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

by Kara Lockharte

  “It’s not my fault Mills’s magic is good,” Zach said. “What’d they pay you in?” he asked her with a jerk of his chin.

  “Wads of cash. Nothing traceable, and most of it’s been spent already. Besides, I have other caches of weapons, and I only killed four hunters last night. But I’ve got a reputation to uphold; I want them scared of me.”

  “As they should be,” Zach granted, pulling the SUV into the hospital’s emergency roundabout. Stella held Isaac to her tighter, possessively, as she put her hand on the door handle behind her. “Don’t wait for us. You’ll just make things harder to explain later.”

  “I’ll make sure his bills are covered,” Damian said.

  “You’d better,” Stella told him, and then looked up at Zach, waiting for something.

  “Don’t worry about my brother,” he said. “We'll be busy killing Hunters in no time. It’ll distract him from wanting to kill you, at least for a while.”

  “Aww, you’re not brave enough to chase me?” she taunted.

  “No,” Zach snorted. “Not now that I know you were paid to sleep with me.”

  Stella opened the door behind her and got out, still holding Isaac. “I was paid to stab you. Not let you stab me. There’s a difference,” she said with a smug leer, then slammed the door shut.

  Zach watched her go, as did Damian. “She is crazy,” Damian said.

  “Crazy hot,” Zach added, then turned back to the steering column and reached for the keys.

  “Hold up,” Damian said. He knew from his phone it was almost seven a.m.—when Andi got off shift. There was still the matter of his coat and her mysterious uncle.

  Zach read his intentions on his face. “You think that’s a good idea?”

  “Probably not.”

  “Here’s to both of us with bad ideas, then,” Zach said, toasting with an imaginary glass.

  “Hmmm,” Damian grunted and kicked gently under the seat to toe Grim. “Two glasses of 1954 Glen Grant.”

  Grim grumbled, but created a glass for each of them, sitting on the empty seat by Damian in the back. Damian handed one to Zach.

  “To bad ideas.” Damian toasted Zach back officially and chugged the whiskey down. The alcohol didn’t actually affect him, but something of the fire in it felt like home, and he liked to drink it when he was thinking. Zach merely sipped his, then set it aside.

  The front doors of the hospital opened, letting loose a burst of humanity, nurses in assorted stages of exhaustion, chatting among themselves, carrying bags, leaning on each other as they undoubtedly shared pieces of their shifts. Damian set his glass down and searched the throng with his eyes for her as he put his hand on the door handle. At the thought of seeing her again—talking to her again—he swallowed and shuddered.

  “Do you want me to wait?” Zach asked.

  “No,” he said quickly and stepped outside.

  Chapter 9

  There had been no response from Damian.

  Which made sense, considering that he’d been “busy” or something all night.

  She couldn’t believe that she’d bothered to reach out to him again. That she’d felt bad about telling him no and that she’d then tried to help him. He was a billionaire and a fucking dragon—there was no way he needed her help!

  So, that was that. She was going to block his number. Literally…any minute now. She just needed a long enough break to do it in. She hadn’t gotten a break because the rest of her night at work included: an under-medicated patient extubating themselves—thanks to Dr. Chan not believing her about their sedation levels; a patient shitting the bed with blood twice and needing serial transfusions—which meant hanging out way longer than she wanted with the creepy guy who worked the blood bank counter; and a neighboring patient’s widow-maker heart attack, during which she’d had to take a few rounds doing CPR—but better that than the charting!—before the poor guy went off to the cath lab. And to think, some people thought that nurses played cards all night to stay up.

  After all of that, she was the last person out of the break room, and she was in danger of missing her bus. She trotted for the elevator, missed it, paced around in a circle until the next one came, and then stood right behind its doors, waiting for it to open up.

  And when it did…he was there.

  Damian, in the flesh.

  He was messy, with streaks of dirt and dust across his face and in his black hair, but the clothes he wore were pristinely clean. And he was still as handsome as he’d always been—chiseled jaw, full lips, and golden eyes that seemed like they missed nothing.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey,” she replied reflexively. She made sure to step out of the elevator before he could press her back into it—her own body’s interest in that be damned.

  “I was coming to find you,” he said. His eyes drank her up and down. “I need my coat.”

  Andi frowned. In person, he seemed like less of a dick and possibly more desperate. She’d had those breakups before that were so unexpected and traumatic that she’d scoured her bedroom looking for their things to burn—or return. As in: “You left your ballpoint pen over here! Let me hand-deliver it to you, wearing only a trench coat and garters at two in the afternoon!” And she’d generally been smart enough to talk herself out of them, realizing that ballpoint pens were a renewable commodity, but pride was not.

  But…maybe Damian hadn’t been there yet?

  “I don’t have it,” she said, stepping around him, willing herself to be strong.

  “What do you mean, you don’t have it?” he asked, falling into step alongside her. Every time she dared a glance at him, he was burning through her with his eyes, and she flushed.

  “I mean exactly that. I don’t have it anymore.”

  He inhaled deeply and whipped his hair out of his face with a practiced hand. “Then, where is it?”

  “I don’t know.” Which was technically true? Because there was a fifty-fifty chance that Julian had already pawned it off for drugs. And she didn’t want to talk about Danny to Damian—he’d just try to swoop in and fix it with all his money, and then she’d owe him, and goddammit, she’d already done enough for Danny in her life. She got to keep some pride, okay?

  Damian strode out ahead of her as they left the building to block her path. “I’m not joking, Andi. I need it.”

  The way he was looking at her…his coat wasn’t all he needed. One word from her, one gesture, and he’d carry her away, and pieces of her longed to give him permission. Somehow, she maintained her common sense. “And I’m not joking either. It’s gone, all right?” And added, “It’s over,” because she needed to hear herself tell him that out loud.

  His jaw clenched, and the muscles in his shoulders bunched, then relaxed. “If it’s over, then why did you call?”

  Andi groaned, inside and out. “Because…remember what Austin was saying? About an orderly that triggered the mess in Zach?”

  Damian nodded briskly.

  “I think…I thought…I saw him last night. But to be fair, there’s like, a lot of bald people who work at the hospital. Maybe it’s the extra radiation exposure or something? It was late at night, I don’t know. It seemed like the right thing to do, though I’m regretting it now.”

  Damian looked past her at the hospital, and she could almost see his dragon-half right beneath his skin as he considered the building.

  “Just don’t do whatever it is that you’re thinking about,” she warned him.

  “And what’s that?” he asked, turning his attention back on her.

  “Tearing the place apart with your bare hands.”

  A smile flickered across his lips as he met her gaze. “And now?” he asked her, his voice low and meaningful as he looked at her with deep intent. All her memories of their night together in his car came rushing back, and she swallowed. It would be so easy for her to just give him another chance.

  She could see his golden eyes thinking the exact same thing, but then they narrowed. “Why do
you smell like men’s aftershave?”

  “What?”

  “It’s either aftershave…or cologne.” He tilted his head at her. “Who were you with?”

  She blinked and kept on blinking. Was she hearing him right? “Excuse me?”

  “You were with a man earlier. Who was he?”

  “You mean my uncle?” she said, her whole body full of disbelief. There had been another man there, yes—David, but Damian didn’t need to fucking know that. It was none of his business, and he’d only assume wrong besides.

  “Possibly,” Damian granted. “But just who is this uncle of yours?” His brow was furrowed in confusion, and all the lust she’d felt for him earlier was jostling up against a rising level of pissed-off-ness.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” she asked. Judging from his expression, apparently not, but two could play that game. “So, who was that woman on the phone?”

  “No one of concern,” he snapped, taking another step forward and inhaling deeply. He was close enough now that she could smell something medicinal on him. It took her a moment to remember what it was, though, considering the time.

  “Is that whiskey?” she asked, her voice rising. “At seven in the morning?”

  “So? It doesn’t work on me,” he said dismissively.

  “Tell that to the breathalyzer.” She shoved her fists into her pockets and saw her bus pull into the bus stop. “You’re not getting your coat back now, Mister Blackwood.”

  “And I don’t want it if it smells like that, Miss Ngo,” he told her, which felt a little like a slap. She gasped and bit her lips.

  “I’ve got to go,” she said, darting around him and jogging for the bus.

  “Andi, don’t!” he protested, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t slow down, and when she reached the bus’s door, she leaped on board.

  She stumbled down the aisle and took the first empty seat, happy to be away from Damian—only to find him standing right behind her.

  “Is this seat taken?” he asked.

  “It’s a free country,” she muttered, making herself small against the window. “Don’t you have a million-dollar car you should be driving in?”

  He sat down beside her. “I thought you said I shouldn’t be driving because I drank? You need to make up your mind.”

  “I? Need to make up my mind?” Andi said, shaking her head at him.

  Damian looked wounded. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

  “That seems like a habit of yours. You should probably look into it. With a therapist.”

  Damian snorted. “They’d commit me right when I got to the part about the dragon.”

  “And rightfully so.” Andi stared out the window at the rest of the cars on the street, full of normal people ready to go about their normal daytime lives. Every day she rode the bus home and looked out at them, she wondered what that was like. She turned back to Damian. “Look, you don’t know me, okay? I know you think you do, because of one great night and a background check, but I’m more than just some piece of paper you got printed out and a good lay.”

  One of his eyebrows rose. “I would at least say fantastic. Good isn’t good enough to describe you, Andi.”

  Andi rolled her eyes. “You’re not hearing me. I have things you don’t know about me! Things that maybe I don’t want you to know!” She was yelling loudly enough that other people on the bus were now breaking the bus-code-of-conduct—which was to completely ignore anything any other patron was doing up to and occasionally including public masturbation if the rider was doing it quietly—to frankly stare at them as Andi went on. “And you’re overbearing and sometimes an asshole, and you just assume that you’re right all the time, which is like a huge turnoff because if I wanted that in my life, I’d be dating a doctor already, so help me God!”

  Damian took the brunt of her anger silently until she was finished, then waited for her to catch her breath before responding. “Is that all?”

  “Most of it,” she said, before staring resolutely out the window, away from him.

  The bus rumbled to a stop, and more passengers got on before he spoke again, soft enough that she knew the words were just for her. “I know I may seem like that, Andi, but the only thing that feels right to me is you.”

  Even though her head was turned, she closed her eyes so she wouldn’t look. It was too easy to break when he said things like that and sounded like he meant them. But then the bus stopped again. She felt him stand, and she couldn’t help herself. “Where are you going?” she asked, turning toward him at last.

  “To change lines. This one doesn’t go up to the Briars,” he said, his golden eyes locked with hers.

  And who would’ve thought, billionaire Damian Blackwood knew the route of his city’s bus lines. She frowned. “I’m still mad at you.”

  He nodded gently. “I know, princess,” he said, then walked down the aisle and off the bus.

  Chapter 10

  Andi got off the bus at her stop and immediately went to Eumie’s bakery, conveniently located right under her apartment. “Give me all the halvah or give me death,” she announced, bursting through the door. She was instantly assaulted by the smells of delicious baked goods, cinnamon, sugar, lemon, coffee. The floor was spotlessly black-and-white checkered, and the glass cases with food inside them gleamed. Behind the counter was a wall with a mural of a map to Atlantis atop a crisp blue Mediterranean Sea, and the other wall portrayed Hercules fighting the Nemean lion—although it looked to Andi like the lion was about to win.

  Eumie came out of the back, somehow already carrying Andi’s morning chamomile and a pastry on a plate. “No one’s dying in here; the health inspectors wouldn’t like that.”

  “Neither would I, honestly,” Andi said, slumping into her usual seat. “Although it would make my life quite a bit easier.”

  “Want to talk about it?” Eumie asked, taking the seat across from her, handing over the tea and holding the pastry in reserve.

  “Yes and no,” Andi said. There was really no point in trying to hide anything from them, the non-binary baker was one of Andi’s best friends—but they didn’t like Damian on principle, mostly because Eumie had some. Whereas Damian Blackwood the Third’s official non-dragon public image would only buy principles if he could sell them later for a profit.

  Eumie’s eyebrows rose. “Is it man related? No, don’t bother telling me; I already know. You get sad about work, but only some dude could make you this pissed off. Unless it’s a dude at work.”

  “No. It’s Damian. Again.” Andi had caught Eumie up with the intricacies of her social life since seeing him last, and they knew Andi had decided to keep Damian at arm’s length.

  “What, is he like a stalker?” Eumie’s eyes narrowed dangerously.

  “No. He’s just intermittently persuasive.” Andi stared into her tea for answers and then sipped it. It was perfect, with two Splendas, God bless Eumie. “I just don’t want to be thinking about him. I need to be thinking about me. And Danny. And then, oh, God, Eumie, my uncle tried to set me up with someone last night.” She hung her head and groaned. “Why is all this happening to me?”

  “I don’t know, girl, but your life is like my version of TV. Keep going,” Eumie said with a spin of their hand.

  “So, the guy last night, at my uncle’s, was actually hot? And, into me? But—”

  “You couldn’t stop thinking about Damian,” Eumie predicted.

  “Yeah.”

  “What is it you even like about him?”

  “That’s such a good question…when I don’t even like him,” Andi said, as Eumie gave her a look. “No. He just pisses me off endlessly.”

  “Okay, so when he’s not doing that, then maybe? I mean, the boy’s a looker.”

  “I’m not shallow. Mostly,” Andi said, rocking back in her seat and staring off into space. “The whole saving the world thing is kind of hot,” she muttered to herself.

  “By not paying a logically appropriate amount of his taxes?”
Eumie asked, brow furrowing.

  Andi sighed and shook her head. She couldn’t very well tell Eumie about how Damian was a dragon or how he spent his nights. Because honestly, just like he didn’t know her, she hardly knew him.

  Eumie caught Andi’s hands around her mug to get her full attention. “How does he make you feel, Andi? That’s all that matters.”

  “Different. Special. Exciting.”

  “Well, you’re a person, not a puppy. Dig deeper.”

  Andi thought back to that morning and Damian’s deep golden eyes. “Seen. Sometimes. Like…he cares, sometimes, too. When I’m around him, I get the feeling like I can trust him, Eumie, and that he’d do anything for me. And that part’s kind of scary, Eumie, honestly. I don’t want that kind of power over anyone.”

  “I don’t know,” Eumie said, letting her hands go and leaning back. “I think you deserve that. It’d be about damn time. A man who actually puts you first.”

  “A man who is sometimes rude and sometimes hangs up in the middle of important phone calls?” Andi asked her.

  Eumie squinted. “You didn’t tell me about that.”

  “I know,” Andi said, letting her shoulders sink. “It’s…just hard is all.”

  Eumie watched her for a second, before pushing the pastry they’d set in front of themself over. “I think you should try this.”

  Andi took a bite without hesitation, and it was delicious. More so than anything, Eumie had ever given her. The buttery flakes crisped just right in her mouth before melting and covering her entire tongue with sweet perfection. People said that they were addicted to all sorts of things: alcohol, cigarettes, and caffeine, but what Eumie’d given her was on the level of heroin, and as she swallowed the final bite of it, Andi momentarily forgot all about Damian.