Tempting The Dragon King: A SciFi Dragon Shifter Romance (Dragon Lords Book 1)

by Kiersten Fay

  He reached out to trace the curved spine of the marble dragon, then he gazed down at her, something inscrutable shifting behind his eyes. Her cheeks flared under his pensive scrutiny. She fought the urge to fidget. Then, with sure hands, he lifted her by the waist and spun her in the air before setting her on her feet and murmuring in her ear, “Until then, I will dance with you anywhere you like.”

  Their lips met in a blood-searing kiss that convinced her he was about to caveman-style throw her over his shoulder and heave her back to their room when he pulled back. “I have something for you too.”

  “You do?”

  He nodded and reached into his pocket.

  “Wait, my gift has another part.”

  He glanced up. “Oh?”

  Grabbing him by the hand, she pulled him to where a flat screen had been set up. As they approached, the scree flipped on, playing a recorded image of Kyra’s heart-wrenching speech during the treaty ceremony. When Kyra spoke of his father, the camera landed on Tristan, showing the unfettered pride and love in his eyes.

  “This is being broadcasted all over the kingdom. I thought it was important for your people to see their powerful leader in action, honoring your father and the Faieara alliance.”

  “You truly amaze me.”

  Smiling, she dipped her head to hide a blush. “So, what did you get me?”

  He retrieved a small box from his pocket, a red bow decorating the top. “This must have arrived at the same time as your gifts. You see, Cale found it in the throne room back on Evlon.”

  Her eyes glittered with unshed tears as she peeled off the lid to find Jordan’s Swiss army knife settled in a bed of tissue paper.

  “It came with a note that read you’re lucky I already have one.”

  “Oh my god,” she breathed, and went on her tiptoes to gift him with a sweet kiss. “Thank you.”

  “I love you, June of Earth, my ice queen.”

  “And I love you, my dragon king, for forever and a day.”

  Epilogue

  Jessie Knight stamped out the last of the steaming coals with her black shearling-lined boots, popped in her earbuds, and turned up Imagine Dragons’ “Radioactive,” singing at full volume when the chorus hit. “Welcome to the new age…”

  Heaving her pack over her shoulder, she started the long trek back to civilization, glancing back only briefly to make sure she’d left no traces of her short stay. Her little forest hideaway was as she’d found it but for a flattened tuft where she’d set up camp and the blackened fire pit where she’d cooked her meals.

  Even though it was a chilly autumn morning and clouds were moving in, Jessie wore her camo shorts and comfortable black tank top, knowing the five-mile hike would keep her body temp up. Actually, she’d expected cooler temperatures this weekend, but most of the northeast was experiencing a gorgeous Indian summer, which was fine by her. If this weather kept up, she might be able to get in another couple weekends of camping before winter set in.

  A soft autumn breeze played through her hair, bringing with it the musty scent of coming rain. She glanced up, squinting through the certain of elm trees. The sky was darkening by the minute, clouds rolling in fast. A flash of lightning split the sky, immediately followed by a crack of thunder. This storm had barreled in like a heard of roaring Harley riders who had been promised free booze. With any luck it would pass just as fast. In the meantime, it would be wise to take shelter. She’d be pissed as hell if she got herself lightning-fried to a crisp. The burn ointment she’d packed would so not suffice.

  Since she was too high up on the mountain for safety, under a field of lighting-rod trees, she hurried down the slope to where she recalled seeing a little alcove that preceded a possible cave she’d intended to explore anyway. But before she could reach her destination, the heavens tore open and dumped the Atlantic Ocean down on her, soaking her. Lightning crackled again and again above her.

  Finally, she darted into the safety of the cave and wiped her dripping forehead. As soon as her eyes adjusted, she knew something was terribly wrong. Unless she had entered an alternate reality, caves did not come equipped with overhead lights, smooth aluminum flooring, and wide hatchways.

  What the hell?

  She popped out her earbuds. The music instantly cut off, making way for the soft whirring that filled the corridor she now stood in.

  “Uh, hello?” she called. Why did she suddenly feel as though she’d entered the plot of horror movie? Was she to be the poor curious soul in the first scene who got herself murdered, enlightening the audience and her cast mates that there be danger here?

  Unfortunately, there were no cast mates. She was alone. She knew she should make like a tree and vamoose…but what in the hell was a clandestine place like this, wide open, unguarded, doing in the Black River Forest? It looked almost military, reminding her of the many vessels her father had been stationed on. Was this a military outpost of some kind?

  She glanced back the way she’d come. A few steps in reverse and she’d be back to reality, at worst waterlogged, at best alive and out of trouble, none the wiser.

  Another snap of lightning cut the sky, so close, she worried it had struck a tree. Scratch that, at worst a shish kabob. She faced the corridor once more.

  Well, at least she had an excuse for being here: a good ol’ damsel in distress. Although, she was the last person to ever consider herself a damsel, or in distress, but she’d play it up if necessary. Just in case, she reached down and unsnapped the Ka-bar military knife that was hooked at her waist, her father’s knife, hoping she would never have to use it on anything bigger than a plump trout. Her 9mm would have been preferred, but she’d already unloaded it and packed it away for the hike.

  With light feet, she crept forward and peered around an open hatch, the soft rumble of machinery following her. It looked like some kind of storage area; a few crates packed around the edges of the room. The next hatch was closed with no way of opening it that she could discern. She listened for sounds of life, hearing none before moving on.

  The next hatch was closed as well, but offered a window, through which she spied rows of green leafy plants, like a miniature hydroponics farm. Maybe this was a botany lab or bio dome. Bio domes didn’t exactly work as intended when the front door was left wide open.

  Unease slithered along her shoulders, informing her she should go no farther. She could hear her father’s voice in her head: Curiosity kills the cat, Jessie, but the fox knows better than to lose a life in the first place. So are you a fox or a cat?

  She had always answered fox. Everyone wished they were a fox, but as she entered the farthest room, she mentally meowed.

  It appeared to be some kind of surveillance room. The mounted screens were dark, but the consoles were lit up by colorful buttons marked by strange symbols that would require a manual for her to understand.

  One was particularly bright, calling her attention. She reached out to graze her finger along the top. Apparently that was all it took. An ominous whirring sound echoed from the corridor—a hatch had closed.

  Stomach twisting, she darted back into the corridor and rushed for the exit—

  Which was now blocked by a set of heavy doors.

  Palming the metal, she searched for a way to pry the hatch open when a deep robotic voice sounded all around her, speaking in tongues. A vibration started in her feet and then snaked up to her knees before enwrapping her whole body. Had she triggered an earthquake?

  The floor became unsteady, rocking unnaturally, forcing her to cling to the wall for stability. The shrill sound of machines flooded the space, drowning out her yelps of surprise. The air grew pungent, like ozone was suddenly being pumped through the ducts.

  Then, without warning, gravity took on a different weight, as if the entire building was...rising?

  She raced back to what she had previously dubbed the surveillance room, seeing it with new eyes. Her gaze flittered between the center console, like a captain’s post, and the surround
ing consoles, all facing a single direction, and she realized what she was looking at. A command center…

  Of a ship…

  With hieroglyphs not of this world.

  The staccato clanking from above made her envision pebbles, stones, and dirt shaking free of the ship’s surface. She kicked the insane thought away. It couldn’t be possible.

  She couldn’t be in a spaceship…an alien spaceship.

  Sudden G-forces made her feel a hundred times heavier. She scrambled to plant her ass in the captain’s chair. If it was her weight or her frantic searching that triggered the double harness to cross over her torso, she wasn’t sure. The screens in front of her blinked to life, revealing a perfect view of the storm clouds bearing down on her. Lightning slashed the sky before there was a plaster of gray and then pure blue on the other side that grew darker by the moment until she passed through the atmosphere into the dark abyss of space.

  Her mind raced like a stock car in last place, gunning it in an attempt to make up laps, struggling to reconcile her unusual, unfathomable, unreal circumstances. Her heart thundered, beating so hard her ribs might just break. She couldn’t get enough air, her lungs burning from the struggle.

  As the ship’s rumbling eased and space took on a menacing shade of black, her panic receding was joined by a mix of horror and devastation. As if of its own accord, the harness around her torso retracted. She stood to approach the screen, placing her hand on it in disbelief. Her father would be so disappointed in her utter stupidity.

  “Well, shit.” Looks like I’m not the fox after all.

  And curiosity just cost this kitty all her lives.

  The end

  Dragon Lords

  TEMPTING THE DRAGON KING

  SEDUCED BY THE DRAGON LORD

  ~Coming 2020~

  Shadow Quest

  THE DEMON’S POSSESSION

  THE DEMON SLAVE

  THE DEMON’S RETRIBUTION

  DEMON UNTAMED

  Creatures of Darkness

  A WICKED HUNGER

  A WICKED NIGHT

  A WICKED DEISRE

  Ever Nights Chronicles

  KEEPING HIS SIREN

  THE VAMPIRE’S MASQUERADE

  For news about Kiersten Fay’s books, sign up to her exclusive readers club at

  www.kierstenfay.com

  Excerpt From The Vampire’s Masquerade

  Continue reading for a free excerpt from Kiersten Fay’s broiling-hot novel, The Vampire’s Masquerade.

  The Vampire’s Masquerade Chapter 1

  Kasima Wilder gripped the black-velvet clutch in her lap as if it were a release-triggered bomb set to explode. Downing the last swallow of her wine, she signaled to the bartender. “Another, please.”

  All around the nightclub, gossamer drapes hung like the spidery webs of a temptress’s lair, giving glimpses into dark alcoves, ripe with secret liaisons, while the carnal pulse of sensual music flowed from hidden speakers.

  Though Kasima knew all about the infamous nightclub, Ever Nights, and its owner, Cortez, a vampire who had practically founded Riverstone, raising it up from a desolate war-torn patch of land to a rare, thriving destination spot, she never thought her first visit would be attending the annual masquerade ball. This was not a normal night for the club. Tonight was special, catering to guest’s baser desires.

  The entire town went nuts for tonight’s event. Mostly because it drew in rich tourists from all over the continent, both human and vampire, which greatly benefited Riverstone’s economy as a whole, but also because in the days leading up to the event, Ever Nights offered a chunk of tickets to locals at a discount. That was how Kasima first assumed Brian had gotten hold of their tickets. Turned out he’d bought them months before.

  She was still stewing over that. And yet here I am.

  There were three types of people here tonight: club members who could afford the astronomical yearly membership fee, friends of those wealthy club members invited to share a single wild night, and a handful of lucky locals. Of all of them, Kasima was probably the only one who regretted coming.

  Ass planted firmly on a barstool, she waited for her refill. Coming over, the bartender flashed a movie-star smile, showing off his sharp fangs—of course he was a vampire, as were many of the staff—which he seemed to enjoy showing off, if only for the shock-and-awe reactions he received from some of the out-of-towners.

  Though Kasima lived in Riverstone, she didn’t make a habit of hanging around the prevalent vampire community, and knowing she was in a den full of them was unnerving. When the bartender once more flashed those pearly whites at her as he refilled her glass, she played it cool, even as the hairs on the back of her neck sizzled. She held her clutch tighter, till her knuckles screamed. She didn’t belong here. Surely everyone could tell.

  Once more alone, she fiddled with her mask. The pressure around her nose and cheeks wasn’t bad, per se. Just a nuisance. When the air around her stirred, the tiny white feathers that lined the edge tickled her skin. She would remove the thing altogether if she didn’t think that would draw attention. Maskless at a masquerade? She’d be a goddamned spectacle.

  She peeked around the room—one out of many currently in use. Though there were probably hundreds of people in attendance tonight, they were all scattered throughout the many lobbies and lounges within the twenty story club that also doubled as a hotel for its wealthier members. Her dark little room boasted maybe thirty or more guests, many dancing and smiling and otherwise deep in reverie while several others either lounged on a set of sofas that curled around each of the four corners or sat at the booths that lined three of the walls. The three-sixty bar was the centerpiece, though she felt practically invisible sidled up next to it. Perfect.

  The atmosphere here was surprisingly subdued compared to some of the other rooms. Before she’d claimed her little out-of-the way corner, she’d taken a quick tour of the club. She shouldn’t have been surprised—she’d heard the rumors about Ever Nights’ masquerade ball—but still, she was surprised by the openness with which some individuals groped one another, exploiting the anonymity of their elaborate, bedazzled masks. After stumbling into a room where an orgy was in full swing, she’d ducked in here and hadn’t moved since—leaving her far too much time to fret about what her wayward boyfriend was getting up to. She didn’t have to wonder for long.

  As Brian entered the room, a small gaggle of women in tow, all masked as animals: a cat, an owl, and a peacock. She hated that theirs all looked nicer than her simple dove. Electronic pop music hip-bumped her eardrums, though she could still hear their faint giggles. The four of them found an empty booth near the door. Kasima faced the bar, trying to pretend she hadn’t noticed him or his beautiful entourage.

  I agreed to this, she reminded herself. It’s just one night.

  It had been Brian’s idea to come here tonight. For weeks, he’d been talking her into it. Begging, really. Come on. It will be fun, he’d told her, acting all nonchalant about testing their relationship in such a fashion. Like a one-night-only free pass for each of us. That was how he’d sold it. A last night of freedom before we take our relationship to the next level. He’d made a face at the last part, a micro-wince, but she had noticed. Pretended not to. Like always.

  Her argument? If two people want to be together, they shouldn’t be contemplating sleeping with strangers.

  Yet here she was, watching him—trying not to watch him—flirt across the room, potentially gearing up for a ménage.

  She’d always been fiercely loyal to whoever she was with, and it hurt that Brian wasn’t entirely all in like she was. But she’d promised to give him time, and she could put up with a lot. It was practically her talent. Not a great talent, but you take what you get. Yet, all night she’d been wondering if she could accept this philandering, even for a single night. If she should.

  This inner debate had been warring all night. She really liked Brian. He was a journalist for the Tribune where Kasima worked as an
assistant to the editor. They’d been coworkers for a few of years before dating. Brian had always given her his ridiculously charming smile as he passed her desk on his way to meet with her boss, Mr. Dixon, which, to her great embarrassment, had always made her blush. She suspected he enjoyed her reaction, but he hadn’t really pursued her till last year. And she had let him, delighted to have caught the eye of someone like him; charismatic, ambitious, handsome. All the women in the office swooned over him.

  To be fair, she and Brian hadn’t been dating exclusively until roughly three months ago when she had broached the subject. They were still adjusting to the new dynamics of their relationship. And though Brian had agreed “to try” being exclusive with her, tonight had been one of his exceptions.

  She took a sip of her wine, letting the delectable flavor wash over her nerves. It’s just one night.

  She lightly tugged at the silky fabric of her low-cut blouse, chosen in hopes of keeping Brian’s attention. The rest of her outfit followed that aim. Her skirt was short, tight, and hugged her ass like plastic wrap. Her fuck-me boots were miles high black leather that wrapped her calves in a cozy embrace. She’d taken extra care with her hair, piling it up in a messy bun with strategic curling tendrils, exposing her delicate neck. One of her best features, in her opinion. It was only after they’d pulled up to the club that it dawned on her that they were about to enter a vampire-rich club. Did someone order the extra juicy neck? Luckily the only one she’d come across was her brawny, my-biceps-are-too-big-for-this-shirt, bartender. Thankfully he remained professional. Not that she’d expected him to leap across the bar and randomly fang-fuck guests, but when you’re the meat in a room full of carnivores, you tend to be on guard.