Dragon's Darling (Fablestone Clan Book 3)

by Sophie Stern

  Contents

  Dragon’s Darling

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Author

  Readers!

  More shifters!

  The Wolf’s Darling

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Honeypot Darlings

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Dragon’s Darling

  The Fablestone Clan: Book 3

  Sophie Stern

  Copyright © 2018 by Sophie Stern

  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.

  Julie doesn't need trouble.

  What she needs is a break.

  That's why she decides to spend spring vacation camping in the woods on her own: no phone, no television, no Internet. She doesn't need anything to distract her while she's busy moping about her failed relationships and lack of a social life.

  It's not long before Julie realizes she's not alone in the forest. She's heard rumors about the woods, sure, but dragons?

  Those are just fairytales.

  Or are they?

  Chapter One

  Julie

  No one really bats an eye when you tell them you’re in a bad relationship. These days, being single is what scares people. It’s better to be in a bad relationship with someone sociable than to be alone. At least, that’s the way it feels sometimes.

  I’m tired of that.

  I’m tired of that stigma.

  That’s why I’m here.

  That’s why I’m in Westbridge Forest on my very own camping trip. If you had asked me last year in the midst of my relationship with Andrew whether I’d ever find myself doing anything like this on my own, I would have laughed. Traveling, camping, and restaurants are things you do in groups. You don’t do those things on your own.

  At least, that’s what I always thought.

  Now I’m singing a different tune and I’ve never been happier.

  The spot I chose to camp for the night is secluded and quiet. I won’t be bothered here. No, there’s no cell service, no running water, and no electricity, but I don’t care about that because being alone is exactly what I need right now.

  I need a break.

  From everything.

  With a bit of difficulty, I manage to pitch my tent and build a fire. It’s a tiny, pathetic little fire, but it’s mine. I made it myself and I’m proud of that damn thing. It was hard work creating something from nothing, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let something like it being imperfect get the best of me.

  I hear a sound in the night and I close my eyes as I listen to it. Wolves, maybe? Are there wolves out here? I know there are bears, but from what I can tell, they’re on the opposite end of the forest. No one’s really reported any bear attacks this close to Westbridge, at least as far as I can tell.

  The noises break the silence of the night. Howls and cries from far off: much too far away for me to worry about, yet I still find myself wondering if I’m actually going to be safe out here. I’m fast and I pay close attention, but I know there’s no way I’d be able to fight off a large creature if one really wanted to attack me.

  What are they howling about?

  Tomorrow is a full moon, so maybe there will be even more of them then. I know most of the things I’ve heard about forest wolves are likely untrue. Still, I’m starting to grow a little weary, so I put out the fire and go into my tent.

  Pulling out a flashlight and the novel I packed, I read in the darkness for a long time until I finally fall into a restless sleep. The world might be a stage, but right now, I’m forgetting all of my lines.

  *

  I’m hot and sweaty when I wake up the next morning. A quick glance at my watch lets me know I slept until noon and the sun is high in the sky. Thus the sweat. I break down my tent quickly, pack everything up, and keep walking. My journey isn’t over yet.

  When I first decided to go camping in Westbridge Forest – AKA “The Forbidden Forest – I had an idea of what it would be like. The reality is quite different. It’s beautiful, for one thing. I suppose I always pictured the forest as being dark and dim with very little life. There are rumors in Westbridge about the forest itself: rumors that it’s a terrible place.

  Some people even think it’s haunted.

  I know it’s nonsense, of course, and now that I’m here, I can’t help but wonder why those rumors permeate so much of the town’s folklore. I’ve lived in Westbridge my entire life and I’ve never heard of the forest being a pretty place. I’ve never heard of the flowers that grow here. I’ve never heard of the creeks that run through it.

  Here they are, though.

  And here I am.

  I keep walking, stopping occasionally to check my map and compass. I only have a week off of work. Then it’s back to teaching English to high school students. I love my job, but I’m glad I have some time to just be alone and think for a little while. Sometimes things at work get so busy that I never really get to just relax.

  That time is now.

  I’m heading for a place called Stone Tower. It’s one of those local urban legends I’ve always wondered about and now I’m going to find out if it really exists. Then, if I have time, I’ll go try to find one of the little forest towns that, again, might not even be real.

  I’m pretty good with a map, and by the time the sun is starting to set, I’m pretty sure I’ve found it. The Stone Tower. It’s huge, really, and unlike anything I’ve ever seen. I drop my backpack, pull out my camera, and snap a few pictures. The moon is going to rise soon and I’ll take some more.

  No one knows who built this tower, or any of them. Supposedly, there are at least half a dozen of them in the woods. There have been stories written about them and fables and songs, but these things are so deep in the woods that no one ever treks out here.

  I found it, though, and a wave of satisfaction rolls over me. I did it. I might not be good at relationships and I might not be good at keeping a steady boyfriend, but I did something right. I found this thing, and I’m going to fucking camp here.

  I pitch my tent, start a fire, and sit around it with my book. It’s warm, but not hot, and I’m glad because I can really enjoy the evening air as it cools. Besides, I never get enough time to read. Soon I’m so engrossed in the story that I don’t notice anything else: not the air growing cooler, not the sky getting darker, not my fire growing dimmer.

  Then suddenly, the fire goes out, and I’m thrust into darkness.

  “Fuck,” I reach into my pocket, pulling out a small, emergency flashlight. My bigger flashlight is in the tent already with the rest of my stuff. Flicking on the little light, I shine it around. For a second, I thought I heard something. Someone. I didn’t, though. Everything’s fine.

  Everything’s okay.

  Everything’s normal.

  It is late, though, and I should really be getting to bed, so I move toward my tent and start to unzip it.

  Then I do hear sounds.

  Noises.

  Laughte
r.

  That can’t be right.

  Who would be laughing in this part of the forest? Who would be out here in the middle of the night? I’m supposed to be completely isolated. No one should be around for miles, yet I can distinctly hear laughter. There are two different people laughing, actually, and they sound like women.

  So, what do I do?

  I don’t know what the proper etiquette is in a situation like this.

  Should I go let them know that I’m camping nearby, but that I won’t bother them?

  Do I ignore them and do nothing?

  What if they’re hunters and they accidentally shoot me? That could happen, right?

  I’d better go say something.

  With a sigh, I dig around in my tent until I find my larger flashlight. Then I flick it on, turn around, and start moving toward the sound of the voices. I’m doing my best not to be too loud, lest they think I’m an animal, but I don’t think I’m doing a very good job.

  I’m an English teacher: not a professional silent forest walker.

  As I near the other campers, I can see the light from their fire, and I can make out two people in the dim lighting. They’re both female, and they’re still giggling and laughing. Are they out here drinking? Doing drugs? Just having fun?

  I pause for a minute, trying to hear what they’re saying, but their voices are too low.

  Well, this is it, then. Now or never.

  “Hello?” I call out. “Hey, hello!” I shout as I approach the campers, and they instantly go silent.

  “Who’s out there?” One says.

  “I…uh…my name is Julie?” I don’t know why I’m saying it like it’s a question. That’s definitely my name. “I’m camping nearby,” I say, stepping into the clearing and out of the shadows. Now I can clearly see the women here. Yes, there are definitely two of them. They’re tall and fit. They both look like they work out regularly, and instantly, I know they could take me in a fight. Not that this will come to that. They don’t own the forest. It’s not like they can tell me to leave.

  “What are you doing here?” One of the women asks. She’s got long dark hair that’s pulled back in a tight ponytail. The other woman is slightly smaller than this one. She has blonde hair.

  “I’m just camping,” I hold my hands up in a silent plea of innocence. “I heard you guys and just wanted to let you know that, well, that I’m here. Wasn’t sure if you were hunting or something, so thought it would be best to let you know I’m close by.”

  The girls look me up and down for a minute, then exchange glances with one another. They seem to be sizing me up, and each other, as well. Finally, the blonde girl speaks.

  “Want a drink?” She asks. “We’ve got vodka.”

  Drinking in the woods with other adult women? Who have jobs? Who aren’t obsessed with boyfriends?

  Sign me up.

  “Yeah,” I tell her with a smile. “Yeah, I definitely want a drink.”

  Chapter Two

  Lawrence

  She shouldn’t be taking that drink.

  Not that I’m one to talk about making good, appropriate choices, but taking an alcoholic beverage from strangers in the woods? That’s just plain stupid. It’s strange because there doesn’t seem to be anything stupid about this woman at all. She’s human, which is obvious. Her scent is sweet and unique: entirely hers. I caught wind of her while I was waiting to see if anyone showed up at the stone tower.

  When she appeared, I thought she might be in trouble. Cameron met Peggy there, after all. That girl was on the run from Lucky: an evil organization hell-bent on the destruction of dragon shifters. This woman isn’t on the run, though. If anything, she seems to be on a journey.

  I don’t know much about humans, but I do know that sometimes, they get these ideas in their heads about finding themselves. Like sometimes they want to just “rediscover” who they are or something like that. Is that what she’s doing?

  She stayed by the tower for a long time. I thought she was going to just go to sleep. I don’t mind guarding her in the darkness. She doesn’t need to know I’m here. She didn’t notice me from my perch high in the trees, but that’s just as well. This way, I can watch over her now that she’s around other humans.

  These ones don’t smell as sweet.

  These ones seem like they’re up to no good.

  Carefully shrouded in the shadows, I move closer to the clearing where the women are talking.

  “What’s your name?” The woman with dark hair says. “I’m Nicole and this is Bernie,” she motions toward the woman with blonde hair.

  “Bernie?” The human girl asks. “That’s a cute name.”

  “It’s short for Bernadette,” the blonde tells her.

  “I’m Julie.”

  “Take this, Julie,” Nicole says, handing her a cup. Julie peers inside.

  Don’t drink it, I silently beg, but she does, sipping it slowly at first. Then her eyes go wide.

  “It’s good!” She says. “What is it?”

  “My own special recipe,” Nicole tells her, and then the girls all giggle. “Come on, have a seat. What are you doing out here all alone?”

  “Camping,” Julie says. That much was obvious. “What about you?”

  “We’re on a journey of sorts,” Nicole says, and I don’t like the way she says that. Of sorts? What the hell does that mean? I can’t quite see all of their equipment and supplies, but something tells me that Nicole and Bernie aren’t here on some spring break getaway. They’re here for other reasons, and none of the ones I’m thinking of are good.

  In fact, they’re all terrible.

  “Well, seems like a good enough place to find yourself,” Julie comments, sipping her drink.

  “Yeah?” Bernie asks, raising an eyebrow. “So what’s your story, sweetheart?”

  Sweetheart?

  Really?

  Come on, Julie, I silently beg the woman. See through this. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

  I’m itching to jump in like the white knight I imagine myself to be. It’s a dragon thing, I tell myself. I love the idea of saving a girl from trouble, of rescuing her from unforeseen circumstances that could terrorize and harm her.

  There’s another part of me, a less noble part, that’s much too curious for my own good. A girl like Julie? What’s she doing in the darkness of the forest?

  Julie rolls her eyes. “Bad breakup. You know the drill.”

  “Do we ever,” Bernie snickers. She jerks her head toward Nicole. “This girl just got out of a cray-zay relationship. Then again, you probably know all about that.”

  “Yup,” Julie takes a swig of her drink. There’s no doubt the alcohol is starting to get to her already. To a normal person, she might look the same, but to a dragon shifter? Julie’s starting to look less focused. Her eyes are glazing over, just a little. She’s having a hard time concentrating.

  “What happened?” Nicole asks, placing her hand on Julie’s knees.

  “My fucking best friend happened,” she says. My heart squeezes, tensing involuntarily. Ouch. Talk about cliché. I wonder what happened. Did she have too many late nights at work? Was her friend jealous of her beauty? Maybe she just got caught up with the wrong guy at the wrong time. I don’t know, but it’s insane to me that someone could even fathom hurting someone as beautiful or as sweet as Julie.

  “Damn,” Nicole and Bernie say at the same time.

  “Yeah. It’s funny, I always heard all of these stories about this shit happening, but until it happens to you? You can’t really understand. I didn’t, at least. I mean, Samantha and I were friends. Best friends, I thought. We lived together for a couple of years and everything. Working together, teaching together, living together: Samantha and I had it all.”

  “So what went wrong?” Nicole asks. I notice she hasn’t taken a sip of her drink in awhile. I wonder what con she’s trying to pull. Two little humans won’t be difficult to overtake if things go wrong. The truth is that I don’t know any of
them, though, and I shouldn’t make a snap judgment.

  “I started subbing,” she says. “And tutoring after work. Thought it would be a good way to get a little extra money.”

  “Ah. Boyfriend thought you were gone too much?”

  “I guess. He and Sam started hanging out.” Julie stands up and starts pacing in front of the fire. She’s holding her cup tightly, but she hasn’t taken another sip.

  “How’d you find out?” Nicole asks, softening her voice.

  Julie starts to raise her cup to her lips, then seems to trip on something I can’t see. She stumbles forward, dumping the contents of her drink beside the fire. Nicole looks irritated.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” Julie says quickly. “I’m so clumsy,” she giggles. “Did I get any on you?”

  “No, but we have bigger problems than wet pants,” Bernie says, jumping into the conversation. She reaches for Julie’s cup. “Let’s get you another drink.”

  “That’s okay. I can make it myself,” Julie says, heading toward the cooler.

  “Please,” Bernadette steps in front of her. “I insist. What kind of a host would I be if I didn’t get you a drink?”

  Julie hesitates for a minute and then shrugs. “Sure,” she says. “Whatever.”

  She sits back next to Nicole and lowers her voice.

  “So how long have you and Bernie been friends?”

  A change of subject.

  Interesting.

  Julie is fascinating me. I don’t consider myself an expert in reading people. Not by any means. Still, I’m educated enough and well-versed enough in psychology to know what she’s doing. She’s establishing a connection with Nicole, and I’m not sure why.

  “Not that long,” Nicole says. “We just started working together, but what about you? You were about to tell me – us – what happened with the boy toy?”

  “Here you are,” Bernie appears again, shoving a drink into Julie’s hands.

  “Thanks.”