by S. A. Ravel
Dragon Blood: The Lost Dragon Princes 4
A Powyrworld Urban Fantasy Romance
S.A. Ravel
Edited by
Danae Ashe
Edited by
Emma Alisyn
Dreamkeeper Publishing
Copyright © 2017 by Danae Ashe/Dreamkeeper Publishing
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Proofreading by Michelle Hoffman
Powyrworld: The Lost Dragon Princes was developed by Emma Alisyn & Danae Ashe
Contents
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Welcome to Powyrworld
Glossary
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
Dragon Star: Sneak Peek
Dragon Claimed: Sneak Peek
Dragon Mob: Sneak Peek
Alpha Unmasked
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About the Author
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WELCOME TO POWYRWORLD, where dragons, wytches, and vampyrs battle for power and survival among humans, and their ancient, demigod ancestors watch from afar- willing to step in and restore balance should any one conflict threaten the survival of the planet…
The Lost Dragon Princes: The identities of the 5 missing Princes’ of the Dragon Court are finally revealed…
Dragon Star by Emma Alisyn & Anna Morgan. Vampyr rockstar prince meets- and mates- beautiful dragon general.
Dragon Claimed by Cecilia Lane. Dragon Court spy meets her match- and her mate- in a Shadow Mob boss.
Dragon Mob by Tiffany Allee A secret dragon prince of the Mob. The favored daughter of a rival Don. A mating that reveals a family secret….
Dragon Blood by S.A. Ravel. A Thunderbird skinwalker seeks the help of a reclusive dragon wizard against the dark mage threatening their secret baby.
Dragon Prince by Emma Alisyn coming soon
Each title is a standalone connected with the book before and after, but the series does not need to be read in order of publication.
POWYRWORLD GLOSSARY
Khepreians: A race of demigod beings with the ability to wield a magical force called Powyr, and shift into any shape of their choosing, at any time. They are the ancestor species of all Powyrful non-humans. Stay to themselves and are rarely seen, however will interfere in current events if their children are about to cause a world war or something. Wytches tell their children to behave or the Khepreians will come get them...
Dragons: Shapeshifters descended from the Khepreians. Birth live young, breathe fire and mate for life.
Mesopotamians (Wytches & Wyrlocks): A race of powyr wielding ‘humans’ descended most directly from the Khepreians. They live in covens.
Vampyrs (Dragon Star): Mesopotamian’s who have fallen victim to a blood disease caused by a curse gone wrong a millennia ago. Dying of anything other than natural causes activates the curse. Vampyrs are also able to infect, through bites, non Mesopotamians as long as they carry some kind of Khepreian gene. This is how many people who believed they are human find out that nope, someone supernatural dipped their tallywacker in the mortal pond...
Patomas: Island home of the dragons. Currently magically encased so dragon cannot leave without permission, due to civil war.
Cognate (Dragon Star): The name for a group of vampyrs bound by blood oath. Typically live in same neighborhood and are governed by a single sire.
Shadow Mob (Dragon Claimed): The One-Drop Rule is considered even in the criminal underworld. Any connected individual found to have a drop of Powyr in their blood is funneled into the Shadow Mob. They are assigned a Don, tested by combat to identify their power level, and assigned a role in the organization.
Shadow Yakuza (Dragon Claimed): As with the Shadow Mob, the Shadow Yakuza is made up of Yakuza with Powyr in their blood. While the Shadow Mob families are loosely affiliated with one another and act on the personal goals of individual family heads, the Yakuza are a single fist and act with the entire organization in mind.
Powyr: The name of the magical force wield by all people of Khepreian descent, to various degrees.
Heat: Sexual maturity for male dragons. Occurs by mid-twenties. They are sexually inactive until then. Vulnerable during the Heat, they tend to attach to a female if he sleeps with her during that time. Many choose to closet themselves away if they cannot find a willing female to sleep with who agrees to not take advantage of their mating instinct.
The Heat can be suppressed or delayed by a spell or by being raised by non-dragons (pheromones trigger the Heat, so the lack thereof suppresses it.)
Sire: A vampyr who has created offspring through a bite.
Descent: The offspring, through a bite, of a vampyr.
The Lost Dragon Princes: The moniker given to the five dragon hatchlings of the current mated Delphina & Pythian pair. Kidnapped, and current whereabouts not known.
Delphina: The female co-rule of the dragons.
Pythian: The male co-rule of the dragons.
The Mad Queen: The current Delphina. Went mad decades ago when her five hatchlings disappeared from eerie cribs. Is powyrful, and not quite sane. Rules with her husband, the Pythian.
Calla Andris (Dragon Star): First General of the Dragon Court.
Mateo Guerin (Dragon Star): Celebrity rockstar, secret assassins and vampyr. Also a dragon.
Annika Leeds (Heroine, Dragon Claimed. Secondary character, Dragon Star): A member of the dragon court
Eoghan Gilchrist (Hero, Dragon Claimed): Shadow Mob boss, dragon
Giancarlo Spadaro (Hero, Dragon Mob): Mob prince and dragon shifter. Don of his newly formed Shadow Mob family, with his mate, Domenica, as his Capo.
Domenica Todaro (Heroine, Dragon Mob): Mob daughter who now serves as a Capo in the Shadow Mob with her mate, Giancarlo.
1
For the better part of a year, everyone Sanaa Chavez met at her job told her to expect sleepless nights. They didn’t bother to fake pity when they said it. None of them looked her in the eye. They glanced at her swollen belly or at the snoozing bundle in her arms, with a devious twinkle in their eyes. The judgement was always the same, a lifetime of chronic insomnia. As if she weren’t already worried she would somehow fuck up her child beyond repair.
Sanaa could handle sleepless nights. She had lost more than a few hours of slumber to sillier things over the years. If her daughter was happy and healthy, Sanaa figured she could manage whatever life threw at them. The problem was nobody remembered to tell her the baby wouldn’t be the only reason she lost sleep. None of the would-be well-wishers warned her guppy demons might shatter her windows in the middle of the night. Of course, the only people who might have warned her weren’t speaking to her.
The six-inch, gray-bodied demons were twice the size of the fish her cousin Kane named them for. They moved in small groups like schools of fish, gnashing their teeth at their prey. A skinwalker, if they were lucky, could go their entire lives without encountering the little bastards.
Sanaa almost mistook the faint clacking against her trailer roof for rain. Lord knew they needed it. Reality slapped her in the face when one of the li
ttle red-eyed demons broke through the window. She grabbed her baby and the first thing she could find to swat the fucker back outside.
She would have given anything for a sharp knife. Even a solid bat would have done the job. Dozens of guppy demons streamed through the window. Sanaa snatched the nearest heavy object, a cast iron pan still coated in lard and bean mush. She backhanded a charging group of demons, sending them careening into the particle board cabinet.
There was no need to waste her brain power trying to figure out who sent the dark spawn after her. It could only be someone who knew where she lived, wanted something inside the double wide, and had no compunctions about using dark powyr to get it. Sanaa only knew one person who checked all boxes. But this was over-the-top, even for her.
The tiny powyr demons regrouped and rushed Sanaa. Pain ripped up the sides of her legs as they slashed her skin with their razor-sharp claws. More flooded through the window every second. Their gray bodies bounded from the floor to the ceiling with each leap. She swatted at them with her frying pan. Beans flew over the walls, but the guppies dodged every swing.
White-hot strings of pain tore through Sanaa’s skin, and she pawed at the trailer door. Her bloody fingers slipped over the metal latch, costing her precious seconds. The demons had numbers on their side in the small space. A few more seconds and they would overwhelm her. Like hell she was going to let the evil things take or hurt her daughter. Sanaa dropped the pan, which squished one of the guppies into a puff of black smoke, and grabbed the fabric sling from the table. She slid her daughter into it. Their only chance was to get outside where she could unleash her imprint form.
Relief washed over her as the door gave way. She could almost taste the pleasure she would get from nuking the fuckers with a lightning bolt. In large numbers, the guppies could do massive damage, but they had no will of their own. They couldn’t strategize or counterattack. In the open air, her powers would give her the critical advantage.
Sanaa set her baby down on the dirt. Changing forms so close to her infant would require more care than she was used to. The talons of her Thunderbird form could easily rip the baby to pieces, but Sanaa, at least, would take care not to hurt her child, the guppies wouldn’t be so kind.
But when Sanaa reached for her Thunderbird form she felt nothing. No movement in her muscles as the fibers stretched. She flexed her fingers, looking for the tell-tale stiffness as they hollowed and grew. Nothing.
The baby shrieked again. Sanaa looked down at her daughter, her small body sinking to the dirt. The baby lay undisturbed, eyes closed, her russet skin stained red in anger. The guppies snarled and gnashed their teeth as they lashed out with their tiny talons. The guppies attacked Sanaa with full force, sheering her skin apart with the ease of a surgeon's scalpel while their beady red eyes remained locked on her.
Panic set in, stealing her breath as her heart rate amped ever higher. She snatched the baby from the ground and ran. It wasn't a fight she could win on her own. Not with her Bird out of commission. Retreat was her only chance.
Damn those little demons and their poisoned claws.
Sanaa pumped her legs until her blood flowed battery acid through her veins. She ran until the pain spread across her skin, turning each appendage into a searing mass of nerves, red and raw.
Her daughter, usually fussy so late in the evening, wasn't shy about voicing her fear. Her cries reverberated off the canyon walls as Sanaa rushed through the plateau behind her trailer, guppies biting at her heels. The razor-sharp echo made Sanaa wince, but the pain was useful. She used it as a guide to find the canyon in the darkness. Only one man might take pity on her and offer her sanctuary. And she didn't have time to worry about what safety might cost her.
She tore at the buttons of her shirt with her fingers, tugging her engorged breast free and sliding a dripping nipple into her baby's mouth. The jostling of her legs made a smooth latch impossible. Her daughter's squeals grew shriller. Every cell in her body wanted to stop then and comfort the girl. What mother wouldn't want to soothe their baby, make them feel like everything was alright?
But everything wasn't alright. In the canyon, the shrill cries of the guppies were amplified, but reverberation alone didn't account for the increased volume. More of the creatures must have joined the horde at some point. Sanaa had long since lost feeling in her legs; they weren’t injured because she was still moving forward. The rocks along the path tore open the soles of her bare feet and stained the sandy dirt with her blood. If she stopped, she was dead, and her baby would be at their mercy.
She had come so far, and she didn't have much further to go. Just a few more feet...and if the gods were with her, if fate had any love for her at all...he would be there.
Leave. And if you value your freedom—if you value your life…do not come back.
Sanaa could hear the specter of the dragon whispering in her ear. But what did she care about her freedom or her life? Death had taken a liking to her, even he would see it. The dragon would still be in his roost, waiting for the people of Bloodbone Skinwalkers to worship him as they had for a decade. The Dragon in the Mountain would answer her pleas.
The rock formations on either side of the path kept climbing, blotting the sky from the landscape until suddenly falling away at the edge of a clearing. Something snapped in her legs, taking the last bit of strength she had with it. She barely managed to roll over on her side, curling around the infant and cradling her for protection. Her side collided with the dirt, knocking the wind from her.
No!
She couldn’t make it to the summoning bell. The guppies were on her in seconds, tearing at her, clawing at every bit of skin with their dripping talons. She could taste the poison in her mouth, a tingling, sharp acid burned her tongue.
She rolled over and dug her nails into the dirt, scratching a path forward. She couldn't see. The bounding demons tainted the very air around them, filling it with their foul essence even as they blocked the fresh air from her lungs. Sanaa inhaled, taking the dank air deep into her lungs. It hurt like hell, but she only needed the one breath.
Sanaa leaned back and screamed, releasing the supersonic screech of her Thunderbird, letting it tear its way through her lips. The guppies stopped their assault, clamping their hands over the deformed stumps of their ears as the sound bounced off the canyon walls and rammed into them.
She wanted to stay awake, to make sure the evil things didn't get her child. To hell with what happened to her, just let the baby live. But the blackness was already overtaking her.
The thunderous shriek still echoed in Ronin’s ears as he flew toward the clearing. It was a pitch beyond what most creatures could manage, and tinged with desperation. Skinwalkers were scattered around the Southwest, and secretive by necessity. The local tribe, apparently, considered their willingness to summon him a sign of respect for his powyr. He found it more annoying, than endearing. They gave him what trinkets and valuables they had and asked favors of him. He took what they offered, spun some clever metaphor to make them feel better, and tried to be a good neighbor. A good, distant neighbor.
In the ten years after Adad released him from his training, Ronin made his home in the mountain near the skinwalkers, and a solitary home it was. He conducted most of his business from home, sending manuscripts and contracts to his agent over the internet. Over the last year, he’d managed to whittle his trips to town down to once a month, if Bandit was healthy. The skinwalkers in the valley south of his mountain home were the only people he saw regularly. He never answered a summons from them in his human form. Something told him the skinwalkers wouldn’t welcome the intrusion of reality into their mythical world. None of the Bloodbone had ever asked for anything more than the dragon.
Until her. The veterinary assistant from town. The only Bloodbone to see his human form, albeit briefly. The woman who would have been his mate, if his heart were still his to give.
If that was her plan, she was in for major disappointment. The raven-haired B
loodbone woman would find her beauty and fierce nature, both of which had locked his cock in a vice once, had no effect on him this time. He said the requisite spells to keep his Heat suppressed the second he heard her call. Of all the gifts Adad had given him that was still the one he was most thankful for.
He needed a clear head when he saw her again. Whether she came to pay tribute with her flesh or other trinkets, Ronin had no intention of letting her back into his life. She’d come too close already.
The dragon dipped his wings, skimming the air above the canyon as the tribute clearing came into view. He wasn't ashamed to admit to the rush he felt when a human kowtowed to his dragon form. The skinwalker had been especially delicious in the position, her chest heaving as she fought to hold eye contact with him. None of the others had managed to lift their noses from the dirt. What sane person looked a fire-breathing beast in the eye?
Ronin caught the scent of blood on the wind. The woman laid in the dirt, unmoving. He bared his fangs as he hovered over the area, calling on his powyr to keep him aloft. His wings could do the job just as well, but the gust of air from his wings could blow a mere human away.
