by Lilly Pink
THE DRAGON
OF HER DREAMS
A PARANORMAL LOVE & PREGNANCY ROMANCE
LILLY PINK
Copyright ©2016 by Lilly Pink
All rights reserved.
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About This Book
Like most women, Zoe Drake enjoyed the odd sexy dream whenever they came up.
She especially enjoyed the recurring dream she had about a handsome man who could shapeshift into a dragon at free will. Although she could not remember much about the dreams she knew they were incredibly steamy.
However, when Zoe suddenly found herself to be pregnant despite having never had sex in a year she had to face up to the impossible truth.
That these dreams were not really dreams at all…
This is a unique spin on the average paranormal shifter romance theme. If you want to read a book that will BLOW your mind then start reading this one right away, you will not regret it!
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 ONE
“Room for dessert, ladies?” the waitress asked, a brittle and too wide smile pasted on her face. Zoe had seen Barbies with more genuine expressions. And tans.
“No, I’m stuffed,” said her sister, Lauren, already whipping out her checkbook. Zoe frowned. She knew Lauren was going to try to pay for lunch again. She seemed to believe the fact that Zoe worked as an artist, which immediately implied that she was destitute. “What about you?” her sister asked as she dug into her purse for a pen.
“Actually, I have been craving some banana cream pie. Do you guys have any?” Zoe asked the waitress.
“No, we don’t. Right now our special pie is apple blackberry,” she said in a tone of forced apology. The poor girl probably couldn’t decide if she was more sad about missing out on the extra tip, or happy she didn’t have to get them a pie.
“No thanks. Guess we’re done, so we’ll just need the check.” The waitress cleared their plates and went to get the bill.
“Banana cream pie? You’ve always hated bananas, since we were kids,” Lauren said with a perplexed frown. “You threw a fit once when mom accidentally put banana muffins in your lunch box instead of blueberry.”
Zoe shrugged. “Maybe I grew out of it. I don’t know, I’ve been really wanting them lately, and pie sounded good.”
“You’re probably pregnant,” Lauren said with a grin that managed to be both teasing and patronizing at the same time. Maybe Zoe was being over sensitive, but sometimes it felt like her younger sister couldn’t help but rub her perfect happy family right in her face.
She snorted. “Considering I haven’t even had a date since last Christmas, I’m pretty sure that’s impossible. Now give me the bill. I told you we’re splitting it.”
“Too late!” Lauren crowed. “I already made out the check. Consider it my contribution to your future child’s college fund,” she cackled.
“For the last time, I am not pregnant!”
***
Crazy as it was, once the idea was planted in her head, it wouldn’t go away. For the rest of the day, she couldn’t help but be reminded of the strange things that had been happening the past few months. There had been that flu that wouldn’t go away, making her nauseous at bizarre times along with a constant stuffy nose.
It had never seemed serious enough to go to a doctor, especially considering that she hadn’t met her yearly deductible, and it had finally faded. And before that, she’d thought she had a UTI when she felt like peeing every hour for a week straight, but chugging cranberry juice had sorted it out. Now she was fine, a little tired, yes, but she’d been busy on a couple of big commissions. Everything had a logical explanation.
She hadn’t been lying to Lauren about her romantic issues, either. The guy she’d taken to that Christmas party had been a complete non-starter, and that had been more than seven months ago. The last person she’d actually slept with had been her ex-boyfriend, Justin. They broke over a year ago. Last thing she’d heard, he was engaged. So, unless she was some sort of medical miracle, pregnancy was out of the question.
An image flashed through her mind as she unlocked the door to her apartment. Eyes the color of sunlight and honey. A voice whispering low and soft in her ear. “Jãné del-am,” he said. Life of my heart.
Zoe blinked in surprise. Where had that come from? Maybe she’d seen it in a movie? That must be it.
Shaking her head at her overactive imagination, she went to get changed. She needed to finalize the sketches for the commission she was working on: a big mural for a baby’s room, which was one of her favorite types of projects. A quick stop by the kitchen so she could turn on the coffee maker, and then she went to her bedroom to get changed, shucking off her button-down shirt and jeans for a well-worn and pain-spattered t-shirt and her favorite sweatpants, which were slate blue and cut off just below the knee.
Normally, she would have felt an immediate sense of comfort and relief, but instead, she reacted with mingled irritation and panic. Her favorite pants were just slightly too tight. Could they have shrunk in the wash? Lauren’s words came floating back to her on a cloud of anxiety. It was still impossible, but Zoe knew she had a test under the bathroom sink. Last time she’d had a scare, she’d bought a three-pack. She decided to use it, just to ease her own mind, and when it was negative, as it obviously would be, she’d know it was time to start exercising.
Three minutes later, “This can’t be right!” she said loudly, to no one in particular. Her cat gave her a haughty look from the top of the bookshelf. “This thing has got to be expired or something,” she muttered. “Because I sure as hell am no blessed virgin.”
Smooth skin the color of polished oak sliding under her fingers, heated with desire. Lips meeting in fierce tenderness, a panting breath spills across her face as he gasps out her name. They fit together perfectly, and she can almost hear their hearts beating in sync as their bodies find an ancient rhythm. When the release comes, like a star crashing to earth, she knows she will never want another…
“What is wrong with me?” she said in the silence, pleading with an unhearing universe. Now her cat came down from his perch and wound consolingly around her legs, meowing in a concerned way. After checking to ensure that the test was not, in fact, expired, she scooped him into her arms and buried her face in his soot-colored fur. “Nahuel, I think I am losing my mind.” He rubbed his face against hers; his purrs were like a lawn mower engine, reassuring in thei
r familiar ridiculous loudness. Soothed, she set him back down on the ground.
“Okay, I’m just going to take the other test, and then…. I’m going to have some ice cream. I’ll call the doctor tomorrow. No big deal.”
But of course, it was a big deal. The second test was positive, the two lines unmistakable. Her legs were shaking, tears flowing down her cheeks. Not that Zoe didn’t want children. She did; she loved kids, but this wasn’t exactly how she’d imagined it happening. For one thing, she would have preferred to remember conceiving her first child, and it would have been nice to know who the father was too, her bizarre daydreams notwithstanding.
She felt like she was going crazy—nothing made sense. Not even Midnight Madness ice cream sounded appetizing. With her thoughts overwhelmed by fear and confusion, all she could do was crawl into bed. Huddling in the blankets provided only meager comfort, but then Nahuel curled against her belly, his warm body vibrating with his purrs, and somehow things began to feel a little less dire. Exhaustion fell over her like a heavy cloak, and she was soon asleep.
***
“I am so sorry, my heart. You should not have to bear this alone,” said his voice, nearly as familiar as her own. His arms came around her waist, pulling her back against his chest, his nose resting on the curve of her shoulder. How could she have forgotten him, forgotten this? He kissed her neck, his hands now resting on the small swell of her abdomen. “Forgive me. I should have been there, I should have realized before, but I hope you are not too upset. I know this is not the best of circumstances, but the thought of our child fills me with joy.”
Zoe turned in his arms, looking up into his amber eyes, her arms slipping around his neck. She ran her fingers through his hair, loose waves the color of rust and blood that hung down to his shoulder blades. “No. Not upset, just confused.”
He raised an eyebrow, a roguish grin on his features. “I apologize if you were unaware of the details of reproduction. I had no idea your education was so lacking,” he said. His laughter was a rich chuckle deep in his throat that never failed to make her smile.
“I know how babies are made, you jerk,” she said with a playful scowl, slapping at his chest. He caught her hands in his, and pressed her hand to his mouth. His eyes sparkled as his lips brushed each knuckle, making her temporarily forget what they were talking about. He reeled her back against his chest and kissed her, softly at first. His hand came up to stroke her cheek and then tangled in her chestnut locks as the kiss deepened, becoming fierce and hungry. Her tongue traced along the sensuous line of his mouth, and it opened to her probing. Suddenly his teeth were scraping against her lower lip.
He pulled away to take a breath, his eyes dancing with amusement as well as new-kindled desire. “You do not seem that angry, despite your insults.”
“Hmmm, no, but we were having a conversation. Trying to distract me on purpose?”
“No, not this time,” he replied with a toothy grin. “I can hardly help myself. You are so beautiful, Zoe, and I never feel as if our time together is long enough. What is it you were going to say?”
“It’s just that nothing makes sense anymore. Of course, I would be happy to have your child, Kian. But it’s impossible. This isn’t real. Just my dreams…” she trailed off, knowing that she must be waking up now. Her conscious mind was reasserting itself, and she clung to Kian as she felt the vision fading.
When she woke, she knew she wouldn’t remember any of this, and she hated it, hated herself for forgetting. She knew it was a dream and yet, there was some part of her that believed Kian was real. That he existed somewhere, outside of her thoughts. And if that was the case, not remembering him was the deepest sort of betrayal. He was the love of her life, the true mate of her soul. Maybe the reason she couldn’t remember was that if she did, she’d probably have herself committed.
He could feel it too; he nearly crushed her to his chest with his embrace, and she could hear him swallowing back a knot of some emotion before he spoke. “I know it feels different for you, Zoe. I do not know why you cannot remember but…” His fingers tipped her chin upward, so that she looked right into his eyes. “It is real for me. I love you, and I will come for you.”
***
“Kian…” she mumbled into the darkness of her room, blinking owlishly. It was still the middle of the night, and she couldn’t quite figure out why she was awake and feeling so desperately bereft. She padded to the bathroom in a stupor, and moments later she was back in bed, asleep.
When she awoke next, it was morning. As usual, the edges of a dream pricked at her memory, but the more she tried to grasp at it, the more it slipped away. She’d tried keeping a dream journal… Where is that dratted thing? She reached down to feel around the edges of her bed and hit the jackpot.
It was a small hardback notebook, fan art from her favorite video game on the cover. The pen was still attached and she flicked past the filled pages, only a few. Frustration had made her give up rather quickly. But today, when she uncapped the pen and set it to the paper, words flowed out of it almost like that freaky automatic writing stuff they showed on late-night television.
Riversedge Park, at midnight. The water is shallow before it goes under the left-hand bridge. Cross to the other side and turn left. You will know when you have reached it.
Well, that was interesting. Zoe stared at the words for several moments. She wasn’t in the habit of taking orders from her dreams, but on the other hand, never before had they had something so specific to say. The park was one of her favorite places, and she knew exactly where she was supposed to go. It technically closed at sunset, but she doubted the cops were patrolling there. They just wanted to deter the teenage vandals who kept tagging the railroad trestle.
Wait a second, said the more rational part of her brain. You’re not actually going to go there, are you? The whole idea is insane. Wading the river in the dark is dangerous, being in the park that late is illegal, and also, remember how you might be pregnant?
It was all true. Zoe made herself put down the journal, and attempted to go about her day normally. She took a shower and made herself breakfast. Then she finished the concept sketches she had planned to do the night before and called the client to set up a meeting, but ended up only leaving a voice mail. She knew she ought to call the doctor because either she needed to look into starting her own religion, or she had some kind of weird cancer. But she couldn’t quite make herself dial the number.
I’ll do it tomorrow. I should do some research first anyway. Maybe false positives are more common on those tests than I thought. But her eyes strayed to the journal still lying open on her bed. There was no use trying to deny it: she was going to go to the damn park.
That afternoon she packed a bag. Just a blanket, some snacks and water, her headphones, a change of clothes, and her sketchbook and pencils. She planned to wade across, have a picnic dinner, and hang around until midnight to see what happened. Probably nothing, but she’d know she was losing her mind, and then tomorrow she could make an appointment with a gynecologist and a psychiatrist. That was what logic said. But her heart said that tonight was a turning point, and whatever she found at the park would answer all of her questions.
Just in case, she made sure the cat’s food dish was extra full, and gave Nahuel a kiss before she went out the door.
***
The park was a little crowded since it was a lovely summer afternoon, but no one paid her much notice when she strode past the picnic area and went straight to the river. It was an odd little place, just a strip of green along the water’s edge as the river ran under the bridges and overpasses right in the heart of downtown, but Zoe had always liked it. It felt like a hidden oasis, in a way, though it was hardly a secret, being well known to locals.
The river was quite shallow by the first bridge on the left, just as the dream message had reported, so that where she couldn’t hop rock-to-rock, the water was barely above her ankles. Unsurprisingly, a river running right through s
everal cities wasn’t exactly sparkling clean, but it wasn’t foul either, and it felt refreshingly cool as it rushed over her feet. She could almost imagine it carrying her worries away, and dumping them into Lake Erie. Along with the rest of the crazy garbage, her mind said, sarcastic even to herself.
There was a worn path on the other bank that ran right along the railroad trestle. She followed it for perhaps half a mile before she came to the spot. The river curved away northward, and there was a place, just after another overpass, where a side channel flowed during wetter times of the year, but was now a dry, rocky gully framed by brush and scraggly maple trees.
Up a steep hillside was a shopping center with a grocery store and a movie theater, but this little triangle of land, squashed inconveniently between the river, the road, and a ravine, was left mostly undisturbed by humanity.
It was perfect. Zoe spread out her blanket and unpacked her dinner, snacks from home, plus a rotisserie chicken and bag of cherries she’d picked up on the way. Normally, she would have brought wine too, but even if she couldn’t figure out how she could be pregnant, she’d convinced herself that if she might be, it would be irresponsible to drink.
She ate and watched the sun set over the hill. It was a peaceful place, but she couldn’t help but feel a little nervous as night fell. Hadn’t her parents always told her never to go out after dark alone? She put one earbud in her ear and turned on a cheerful playlist, gripping the heavy flashlight her grandmother had given her when she moved here and occasionally wiping sweaty hands on her shirt. But as an hour passed and then another, and neither wild animals nor deranged hobos attacked her, she began to relax, and eventually, she fell asleep with her back against the tree.
It was hard to say what woke her. Perhaps it was the huge shadow falling across her face, or the rush of wind from the beat of giant wings, or maybe even the soft rumble of breath from enormous lungs and the thud of a familiar heartbeat. She blinked drowsily, her eyes adjusting in the darkness. and then she gasped. She tried to scream, but no sound would come out.
