there was a massive beast below him and he dropped the reins—or some fantastic vehicle in which his foot was always on the brakes—and he’d just let it go. He closed his eyes as human, and within moments, he was gone, replaced by the monster always lurking inside of him.

  The bathing pond, which’d seemed infinitely large as a human, now felt constraining, its roof in particular. Trapped inside of it, Damian felt his dragon’s will surge, with all of its monstrous desires to fly and be free.

  The Heart’s proximity makes me stronger, his dragon rumbled gleefully. I do not think you could stop me now if you tried.

  I thought we were in agreement? Damian said, tensing, mentally searching for the reins again and dropping his foot back down.

  We are, the beast agreed, and reared up, the tips of its golden horns brushing against the room’s cave-like roof. For now. And then it bent its head and caught its teeth beneath the scales upon its own chest and bit down.

  His dragon’s fangs weren’t sharp—they didn’t need to be. The creature had speed and crushing weight on its side. Which is why, as the thing bit down on its own flesh, Damian felt it through every nerve inside his body. It twisted its head, adjusted its bite, and continued, its muzzle filling with salty dark green blood and the heat of its own flesh, the sharpness of its own rough scales that he could feel across its tongue. It started snapping its neck, trying to yank the piece free, and Damian howled in wordless agony inside. He had never known such pain—nothing had ever gotten the chance to hurt him so badly before.

  Do you wish me to stop? his dragon asked him, doing so, teeth still buried inside his own breast.

  Damian reeled. No. But…hurry.

  The beast growled and redoubled its efforts, and blackness came in at the edges of Damian’s vision—a darkness shot with scattering stars. Damian wondered what would happen if he passed out with his dragon in control—what it would do, where it would take him—if this was at all like what it would feel at the end when his dragon finally won—as it whipped its head free and spit out a still bleeding scaled chunk of flesh on the sandy shore.

  Damian sank to his knees in the void that he occupied when his dragon was in charge. If there were any reins available, he would not have been able to pick them up; he couldn’t have fought his dragon now if he tried.

  I am finished, his dragon announced before receding, folding once more into Damian’s human form, leaving Damian gasping at the water’s edge, his hand instinctively covering the bleeding wound above his heart.

  * * *

  Andi dozed again after sending Damian sexy photos to no avail. The fool had clearly taken her at her word and turned off his phone. She would have to sit him down and make him watch some romantic comedies, once she could think of any that didn’t annoy her or have any elements in them that he could take too seriously out of context. Dating him was kind of like training a puppy if that puppy could also become a sixty-foot dragon. She snorted, rolled out of bed, and went into her bathroom. “At least I don’t have to take a shower today,” she told her reflection, hoping that Damian was being true to his word and not looking through.

  “So, like, what kind of fun are we going for tonight?” Sammy asked, knocking on her door after she heard the toilet flush and knew that Andi was awake.

  “Coffee casual,” Andi shouted, working through her closet, pulling out some jeans and a cute shirt, and tucking her feet into sneakers she could also wear later at work. When she was dressed, she walked into the living room, where Sammy was already sitting on the couch Damian had delivered, in a bodycon blue dress and strappy heels.

  “I said casual.” Andi laughed, looking at the differences between them.

  Sammy grinned. “Yes, but, after casual, comes—”

  “A booo-tay call,” Andi cut in, making fun of Sammy’s Irish accent. “And he’s not going to care what you look like when you get there, trust me.”

  “But I do,” Sammy protested, bouncing up off the couch. “I take professional pride in these sorts of things.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door, then gave Andi a sly look. “Nice couch, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” Andi said, trying not to flush.

  “Is there any way you two can fuck on the refrigerator next?” Sammy teased. “He’s strong, and you’re tiny; I know he can hold you up.”

  “I’m gonna hold you up in a moment,” Andi muttered, loud enough to be heard, as she followed her snickering roommate out the door.

  Not long after that, they were sitting across from each other at Jones & Shah Coffee, and Sammy was squinting at her over a steaming mocha.

  “So…tell me why we got free coffee again?”

  “The barista remembered me, and she really liked her iPhone,” Andi said with a mysterious shrug. “I helped her with a problem.” The problem of it almost being stolen by a former p
atient of Andi’s, not that many nights ago.

  “If you say so,” Sammy said, giving up, but Andi was sure she’d circle back around later—Sammy didn’t give up on anything. Ever. Dead engines, dead-beat men—their apartment would be full of feral kittens if she thought they could pull it over on their landlord. Her obstinate belief that she could make anything make sense was the main reason why she’d dated Danny for so long. As if reading her mind, Sammy reached out to touch Andi’s hand. “So…any news?”

  “Not yet. My uncle’s working on it, though,” Andi said with a tight smile. She hated lying to Sammy, but she had to. There was no way to explain that her brother, Sammy’s ex, was now some sort of dragon-thing and that her uncle—

  “Hey…you’re not alone. I’m worried too.” Sammy must’ve seen her fears flash on her face. “Just because we didn’t end well doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

  Andi flipped her hand to catch Sammy’s. “Honestly, Sammy, if there’s one true thing I can tell you about Danny, you shouldn’t be wasting your time. I have to because I’m his sister, but one of us should get to escape scot-free.” She squeezed Sammy’s hand tightly and then let it go. “Tell me more about your smoking hot man? Or is he just a smoker?” she asked with a side-eye.

  “I told him he had to quit or face my roommate’s judgment.”

  “Did he sound scared?” Andi grinned.

  Sammy grinned back. “Not after I told him you’re five-three.”

  “Five-three-and-a-half, Sammy,” Andi tsked. “And just for that, I’m not going to get fucked on the fridge.”

  “Fine,” Sammy said, feigning petulance. “Stove? Please? Not on, but…like, I’ve always wanted a conduction range—”

  “What? No!” Andi put a hand to her chest in mock horror.

  “Why do you have to ruin all my dreams?” Sammy said, slouching in her chair dramatically, before perking back to life. “Wait…if you fuck in my shower…will I get better water pressure? Or faster heating?”