by Juniper Hart
She instantly felt foolish and then angry with herself. How could she have even started to believe that a stranger she had talked to for a couple of minutes would magically make her situation any better?
As Betty turned to walk back into the hospital, a sound caught her attention, and she glanced behind her shoulder. Something was flying just above the building, but Betty couldn’t reconcile what it was—at least, not logically.
As if in a trance, she stepped toward the form, a mass of wings and a long, teal tail.
Is that a…?
She gasped as the creature swooped down, his face level with hers, and Betty stepped back, startled.
The beast’s eyes were a smoky grey, and they were unmistakably the same as ones she had just been peering into on the floor of the emergency vehicle.
“Hayden?” she whispered.
The beast blinked and lowered his head. Somehow, Betty understood she needed to mount his back, and she glanced around, looking for some witness to the bizarre occurrence. Of course, though, no one was to be seen.
Gulping, she climbed atop the dragon’s back and squealed slightly as he soared back into the air, disappearing into the clouds.
“Where are we going?” she whispered, but she received no response.
As they flew, Betty wondered if she was dreaming. She had never felt more alive, more conscious, than when the fluffy white clouds parted and Hayden swept lower toward an imposing castle below.
Where are we? she wondered in awe as he gracefully landed in a courtyard. She slid off his back, shivering in anticipation as she watched him transform back into the gorgeous doctor with whom she had just had sex.
“What is happening?” she gasped, but Hayden only smiled, taking her hand.
“I have something to show you, remember?” he said, leading the way into the stone walls. “This is my castle.”
Again, the words made little sense to Betty, but she could do nothing except allow herself to be brought into the dank, cold walls, her pulse racing. She stared warily at Hayden, certain she was imagining everything she was seeing, even though she had little recourse or desire to end the fantasy she had concocted.
Grief and stress have gotten the best of me, she realized. When they stopped walking once they had reached a foyer, however, Betty’s breath was knocked from her chest.
She gazed up at the portraits hanging on the foyer’s wall and then back at Hayden. Her green eyes locked onto the painting of a regal-looking redhead in a stunning jade dress, standing beside a man who looked remarkably like Hayden.
But it can’t be, she thought. These portraits must be hundreds of years old, right?
“Do you recognize them?” Hayden asked quietly, watching her face.
“No way!” she gasped. “It’s just an uncanny resemblance.”
But her mind went to the magical, strange ride she had just taken, and it suddenly didn’t look like just an uncanny resemblance between the couple in the painting and herself and Hayden.
“She is you, and he is me,” Hayden told her softly. “This portrait was painted two hundred years ago.”
Betty gaped uncomprehendingly at him. “That doesn’t make any sense…”
He smiled sadly. “That is only because you don’t remember. But you will. Now that we have found one another again.”
Betty bit on her lip, and suddenly, flashes of memories began to swim through her mind, but they were gone before she could capture them fully.
“You are my mate,” Hayden said, as if the answer was obvious. “And I am yours.”
An explosion of relief rocked Betty’s body, but she could not say why. It was as if she inherently understood that everything was not hopeless, and that all Hayden had said was the truth.
“But my family—”
“Will be taken care of,” he assured her. “Your father will receive the finest medical care that money can buy. Your sister and brother will be moved into a lovely home in Gulfport.”
Betty did not claim to know why this was happening, but that didn’t stop her from being consumed with gratitude and comfort.
She averted her eyes and looked at her hands.
“And me?” she whispered. “What about me?”
Hayden’s grin widened broadly. “You will finish your school without having to work three jobs at the same time.”
She stared up at him hopefully. “And you?”
“I will wait for you like I always have,” Hayden responded, pulling her into his arms. “And then we will be together, as we should have been from the very beginning.”
Betty lowered her head into his chest and listened to the constant thud of his strong heartbeat.
And suddenly the memories of a past life she hadn’t believed in rushed back to her.
Whipping her head back, she gaped at Hayden, her mouth parting in shock.
“You remember now, don’t you?” he asked, and she nodded, tears of happiness filling her eyes. Memories her soul had buried deep within her flooded her mind, flashes of her past lives screening through her mind like a movie.
It was not a dream, nor was it a mere fantasy—past lives did exist.
Hayden was her soul mate, just as he had claimed.
I am in love with a dragon, Betty thought, the idea incredulous, even though that didn’t make it any less true.
For the first time in her life, she was filled with realization that everything was going to be all right not only for her family, but for herself, too.
Click Here to Read the Entire Shifter Pursuit Series
THE END
Part II
Fire Dragon - Element Dragons
By Alexis Davie
1
Sarah’s day continued to be awful when her motorcycle broke down outside the coffee shop that night.
She tried to fire the engine up again. Her bike puttered miserably for a little while before she felt bad for it and gave up. She tried a couple more times before realizing it was hopeless. The rain poured from the sky, leaking warm beads of water onto her clothes. She scampered back under the overhang of the shop to avoid getting any wetter, but the damage was done. Her cute pink blouse was stuck against her lithe body, exposing every single detail that she wanted to remain hidden.
She hadn’t known there was a chance of rain when she’d set off to work that morning, so she hadn’t planned for the weather. She didn’t have a car, so she would have still taken her motorcycle to work, but Sarah probably wouldn’t have left the shop so late. The sky was black, rolling with storm clouds that didn’t look like it was about to let up anytime soon.
“Oh, come on!” she said out loud, even though nobody was around to hear her despair.
She’d spent entirely too many hours at the coffee shop recently. She’d just opened the store a few months ago, and it was hard work. Coming in early. Leaving late. She worked from early daybreak to get everything fired up, to the late evening to clean everything up for the next morning. She’d been so burnt out that she hadn’t even considered checking the weather.
She pulled her phone out of her pocket and almost put her phone to her head before remembering her helmet. It had been a long, long day.
First, it was a grumpy old man that wanted a smoothie. She’d attempted to explain that the name of the shop was, Sarah’s Java Stop. They didn’t sell smoothies, nor did she know how to make them. Finally, she’d managed to convince him that he didn’t want a smoothie. Then he wanted a picture of his granddaughter’s face in the foam, just based off the little girl standing there.
He complained that Sarah’s customer service was terrible. Sarah threw up her hands in exasperation and handed him his latte. She hoped he never came back.
Grumbling, she took off her helmet and sifted through her contacts. She had lots of numbers, but very few of the contacts could be trusted to show up and take her home. An old coworker. A friend from college she hadn’t texted in two years. That kind of thing. Oh, and look, there was John… Nice guy. Handsome. R
omantic.
And unfaithful.
Finally, she decided to call a taxi and waste some of her hard-earned money to drive three miles across town. She was lucky to have a house so close to her business.
The last thing she wanted was for someone to steal her precious bike. It was a wonderful little machine. It got absurd gas mileage and was just like her—quick as a lightning bolt, modern, and if she was being honest with herself, drop dead gorgeous. She tugged the bike onto the sidewalk and hauled it into the store. It dripped rainwater all over her nice, expensive floors, but she didn’t care. All she wanted was to hurry home.
The prior night she hadn’t slept well… again. The dreams kept her up.
It always happened the same way. She’d be sleeping solidly and then she’d see glimmering red scales. She couldn’t make out the details of her dream, but she did remember the scaled creature moved quickly and made her tremble. Every time, she’d hear a scream. After having the dream dozens of times, Sarah realized she was responsible for the screaming.
What made her so afraid? What was the scaled beast? She didn’t know. The same dream had haunted her ever since she was a child, but the dream never aged. It was the same nightmare for twenty-four years. It was as if she was given season tickets to a movie that she didn’t want to see.
When her taxi arrived, she hustled over from under the awning and into the car. The driver attempted to make small talk, but Sarah just wasn’t in the mood. She gave quick, terse replies. Sarah had a lot of great qualities, but hiding her mood wasn’t one of them. If she was happy, she’d show it. If she was sad, she’d show it. If she was angry, she’d make extra damn sure that everybody knew.
Finally, the taxi arrived at her apartment building. As they pulled up, she saw a new car on the street where she normally parked. If her bike had worked, she would have been forced to drive around for a while to find somewhere to park.
The car was sleek and looked unbelievably fast. Despite her foul mood, it’s low, fire-red frame piqued her curiosity. Her apartment complex was a nice enough place. It had some artsy types in residence, but she had a hard time believing any of her neighbors could afford that car. The owner was either crazy rich or stuck deep, deep, deep in debt.
As the taxi stopped, she caught a glimpse of a sticker on the back windshield. The image resembled a stylized dragon’s head. Part of her wondered if it was some book series or a new video game.
Most of her didn’t care whatsoever.
She paid the driver and hustled up the sidewalk to her apartment complex. She was still pretty soaked. The driver had given her a special little tarp to sit on so she didn’t get water all over his seats. He’d also given out some free candies. He was gunning for a five-star review.
Sarah surveyed the car again on her way inside the building. She’d always had a thing for anything fast and dangerous. She’d even done some dirt bike racing back in her college days before she’d wiped out a few too many times. During one race in particular, during her senior year, she’d come up to a corner and lost control, which was something she rarely did.
She’d sailed out of the course and managed to get pinned in the bleachers through abnormally bad luck. Sarah had ended up with a serious concussion from it. When she recovered, her decisions teetered between going back into the sport or putting her wellbeing first.
Her mom had smiled when Sarah had brought the coffee shop up that Christmas.
“Honey,” she’d told her. “You have a lot more going on in that pretty head than just racing bikes your whole life. I’m not going to tell you what to do, but just think about your future.”
That’s not to say that Sarah took her advice right away, thought she probably should have. However, the following year, she decided to make it work and her mom even cosigned a loan to bring her dream to fruition.
Even with the rain, standing under the front of her building, the memory brought a smile to her lips. Her mom always said whatever she thought, she had no filter. That quality was the main reason they got along so well.
She took one last look at the car and opened the door to her building with her dripping helmet in her hands. As she walked in, she heard her boots echo on the wooden floors as she walked.
She tried rather unsuccessfully to stay quiet because she didn’t want to wake up Jamie, the crazy cat lady who lived downstairs.
Sarah saw Jamie’s red door and slowed her pace. Almost there. She could see the staircases that led up to the second floor.
The floor squeaked. Sarah’s throat jumped into her throat. She took another step…and then Jamie’s door opened.
“Sarah!”
“Oh, hey, Jamie.” She tried to force a smile. Jamie wasn’t a bad person, but she was a little strange and made Sarah slightly uneasy. “Sorry to wake you.”
Jamie touched Sarah on the shoulder affectionately. Sarah pulled back, trying to avoid looking rude. Sarah was a hugger. She showed affection through touch, but Jamie didn’t know her well enough to touch her. Social norms existed for a reason.
“Mittens is eating,” Jamie said.
“Just Mittens? What about the other ones?” Mentally, she slapped herself. No! No! Why, Sarah? Why did I ask this?
“Oh, they’re all sleeping!”
Jamie had hacked up a hairball one time, which was probably the most disgusting thing Sarah had ever seen. On a merely physical level, nasty. But it meant she’d been licking her cats, and to Sarah, that was way past the line of sanity. Now, every single time Sarah saw her, she remembered that horrific moment and struggled to avoid running away.
“You’re soaking,” Jamie said like Sarah hadn’t noticed.
“Oh,” Sarah said, looking down at her clothes. “Totally. My bike broke down and I had to hitch a ride.”
Why couldn’t she stop talking? All she wanted to do was go home, take a warm shower, and fall asleep in that ridiculously comfortable bed of hers.
“How did the date go?”
Sarah made the mistake of telling Jamie that she had joined a dating service. Bad idea. Now, every time Jamie caught her in the hallway, she wanted to know about Sarah’s dating life. Sarah didn’t want to talk about her dating life, least of all to Jamie. But now that she’d awakened that monster, it was her job to deal with it.
“The date was two nights ago. It was fine,” she lied. “He seemed like a nice enough guy.”
Well, that was true. He had been nice enough, but the guy had no backbone. It seemed as if his life’s mission was to apologize for everything. It was cold in the restaurant. Somehow that was his fault. How? She didn’t know. Her food had been just slightly undercooked. He felt just awful about that.
She needed someone who could inflame her passions and take her breath away with the slightest glance. She wasn’t interested in Joe Average. She deserved more. She deserved a freaking hero.
“Listen,” she said. “I, uh, I really want to head on up to my place and sleep. And I still have to shower. Catch you later?”
Jamie smiled and patted Sarah on her soaking shoulder gracelessly. Jamie was extremely socially awkward, which is probably why she licked cats.
“Sleep well,” she told Sarah.
Sarah almost said yeah, that’s unlikely after all those dreams, but at the last second, she caught herself. She was tired, not completely stupid. Saying something like that to Jamie would mean an automatic hour-long conversation. Instead, she just wished Jamie a good night and hustled up towards her apartment, leaving a small puddle behind her.
She saw her apartment door and started fishing for her keys. After finding the right one, she went to insert it into the lock on the door handle.
“Hey,” a guy said from behind her. “I wouldn’t do that.”
She jumped in surprise. He was standing uncomfortably close to her from behind, looking down at her with surprising focus. She turned and immediately knew she was looking at the owner of the car outside. He was dressed in expensive garb—a black suit and a fitted red shirt. S
arah was no fashion expert, but she could tell she was looking at custom-made attire from head to toe.
Even though his suit was professional, his hair screamed casual. He had spiked, almost frilled, pitch-black hair and oddly-colored orange eyes that watched her with surprising intensity.
“What the hell are you talking about?” she demanded. “You scared me half to death!”
“Oh, Sarah…you’re so feisty.” He gave her a dashing grin.
He was handsome, probably one of the hottest guys she’d ever seen. She noticed his unshaven face. She normally wasn’t into beards, but looking at him, she could definitely be into beards.
“Bad day?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.
“First,” she said, “I have no idea who you are and I don’t talk to strange men, even ones that look like you. Second, I’ve had an insanely irritating day. Third, how do you know my name?” She turned back to the door. “So, here’s what’s going to happen now. I’m going to go into my apartment and you’re going to leave. But tomorrow? I’d consider talking to you tomorrow when you’re not creeping up behind me when I am walking into my apartment alone. Sound good?”
He was still smiling. His orange eyes glittered. He reached for her hands that she pulled away. He didn’t seem even remotely distressed by her pulling back.
Nonchalantly, he said, “If you walk through that door, you’ll be killed.”
2
“Killed?” She hesitated. “What are you talking about? And you still didn’t explain how you know my name.”
He ran a hand through his thick hair, looking away for a moment. He walked away from her. She could see his muscles under his red shirt that caught the light nicely.
“Where should I start?” he said, as if asking himself the questions.
“You don’t make any sense. What are you talking about?” she asked, putting her hand on a hip. She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Forget it. I’m exhausted. I’m going to bed. We can have this weird conversation later…or never.”
