by Amelia Jade
Dragon Betrothed
Quicksilver Dragons Book 3
By Amelia Jade
Dragon Betrothed
Copyright © 2018 by Amelia Jade
First Electronic Publication: October 2018
Amelia Jade
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.
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Author’s Note
Hold on!
You should know that while this series can be read independently, it is part of a large world that was started with the Crimson Dragons series. You can continue through, as each book contains a full story arc with happy endings for the characters, but to get the full experience of the Outsiders Universe, you should really start at the beginning with Dragon Temptation (Crimson Dragons #1) available below.
I hope you enjoy!
- Amelia
Crimson Dragons
Crimson Dragons: The Box Set (Link)
Dragon Temptation
Dragon Seduction
Dragon Devotion
Onyx Dragons
Dragon Fixation
Dragon Obsession
Dragon Addiction
Ice Dragons
Dragon Eruption
Dragon Redemption
Dragon Rebellion
Emerald Dragons
Dragon Passion
Dragon Desire
Dragon Craving
Cobalt Dragons
Dragon Blood
Dragon Heart
Dragon Soul
Quicksilver Dragons
Dragon Marked
Dragon Bound
Dragon Betrothed
Dragon Betrothed
Chapter One
Stoen
“Will you, Rose Marion Pridham, make me the happiest man on earth, and marry me?”
Blue eyes, blonde hair, and five foot four of curvy perfection gasped, belatedly covering her mouth with one hand. Watching the surprise play over her face, Stoen’s confidence rose. She was going to say yes, he knew it. Things had been going amazing between them. So well in fact, that he’d decided to take the plunge and try to seal it.
“Are you nuts?!” she exclaimed a moment later.
Stoen froze. That wasn’t the response he’d wanted, or even hoped to hear.
“Hey look, he’s proposing!” someone exclaimed nearby. Whispers and nudges spread like wildfire as the crowd slowly turned inward to face them, putting the pair at the center of a circle.
Rose looked around wildly. The big screen flashed as one of the cameras panned over to them, showing what was going on to the entire audience in the arena.
“Stoen, what have you done?” she hissed, pulling at the edges of her light jacket, trying to hide from the onlooking eyes.
“I…I think I proposed,” he stammered, still trying to process what was happening.
“It’s not going well,” someone else whispered.
“Piss off!” Stoen roared in the general direction of the speaker.
The crowd took a momentary step back, but he could hear more groans and horrified gasps as people clued in that she was turning him down.
“Please don’t do this,” Rose pleaded. “Stoen, I’m begging you. Get up off your knee. This isn’t…this…I can’t.”
“Why not?” he asked, still stubbornly down on one knee.
This was supposed to be a happy moment. A magical one. Something for the two of them to treasure for the rest of their very long lives they would be spending together. Stoen couldn’t imagine spending it with anyone else. Ever since he’d accidentally bumped into her at the bakery he’d been entranced by Rose.
“Because we’re only on the third date!” she hissed, motioning with her hand for him to get up. “Now stop this silliness.”
“I’m not being silly,” he said, voice deepening in stubborn denial. She wasn’t making any sense. They were mates; couldn’t she feel it? Didn’t she understand that fate had decreed they were going to be together? There was no point in fighting it.
“Then you’re being insane,” she countered. “And I’m not interested in dating crazy. Goodbye, Stoen.”
Still on one knee, he watched her go. The crowd parted like the Red Sea before Moses, closing up behind her as she ran swiftly for the exit. Around them people slowly panned their cellphones back to him, while on the big screen the view returned to the musician on stage. What the hell was her name again? Stoen couldn’t remember; he didn’t care. He’d only bought the tickets because Rose had mentioned she liked them.
He fingered the badge hanging around his neck, twirling it idly, the laminated card switching from an image of the popstar to big yellow lettering that read VIP.
“Hey, you,” he said, ripping it from his neck and motioning at a little girl there with her father. “It’s okay,” he sighed as they backed away. “I just want to give her this.”
Standing up at last, he tucked the velvet-covered box back into a pocket and extended his arm toward the child. “Here. You can have this.”
“Seriously?” she asked, staring wide-eyed at the VIP pass that would get her backstage to meet the star after the show.
“Yeah. It doesn’t look like I need it anymore.”
“Thank you!” she squealed, darting forward to snatch it before returning to her father’s protective embrace. No more than nine, maybe ten, he judged. He nodded respectfully at her dad, the orange tip of earplugs sticking out of his ear. Lucky guy.
“I’m sorry,” the little girl added as he turned to go.
“Why are you sorry?”
The music made it hard to hear, the thumping bass nearly more than his hearing could take, but he was close enough that they didn’t have to scream.
“She said no. I’m sorry. You look sad.”
Stoen smiled at the child. “It’s okay. Enjoy the concert.”
The father mouthed a thank you at him as he passed, to which Stoen returned a slow dip of his head.
The crowd parted before him as he went. Not because they were on his side, but because he was six foot eight and close to three hundred pounds of muscle, and his face made it very clear that nobody wanted to get in his way as he left the open area in front of the stage, following Rose’s path to the exit. She would still be waiting somewhere. Being in the spotlight was something she hated, though he couldn’t quite figure that one out. It most likely had something to do with why she’d moved to a small town. Even convincing her to come into the city tonight for the show had taken some effort on his part.
“Rose,” he said, spying her dark-blue jacket and black pants leaning against a column.
“Please tell me that was all some kind of sick joke,
” she said, pushing off with her shoulders and standing in front of him, arms crossed.
“It wasn’t,” he stated, standing his ground, not willing to give up just yet.
Why should he? This was his mate he was talking about…Wasn’t it?
Could I have gotten that wrong?
Stoen played back his memories. Of bumping into her in the bakery and spilling her freshly cut bread all over the floor. The way they’d laughed and immediately both dropped to start cleaning it up, resulting in them bonking heads. Rose had wobbled slightly and lost her balance, but Stoen had caught her, pulling her in tight to him so he could steady her.
Right from the start they’d felt the connection. His dragon had urged him to throw her onto one of the tables and take her right there, but he suspected the shop owner and the six other patrons, including a quartet of bridge-playing seniors, would have taken a dim eye to those actions.
Instead he’d asked to see her again. For dinner. Where someone would bring the bread to them, without either of them having to risk dropping it. Rose had hesitated for a few seconds, but in the end she’d agreed. Something about their bond, about the way they matched, had convinced her to come out of whatever shell it was she normally inhabited. Stoen learned shortly after that she wasn’t a social person, and was very slow to trust.
Two more dates had brought them to tonight, however, and an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. His friends, most notably Kase, had told him he was insane. That he shouldn’t be doing it, but Stoen knew, he just knew. Rose was different, he’d said. She understood him, better than anyone else ever had. She got him.
“If you’re not joking, then you’re serious.”
“That…yes?” Wasn’t that how it worked?
“If you’re serious about proposing to me after three dates, that makes you crazy, Stoen.” She shook her head. “I thought I knew you! I thought you were…I don’t know, different.” Shrugging, with a helpless look on her face she backed away, heading for the exit. “I’m sorry.”
“Rose, wait,” he called, jogging after her.
“Don’t,” she said, pulling her wrist away as he went to grab her hand.
“You need to listen to me,” he said, moving to block the door.
Rose looked at him, then glanced at the row of doors to the left and right of him. “Are you going to block them all?”
He wilted. “No.” Backing up, he pushed it open and held it for her. “There’s something you need to know, though. About why I’m doing this.”
Rose paused, already halfway to the curb where a trio of overly-eager cabs had already shown up to wait for customers when the show finished. “What’s that?”
“I’m not crazy,” he stated. “There’s a reason behind my actions. It’s…complicated, but you need to know what it is, to understand.”
“Okay. Go ahead, tell me what it is.”
“We’re fated to be together.”
Rose’s head fell back as she looked skyward. “Are you kidding me?”
Shaking his head, Stoen caught her gaze, snaring the blue eyes with his own gray. “I’m not. Rose, you should know that I’m…”
“Special?” she supplied with biting sarcasm.
“Yes, but not in the way you mean. I’m a shapeshifter.” He held up his hands. “And I know that sounds crazy. Downright insane, really. But you have to trust me. I am. And we can sense our mates. The one person we’re destined to be with for the rest of our lives. That goes doubly so because I’m a dragon shifter. We feel it more than most.”
Rose coughed. “Can I boil this down here for a second?”
He nodded eagerly. This was good—she wasn’t running away. She was willing to listen to him. Maybe he could still convince her that this was the way it was supposed to be.
“You’re telling me you’re a shapeshifter. A dragon shifter, no less. So you can change into a dragon?”
Nodding again, Stoen held his breath.
“Okay, change.”
He looked around. “I can’t, Rose. Not here. There’s too many people who would see. We haven’t remained secret this long by just shifting wherever, whenever.”
“But we’re meant to be together?”
“Yes. My dragon can sense its mate. Rose, it senses you.”
“Right. And despite all of that, you still don’t think you’re crazy.” Shaking her head, she resumed walking to the cab. “You’re crazy, Stoen. You need to accept that.”
“I’m crazy about you!” he called, running after her yet again. “I’m not insane though. Come with me. I’ll take you somewhere I can show you that I’m not joking.”
Glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes, she snorted. “You must be joking, right? You just proposed to me after three dates—hell, we’ve only kissed once!—then you tell me you can turn into a dragon, and now you want me to accompany you somewhere private and deserted where no one can see us so you can show me?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you understand how creepy that sounded?” Rose pulled her jacket tighter as the wind picked up, bringing a slight chill with it. “No, Stoen. I’m leaving. Goodbye.”
He stepped back as she got into a cab, glaring at him when he tried to close the door.
“I can do it myself.”
“I know,” he said, speaking to himself. “But you don’t have to.”
Stoen watched the cab drive off, taking his mate and his future with it.
Chapter Two
Rose
Six Months Later
The wind whipped at her coat, slapping the ends of it against her knees as she pulled it tighter around her.
“Goodbye, Miss Linden!”
She turned and waved at several of the students who were playing outside under the watchful supervision of some adults. Their names escaped her, but she enjoyed being recognized. “See you tomorrow!” she called, flashing a big smile.
Miss Linden.
It wasn’t her real name, but instead the name she’d assumed upon moving here five months earlier. Rose Linden. Changing her first name would have been too complicated, and led to more incidents of not responding when called than would be natural. Rose needed to blend in, and blend in fast. She thought she was doing so now, but she could never be sure.
Crossing the street once it was clear, she headed down the road toward the house she was renting. Driving would have been quicker, but the walk was a pleasant one, most of it occurring on one of the three major roads in town. Several people who were outside waved or nodded at her in recognition. Rose felt comfortable here.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, and with it the ominous sign of rain. People slowly began to disappear indoors. Looking at the sky she judged they still had another ten minutes before the storm hit, but she’d been wrong before.
The wind grew stronger, bringing with it an air of menace. Something bad was going to happen. Pulling her jacket tighter, Rose lowered her head and continued to head for her house. She would feel safer there, she knew, out of the watchful eye, away from the public. Her job gave her more exposure than she wanted, but it was also a good cover. People wouldn’t look for her in a school.
And people were looking for her. She was positive about it. They had to be. There was no way they were just going to let something like this go, of course. That was why she’d moved after that idiot Stoen had proposed to her in public.
Shivering at her recollection of all the publicity his stunt had garnered her, Rose tried to put it and him out of her mind. Like always it was a failed effort. No matter how hard she tried to move on, she couldn’t leave him behind. Her mind kept returning to him. He wouldn’t leave it. Not when she asked nicely, when she screamed at it, or when she tried to cry her thoughts of him out. Nothing worked. They hadn’t spoken since that night, aside from one text message from Stoen that she’d ignored.
Rose couldn’t respond. She couldn’t afford any more attention from anyone. She was convin
ced that only her quick actions in leaving the town she’d been living in and moving across the country to this one had saved her from true detection, and thus spared her life. For the moment.
A tingle started at the base of her neck and slowly spread from there. Rose stopped to look at the products a baker had on display in his window, her cheeks warming at a memory from another shop like this. Another place. Another time.
The feeling didn’t subside. Rose had been a private detective in her past life—it’s what had landed her in her current predicament—and she’d long ago learned to trust her instincts. In this case, the one that told her she was being followed. The feeling had been on and off again for almost a month and a half now. Never anything that screamed danger. Just that someone, somewhere, had an eye on her.
Despite the feeling that she was being stalked, Rose had never gotten so much as a glimpse of the person. Not even a head ducking back around a corner, or a shadow through a tinted window. Absolutely nothing besides the surefire sign that they existed and had her as a target. Clamping down on the urge to look around, she let herself stare wistfully at the baked goods for a few moments longer.
You’re just a woman trying to resist temptation. You want to go in and indulge, but you’re also trying to watch what you eat. It’s a battle, a war. Let your body show just how you feel.
It wasn’t hard to fake that, considering that was her. Taking a half-step toward the door, Rose shook her head, straightened her shoulders, and resumed her walk home. It wasn’t far now.
A pair of raindrops spattered against her forehead. There was a pause that made her question what she’d just felt, then the droplets fell with regularity. The storm had arrived. It had been a bright and sunny morning, so Rose had neglected to bring an umbrella. Now she regretted it as her hair grew damp and beads of water soaked the collar of her shirt and slipped below them. One particularly irritating droplet ran down her neck, across her collarbone and threatened to drip between her breasts. A quick pat with her fist soaked it up, but if that was any indicator of how the rest of her day was going to go, she wasn’t about to have a great afternoon.
