by Juniper Hart
Dragon Desire
Hollow Earth Dragons
Juniper Hart
Dragon Desire
Text Copyright © 2018 by Juniper Hart
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
First printing, 2017
Publisher
Secret Woods Books
[email protected]
www.SecretWoodsBooks.com
Contents
Legend of the Hollow Earth Dragons
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
Epilogue
Preview: Fated Mate
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Thank You
About the Author
Legend of the Hollow Earth Dragons
Long before there was a distinction between man and beast, all lived together in the belly of the earth, united in harmony. It mattered not who had the sharpest claws nor the most gnashing teeth, for the utopia they had found was unhindered by war or famine, each creature caring for the other in a vast village of compassion.
Magic had a home there, spawned by fairies and valkyries who cast their impish pleasures over the ogres and giants, the wizards and sorceresses, even the bloodthirsty vampires and lycans, who learned to curb their sanguine lust. Even the most dangerous beings recognized the entrancing beauty of their lives and inherently wished to protect it, but against what, they could not say.
Somewhere, in the depth of every form—no matter their shape, no matter their proclivities—a knowledge that danger lurked beyond the sanctuary of their underground lair hung above them like a pendulum ax, ready to decapitate their fragile existence without warning.
The bewitching Eden they knew as home was untouched for thousands of years, a legend among the rising population that grew over their heads, but their world was nothing like the one below.
Above the hollows, an evil was birthing, one even the humans could not see.
It started innocuously, a slow drip that spread like poison, infecting the innocent with its stain, the rot suctioning the good from the unsuspecting souls until the world on the outside was corrupted by the devastation the undergrounders had managed to escape for eons.
While the realm closest to the sun burned fraught with perils and anguish, greed and destruction, the insular society retreated further into itself, hearing their cries of torment but unable to help without endangering themselves. Inevitably, the toxin scorched the earth, and whiffs of the sin beyond wafted into the pure lungs of the untouched, who began to feel the unrest among them.
Almost overnight, the magical touches of the fairies transformed into something more sinister, and where there was once only play, a subculture of darkness fell.
The blood-lusting immortals suddenly craved the flesh they had learned to forsake, and the wizards cast spells to ward them away, knowing that they could no longer be trusted. Slowly, the immortals ventured out of the caves to feed their desire for flesh, opening a sealed door which should never have been touched.
Into the world they went, dazzled by the glow of the sun, an object they had never known. Their conditioning, however, kept them lurking in the night shadows, and both the vampires and the lycans developed an unhealthy obsession with overtaking the other. Only one species could return to the hollows, and neither would stop until their nemesis was eliminated for good.
When the war began between them, it waged for a thousand years, the fighting weakening the senses they had honed so well in the caverns of Eden.
And so, like the mortals before them, they failed to realize that there was a danger far greater than the one they had brought to the surface, puppeteering their moves with golden eyes and an ability far greater than anything either realm had ever seen.
They were dragon princes, five in total and hellbent on reigning all, unaware of what lay below. Cursed by a prophet in the time of the Pharaohs, they had wandered the earth: insatiable, longing, yearning, but never knowing what it was they craved so desperately.
The immortals from the underworld learned of the new enemy too late; they fled back for the portal to the caverns, but it was far too late. The dragons had been watching, biding their time as the vampires and lycans fought, waiting for a chance to retreat into the caves in the core of the world.
The dragons crashed through to the world below the surface, breathing fire and killing all who disobeyed them. They were there to reign, and no one could stop them from claiming the society of sorcery and magic.
Granted free monarchy, the creatures grew tenebrous, morose, and evil under the dragons’ rule. There was no more lightness or play—only melancholy and gloom.
For another thousand years, the heaviness weighed upon the inhabitants of Eden, until one day, the last of the fairies came to the high court to tell the dragons something they had never known.
“You have been roaming the high world, searching for something to sate your unquenchable thirst,” Lucia breathed, her wings flittering nervously as she surely anticipated being turned to ash.
But she had the princes’ attention, and she boldly continued.
“You have come here, hoping to find answers,” she said, her words rushing from her sparkling crimson lips, bright eyes dancing from one stoic face to the next. She paused, waiting for affirmation.
“Go on.” The voice belonged to no one in particular, yet it seemed to come from all angles at once. Lucia sighed quickly.
“Your desire is not within the power of your hands. The appetence will not subside as you claim more land or fortune. It will not dissipate with blood on your fangs, nor with beasts cowering in fear.”
“No?”
She inhaled deeply. “No. You each hold the end of your incessant agony in the depth of your hearts.”
A low, dangerous rumble filled the high court, but she remained in place.
“You best elaborate.”
Lucia closed her eyes and nodded, knowing her next words would be among her last.
“You must find love.”
The rumble grew louder, and Lucia suddenly realized that the princes were laughing, a sonorous, terrifying noise that filled her with fear.
“Love?”
“Yes, my lords. Love will—”
She did not have an opportunity to finish her sentence; a bolt of flames shot out toward her, engulfing her in a lick of fire.
The dragons looked among themselves, unspeaking, unmoving. The consensus was clear, even without a word uttered between them.
It was not that the princes did not believe the pixie who had come to ease them of their everlasting pain. The prophet had told them something very similar upon placing the hex upon their heads, creating ungodly creatures who possessed no restraint or control, animals who were plagued with tireless suffering.
No, it was not a question of disbelief.
The brothers simply could not foresee a world where anyone could love a beast.
And for another five hundred years, the dragon
s stayed in the ruined haven of the underworld, plotting their next move.
The legend of Hollow Earth grew to be nothing more than a fairy tale, folklore to be easily dismissed and never again spoken of, but the princes knew better.
It was their kingdom, a deep, dark hell no woman could ever love.
1
It was a smoldering day, one where neither shade nor fans could possibly allow for a reprieve. Even the bouts of air conditioning were doing little to help with the misery Lennox was experiencing.
He had only been in Louisiana for twelve hours, and he was ninety percent sure he was about to dissipate into the air like the humidity clinging to his red button-down shirt.
I can’t walk into an interview like this, he thought. I need to stop somewhere and shower.
As if reading his thoughts, Castor turned and looked at him from the driver’s seat. “Should we stop at the hotel before your meeting, Mr. Parker? We have time.”
“Yes, please. I’m sweating like a stuck pig,” Lennox replied gratefully. “Why the hell didn’t anyone prepare me for this?” He couldn’t see the driver’s face, but he was sure that the werewolf was grinning.
“You’ve been to New Orleans many times, Mr. Parker. I’m surprised you didn’t remember what it was like.”
“I’ve been everywhere many times!” Lennox protested. “That doesn’t mean I cling to the sensations of every swampy hell I’ve visited.”
“Valid point,” Castor agreed pleasantly.
I cannot wait for this bullshit formality to be done and over with, thought Lennox. It’s ridiculous that I even have to go through this. Damn Wilder to hell for this.
“We’ll be there in a couple minutes,” Castor assured him.
“The air conditioning better be on full blast in there,” Lennox grumbled, but the shocking cold from the vents inside the town car was already doing the trick, and he leaned his raven head back against the seat.
Since flying in from the caves, he had been running around like an idiot from meeting to meeting, jumping through hoops to appease his brother. Lennox didn’t deserve this kind of treatment—he hadn’t done anything wrong. But it wasn’t himself who needed convincing.
One of these days, he told himself, Wilder will get his. Hopefully sooner rather than later, because I don’t want to wait another millennium for his justice to come.
That was one of the problems with being immortal: time had no meaning when death was not inevitable.
Castor steered the car toward the entrance of the Royal Sonesta New Orleans, and Lennox moaned again.
“We’re already here? I am still at least forty-two degrees overheated!”
“We’re here,” the driver confirmed, and Lennox reluctantly reached for the handle to let himself out of the car.
He wasn’t like Wilder or some of his other brothers, who insisted on being waited on hand and foot. Lennox didn’t need the driver to escort him out of the car like some narcissistic movie star on the red carpet.
“I’ll be back quick,” he promised before heading into the entrance of the luxurious hotel.
What he wanted more than anything was to forsake the interview, change into his swimsuit, and go for a dip in the pool before spreading his wings and heading home to the Hollows, where it was cool and eternally dark.
Imagine what Wilder would say to that, he thought with a smirk, even though, instead of being amused, he was bitter and angry. So much that he wanted to smash his fist through a wall.
As he made his way to his suite on the executive floor, he contemplated calling his brother and telling him that he was done being his monkey.
We are all equals, all princes, Lennox reminded himself. Who crowned him king and why didn’t we stop it when we had the chance?
It had all started so gradually, with Wilder acquiring companies here and there while the others pursued other avenues on the Sunside. None of the brothers had noticed that he was becoming a tyrant, a difficult feat to accomplish when they were hardly known for their gentle ways as dragon princes.
Before anyone could realize it, Wilder had taken control of the Sunside, and suddenly, they all had to answer to him. No one could make a move of his own without Wilder’s approval. He assured his brothers that he had complete faith in their abilities to run their own businesses, and yet he continued to pull the reins like the megalomaniac puppet master he was.
This trip was just another exercise in this blatant abuse of power.
Moreover, Lennox knew Wilder gave instructions to his underlings to make the meetings awkward, which made the interviews extra humiliating.
He’s such a dickhead. One of these days, the rest of us are going to overthrow his dumb ass, and then where will he be?
Inside his suite, he stared at himself in the mirror, his piercing green eyes staring back with a surprising serenity, not an inkling of the aggravation he was feeling pictured in the glass. His thick mane of black hair was swept against the crown of his imperial-looking head, resting at the base of his neck in one flowing wave. Despite his permanent residence below the surface of the earth, he maintained a healthy glow, his sculpted form rippling in a galvanized hue as he moved.
There was not even any indication that he was on fire beneath his solid chest and muscular arms, both figuratively and literally. Louisiana was too uncomfortably hot for a damned dragon.
Lennox leaned forward to splash cold water on his face, the front of his white shirt spotting with wetness as he relished the cold liquid. It didn’t matter; he had to change, anyway. He eyed the shower wistfully and glanced at his limited-edition Rolex, debating whether to risk it.
I’d better not, he thought glumly, stalking toward the bedroom, where he had hung up the few outfits he’d brought from the Hollows. For all his thoughts about sticking it to Wilder, he knew what would happen if he was late for the meeting, and he had borne his fair share of humiliation for one lifetime. Besides, it would serve those cretins right if he sweated all over them.
Some of his brothers maintained houses on the Sunside, but Lennox still preferred the sanctuary of the Hollows to the mansions on the upper side of the world.
He stripped off his drenched shirt and grabbed a fresh one off a hanger, barely pausing to check himself out as he slathered deodorant under his arms.
In minutes, he was back in the car, and Castor sped off toward the downtown core to meet with Wilder’s people. Lennox was still fuming about Wilder.
“You have any brothers, Castor?” Lennox heard himself asking, and the driver glanced at him in the rear-view mirror.
“No, Mr. Parker. I have sisters. Four of them.” Lennox found himself perking up with interest.
“Four?” he echoed, studying the Lycan with new eyes. He’s not a bad-looking guy. I wonder what his sisters look like. Lycans are notoriously incredible in bed.
“Yes, Mr. Parker. Chandra, Clarice, Coral, and Charisma.”
Lennox cringed slightly at the alliteration of “C” names, but he made no comment on it.
“What are they like?” he asked, half curiously, half to make conversation. The Hollows were a big place, but his part of the world seemed to be getting smaller in regards to the female population. Or maybe it seemed that way to Lennox because he had dated so many of them. In any case, it didn’t hurt to keep his options open, even if it meant hooking up with his driver’s sisters.
Castor didn’t reply immediately, as if he was weighing his answer, and Lennox turned his head to stare out the window. Perhaps he didn’t want to talk about them. After a moment, though, he did answer, and Lennox wished he hadn’t asked.
“Well,” his driver began, “Chandra is married now, and Coral is dating a troll. It’s quite a scandal, but nothing quite as bad as the one you caused when you dated Charisma and Clarice at the same time.”
Ah, shit, Lennox shuddered. How could I have forgotten about the werewolf twins?
“Wow,” he said brightly. “That heat must really be getting to me. Of course I reme
mber the twins.”
Castor didn’t reply, and Lennox idly wondered if his driver would kill him if he could.
Too bad for Castor, he thought. There’s no way to accomplish that. Dragons don’t die.
After a few minutes of awkward silence, Castor drove to the front entrance of a steel and glass structure on the outskirts of Kenner. It was meant to act as Southern Belle’s headquarters, but it seemed more like a modernistic mansion than an office building.
“Should I wait, Mr. Parker?” Castor asked. Lennox shrugged his shoulders.
“I have no idea,” he replied. “You know how these things go. It depends on how much they feel like screwing me over today. Just find somewhere to go and I’ll call you when this hell is done.”
“All right, Mr. Parker.”
Lennox slammed the door and entered the building, exhaling at the air conditioner blasting against his face. He’d have to remember to apologize to Castor later. He should probably find the twins and apologize to them, too.
I just want to ensure I get all the details straight in my head before I do, he chuckled to himself.
He knew it wasn’t a laughing matter, not really, but the women he met had to know that he was not in it for the long haul, no matter what Lucia or the ancient Pharaoh had told him. There would never be a true love for him, and he was perfectly aware of it.
“Ah! Lennox,” Gary Chambers, the chief operating officer, called, hurrying to meet him as he entered the lobby. “Great to see you again.”
“Hey, Gary.” There was much less enthusiasm in Lennox’s voice.
