Amethyst Dragon (Awakened Dragons Book 5)

by Terry Bolryder

  Amethyst Dragon

  Terry Bolryder

  Contents

  Copyright

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Epilogue

  Terry Bolryder Reading List

  Copyright © 2016 by Terry Bolryder

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Prologue

  Dom looked through the curtain of his dark hair to the villagers crowding around him. Young, old, the faces blurred in front of him as they shouted.

  He was used to hiding who he was. He should have stayed in the shadows. When his father, a powerful dragon shifter, had left him with his mother, insisting it was better for him to stay hidden among humans, he hadn’t given Dom any guidance as to how to use his powers and when to ignore them.

  But sometimes they were hard to ignore. Sometimes he couldn’t just do nothing.

  That had been a mistake.

  “It’s his fault!” an angry voice cried, and cheers sounded. He could feel the bitter anger around him. The words of the villagers were like needles piercing his skin.

  And what hurt most of all was finally taking action, drawing all this attention, hadn’t done any good. He hadn’t been able to help Thurston, the one person who’d been kind to him.

  “I tried to stop it!” Dom said, covering his ears and crouching. He heard his mom at the edge of the crowd, trying to get to him, but the men holding torches wouldn’t let her through.

  “He’s brought bad luck to us all! A bad omen!”

  “He’s a little monster! An abomination!”

  “Sorcerer! Burn him!”

  He heard his mother crying over the rest. “He’s my son! Don’t touch him!”

  She was often distant, often watching him warily as if even she didn’t completely understand the creature she’d given birth to.

  He’d wanted to go with his father, but when he’d visited, he made it clear dragons of their kind were in danger and they couldn’t travel together. And when he was old enough, he would come find him.

  Somehow, Dominic doubted that. It had been years. He was all of fourteen now, and no one had come for him.

  He covered his ears tighter as he heard a ringing in his head. Then a thud as something whacked the side of his face. He looked up sharply to see a girl child in front of him, eyes narrowed in disgust.

  She’d thrown a rock at him.

  It started a ripple effect as other villagers picked up small stones and began to throw them, and his mother let out shrieks of distress.

  Yet despite the pain of the glancing blows, none of this was as bad as knowing Thurston was dead and he could have saved him—if anyone would listen.

  What was the point of his powers if he could do nothing about what he saw? What was the point of lingering in the shadows?

  “He tried to say he talked to my gran!” a boy shouted. “She’s dead! Witchcraft.”

  Another mistake, trying to help one of the many echoes who visited.

  Dammit, why wasn’t there anyone around to tell him how to be who he was?

  Maybe he wasn’t meant for this world. Maybe he should let them throw rocks until he was dead. Or burn him. But the problem was normal things didn’t hurt him as much. His skin was strong and tough.

  Still, at this moment, he felt he could die of a broken heart. He’d finally tried to trust. He’d put aside his fear of being considered crazy and tried to help.

  Everything had gone wrong.

  Each rock that hit couldn’t penetrate to the place where he was truly in pain. Where the grief felt it would smother him.

  But the shouts were rising, the people moving in. The rocks were getting bigger.

  They were angry. They’d lost children. And they wanted someone to blame—other than an uncaring universe. They wanted blood.

  And why not take his? He wasn’t good for anything anyway.

  But a seething, quiet anger took hold of him. The whispers of “freak” and “monster,” when all he’d tried to do was quietly keep to himself. The constant stares, the cold shoulders. The way they had never tried to get to know him. The way they didn’t listen when he attempted to tell them what was wrong. What was going to happen.

  Anger flared in him at their stupidity. At the futility of everything.

  He rose slowly, rocks still pinging off him as the villagers came closer, closing in around him in the darkness, lanterns bright.

  I don’t deserve to die here, a dark, quiet voice inside him said. I have done nothing wrong.

  His heart pounded. Could he believe that? Could he believe he deserved to live? To escape? When Thurston hadn’t?

  And could these people actually kill him?

  He saw one in the crowd raise a weapon. Thurston’s dad, looking insane with his reddened eyes gleaming in the darkness. “I’ll end you, abomination,” he said, stepping forward with a loaded bolt aimed directly at Dom’s heart.

  Dom looked at his chest and then at the much bigger man. Observing his twisted expression, Dom knew there was nothing he could say.

  The angry voice buzzed in him again. The part of him he never acknowledged, pushed as far away as he could.

  I deserve to live, too. I have a purpose in this life.

  That fragment imparted him hope. Perhaps if he ran, if he stayed solitary, helping here and there and then running before they could come after him, he could survive and, even better, be useful somehow.

  The thought filled him with rising, warm fire, cutting through the grief and confusion and fear.

  The bolt was pointed, and he heard the click of it pulling back and realized it was about to end him. Strong enough to pierce even his skin.

  I don’t want to die. The thought surged through him as he felt a wave of power blast out of him and away from his body in all directions. Like purple fire, it engulfed the townsfolk, and they all dropped to the ground in instant agony, holding their heads.

  “Son, run!” his mother yelled, waving from the ground. “Get out of here!”

  He couldn’t look back. He had to get away before they recovered.

  He hadn’t wanted to hurt everyone, but he couldn’t let them kill him either.

  He took one last look at the village and the glowing torches and ran off into the night.

  As he fled, he felt his wings growing out of his back, his skin hardening, scales covering him. His whole form changed in the darkness, and he took flight, feeling powerful, feeling huge, feeling light.

  His dark-purple form blended into the darkness as he rose over the trees into a cloudless, midnight sky.

  Up here, he was free. Up here, no one could hurt him. And as long as he always stayed mobile, alone, he could survive.

  That was how it had to be.

  Chapter 1

  Lana looked down at the flowers at her door in consternation, rubbing a hand over her forehead.

  “Dom,” she muttered, picking them up and looking for a tag, though
there wasn’t one. Still, there was only one person it could be, a certain stubborn dragon shifter who was a mystery to everyone else but seemed mildly obsessed with her.

  He’d rescued her last month when the dragons had infiltrated the castle where she was being held after a kidnapping. Her friend Bridget had been unwilling to give up on her and had found her after months of searching.

  No one else had cared. It was a thought that still haunted her at times. If it hadn’t been for Bridget…

  She shuddered and brought the roses inside. They were a rare, dark purple that almost certainly was brought on by some kind of magic, and they were intoxicating to look at.

  But it didn’t matter.

  Despite Dom’s continued insistence on wooing her, his odd gestures, his one forced kiss—that shamed her by how much she enjoyed it—she wasn’t looking for a shifter to mate. She couldn’t fathom it, in fact.

  Not after what Galen, one of her captors, had put her through.

  Bridget seemed happy enough with her mate, Alistair, another dragon, and the other mates seemed happy, too. But it wasn’t for Lana. Even the word “mate” made a shudder run through her, thinking of Galen’s hands on her, caressing her as she struggled to fight him off.

  Every time, he’d come closer to violating her, but the night he’d nearly managed it was the night Dom had come with his friends and beat the shit out of him. Dom had only stopped before killing the wolf at his friend’s insistence, and Lana had to admit she felt slight regret that Galen was still out there and not lying in some grave.

  Heaven knew he deserved it.

  She rubbed her shoulders, feeling cold just thinking of him, and stared at the flowers on her dresser. A slight smile came to her lips, but she pushed it away.

  She couldn’t fall for a shifter. Even if Dom were exactly the type of man she liked. Tall, hot, muscled, with that tatted, tortured bad-boy look that drove women crazy. His black-as-night hair was long and shaggy, lit through with strands of purple that somehow only appeared more masculine, and his eyes were an icy blue that popped against long, dark lashes and tanned skin.

  His features were swoon worthy—sharp, straight nose, strong jaw that ticked when he was pissed, full lips, large eyes, arched brows. Classically handsome, like a dark, solitary angel.

  But still, she couldn’t lead him on. As soon as they let her leave this mansion, as soon as they knew she was safe from the shifters who were chasing her, she was going back to her old life as an ordinary human. Back where she felt safe.

  She stood, flowers in hand, and walked down the hallway to Bridget’s room. Bridget was often in there in the morning, doing freelance design just for fun. Right now, she was also working on a website for Lana’s upcoming fashion line she’d been designing before she was kidnapped.

  She knocked, and the door opened quickly. Bridget’s friendly, calm face appeared, smiling.

  “Come on in,” she said with a wave.

  Lana bit her lip. “Sorry. Did I interrupt you?” She hated feeling like a burden after all Bridget already done for her.

  “No,” she said. “Besides, I can always take a break for you.”

  Lana sighed and sat on the bed as Bridget shut the door so they could have privacy. “I don’t know why you go so far for me.”

  Bridget grinned and sat back at her desk. Her green eyes glanced at the flowers in Lana’s hands, but she refrained from commenting. “You were the first person to truly accept me. Be kind to me. You watched out for me when no one else wanted to talk to the awkward homeschooled girl. You took me under your wing at a time when I was wholly alone. And you’re my best friend.”

  “I’m lucky to have you,” Lana responded. “And anyone who couldn’t see that is an idiot. I’m the one who gained a great deal in a friend.”

  “Anyway, what did you need?” Bridget asked, eyeing the flowers again.

  Lana worried her lip. “Um. Just… It’s Dom again.”

  Bridget smirked knowingly. “Still at it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Dragons are like that when they find their mate,” Bridget declared.

  Lana suppressed a shudder of disgust at the word, trying not to recall Galen’s touch. “You think he feels that way?” she asked. “He’s never said as much.”

  “He can’t,” Bridget said. “You’ve expressed a hatred of shifters in general, the mate thing in particular. He’s not going to talk about mating when it seems to be the thing you hate most.”

  “It is,” Lana said. “But it’s not a hollow promise. I really mean it. I’m not going to be anyone’s mate.”

  “That wolf you were with…” Bridget began. “He wasn’t—”

  Lana put up a hand. “I wasn’t with him. I just—” She sighed. “Forget it.”

  “I’m here if you want to ever talk about it,” Bridget said softly. “I know it hurt you—”

  “I’m fine.” She was always fine. The happy one. The one who helped others and kept the parties going and made people feel comfortable.

  This scared, damaged person that had been rescued from the tower—it wasn’t who she was.

  She needed to get back to her world and shed the fearful skin she’d grown. Even if sometimes she thought it wasn’t going to just be that easy.

  But that was a horrible thought, one she didn’t want to tend. Instead, she’d just push down the bad feelings and hope she could outrun them one day.

  “Lana,” Bridget said hesitantly. “Your feelings are safe with me. I’m here if you need anything.”

  Lana forced a smile. Bridget didn’t deserve to hear the dark things in her soul. The effects the kidnapping and imprisonment had. Sweet, understanding Bridget deserved to enjoy her honeymoon withe her hot man. Dragon. Whatever.

  Lana slid off the bed. “How do I get rid of him?”

  “You can’t.” Bridget shrugged. “He’s your bodyguard right now.”

  “Right,” Lana said. “Isn’t that, like, a misuse of his duty?”

  Bridget pressed her lips together and wound her long, dark-blond hair in one hand, as she always did when nervous. “I don’t know,” she said. “The dragons here are all still figuring things out. And I mean… I don’t think they understand how humans feel about the mating thing. To them, it’s just fate, and they’ll do anything to make it happen. Dom probably thinks he’s doing all the right things.”

  “So how do I get him to see he isn’t?” Lana asked.

  “You could try talking to him.”

  Lana bit the inside of her cheek. That was a bad idea. Every time she was in his presence, she felt weak in the knees and couldn’t remember what she’d been trying to say as soon as those icy blues pinned on her. “I don’t feel like I can talk to him.”

  “That’s not good,” Bridget said. “You should be confident talking to your guard.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Lana replied. Then she gave Bridget a rueful smile. “And seriously, is anyone? Half the people here think he’s crazy. Even the dragons don’t really understand him, and they just talk to him when he comes down to share something with them. They use his power, but they don’t really know him. No one does.”

  “Maybe you could,” Bridget suggested.

  “Maybe, if he’d stop with the heavy courtship stuff.” Lana exhaled harshly. “Seriously, I don’t need this right now.”

  “Go talk to him,” Bridget urged. “I don’t think he’s a bad guy. I can come with you if you want.”

  “No,” Lana said, taking a deep breath and straightening her spine. She was no wilting flower. She’d be able to stay focused this time. Able to tell him what she was thinking.

  She hugged Bridget, told her she’d see her at lunch, and then walked out, holding the flowers.

  Dom’s room was on the complete opposite end of the upstairs hallway, and she started toward it.

  Just remember, she told herself as her heart started pounding, he’s a shifter. Just like Galen.

  Dom was pacing in his room nervously, wondering i
f Zach’s latest romantic advice would work with Lana when nothing else had.

  “Calm down,” Zach said, leaning back in Dom’s favorite chair. “Ladies love flowers.”

  Dom leveled a glare at the onyx dragon, their unofficial leader. He had his suspicion about Zach’s expertise in wooing women, but he didn’t really have access to anyone else, and he certainly didn’t want to take dating tips from semi-sociopathic Alistair, the diamond dragon. His mate had softened him a lot, but he still was the last person Dom would ask about romance.

  “I don’t think any of it is working,” he said.

  Zach folded his arms. “Give it a minute, would you? Good things are worth working for.”

  “It’s not the work I’m worried about,” Dom muttered. “It’s the wait.”

  A knock sounded at the door, and Zach looked at Dom, wondering if he was expecting someone.

  Of course he wasn’t. No one came up here. Zach was the first. And only recently had Dom even allowed him in. Now that he’d met Lana and discovered she was his mate, he’d decided not to go back to sleep and to continue working with the other dragons.

  And that meant getting to know them, at least a little. As dangerous as that could sometimes be, he was sure Lana was worth it.

  He walked to the door and peeked through the tiny crack. It was her. He could scent her delicious, smoky vanilla fragrance. “It’s her,” he croaked. “What do I do? She’s never come to my room.”

  Zach grinned. “Maybe the flowers worked.”

  Alarm moved through him. “You need to hide,” he snapped. “Get in the closet.”

  “I beg your pardon—”

  “Do you want me to have a mate or not?” Dom snarled, and Zach put up his hands and walked to the closet, muttering as he shut himself inside.

  “I know you’re in there!” Lana called out in that feisty voice. “I can hear you moving!”

  Dom sighed, taking a deep breath to gather his composure. He’d been alone most of his life. He still wasn’t really sure how to interact with people. But he was willing to try with Lana. He liked everything about her. Had since he’d seen her. Not when he’d rescued her, but before that, in a vision. She’d come to him so clearly, clearer than any face ever before, and he’d known she was his mate.