Dragons Don't Forgive

by D'Elen McClain

  Dragons Don't Forgive

  Title Page

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bibliography

  D’Elen Gets Real

  Dedication

  Dragons Don’t Forgive

  D’Elen McClain

  Fire Chronicles: Book III

  Dragons Don’t Forgive

  D’Elen McClain

  Fire Chronicles: Book III

  Copyright 2015 D’Elen McClain

  Edited by Michelle Kowalski

  All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.

  This is a work of fiction. ALL characters are derived from the author’s imagination.

  No person, brand, or corporation mentioned in this Book should be taken to have endorsed this Book nor should the events surrounding them be considered in any way factual.

  Dragons Don’t Forgive…

  After nearly killing his friend’s bride, Sarn runs from the dragon realm and finds solace in endless bottles of whisky. The only thing growing higher than the pile of discarded bottles is Sarn’s temper. So what’s to be done with a man capable of breathing fire and turning into a ten ton dragon with anger management issues?

  When you’re a female wolf shifter tending bar for a bunch of bad-ass immortals you need a little extra attitude to get your point across. When Sierra takes interest in the angry dragon shifter hearts are on the line and fire burns deep as two worlds collide.

  Will the dragon’s curse keep these two apart or will Sierra’s love do the impossible and change destiny? Things might go easier for them both if they could get past the greatest issue… Dragons Don’t Forgive.

  Dedication

  To Bobbi Jean Servis

  For teaching me about inner strength and making me believe.

  Chapter One

  Sarn

  In the corner of my mind, I hear them shouting. My rage has taken over and I have no control left to stop the destruction even when someone yells directly in my ear, “Sarn, dammit that’s enough!”

  I don’t care. I will destroy everything around me. That’s what I’m good at. Everyone in my path goes up in flames. Smoke escapes from my nostrils as I think about burning this building down around me. It would feel so damn good to let go.

  Two shifters grab my arms, their hands like steel. It doesn’t matter because I’m stronger and the alcohol makes me invincible. Dmitri is the one who finally puts a stop to my insane theatrics. Well, he stops me from burning his precious nightclub, but the rage will never go away.

  “Are you done?” Dmitri demands in a deadly voice that only a vampire can back up. He is peering down at me with lethal amber eyes as I lie flat on my back with his iron grip tight on my throat. The pressure on my windpipe makes my head swim even more than the alcohol. I. Can’t. Breathe. My face must be red tinged with blue. I feebly try to dislodge his hand, but it’s like a fly battling a military tank. Then I realize maybe he can end it all so I stop fighting him.

  Dmitri’s smile is anything but friendly and in my oxygen deprived brain the evil Count Dracula comes to mind. I would laugh if I could breathe. Sadly, this is what it’s like every day in my insanely drunk brain—self-hatred, drink enough to escape the memories, and crazy analogies that have absolutely nothing to do with anything. I guess it’s called avoidance, though there isn’t enough alcohol in the world to avoid my demons.

  Dmitri must realize I’m about to pass out and even through the fuzzy haze I hear his low growling words, “I will eventually release you, but first, dragon, we shall have a short discussion.” He eases up the pressure just a bit, which allows me to breathe. I suck in air when what I really want is for him to tighten those deadly fingers and take all the oxygen from my worthless life. But no, he is so fucking noble.

  His amber eyes assess me and I can see the contempt written clearly in their depths. Before he begins the discussion, I know my welcome at the club is at an end.

  “You’re done here,” he whispers, which is actually more threatening than yelling. I can hear his frustration in each word. It’s the pity in his glowing eyes that keeps me silent. And he’s not finished, “I’m having you delivered to the bear clan where you will dry out and get your shit together. You will not return to the nightclub or any other club until you’re sober.” His eyes burn a tad brighter. “We will have another conversation again when you can remember things clearly.”

  My fury combined with alcohol makes me object to his dictate. “I won’t go and you can’t make me.” And if that isn’t the biggest, whiny, pussy voice alive, I don’t know what is. The disgusted look on Dmitri’s face shows he thinks the same thing.

  He grabs my wrist and lifts it toward his mouth where long canines extend. “I’m not giving you a choice,” he says right before twin pin pricks enter the vein at my wrist.

  It’s my first vampire bite and I swear it will be my last because I will kill the bastard for this. A heavy weight settles in my chest and darkness replaces the alcohol haze no matter how hard I fight to stay awake. My limbs turn to jelly and I can no longer move. The only fight still taking place is in my head.

  “Transport him and have two guards stationed on the cabin door,” is Dmitri’s fuzzy command before the world turns pitch black and for a short time, I find peace.

  ***

  My stomach rebels again and I spew into a bucket beside the bed. Nothing has stayed down for two days. I’m retching every few hours and I still crave alcohol. Liquor is the only escape from the memories and the only thing that’s kept me semi-functioning for a year. I’m such a pathetic excuse for a dragon. My ancestors must be rolling in their graves and that thought bothers me not at all. I need a drink.

  The cabin door clicks as it opens. I barely lift my head from the bucket to see who it is. When I do, I wish I hadn’t bothered. It’s the person I want to see least. Without a care in the world, she walks inside like she owns the place. And shit, she’s in another damned leather getup like she wears at the nightclub. Goddess, I pray silently in my head, please end my miserable life because anything is better than being in this room right now.

  I lift my head completely out of the bucket and wipe away a stream of spit from my lips. I bring my full attention her way and I’m surprised she doesn’t incinerate on the spot from my glare. I don’t want her here. Hell, I don’t want her within a hundred miles of me.

  “Don’t stop puking your guts up on my account,” she says in a chipper sing-song voice as she steps closer and places a tray with a bowl and glass of water on the side table. “I’ve brought you some broth to help you along.”

  Heat builds inside me. It’s a slow burn that starts in the pit of my stomach and moves up until I can barely contain it in my throat. I’m miserable and dangerous—not a good combination. I don’t need anything from her or anyone else. “Get the fuck out.” I barely move my lips because if I open my mouth, she will be a pile of ash.

  Her assessing glance travels my body from head to toe. Her eyes move slowly like she’s deciding if I’m edible or just a pile of shit lying in bed and taking up space. Her lips tip up at the corners and a wild spark enters her eyes. I groan when she purses those lips and says, “Make
me.”

  She’s certifiable. And she needs to leave. I push my hair back from my face with shaking fingers. My arms and legs tremble in the same way. I’m lying down, so at least I don’t suffer the indignity of falling on my ass. From the smug look on her face, she knows I’m incapable of making her do anything. Exhaustion rears its ugly head and I’m too pathetically strung out to fight her any longer. “Why are you here, Sierra?” I ask in a bored, who-gives-a-fuck voice.

  Like she doesn’t have a care in the entire world, she sits on the side of the bed with absolutely no fear of me. I know I look like hell and she looks the exact opposite. Her curly reddish-brown hair swirls around her delicate face, and thick lashes accent her dark eyes. They literally brush her cheeks when she blinks. She has a small, elegant pixie nose with high cheekbones. She’s nothing like the other female bear shifters I’ve seen. They’re pretty enough, but larger like their men. I’ve admired Sierra’s beauty on each occasion I’ve been close enough to sneak a glance or two, which isn’t often. To top everything off about her delectable body, the outfits she wears are outrageous.

  The nightclub has a strict dress code for employees—the perfect combination of sexy and elegant. Unless you work behind the bar as Sierra and her brother do. They rock the leather in tight, suggestive clothes that have men and women ogling them every minute of their shift. Today, Sierra is dressed in a tight, black, midriff bustier, black short-shorts that show off her legs, and thigh highs with stiletto heels. The damn shoes must be six inches high. Who the hell wears this shit in a rustic cabin in the middle of nowhere? Then there’s all that wild hair. A man could get lost in it while fucking her.

  Until now, she’s avoided being near me even though I always felt her eyes. When she works behind the bar, she always watches me. Though, in the past few months it hasn’t been as blatant. Not since she peeked into my room at the nightclub after I’d spent a night carousing. I had the pleasure of two naked ladies asleep in bed with me, which Sierra witnessed after she opened the door. Her steely gaze held disappointment and sadness.

  I don’t give a damn, though. She can join the club. Bastian, a dragon shifter from the dragon realm, came to see me and his gaze held disappointment too. It also contained the added touch of anger, which I deserved. In my grief over the death of my beloved bride, I tried to kidnap Bastian’s son, Ashrac. The human bride of Laryn, another of my dragon brothers, tried to stop me. I practically burned her to a crisp, incinerating most of her body. The horror of what I did haunts me, and forgiveness is not what I seek.

  I don’t care that Laryn’s bride transcended to dragon and survived. Our brides are sacred. What I did is unforgivable. I’d like to think I’d have given Ashrac back to his parents after he assuaged some of my loneliness, but who knows. What it comes down to is that I all but killed another dragon’s bride. Calista, my last bride, would never forgive me any more than I can forgive myself.

  When Bastian came to the nightclub, he demanded I return to the dragon realm. I told him to go to hell. Not that I wanted him to join me because really I just wanted to be alone in hell and drink myself to death. Damn Bastian and damn this pint-sized female for not leaving me to my nightmare of constant self-loathing.

  “Are you done glaring at me or should I just sit here and give you a little more time?” Sierra asks, cutting off my pity party.

  I try again and add biting venom to my voice, “Why are you here?”

  She watches me with such intense appraisal I’m actually surprised when she answers. Her head cocks just a bit to the side, a spring of hair falls over her cheek, and again I see no features that resemble the bear clan females, though I sense her shifter blood. “I’ve decided to nurse you until you’re able to help yourself. I needed a break from working the club and this position is open. You’ve chased away everyone else.” She puts her hands up and tips her palms toward me a little. “So here I am and you’re stuck with me.”

  Until now, male bear shifters delivered my food and water and emptied my bucket if I couldn’t make it to the bathroom. No words were spoken between me and the bears, so I know Sierra lies. And none of them sat on the side of my bed and judged me like she’s doing. I can see it in her eyes. She finds me lacking in every way and worst of all… she pities me.

  The uncontrollable fury that turns into a blazing circle of pain begins taking over again. “I don’t want you here,” I groan on a warm breath of air. Too warm. My body heats with the need to expel fire. I watch Sierra wipe moisture from her brow.

  Her stare remains intent and she continues to be unaware of the danger she’s in. “I know nothing about dragon shifters. Is the air warmer because you’re angry?” she asks in her calm melodic voice. Insane!

  “You’re crazy.” I fight the need to grab her shoulders and shake her. “I could turn you to ash in the blink of an eye. Don’t think your bear shifter blood will save you.”

  I’m surprised when her laughter fills the cabin. She really is nuts. I watch as she continues laughing until finally she wipes tears from her eyes. “I’m not a bear shifter,” she says, letting me in on her inside joke. It wasn’t that damn funny.

  “Then what the hell are you?” I demand.

  “How about I show you,” she replies as she stands.

  “How about you get the fuck out,” I return sternly. It shocks me that the fire inside me settled low in my gut at her laughter. I’m even more stunned at what she does next.

  She quickly unclips the fastenings holding her bustier and lets it drop to the floor. I gulp in a breath at the sight of her breasts. They’re small and firm and perfect. She unzips her too tight, body-molded shorts and pulls them down her legs along with her panties. If you can call the string contraption that catches for a split-second on one foot a form of clothing at all. The heels and thigh-highs are next. She’s a pro at rolling the stockings down her legs and making my dick hard. I’m so fucking turned on I forget my need for alcohol. At last she stands naked before me like it’s the most natural thing on earth. And she’s exquisite. It doesn’t matter that my stomach continues rumbling or that my head aches so bad I want to scream, my cock wants to bury itself deep between those gorgeous thighs.

  “None of that,” she says with a tinkling laugh as she looks at the part of me that’s growing to the point of combustion. A cool burst of energy runs across my skin and in the next blink, she’s a large wolf with a red pelt of dense fur that looks soft enough to roll in. She shakes her entire body starting at her head and her fur puffs out more. Her tail is down and sweeps behind her with an unhurried slashing movement back and forth. Her brown eyes are the same as she carries in her human form. I’m looking at about one-hundred and fifty pounds of wolf completely stunning in her wildness. I’m back to needing a drink.

  I’ve only seen two bears shift. I felt their magic when it happened. Very similar to hers. I don’t even realize I’ve reached out my hand until her tongue makes a slow warm slide across my palm. I’m sure I don’t taste good. I can’t believe I’m looking at a wolf while my cock remains thick and ready. I’m a pathetic bastard.

  I know she can understand me if I speak, but I’m not sure she can cast her thoughts into my mind while she’s in wolf form. That’s a clan thing here in the earth realm and I’m not part of her clan. I can speak and hear her telepathic thoughts if I choose, but I don’t care to reveal this secret just yet. I wonder if she’s part of the bear clan. If not, she most likely accepts being unable to communicate in her wolf form. It’s actually quite hard to resist yelling my telepathic voice into her stubborn head, though.

  For some reason my rage builds again. It’s been uncontrollable for months thanks to the liquor. I’m back to just wanting her gone so I can continue my one-dragon pity party. “Get out,” I yell and point to the partially open front door. The room grows warmer, but she remains standing a few feet in front of me, her tail giving a continual swish. Who does she think she is? I’m dragon. I don’t need her prancing around on two legs or four. I don�
��t need her making me think of all the things I can’t have. I’m totally unworthy of anything good or in her case beautiful and innocent. It doesn’t matter how sexy her clothes are. Her innocence comes through loud and clear. And because of it, I refuse to touch her.

  There are twenty-four years before I’m granted another claiming for a bride. Sex with willing females is one thing, but Sierra makes me feel things I have no business feeling. She’s not a one-night fuck and I know it. Her twin brother, Roland, would kill me, or at least try. He’s been standoffish from the beginning and at first I thought his a typical bear shifter personality. Then I figured out it was because he’d seen the way his sister looks at me. Maybe he even noticed how I look at her when she’s not watching. And now, I’m fully aware that neither of them are bears.

  Sierra finally turns and with a swish of her tail, she runs from the cabin. Now I can be alone to wallow in more guilt. I don’t deserve her kindness, I don’t deserve to live, and I sure as hell don’t deserve to have her in my bed. I lean down to the floor and snag one of her thigh-highs and bring it to my nose. It’s not Calista’s scent, but it holds the sweet herbal tang of a woman. I can’t help the tears that fall as loneliness swamps me. Death would be a welcome escape.

  Chapter Two

  Sierra

  That didn’t go well at all. Not that I really expected it to. Hell, the man is stubborn. I’ve watched him for a year now. Watched him drink himself into a stupor for at least two-thirds of each day. He paid Dmitri a mountain of gold to stay at the club or the vampire would have booted him out months ago. Roland, my twin brother, isn’t happy that a dragon shifter has been under the same roof as me. Not that my brother spends too much time being happy. The only person grumpier than him is Sarn.