Blood Harvest (Blood Curse Series Book 12)
Page 31
And so it came to pass that seven sacred lairs were erected in the archaic domain of the dragons in order to house the powerful race begotten of the ancient gods, each lair in honor of its ruling dragon lord:
Lord Dragos, Keeper of the Diamond
Lord Ethyron, Keeper of the Emerald
Lord Saphyrius, Keeper of the Sapphire
Lord Amarkyus, Keeper of the Amethyst
Lord Onyhanzian, Keeper of the Onyx
Lord Cytarius, Keeper of the Citrine
& Lord Topenzi, Keeper of the Topaz
While a dragyri may appear to be human, he is not.
While a dragyra may appear to belong to her mate, she does not.
While the Dragyr may be fierce, invincible, and strong, they are never truly free…
He continued to take the stairs, two at a time, until he had passed her without incident, and then he suddenly stopped in midstride and spun around to face her.
She sensed it more than she saw it.
She could literally feel his domineering presence behind her, and despite her immediate impulse to run, she turned to face him instead.
The stranger tilted his head to the side and emitted some strange, feral sound. It was almost like a snarl, and Jordan’s heart began to race. They locked eyes a second time, and she almost let out a yelp: He was glaring at her now, like she had stolen his firstborn child, his dark, sculpted brows creased into a frown.
She unwittingly took a step back, clutched the rail, once again, for stability, and stifled a terrified gasp. Determined to appear calm, she stuffed her free hand into her pocket, hunched her shoulders in some instinctive, submissive gesture, and slowly backed away, feeling carefully for each stair beneath her.
He took a casual step toward her, and she almost bolted.
He halted, almost as if he dared not frighten her any further, and then he did the oddest, most animalistic thing: He inhaled deeply, sniffed the air, and he groaned.
Whether it was a groan of annoyance, impatience, or anger, Jordan had no idea, but that was the final straw—she had no intention of sticking around to find out.
Releasing the rail, she spun around in a whirl, leaped the four remaining stairs—almost twisting her ankle—and took off running for her car, all the while digging frantically for her keys as she ran. She could hear the stranger’s footsteps behind her, and she cringed at the stupidity of her choice. Why hadn’t she screamed or tried to push past him? Headed back in the direction of the mall, to the safety of other people?
Rounding the corner of the parking garage, she eyed her forest-green, metallic BMW, only five spaces away, and rotated her key-fob in her hand, pressing the unlock button over and over, just to be sure it opened. She glanced over her shoulder to judge the distance between herself and the stranger, and gasped, her feet skidding to a sudden halt.
He wasn’t there.
Even though she could have sworn she’d heard his footsteps just moments ago, the man was no longer behind her.
She pressed her hand to her heart and fought to catch her breath, feeling a curious mixture of both relief and embarrassment. She scanned the garage in all four directions, making sure she hadn’t overlooked his presence, that he wasn’t hiding behind a nearby post or a vehicle, and then she started once again for her car.
Angry tears filled her eyes as she finally reached her BMW, yanked on the door handle, and bent to climb inside.
“Stop.” An invisible hand snatched her by the arm, slammed her door shut behind her, and pressed her back against the driver’s-side panel. And then, just like that, the stranger was standing, once again, in front of her.
What the hell!?
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About the Author
Tessa Dawn grew up in Colorado, where she developed a deep affinity for the Rocky Mountains. After graduating with a degree in psychology, she worked for several years in criminal justice and mental health before returning to get her master’s degree in nonprofit management.
Tessa began writing as a child and composed her first full-length novel at the age of eleven. By the time she graduated high school, she had a banker’s box full of short stories and novels. Since then, she has published works as diverse as poetry, greeting cards, workbooks for kids with autism, and academic curricula. Her Dark Fantasy/Gothic Romance novels represent her long-desired return to her creative-writing roots and her passionate flair for storytelling.
Tessa currently splits her time between the Colorado suburbs and mountains with her husband, two children, and “one very crazy cat.” She hopes to one day move to the country, where she can own horses and what she considers “the most beautiful creature ever created”—a German shepherd.
Writing is her bliss.