by Becca Van
Hidden Dragons 3: Fated Mates
When Special FBI Agent, Calysta Adani, is sent to Rock Springs, Wyoming to investigate missing people and the murder of the sheriff, she knows something very weird is going on, but what's even stranger are the erotic dreams she's been having.
The moment Caly sees Lance De Luca, Aiden Tittle, Andre Carr, and Alex Trump she's drawn to them, but when they tell her they are dragon shifters and that she is their mate she thinks they're a couple of sandwiches short of a picnic. But how is a girl supposed to resist them when they set her body on fire?
The bond between her and the four men is weak and even though they explain that she is theirs she's never jumped into the deep end without taking a long hard look. With each minute in their company she weakens a little more and she finds out she can’t resist them after all. But will she be able to survive the coming battle?
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 48,456 words
HIDDEN DRAGONS 3:
FATED MATES
Becca Van
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
HIDDEN DRAGONS 3: FATED MATES
Copyright © 2015 by Becca Van
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-772-4
First E-book Publication: October 2015
Cover design by Les Byerley
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
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www.SirenPublishing.com
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Prologue
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
Epilogue
About the Author
HIDDEN DRAGONS 3:
FATED MATES
BECCA VAN
Copyright © 2015
Prologue
Lance ran back to the field after making sure the dragonlings were safely hidden away. He’d made Edrick promise to stay in the cavern and to not let anyone out. The lair was secure and safe thanks to Merlin’s magic and couldn’t be seen by the human eye. Hunters were another matter.
His knees weakened and nearly buckled when he saw the devastation. Dragons lay upon the ground dead or dying and Merlin was in a magical battle with Rose Medwin, the evil bitch of a witch.
He hurried over to the where the women were gathering weapons and touched Lady Guinevere’s shoulder to garner her attention. “You need to go and hide.”
“How can we?” she wailed at him as she lifted the long, heavy sword with ease. “Our mates are being slaughtered. We cannot leave them to battle alone.”
“Your children…” Lance didn’t finish his statement. He looked over to where Merlin and Rose were fighting and nearly sighed in relief when he saw the wizard had the upper hand. When the witch, Rose, screamed loud and long as if calling a battle cry, his heart flipped in his chest and he gripped the hilt of his sword, ready to jump into the fray. Hunters poured out from amongst the trees on all sides and Lance wondered if they would get out of this alive.
He met Lady Daria’s gaze, and although there were tears and fear in her eyes, she pushed her shoulders back and her chin high. His heart flipped over with pride and when he glanced down he saw that she was holding the handle of a mace. She probably wouldn’t have the strength to lift the heavy metal weapon from the ground but she was willing to try for him, his flight pod brothers and the other dragons and mates. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and sequester her away with the dragonlings but his fated mate was stubborn enough to argue with him and there wasn’t time. He and his flight pod brothers had been courting their mate, Lady Daria, for a sennight and although she had finally agreed that very morn, he, Galahad, and Gawain hadn’t had the chance to complete the mating bond.
When Lady Guinevere began to give orders to the other ladies, Lance glanced toward Merlin, and when he saw that the witch and wizard were only yards apart, he moved his hand to the hilt of his sword, ready to fight and defend.
“Do not,” Merlin spoke directly into Lance’s mind. “You will not fight this day. Get the women out of here.”
“Lady Guinevere, ladies, please, we must leave.” He tried once more to talk her and the other ladies into hiding.
“No,” she cried, tears streaming down her face as she avoided his outstretched hand and began to run toward her mate, Arthur. She stopped and turned to look at him with a determined glint in her eye. “Please promise me you will care for our children.”
Lance didn’t like what he thought she was about to do but vowed to protect her and the other women with his life, but he also couldn’t refuse her anything when she asked. If it weren’t for her, Arthur, and Merlin, he and the other knights would
have died years ago. He took a step forward and met her gaze and nodded.
“Say the words, Sir Lancelot Du Lac, Knight of the Round Table,” Lady Guinevere demanded.
“I promise to look after the young ones.” Lance placed his fist on his heart as he swore his fealty.
“As if they were your own,” Lady Guinevere added.
Lance nodded, his fist still on his chest, resting above his heart. “As if they were my own.”
“Thank you, old friend.”
Lance saw relief in his friend’s mate’s eyes and just as she turned the other women hurried over to stand close to her, their hands holding what obsidian-tipped weapons they had been able to find or remove from dead hunters, all of them ready to fight. He didn’t want the women fighting alongside their men because he knew they would end up dying. Even though they had enhanced strength and senses after being claimed by their mates, except for Lady Daria, their strength and numbers wouldn’t be enough to win.
After glancing over to check on his flight pod brethren and seeing that Galahad and Gawain were holding their own, he took a step to follow the women, prepared to give his last breath to save them, but a bright blinding light began to pulse and expand, freezing him in his tracks.
He squinted to better see and saw that Merlin’s and Rose’s magic were combining. The light from Merlin’s staff was so white and bright and he watched in awe as the stream of the purest white magic emanating from Merlin’s staff twined with the red streak coming from Rose’s hand.
Just then a loud crack echoed across the field. Merlin’s free hand lifted and pointed directly at him. His mouth gaped with awe when another bolt of white light shot from Merlin’s hand and hit him in the chest. He staggered back at the force of power and the pain, too much to bear, sent him to his knees. Fire raced through his body and his whole frame shook and shuddered in agony.
At first he thought Merlin had lost his mind and was trying to kill him but as the quaking in his muscles increased so did the sensation of power. His body had already been muscular from all his sword training and then being turned into a dragon shifter, but they began to bulge even more and he wondered if his muscles would rip apart his skin. Fiery tingles raced across his flesh, and he wondered if his clothes and the hair on his body would be singed away.
A loud roar sounded in his ears and his blood felt like it was boiling. And then a low rumble began to tremble the ground beneath his very knees. He pitched forward, catching himself on his hands so his face didn’t hit the ground and as he opened his eyes all he could see was pure white light. The field was illuminated to the point where nothing was visible, the roaring in his ears grew louder until his eardrums began to reverberate and as he pushed to his knees and off of his hands so he could cover them, an explosion ripped through the night.
Lance didn’t remember falling to the ground nor closing his eyes, but when he opened them he was staring up at the dark star-studded sky, and he blinked to clear his spotty vision. Ash rained down on his supine body and with a groan he pushed himself up into a sitting position, his hand already on the hilt of his sword as he looked around.
Silence prevailed and the whole field was empty. That’s when he realized that the ash was what was left of his dragon kin, their mates, Merlin, the witch, and the hunters.
He rolled over to his side. A low tortured groan rumbled up in his chest and left his mouth. He roared with grief and fury until there was no air left in his lungs and his stomach purged. When he’d finished vomiting, he rose to his feet, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and shouted to the heavens. Tears rolled down his face but he didn’t wipe them away. He had lost everyone he cared about, including his flight pod brothers and his fated love.
How was he supposed to live when everyone else was dead? How could he go on without his flight pod brothers and his mate? How could he survive when his heart had been ripped apart?
The pain was unendurable and he once more sank to his knees as he screamed out his agony. How long he knelt on the ground crying out his grief he had no idea, nor did he care. He didn’t consciously draw his sword from his scabbard, nor did he remember moving his arm until the tip of his weapon pressed against the thick vein in his neck. The muscles in his arm tensed and just as he was about to draw the blade across his skin, a warm gentle breeze washed over his face. The scent on the breeze had him drawing it deep into his lungs and the tightness in his chest eased minimally.
He closed his eyes as another sob escaped his mouth and savored the phantom sensation of his dead mate’s touch.
Small innocent faces began to pass across his mind’s eye and the words he’d said to Lady Guinevere echoed in his ears. He couldn’t break his vow no matter how much he wanted to die. His sword arm dropped to his side, the blade made a thunking sound as it hit the ground and he lowered his chin toward his chest.
No matter how much pain he was in, he had to go on. Nine innocent boys were waiting back at the lair for him and their parents to come and tell them everything was all right.
How was he supposed to tell them their parents were dead?
What did he know about raising young boys?
His questions didn’t matter, nor did the answers. Nothing would ever be right again.
Lancelot Du Lac would endure as long as he had to and when his promise was fulfilled he would end his life so he could be with his mate and his flight pod brothers once more. Until then he would take each day as it came, train the dragonlings to fight, to keep the humans safe. He would nurture them as if they were his own so they would know love and he would teach them to be kind and just.
When they found their mates his job would be done and he could join his dragon kin in the heavens.
Chapter One
Lance bolted upright and drew great gulps of air into his lungs. Sweat coated his skin and his limbs trembled. No matter how long he’d been alive, the dream was always the same. He’d never forget the horror of that fateful night so long ago.
He’d never understood why he’d been the one ordered to watch over and protect the children or why he had been spared. One of the others would have done just as well. Although he loved the younger dragons like they were his own, he was so much older than they were and they all had their flight pod brothers.
Lance swung his legs over the side of the bed and scrubbed a hand over his face. It didn’t matter that he was surrounded by the youthful dragons, sometimes his heart felt so empty and he felt so alone. And now more so than ever since Belinda and Nikita were now living in the lair.
He loved those women like they were his daughters and he was glad to see Ed, Eli, and Erwin as well as Randy, Rex, and Russ so happy and in love.
Aiden, Alex, and Andre were a worry, though, and he hoped the three dragons would find their mate soon, too. He’d seen the envious looks they’d given the other shifters as they interacted with their mates and the sadness in their eyes.
Lance pushed his thoughts aside as he glanced over at the digital clock on his bedside table and sighed when he saw that it was only 2:00 a.m. He’d only been asleep for a little over an hour and although he was exhausted, he didn’t want to go back to sleep. The dream plagued him like clockwork but nothing he did to tire himself out before going to bed stopped it from bombarding him with the memories. He rose to his feet and headed to the bathroom. After a quick refreshing shower the ache in his tense muscles dissipated and he walked back to his bedroom to deal with his damp sheets and then with a sigh of resignation climbed back into bed.
How many nights had he lain here staring at the ceiling, loneliness and grief plaguing him? He’d been alone for nearly two thousand years, but the worst part had been the last three centuries. Having found and lost his fated mate as well as his flight pod brothers and all his other dragon shifter friends and their women, had nearly done him in and he wondered how much more solitude he would have to endure.
He didn’t resent the fact that he had been the only adult left standing, at least not anymo
re. He’d come to terms with the guilt of surviving a long time ago and he’d put everything he had into training the younger dragons and keeping them safe, but he was so tired of it all.
Maybe when the last of the shifters found their mate he could finally seek out peace. They had mates to love them and care for them. They had a reason to live. Not like him. His reasons for continuing on were coming to an end and hopefully very soon he would be able to join his friends and mate.
Tiredness pressed down on him and his eyelids became too heavy to keep open. He turned onto his side in his cold empty bed and hoped the dream wouldn’t revisit him this night. Once the memories had played out in his dreams, they usually didn’t recur in the same night, unless it was the anniversary of the great tragedy. He’d learned to stay awake through the dark hours, although that didn’t stop the dreams from happening. Finally his body began to relax and he gave in to the blessed relief of sleep.
* * * *
Calysta eased into the parking space outside of the Sheriff’s Department in Rock Springs, Wyoming. She was tired and stiff from driving for nearly seven hours straight with only a quick pit stop for gas, a quick lunch, and toilet break. The last thing she wanted to do was meet with acting Sheriff Reece House, but she had a job to do, and she had sworn to uphold the law and the Constitution of America. With a tired sigh she got out of the car, locked it, and headed up the steps.
When she entered the office her gaze took everything in at a glance and then her eyes landed on the drawn pale face of a man who looked even more tired than she felt. He had laugh lines around his eyes and face, but right now his face was tight with stress and in a frown. She could tell by the way his eyes were slightly squinted that he had a headache and by the way his shoulders were hunched he looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.
