by Alisa Woods
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Shifters in Seattle
True Alpha (Book 1)
Dark Alpha (Book 2)
A True Alpha Christmas (Book 3)
River Pack Wolves
Jaxson (Book 1)
Jace (Book 2)
Jared (Book 3)
Wilding Pack Wolves
Wild Game (Book 1)
Wild Love (Book 2)
Wild Heat (Book 3)
Wild One (Book 4)
Wild Fire (Book 5)
Wild Magic (Book 6)
NEW!
Fallen Immortals
Kiss of a Dragon (Book 1)
Heart of a Dragon (Book 2)
Fire of a Dragon (Book 3)
Chosen by a Dragon (Book 4)
Seduced by a Dragon (Book 5)
Touched by a Dragon (Book 6)...coming soon
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Seduced by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 5)
Copyright © 2017 by Alisa Woods
January 2017 Edition
All rights reserved.
Sworn Secrets Publishing
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author. For information visit:
Alisa Woods
Cover by Steven Novak
Seduced by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 5)
Paranormal Fairytale Romance
~*~
Falling in love was never in the cards for Leonidas. An angry witch made sure of that—if he loses his heart, he loses his life. But the treaty guaranteeing peace will die with him, unless he wins the True Love of a woman and she bears him a dragonling. When a fiery red-headed witch comes along with plans of her own, five hundred years of guarding his heart and opening his bed might not be enough to protect him.
Because Love is Magic… and the fate of the mortal and immortal worlds depends on Rosalyn and Leonidas not only opening their hearts, but surviving a Love that’s True…
The FALLEN IMMORTALS series is a modern Beauty and the Beast story with flaming HOT dragon shifters, vengeful Dark Fae, and beguiling fallen angels. Only readers over 18 should embark on this epic series of dangerous love that only an immortal might withstand.
Lucian and Arabella
Kiss of a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 1)
Heart of a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 2)
Fire of a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 3)
Leonidas and Rosalyn
Chosen by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 4)
Seduced by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 5)
Touched by a Dragon (Fallen Immortals 6)...coming soon
Leonidas needed a way to die.
He ran straight at the cave wall, head first, and bashed himself senseless. At least, he vaguely remembered doing that when he woke up with his scaly dragon face flat on the floor. It was stupid, but it was worth a try. His wyvern form was even tougher than his normal bullet-proof skin and inherent dragon healing powers. He’d tried slashing his wrists, but his fae runes just scurried to heal them. He could keep re-cutting, but when he passed out from the blood loss, the wounds would heal, and he’d wake up still very much alive. Repeated attempts just kept him out longer while his blood regenerated.
It was fucking hard to kill a dragon.
He dragged his sorry wyvern ass up to the front of the cave—it was a pocket of mountain he’d carved out over a decade ago, once he got close to the end of his days. At least he’d made it to his tomb before he lost his mind entirely, which meant Rosalyn was safe from his wyvern’s savage need to take her by force, seal her with his dragonfire, and then rape her until he impregnated her with his child. A shudder ran through him with that horrifying thought. He’d flown away from the keep as fast as he could, then he’d thrown up the protection runes around his tomb that would forever lock his beast inside. His wyvern, with its beastly mindlessness, would be trapped, unable to open the magic cage he’d summoned.
The only problem? Half a day had passed, and he was still in his right mind.
Leonidas sat at the lip of the cave, folding his wings tight against his back and watching the sun sink into a formless gray mist that hovered over the forest. The sun flamed red like a campfire, unlike the sizzling blue of magical fire. Perhaps, if he filled the cave with dragonfire, he could incinerate himself. Probably a lot of agony but not, in the end, deadly.
A chill breeze swept up from the rocky canyon below and reminded him that the wards only kept out immortal creatures—or locked them inside—but was nothing against the wind or the rain. His cave was a tomb, not the fucking Holiday Inn, and he’d likely die of exposure before anything else. Although it was still late summer, and the dragonfire in his blood made him impervious to the cold. Even in that way, he was hard to kill.
He reached a bronze talon toward the shimmering magic that encased his tomb. The magic sparked and sizzled and threw his scaly hand back. A raw burning sensation skittered across his talons. He couldn’t pass through the wards, but if he charged at them full speed, he might shock or burn the crap out of his body. Painful, for sure, he’d be charred, not dead. There was just no way to end things quickly in the tomb.
He sighed and leaned his serpentine neck back against the rough rock, wings tucked against the wall. His tail flicked along the cave floor, kicking up the decade of dust that had accumulated since he’d prepared it for his likely demise. He hadn’t planned on living here for any length of time—his wyvern was supposed to rob him of his intellect, his reasoning, his conscious state. He was supposed to be a wild beast. Instead, he was of the form of a beast, but still the mind of a man. Not the raging monster he was promised at the end of his life.
Why?
With his mind still intact, he could easily undo the wards and release himself. What then? Go in search of some magically-enhanced poison? Find an angel blade and lop off his head? Even that would be tough to execute—he considered slitting his throat with his talons, but that presented the same challenge as his wrists. He was just too fast at healing. And leaving the tomb had its own risks—at any moment, he might be kicked out of this strange state of suspended animation and fully unleash the mindless beast that writhed just under the surface of his scaly, bony, armored skin.
And he knew right where his beast would head first—Rosalyn Thorne.
He huffed a sad laugh. Of course, a witch would be his undoing. The poetic justice of it was just too perfect. And he’d been too eager for her from the start. He should have seen that from a mile away, but apparently, that wasn’t the way love worked. He was blind to it—blindly stubborn about it—even as he knew the danger grew near. He just couldn’t help the way she drew him in. Love has a power all its own. His brother Lucian said something to that effect, but Leonidas never thought it would be him who would be helpless in the face of that power. That he would be captivated so completely by a woman who literally wanted nothing to do with him.
Was he just craving something he couldn’t have? Was he that pathetic?
But no… the curse was nothing if not specific. His love for Rosalyn was as real and obvious as the bronze scales of his tail catching the reddish sunfire of the setting sun. And he knew w
hy. She was selfless and brave, funny and tough, smart and sexy as hell. She was a treasure the likes of which he’d never known—or maybe never gave himself the chance to discover—and he’d fallen hard and fast. At least, she was safe from him now, even if his death would be a slow and agonizing one, pining away in his tomb. That he would be conscious for it was a particularly cruel twist. There was no end to the power of Meridi’s curse and its ability to make him suffer maximally right until the end.
A spot of light danced around the cave, rousing Leonidas from his stupor of self-pity. He traced it outside the cave, where rushing fast toward him was a silver dragon, his shiny scales catching the light and reflecting it into the pocket of hollowed granite where Leonidas sat.
Leksander.
Leonidas’s heart lurched, and he scrambled up from his repose on the cave floor. He and Leksander had made a pact—whoever went wyvern first, the other would end it quickly. And now his brother was winging toward him, a silver bullet come to end his torment. Leonidas was ready... although his heart was pounding out of his chest at the sight. Despite hours of trying to effect his death on his own, the prospect of it winging toward him charged him anew. His tail swished the cave behind him, and his blood rushed in his ears.
He stood, wings spread but outwardly as calm as he could manage, while Leksander landed at the edge of the cave entrance. His silver talons screeched against the granite as he grabbed his purchase. He stayed back from the protection of the wards and peered intently at Leonidas, trapped in his magical cage.
My brother? Leksander’s thoughts reached him as the ice-blue eyes of his dragon raked across his body. Leonidas’s wyvern dragon was bronze, like his normal dragon, but with none of the smooth, elegant form and burnished scales. His wyvern was bony and brutish and ridged with hardened scales, as rough and wild in appearance as his mind was supposed to be.
Still here, Leonidas sent the thought in return. Fucked until the end, it would appear.
Leksander reared back, leaping away from the ledge and lifting into the air. He flew a short ways off, then turned back, looping toward the cave. Twice more he circled. He was outside the reach of Leonidas’s thoughts. When Leksander finally returned, he once again alit at the edge of the cave, just barely clinging to the lip where the barrier of the wards didn’t reach… only this time he shifted into his human form.
“Drop the wards,” his brother said.
Did you bring an angel blade? Leonidas sent the thought to him. Because I don’t think you can strangle me in human form, my brother. Even if I let you in, my true wyvern wildness might emerge on the cusp of death. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to die in this tomb alongside him. Or worse, fail to keep him contained and let his wyvern loose to go attack Rosalyn.
“Let me in, and we’ll talk,” Leksander said calmly.
Leonidas frowned. All right, but once you’re inside, I’m raising the wards again. Just in case.
Leksander nodded his agreement.
Leonidas lifted his taloned claws and motioned to wipe away several of the wards he’d conjured. The focus of his fae magic and the slinky black lines of his runes skittering down his hard-muscled arm made fast work of it. Leksander stepped inside the cave, and Leonidas reversed the conjuring, raising the magical cage once more and locking them both inside.
He wasn’t too worried—Leksander had always been the strongest of the three of them. Born a minute after Lucian but a minute before Leonidas, Leksander was the cooler head, the keener eye, and the strongest in fae magic, as if a portion had been doled out to all three, but Leksander had gotten the larger share.
“You know, when Lucian locked himself in his tomb, I told him he was being an idiot.” Leksander paced the small length of the cave—only about fifteen feet on a side—peering at the walls and Leonidas’s rough wyvern form by turns. “You, I’m not so sure.”
I fell in love, Leonidas thought in his direction. I could hardly help it. You of all people should understand.
Leksander ducked his head and studied the flick of Leonidas’s bronze-spiked tail. “I do.” He grimaced and met Leonidas’s gaze. “I should have known you would be too susceptible. Too inexperienced in this sort of thing. I shouldn’t have pushed you, my brother—”
Leonidas laughed—which for his wyvern form meant puffs of smoke laced with dragonfire huffing out of his gaping mouth. He had to look like every horror depiction of dragons that ever were dreamt. You didn’t cause me to fall in love, my brother. And don’t fool yourself. Could you stop loving Erelah? Even if you were on the brink of losing your life?
Leksander was back to shaking his head, and Leonidas felt a stab of guilt for baiting him. Especially with the burden Leonidas was placing on him—to sully his talons with his own brother’s blood.
Just end it for me, Leonidas pleaded. Take your talons and your fae magic and lop off my head. And be quick about it, will you? I don’t want to feel it. Then go back to Erelah and tell her how you feel. Bare your heart. You’ll no longer have the treaty to worry about. Make use of the time you have left. That was his one regret—that he hadn’t kissed Rosalyn one last time before his wyvern took him.
Leksander frowned, his gaze hard on Leonidas’s body. Leonidas steeled himself, ready for his brother to spring forward, shift, and slice his head clean from his shoulders. Leksander tensed but didn’t move.
Finally, he said, “Leonidas, you’re still a man.”
It won’t last. For the love of magic, would he have to convince him?
“I know.” Leksander gave him a quick nod. “But you still have to try.”
Leonidas cocked his head. Try? What the hell are you talking about?
Leksander held his gaze as he stepped forward. Leonidas’s heart pounded as he got close—was this his brother’s way of surprising him? Catching him unawares so it would be over faster? He couldn’t help rearing up as Leksander approached. His human form was so much smaller than Leonidas’s wyvern that his brother had to reach up to get a hand on Leonidas’s shoulders, just below where his wings were tucked behind his back.
Leksander stared up into his eyes. “If you love her, fight for her.”
What? Leonidas wrenched away and paced the tight confines of the cave. Leksander had to leap out of the way not to be lashed by Leonidas’s spiked tail as it slithered past. What the fuck, Leksander? I’m wyvern.
“You could do it,” he said coolly, turning to face Leonidas as he paced.
Agitation was a rumbling wave traveling through his body, amping up the wildness that seethed under his skin. He hadn’t lost his mind yet, but it felt just a hair’s breadth away in time, as if any moment, his rational brain could just slip away into darkness.
“You have the right equipment, my brother,” his brother insisted. “It could be done.”
That’s fucking sick! Leonidas vented his anger in dragonfire, which curled around the cave, barely missed Leksander, and backdrafted onto Leonidas. He growled through the burn, but it wasn’t anywhere near as horrible as what his brother was suggesting. Yes, he had the right equipment—wyvern forms were a rough bastard of a dragon, but they had a human-sized cock, just right for raping and impregnating. That was the whole purpose of the beast. A singular, mindless, take-no-prisoners propagation of the species, should a dragon fail to find a mate before the end of its time. It was primal. It was barbaric. And there was no fucking way he was doing that with Rosalyn, even if he still was a man between his ears.
“Hear me out,” Leksander said, but he was batting at his clothes, stamping out the part that had lit with stray wisps of dragonfire. He edged as far away as he could get in the small cave.
There’s more? Dragonfire leaked out of Leonidas’s gaping maw. There is no way I’m asking Rosalyn to literally fuck a dragon. And really… what the hell, Leksander? That won’t even work for the treaty. For the love of magic… Agitation sent him stomping around the cave again.
Leksander hustled out of his path. “Just calm down and listen
.”
Leonidas roared his frustration but kept the dragonfire inside this time. Then he slammed his dragon fist into the solid granite. There was a satisfying spike of pain and smear of blood… and it helped to lance the agitation enough that he could sag roughly to the floor.
I’m listening. But he couldn’t even look at his brother. What madness was he even contemplating? Leonidas should pull down the wards and toss his brother out.
“You fight for her. You win her over.” Leksander waved a hand at Leonidas’s hulking wyvern form. “She already knows you love her. That has to hold some sway.”
I couldn’t win her love as a man, and you think I can win it as a beast? Leonidas just shook his head. You’re crazier than I knew. And then what? If she loves me, she’ll have sex with a wyvern? Holy fucking magic, Leksander. No. Just… no.
“You’d rather break the treaty than at least try this.” Leksander glared at him.
Hell yes. Leonidas dragged his bronze talons through the dirt of the cave floor and banged his head back against the wall. I’m cursed, my brother. That’s all there is to it. Now just fucking end it, will you? End it or get the fuck out and let me suffer in peace.
Leksander growled and paced, but he didn’t leave. He scrubbed a hand across his face and kept talking. “You’re still a man. You haven’t completely gone wyvern. The curse isn’t working—”
The curse is working just fine. Leonidas gave a snort of disgust that transformed into vapors of dragonfire leaking out of his snout.
Leksander stopped his pacing and turned to him. “Then we have to break it.”
