by Rinelle Grey
© 2018 by Rinelle Grey
www.rinellegrey.com
All rights reserved.
Cover design by
Table of Contents
Blurb
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
About the Author
Blurb
When Prince Calrian wakes from a three hundred year sleep, he doesn’t expect to be alone. He certainly doesn’t expect to be woken by a human. In order to regain his energy and shift into his dragon form, he needs to bond with someone, but a human could never understand what he requires.
Single mother Rylee has enough on her plate. When her eleven-year-old son, Rowan brings home a strange man he found asleep in a canyon, she’s determined to keep her distance. She’s just escaped one controlling relationship, she certainly doesn’t need another.
But the pull she feels for him is not only unmistakable, it could be deadly. For both of them.
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Chapter 1
Calrian stared around the room, satisfaction welling up in him at the sight. His whole clan, there must be at least a hundred of them, all gathered in one room. He looked beside him, at his brothers, Verrian and Taurian, and his sisters, Sarian and Lyrian.
The only one missing from this little family gathering was his eldest brother, Warrian.
He gave a mirthless laugh at that. Warrian might have been born before him, but through virtue of his being awake for nearly twenty-five years longer than any of his siblings, he was now technically the eldest.
Somehow, he didn’t think that would mean he would be allowed to be in charge.
And truthfully, he didn’t want to be.
He felt as if he was being pulled in two. One half of him was overjoyed to be here with his clan, preparing to fight their lifelong enemy and to create a truce with the humans, the other half desperately missed his mate, Rylee, his family, and his work. He had built a whole life for himself, one he wasn’t sure he could bring himself to give up.
When he’d first heard that his clan was alive, his brothers and sisters awake, Calrian had wondered if his human mate and half-human children would be accepted here. But he needn’t have worried.
“So, tell us your story,” his youngest brother, Taurian said. “How many years have you been awake, and what have you been doing in that time.” Taurian put his arm around his mate. He looked at Calrian, his smile warm. “Are you happy, Brother, with your human family?”
Calrian couldn’t help the smile on his own face. “They are my sunshine,” he said solemnly. “I have never regretted a moment with them, except when it meant I was not here for you.”
His brothers and sisters would understand, he could already see it in their eyes. But that knowledge did nothing to alleviate his guilt.
He’d given up on them. Let himself be distracted by love and a beautiful mate. By a life that was something other than fighting.
But he couldn’t go back and change the past. And even if he could, another part of his heart wouldn’t change a thing. The part that jealously guarded what he and Rylee had shared.
If he’d known his clan was alive, he might never have taken things further with her. Might have accepted that it couldn’t be and left her behind. Now, he couldn’t even imagine that.
How could he be wishing for two completely different lives and experiences? How could he wish both of them were true at the same time?
“Tell us your story, Brother,” Taurian repeated. “We’re all dying to hear.”
Calrian took a deep breath. Perhaps that would help. Perhaps, in sharing his story with his clan, he could find a way to come to terms with it himself.
Chapter 2
Calrian felt a touch pull him out of his deep sleep. Even though he’d been through this process before and knew that his wounds would be completely healed, he couldn’t help focusing on the places where he’d sustained the greatest wounds, his left leg and arm, to be sure the injuries were, indeed, gone.
There was no pain. No feeling that they wouldn’t obey his commands.
Relief flooded through him. He had been terrified, when he’d been wounded, that he would never fly again. But it appeared that was not the case. Not today, anyway.
Calrian grimaced, knowing the fighting was not over yet. Knowing he had to face it again. He didn’t shirk from it, not exactly, but he did wish that Ultrima had never wished to mate with his sister, never attacked his brother over it.
He bit back a sigh and opened his eyes.
And stared straight into the face of a young boy.
Calrian blinked a couple of times, but the view didn’t change.
It hit him, with a sickening thud to the stomach, that something was wrong. Very wrong. And he should have realised it earlier. As soon as he’d opened his eyes, the strangeness he’d been feeling registered. The lack of the usual attraction to the woman who woke him, the lack of any dragon scent. He gave a shiver. Even the weather was wrong. It had been a warm summer when he’d entered the Mesmer, but now he felt a cool chill.
He struggled to raise himself on one elbow, concerned by the fact that his whole body felt weak. A side effect of his long healing sleep, one that wasn’t unusual.
One that it would be impossible to be rid of quickly in this situation.
“What is going on? Where am I?” he stammered.
The boy’s wide blue eyes stared at him, his expression confused. He said something, but the words were indistinct, unclear. Different from anything Calrian had ever heard before. Their strangeness only added to the worry he was already feeling.
The boy backed away, shaking his head.
Calrian wasn’t too sure on the ages of humans, but he couldn’t be very old. Maybe half way to adulthood.
He remembered the age. Not yet an adult, with all the rights and responsibilities that entailed, yet with an awareness that went beyond the games he was supposed to be still playing as a child.
So he understood the child’s concern that he was going to be in trouble. He had not only disturbed what appeared to be an adult’s sleep, but Calrian suspected the boy was also somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.
Trouble was, Calrian needed him. He couldn’t let him leave.
He wasn’t sure he could even stand, let alone walk. And because of the boy’s age, below that at which he would have been able to shift if he were a dragon, the magical connection required to fulfil the Mesmer ritual had not formed at all.
Calrian would not recover. Not without help of some kind.
What he needed was to find a female. But he couldn’t do that on his own. Somehow, he needed to convince the boy to help him. How could he do that without words?
“You’re not disturbing me,” Calrian tried, even though he realised the boy would not understand. He tried to keep his tone even, soothing. To let none of the panic he was feeling enter his voice. “But I could do with some help.”
He tried to push himself up into a sitting position, but his arms felt like seaweed, no structure, substance or strength at all. He collapsed back onto his elbow.
The boy said more words that Calrian couldn’t understand, but he came forwards again.
It pained Calrian for someone to see him like this
. That wasn’t supposed to happen. But he comforted himself with the fact that it wasn’t his enemy.
At least, he hoped it wasn’t.
He was supposed to be safe here, in the Mesmer chamber, it’s location known only to his immediate family and the elders of the clan, protected by magic woven by the most powerful of dragons, the life dragon. But that should not have prevented his clan from coming to wake him.
Some time had passed, the seasonal change made that clear. But how much, and why? What had happened to his clan? Were they all gone? His heart skipped a beat, and the adrenaline that rushed through his system at the thought gave him enough strength to push himself into a sitting position.
He wasn’t convinced though, that he wouldn’t fall straight back over. He was certain that he couldn’t stand.
This was not good. He had no idea if his enemy was waiting for him outside. No idea what the situation was at all. And he couldn’t make this boy understand his questions, even supposing he had the answers Calrian was looking for.
The boy was still talking, his words quick and excited. He waved his hands around a few times, then back towards the entrance. Perhaps he was suggesting they should leave?
Calrian considered for a moment. If this boy had made it inside his Mesmer chamber, then surely that meant no enemy dragons were outside?
Unless he were working with them. Then all would be lost.
But Trima clan didn’t work with humans any more than Rian clan did.
Unless things had changed while he was asleep.
Calrian made himself stop the conjecture. There was no point in guessing. What he needed was some information. And he wasn’t going to get that here. He needed to find more people, even if they were human. Hopefully a female.
If he could touch a female, even a human, the magical connection that formed would be enough for him to understand what they were saying. To be able to talk back to them. Then maybe he could start finding out some answers.
But how could he explain that to this boy?
Luckily, the kid seemed to have more of an idea than he did. He pointed to his chest and said one word. When Calrian just stared at him incomprehensibly, he repeated both the gesture and the word. “Rowan.”
He repeated it a couple more times before Calrian got it. That was his name.
He pointed to the boy and said, “Rowan?”
The boy’s eyes lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically. “Rowan,” he repeated, pointing to himself. Then he pointed to Calrian.
It was easy to figure out what he wanted. “Calrian,” he said, pointing to himself.
“Calrian,” the boy repeated.
It was a start, at least. The message he really wanted to get across though, that he needed to find other people, wasn’t as simple. Calrian frowned, not even sure where to start.
The boy took his hand and tugged it slightly. He talked without stopping, and the sound was comforting, even if Calrian didn’t know the words. Every now and then, he caught the sound of his own name, usually accompanied by a backward glance. When that happened, he nodded, as though he understood.
Calrian pushed himself to his feet at the boy’s urging, although even just standing was an effort. He leaned on the boy’s, Rowan’s, shoulder, at first hesitantly, worried he wouldn’t be able to support Calrian’s weight, but then with more confidence once he felt the boy’s strength.
Rowan led him towards the entrance to the Mesmer chamber.
Calrian hesitated at the doorway. Even though his own power was too weak to perform any magic himself, he could feel the protective barrier around the chamber. The only thing that prevented his enemy coming inside. Once he passed beyond it, he would be vulnerable to attack.
That fact made him distinctly nervous. He could barely stand, his legs felt wobbly and unsteady. If there were a Trima dragon waiting out there, even the weakest of the entire clan, he stood no chance. He couldn’t even protect himself, let alone this boy who had found him. Who was helping him.
But he couldn’t stay here either.
Calrian hovered on the threshold.
There was nothing to be gained by waiting. Now that he was awake, he needed help. Food and shelter. Hopefully a woman to restore his strength. He had to take this chance.
Drawing in a deep breath, he let the boy pull him out through the entrance.
Outside, he paused, staring up at the sky, his ears straining for the sound of wings, for the zap of Trima lightning.
But none came.
Calrian let out his breath quietly. He followed Rowan up the narrow path, leaning on his shoulder more than he would have liked.
They were half way up when he saw it. A Trima dragon, sleeping in a cave on the other side of the canyon. It was dark in the cave, only Calrian’s dragon enhanced eyesight allowed him to notice the slight gleam of its silver scales.
Rowan said something, his loud voice echoing off the walls. Calrian winced, staring at the Trima dragon, worried it would wake and come after them. But to his relief, it didn’t stir.
It was only then that he realised Rowan was tugging on his arm. He’d stopped dead when he’d seen the dragon. That was what had caused Rowan to speak. Calrian winced. It was his own fault the boy had been so loud. He made himself start waking again, hoping that would stop the boy talking, and reduce the risk of waking the dragon.
Even as they continued up the side of the rocky cliff, he wondered why the Trima dragon hadn’t woken. It had to be here to watch for him waking. Surely it could sense his presence outside the Mesmer chamber, even through its sleep?
But it didn’t even stir as they edged their way up to the sunshine above.
Grateful as he was not to be noticed, since he could hardly fight the dragon in his condition, the fact that it appeared oblivious to him made Calrian slightly nervous. Until he realised that was exactly the reason.
He was so weak from the Mesmer sleep that his dragon magic was almost non-existent. That was why the Trima dragon paid no attention to him. Calrian’s presence must seem no different to a human’s.
Feeling a little strange at the fact that his weakness had turned out to be an advantage, Calrian kept following Rowan. Up, up they climbed, at times having to hug the wall when the ledge narrowed. Calrian leaned forwards a little at one such narrow point, trying to sense the river below.
That was why he had chosen this location. He’d imagined waking, mating with a female, then flying down to drink and wade in the cool water.
But his senses detected no sign of water. Was that because of his weakness, or was the river gone? Either possibility was frightening. And sobering.
Just how long had he been asleep?
Chapter 3
Rylee wiped a dish and put it away, then moved to stare out the window at the empty road again. She frowned. Where was Rowan? He’d gone out early that morning on his bike and had been out all day. She still struggled with him being alone so long, despite the fact that she’d done the same thing herself as a kid.
Her thinking had changed so much from her years in the city. She would never have even considered letting him go out alone all day there.
“The boy will show up. Relax.” Her dad came in and put a load of firewood in the box, despite the fact that she’d told him she could do it herself. She and Rowan had moved into the cottage on his block a little over a week ago, after she’d finally accepted the fact that she couldn’t afford to live in the city. Not as single mum who struggled to find a job after being out of the workforce for nearly twelve years.
Especially not when Eric kept hanging around, trying to convince her that she’d never make it on her own, and it would be best for Rowan if she gave in and went back to him. Rylee grimaced at the thought.
Her dad wasn’t too convinced she could make it on her own, either, but he kept that to himself—most of them time. Even if his actions did show it.
Rylee bit back a sigh. She’d had nowhere else to go. She needed to get her life back in order, get a job s
omehow and save up some money, then she could make an independent life for herself and Rowan. Until then, this was better than they could have hoped for.
At least they had their own space. The cottage was little, just two bedrooms and an open living room, but they didn’t have to deal with her dad all the time, even if he did just walk in and out when he felt like it.
Like now.
And like that morning, when he’d stopped by and Rowan had asked if he could go for a ride by himself and explore. Her father’s words did little to calm her now, just as they hadn’t convinced her then. She didn’t reply, just turned back to the washing up.
She heard her father leave, and her shoulders slumped as soon as he was gone.
Rowan was a sensible kid. She was sure he’d be fine.
She’d just be much happier when he was home.
“Mum!” A familiar voice floated on the breeze, and Rylee’s heart gave a leap. He was home. Safe.
And calling for her.
She dropped the tea towel on the bench, and hurried to the front door, pulling it open, only to see that her son wasn’t alone.
A man leaned heavily on his shoulder, looking exhausted and unwell.
Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest. Where had Rowan picked him up?
Usually her son brought home abandoned kittens or injured birds. Not grown men.
She hurried down the driveway, meeting her son at the gate. “Where have you been all day?” she demanded, looking him up and down to be sure he was all right, before turning her gaze on the man.
His presence hit her like a hammer, slamming into her and weakening her knees. Despite his obvious infirmity, his sea blue eyes stared at her, and for a second, Rylee almost felt like he was looking into her soul. Her breath caught in her throat.
He stumbled a little, and grabbed the gate post, releasing Rowan, who spoke excitedly. “This is Calrian, Mum. I found him in a cave in a canyon west of here. He doesn’t seem to speak English, and there’s something wrong with him, he can’t walk very well.”
