The Christmas Dragon's Mate: BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance

by Zoe Chant

  It’s still there. I just can’t see far enough because of the snow, she told herself, but her heart was still racing.

  Carefully, she took a step forward, then another. It had to be right in front of her. She hadn’t taken more than a few steps out of the tunnel—she’d probably run into the rock any second now, and wouldn’t that serve her right?

  With outstretched arms, she took another step forward. Then a second, and a third.

  Nothing.

  Dara swallowed, trying to beat down her rising panic.

  This is a tourist attraction. It’s completely safe here. I’m just scared because I’m not used to snow.

  The tunnel couldn’t be more than a few feet away. Inside, she’d be safe from the wind and the snow. And then she’d climb into her car, put the heating on high and turn the radio on, and drive back down into Christmas Valley.

  This would make a fun story to tell there. Maybe she’d make friends at the hotel. This evening, she could sit around a fire with a few strangers, sipping eggnog and laughing at her adventures.

  “Everything is going to be okay,” she said out loud, trying to reassure herself.

  The wind ripped the words from her mouth. She couldn’t even hear herself over the roar of it. Terrified, she stumbled a few more steps forward—but there was still nothing.

  No rocks. No tunnel. No gate.

  She was lost in a snowstorm, and no one knew where she was.

  “Oh God,” she sobbed, but the storm tore those words away as well.

  She took out her phone, fingers trembling, but the signal was gone. With freezing fingers she tried texting Miranda, but it didn’t send. She stared down at the red exclamation mark next to the message, telling her that it wasn’t going anywhere.

  Her panic rising, she tried to call 911, but there was still no signal. In her fear, she began shaking her phone, but that didn’t help either, and after a moment, she managed to pull herself together again.

  She needed to find her car. Or, if that failed, she needed to find other people.

  The castle.

  If she could make it to the castle, she’d be safe. Even if it was closed today, an attraction this large would have someone living there for maintenance. Or at least they’d have a working phone line.

  Swallowing heavily, Dara turned again. A moment ago, she’d stared straight at the castle. All she had to do was walk forward.

  Straight into the storm…

  But she’d seen the ground rise sharply to lead up towards the top of the mountain where the castle was situated. As long as she was walking upwards, she couldn’t miss it.

  It’ll be all right. This is like a winter Disneyland! No one dies at Disneyland, she told herself firmly, and then she set out.

  She couldn’t say how long she walked. The wind was howling and tearing at her. The snow seemed to have turned into tiny pieces of ice that pricked at her skin. She pulled the hood down as far as she could. Her breath was freezing in the air. She could barely see more than where to place the next step. The ground was as white as the sky, so that she couldn’t even say where it ended or began.

  But she could feel that she was walking upwards. It was slippery, the snow hiding a layer of ice underneath, but at least she was wearing sensible boots.

  Go upward. Keep going up, she told herself.

  She might have walked for an hour. Her feet and her hands were hurting from the cold. She still couldn’t see anything. It felt like she was walking in place—but she was still going up the mountain.

  Tiredly, she rubbed her hands. Her fingers stung, as though the cold was pricking at her like tiny needles. She was exhausted. At first, she’d kept pulling out her phone to check for a signal, but now she was too tired even for that.

  Keep going. Keep going up…

  How far could it be? Surely she’d reach it any minute now.

  Her lips were numb. Her teeth chattered. Her feet were blocks of ice.

  I can’t make it much longer, she thought, staring into the whirling snow. I don’t want to die here… but I’m so tired.

  For seemingly endless minutes she continued to pull herself forward.

  Help me. Someone… please!

  Even the air she was breathing in seemed to be frozen, filling her lungs with ice until it hurt to inhale. She tried to keep going, taking step after step, fighting against the exhaustion that kept pulling at her—but at last it was too much. She’d given everything.

  Her weary body sank into the snow, her knees giving out. She was trembling uncontrollably. She couldn’t feel her feet anymore.

  It’s supposed to be quick and painless, freezing to death…

  Tiredly, she blinked against the snow that was still falling. Suddenly, everything seemed quiet. Had the wind died down?

  She was lying in the snow now—but it wasn’t cold at all. She felt strangely warm, and she smiled as the veil of snowflakes parted.

  Something large was coming toward her. It was flying. It was becoming larger and larger as she watched, until she could make out wings.

  A dragon.

  A dragon made of ice, shimmering in a thousand colors as it reflected the light of the sinking sun. More brilliant than a diamond. More imposing than anything she had ever seen.

  It was impossible, and impossibly beautiful.

  I’m really dying, she thought vaguely, but she wasn’t afraid now. No one had ever told her that when you died, a dragon came for you.

  Is he going to eat me? I’m not even a virgin. She was too tired to giggle.

  A cloud of snow arose when the dragon landed. She could feel the force of the giant, strong wings beating the air. A second later, there was silence. And then someone took hold of her hand.

  Oh, she thought in quiet surprise, fighting to keep her eyes open. A stranger was bending over her, concern on his handsome, rugged face.

  The stranger had pale blond hair, almost the color of the snow. He looked a little like a prince out of a fairy tale—if princes in fairy tales wore heavily padded parkas and snow boots.

  “Can you understand me?” the man asked, leaning over her.

  Dara blinked tiredly.

  Dimly, she felt herself lifted into the man’s arms. For the first time, she felt as light as a feather as her head came to rest against a heavily muscled chest.

  The stranger was still looking at her. His eyes were a strange hue of gray. Dara had never seen anything like it before. They were almost silver, illuminated by some inner light, gleaming the same way the ice dragon had shone in the sun.

  They were beautiful.

  Feeling safe at last, Dara closed her eyes and slipped away into sleep.

  Chapter Two: Henrik

  Henrik Drakeson had heard the call just when he was in the middle of one of his solitary walks. He didn’t stop to wonder how this could be—no one could enter the area unless they were another dragon shifter, and then of course he would have felt their presence long ago.

  But someone was in great peril on his lands. He could feel it in every fiber of his being. His dragon’s senses were connected to his land and his hoard, and they were pulling at him with a force he had never experienced before.

  Hurry, they whispered. Hurry, before it’s too late!

  It was impossible to ignore that call, even though he hadn’t shifted in a long time, and he knew that it would severely weaken him. Nevertheless, seconds later, the powerful body of his dragon was soaring through the air, driven forward by a strange urgency he had never felt before.

  For the past twenty years, he’d believed that all that remained of his heart in his chest was a lump of ice, something cold and frozen, eternally damning him to remain alone.

  Now, that same heart was pounding in his chest, filling him with a terror and delight he couldn’t make sense of.

  Of course, it all made sense as soon as he saw her.

  She was lost in the snow—one of the protective measures that ensured that his lonely home remained undisturbed. The snow an
d ice was designed to keep any unwanted visitors away—and for the past twenty years, anyone had been an unwanted visitor, with the exception of his uncle.

  But this protective system had never been designed to harm an innocent. Intruders were supposed to be turned away at the gate, or as soon as they took their first step on his grounds.

  How had she made it so far into his lands? It should have been impossible.

  My mate, his heart whispered.

  The thought made Henrik’s wings shudder as he flew. Could it be true? Was the intruder really… his mate?

  Henrik spread his wings to slow his approach. As soon as his feet hit the ice, he shifted back into his human form. As a dragon, his clothes remained with him even through the change, and he was glad for it now. It was freezing cold, even though his approach had calmed the snowstorm that was supposed to protect his solitude.

  The woman was his mate. The sensation was new, but it spread through his body like wildfire. It was exhilarating. He’d never even dared to hope for a companion… Had fate decided that he was forgiven? Were twenty years of solitude enough for his past sins?

  But there was no time to think now. His mate had nearly frozen to death in the storm. He swooped her up in his arms. By this time, she had lost consciousness, and he felt an old terror clutch at his heart.

  I hurt everyone I love…

  He pushed the fear away and shifted again. Carefully holding her with his front legs, he lifted into the air again, propelling himself forwards toward the castle that had been the home of his family of dragon shifters for generations.

  ***

  Several hours later, Henrik was sitting by his mate’s side, watching as she slept. He’d bundled her up warmly in his own bed. He’d started a fire in the fireplace as well, even though his castle had been fitted with modern heating a long time ago.

  Her cheeks had blushed with warmth as soon as he’d brought her inside, and she had relaxed almost immediately. His dragon’s instincts told him that she was no longer in danger, and that this was simply the sleep of exhaustion. Still, he hadn’t been able to move from her side. He’d brought her into his own bedroom without a single thought, even though there were numerous unoccupied bedrooms in the castle. But it felt right. And it seemed to have helped.

  Already she was beginning to stir. Henrik couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  Her face was heart-shaped, her cheeks pink. She had adorable dimples that showed that she laughed a lot, and gentle furrows on her brow that betrayed worries. Her hair was a tangle of brown curls that came down to her chin. She had the soft, generous curves that set his dragon’s heart afire, her limbs gently rounded and perfect—more perfect than any diamond he’d added to his hoard.

  She was his mate, and Henrik, who’d hidden from the world for twenty years, could barely believe how lucky he was.

  He watched as his mate stretched. Then, with a sweet smile, she opened her eyes. They were brown, like her hair, and framed by delicate black lashes.

  Now she blinked at him. Before she could panic, Henrik took hold of your hand.

  “You’re safe,” he said. “I’m Henrik Drakeson, the owner of Snow Castle. I found you just in time.”

  Her smile widened a little. “Dara Jenkins, nice to meet you,” she murmured. Then, slowly, she began to frown, as though her memories were catching up with her.

  “The snow castle… it was all real then? The castle… the storm…” Suddenly she gasped, her eyes widening. “The dragon! You are… you are the dragon?”

  For a moment, Henrik was taken aback. He hadn’t expected that.

  She wasn’t a shifter herself—he would have been able to sense that. To ordinary people he was either invisible in his dragon form, or else they immediately forgot what they’d seen. It was an old defense mechanism, designed to keep dragons from harm.

  But… Dara had seen him. And she had remembered him.

  For one heartbeat, their eyes met. Henrik felt lost, as though he was falling into his mate’s eyes. Was this what it was like to meet his match? Someone who’d simply know him?

  “Are you… a shifter?” Dara struggled to sit up. “It’s okay—my best friend is married to a shifter. But he’s—you know. A dog. Golden retriever. Likes to roll around on the floor and play fetch with the children. He didn’t tell me there were dragons!”

  Henrik laughed softly. She had taken him by surprise—but it was a relief that she knew. He wasn’t quite sure how he’d expected this conversation to go, but definitely not like this.

  “It’s a bit of a secret,” he said. “Even among shifters. I can’t believe someone told you that shifters exist at all, though; we’re all very secretive!”

  Dara’s lips twitched. “I take it you’ve never met a golden retriever. They’re sweet, good-natured dogs. I’d trust them with my own children in a heartbeat. But never trust them with a secret.”

  Henrik laughed again. “Well, I’ll remember that. Thanks for the advice!”

  “You’re welcome.” Dara gave him an amused smile, then pushed away the covers—or at least tried to.

  Hastily, Henrik reached out to steady her. “Not so fast! You almost froze to death in that storm. Please, stay in bed a while. Let’s take it slowly. I’ll go and fetch you some hot chocolate, how does that sound?”

  “Or… a coffee?” Dara said pleadingly.

  Henrik inclined his head, trying to hide his smile and not quite succeeding. “Whatever you desire.”

  When he returned with a steaming mug, Dara was still in bed, though she had propped herself up against the pillows. She looked more awake now, and no longer quite as exhausted.

  “A gingerbread latte,” Henrik said proudly as he handed over the concoction.

  “Very seasonal!” Dara grinned at him, her cheeks flushing when their hands brushed for a moment.

  If she knew about shifters—did she also know about mates?

  Maybe it’s not the first thing I should spring on her. It’s probably bad manners to spring it on someone who can’t even stand yet.

  Let’s show our mate our land first, the dragon within him whispered with all its possessive pride.

  “Thanks,” Henrik said, a little belatedly. “These things are all the rage right now, or so I’ve been told. The people in the valley slip these things into my deliveries. I have gingerbread and pumpkin spice syrup. And an iPhone. And a CD from someone called, um… Taylor Swift? I think it’s their way of trying to get me to stay connected with the world.”

  Dara sipped her coffee as she studied him. “You don’t get out much? Is it because the snow makes it impossible to drive? No, of course not—you’re a dragon, you can fly,” she corrected herself.

  “The storm is my doing. Sorry.” Henrik grimaced. “It’s designed to keep intruders away. We dragons have a certain connection to the land we’ve claimed as ours. So whenever someone comes close, the snow and wind starts up, and people turn around and leave. The people from the village just leave my deliveries at the gate. I don’t get any visitors—well, my uncle visits sometimes, but then he’s a shifter too, and the land recognizes him as family.”

  “Wow,” Dara breathed, her eyes gleaming at him. “I’m sorry, but this is so much better than getting drooled on by a dog shifter. You people got all the cool stuff, huh?”

  A surprised laugh escaped Henrik. “I’m glad you think so! Most people would be scared, I think.”

  “Well, if you wanted to eat me, you could have already done that.” Again, Dara blushed when their eyes met. “And I’m not scared of you. You saved me. And your dragon was beautiful! I’ve never seen anything like it!”

  The dragon inside Henrik was preening at the praise, already filled with a possessive pride, now that they had found their mate.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Henrik promised. Exhilaration spread through him.

  He’d been alone for twenty long years. No visitors. No tourists.

  But all of a sudden, he couldn’t wait to show his ma
te his home and watch her fill it with her life.

  An hour later, after she’d eaten some soup he’d heated and a sandwich he had prepared, Dara declared herself fully recovered and ready to get out of bed. Now, wrapped in her warm parka once more, she was staring with wide eyes as they walked together through the corridors of his home.

  “It’s not an actual, real castle,” Henrik explained as they walked. “My great-great-grandparents settled here long ago. We always had a large family home—it’s a dragon thing, we’re very proud and protective of what is ours. But it wasn’t a castle—just your average dragon clan mansion.”

  “Average mansion,” Dara said in a strangled voice as she looked down a large, winding staircase that led down to the first floor. The walls were decorated with paintings and old tapestries. Henrik had switched on the light, and all the chandeliers were glittering and gleaming. The sound of their steps echoed through the hallway as they walked.

  Henrik looked sheepish. “For a dragon this is actually quite modest,” he said. “Anyway, it was my dad’s idea to transform it into what you see now. He added the castle part you see when you enter through the gate. It’s really just two towers, and then a stone front to make it seem like it’s a real castle. Because that was his idea, you see: people down in the valley were struggling to make a living up here. And we dragons always take good care of our land, and those who live on it. So instead of logging and hunting and mining, the valley transformed into Christmas Valley, and our home into Snow Castle. You should have seen it—it was magical. Every winter when I was a child, there were hundreds of families coming here for a holiday. I had snowball fights with the children in the courtyard. We built snowmen. We spent hours playing in the snow castle—the actual snow castle! Everyone who came here was happy. And the valley thrived.”

  “And now… now everything is empty.” Dara stopped, looking at the large room they had reached.

  It had once been a ballroom. Dimly, Henrik could still hear the laughter as people twirled through the room to the sound of music, the tinkling of glasses and the cheers.