Dragon Unbroken: A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance (Spellbound Souls Book 2)

by Keira Blackwood

  Wolves weaved between the trees, hidden in shadow. She was planning something—she’d brought several of our warriors. Could she really be breaking a treaty?

  I shifted back to human form. We had to talk.

  “What’s going on, Nevaeh?” I asked, unwilling to believe the plot that unfolded before my eyes.

  “Nothing that concerns you,” she said. “Go back to camp. Please.” Her words were pleading, but her eyes were fierce.

  “Someone told me there was a treaty,” I said, taking another slow step closer. “Is that true?”

  “Of course not,” she said. “You know Stonefang would never agree to peace. They’re vicious killers, every one of them.”

  I could see it all over her—the dilation of her pupils, the racing of her pulse, the beading of sweat on her brow.

  She was lying.

  “Ariana,” she said. “Go back.”

  “You know I can’t. You don’t really believe that everyone in the entire village is a killer, or even a threat, do you? What about the children?” I took a step closer. The scent of our warriors surrounded me, and the glint of wolfish eyes reflected moonlight.

  “You don’t understand,” she said. “They took everything, Ariana. This is it. This is our chance to end this. No handshake can right what’s been done. No promise can ensure that they won’t come again tomorrow, or the next day, or twenty years from now.”

  “Maybe something can be done,” I said. “Call them off, Nevaeh. Call back your warriors. Let’s go back to camp together. Don’t do this. We can talk to Gabriel.”

  “This is what Gabriel wants. He wants this war to end.”

  I approached, with slow, steady footsteps.

  “He knows what’s best, Ariana.”

  “He sent you here?” I asked.

  The look in her eyes was all the answer I needed. Of course he had sent her. She wouldn’t do something like this without his approval. Still, I didn’t understand. How could he think this was right?

  “If you’re not with me, you’re my enemy,” she said.

  With that, her wings tucked in behind her back, leaving her naked human form. She pulled her blade from its sheath. I reached for her wrist to stop her. To stop the madness. We were friends. It didn’t have to be like this.

  Hatred filled her eyes, and determination. She clenched her teeth.

  We struggled for the dagger of silver and black. I twisted her wrist, and she punched my jaw. It happened so fast, and we were on the ground.

  My head hit the root of a tree, and the ground was cold and rough on my bare back. Her forearm pressed down on my throat. I struggled, kicking.

  She looked down at me with anger and sorrow. “I’m sorry, Ariana,” she said. “You should have gone back to camp.”

  She raised the blade up, and the edges of my vision faded to black. I gasped for air.

  She lowered her blade toward my neck, and with the strength I had left, I grabbed the hilt, twisted its direction.

  Her eyes went wide as the blade sank into her chest. I gasped for air as the life faded from my friend’s eyes.

  Next, I would have to shift into my dragon form, and fast, to defend the sleeping village and avoid being attacked by all those Darkland wolves.

  She said I should have gone back to camp. I wished we’d both stayed there, by the warm fire with our mates. I wished none of this had ever happened.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Ariana

  The guys stared at me, expressions of shared sorrow on their faces.

  “It was the beginning of the end,” I continued. “After Nevaeh’s death, Gabriel fell apart. There were no more campfires with chili and speeches. There was no more scheming in the shadows. Everything changed. Gabriel changed. He became obsessed with hurting me. It was his search for revenge that got him killed, but not before he killed Marc.”

  After I told them the story, the men looked at me. My breaths were ragged in my chest, like I’d just run ten miles. Nevaeh’s dying face was etched in my mind.

  Taylor took my hand and tugged me closer. “Breathe, Ari. It’s okay, we’re here with you. Just breathe.”

  I wanted to find my sleeping bag, crawl in, and not come out until the sleeping bag—and I—were safely back in Emerald Pines, Connecticut. The Warzenschwein Mountains were fucking with my head. And the threat of danger—I wasn’t feeling any threats, which in some twisted way made this mission all the riskier.

  Instead, I allowed Taylor to hold me.

  “Is there anything we can do for you?” he asked.

  “I wish I had some of that Hiber-Nation IPA right about now,” I said.

  Quentin cleared his throat. “I don’t have any beer, but”—he patted his pack—“I do have some whiskey.”

  “Gimme,” I said. Anything to make visions of Nevaeh leave my head.

  Quentin opened up his pack and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and a small box. Inside the box were four tumblers.

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Taylor said. “You brought glassware?”

  “That wasn’t in the pack when I double-checked it,” Slade said.

  Quentin shrugged. “I wanted to make sure we had some creature comforts while out in the wilderness.”

  “I don’t care why you brought it,” I said, “as long as you pour me a drink right now.”

  He set the bottle, box, and glasses down. “First, I have to tell you, Ariana. And I want these guys to be here when I say it.”

  I faced him, feeling nervous all of a sudden.

  He cleared his throat, but his beautiful blue eyes didn’t betray any nervousness or hesitation when he said, “I love you, Ari. I always will.”

  “The same goes for me,” Taylor said, “although you already knew that.”

  “And me, too,” Slade said.

  Now I didn’t need the whiskey. Whatever had been on my mind before was gone—because there were three kind, thoughtful dragon shifters standing before me, professing their love. My eyes filled with tears. “I—I have to tell you guys. I feel the same.”

  They each smiled. Taylor’s emerald eyes looked watery like mine. He’d always been the most emotional of the three. Quentin nodded, like he’d suspected my feelings all along. And Slade—Slade gave me a big, happy grin.

  “Well, I’ll drink to that,” Taylor said, gesturing that Quentin should pour.

  Quentin passed around the glasses. His fingers grazed mine as he handed me a cup. The pungent whiskey filled my nostrils. Exactly what I needed—a little alcohol to loosen me up and celebrate the fact that all four of us were on the same page with this bizarre romance.

  I settled in on the log next to Quentin, enjoying the closeness and his peppermint scent.

  As I took a sip of the whiskey, my body flooded with warmth. I glanced around the fire. Smoke, fire. Whiskey. Dragon shifters. It was a beautiful night, with our love surrounding us like the heat from the blazing flames.

  Nevaeh had no place here. And as the feelings of love and belonging chased her away, new feelings were rising up in their place.

  Because I was out here alone in the evening with my partners.

  My three hot-as-sin partners. And I’d seen every single one of them naked.

  They all had sexy whiskers on their faces. I could tell Quentin had spent more time trimming his, but all three looked rugged and outdoorsy. I wanted to feel those whiskers against my skin, marking me as their mouths moved over my breasts and neck and legs.

  As threads of lust coursed through my body, Quentin, the closest, was the first to notice. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and leaned in to take a deep inhale next to my neck. His exhale sent the fine hairs on my skin to tickling me, and I squirmed. Pressure was building between my legs, a pressure that my squirming only exacerbated.

  “You smell so fucking good,” Quentin murmured.

  Taylor came over to the log to sit on the other side of me. I swallowed the last of my whiskey, but I didn’t know what to do with the cup.

&n
bsp; Slade said, “I’ll take that for you,” and he came over to kneel in front of me. He tossed the glass into the brush beyond our tents.

  I knew Quentin was distracted when he didn’t even complain about the lost glass. Instead, he was using one finger to trace a line along my collarbone, dipping beneath the fabric of my black t-shirt.

  Taylor kissed my neck, just below my ear, and made a faint growling noise of satisfaction. His whiskers scratched me gently. When he darted his tongue out to lick my skin, I gasped.

  They were pleasuring me, but I wanted them to feel good, too. Slade was still kneeling right in front of me, so I leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were warm, and he tasted like the whiskey I’d just finished—smoky, hot. His tongue moved against mine in a sensual way that reminded me of when I’d taken his cock in my mouth. Quentin and Taylor followed me, their hands on my skin, Taylor’s mouth on my neck. Both of them touching me while I kissed Slade felt incredible, like I’d finally found the answer to a question I hadn’t even known I was asking.

  Quentin moved his hand down to one of my breasts and squeezed it gently. I moaned into Slade’s mouth to let him know I approved.

  With each hand, I reached for Taylor’s and Quentin’s zippers. It was impossible to yank them down at the same time, but they seemed eager enough to help me out, and soon I was stroking each of them—Taylor through his boxer briefs, and Quentin through his silk boxers.

  Out here, in the wilderness with my men, I felt like we’d finally found ourselves and the relationship we could have—out of sight from anyone else’s judgment or expectations.

  Out here in the wilderness.

  I pulled away from Slade’s expert kisses with a gasp. We were out here on a mission. This was far from safe. Shit.

  It was getting harder to control myself around them. Just days ago, at Hans Berger’s house, I’d nearly taken both Slade and Quentin on a stranger’s couch. And before that, Taylor and Quentin had been on either side of me in my office, my skirt bunched around my waist when Maisie walked in.

  “You okay?” Taylor murmured against my neck.

  “No,” I said, allowing my disappointment to coat my voice as I let go of both him and Quentin.

  “What’s wrong?” Quentin tucked his cock back in his pants and adjusted his zipper.

  “It’s...it’s a bad time,” I said. “Victor could be out there right now, close by. We need to keep our guard up.”

  Inwardly, I winced. This wasn’t just about Victor and they knew as well as I did that if there was a dragon anywhere nearby, we would’ve sensed him by now. I’d gotten skittish at the idea of taking three guys at once, but instead of being honest about my feelings, I was blaming it on stupid fucking Victor.

  But these beautiful men weren’t going to call me out on it. They were going to pretend like they believed my excuse, just so I could save face.

  Angry at myself, I said, “Excuse me. I need to take a walk.”

  “Ari?” Quentin called.

  I waved behind me, blinking back tears of frustration. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  I strode away as fast as I could with all the foliage. I should have brought a machete or something to fight my way through the underbrush. With every step, my thighs rubbed together, and I felt that friction as a jolt of pleasure.

  Frustrated. I was sexually frustrated. I should have taken them all, right there. I should have shed my doubts like snake skin and given my inner dragon what she wanted.

  Footsteps sounded behind me. Whoever it was, they weren’t trying to hide their approach. I smelled dragon and metal—Slade—so I stopped and waited for him to catch up.

  “You all right?” he asked.

  “Yeah. This is just very new territory for me.”

  “I guess you don’t mean these mountains when you say ‘territory,’” he said.

  “No.” I smiled at him in the darkness and watched the shadows of moonlight play over his features. So handsome, this man. “Feeling so strongly, falling in love...I never thought I’d feel this way again, about anyone. And to feel it for three men instead of one, well, it kinda blows my mind, you know?”

  “That makes sense,” he said. “You know, none of us hold that against you.”

  “I know. I just—I should be able to do this. I’m mad at myself that I’m not ready, because I want to be, and Slade, I am so fucking turned on right now.”

  He pressed against me, and his thick cock was hard against my stomach. “You’re not the only one,” he said.

  “No, I guess not.” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I got everything started, and then—”

  “Ari.”

  The nickname sounded perfect in his deep, gravelly voice. As weak-kneed as I already was from desire, it nearly toppled me.

  “You’ve got nothing to feel bad about.”

  “You’re right. A woman shouldn’t ever have to apologize for saying she wants to stop. And I’m not apologizing for that. It’s just, I feel like I’m holding myself back, and I miss Marc but I should maybe miss him more. And did I mention I’m still turned on?”

  “Let me take care of you,” he whispered, taking my hand.

  A part of me wanted to run away, escape the demons. Another part of me wanted to face them, head-on, with Slade at my side. Taylor and Quentin, too. The love we’d professed back at camp—I felt it four-fold, from each of our hearts. It didn’t make sense and maybe we’d never understand it, but I had the feeling that all four of us would happily spend the rest of our lives puzzling over it and enjoying it.

  Feeling full of that love, and none of the nervousness I’d felt earlier, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to Slade’s.

  He groaned, parting his lips to reach out and touch mine with his tongue. I allowed him in, tasting him, wanting more. The arousal I’d felt with all three of them earlier hadn’t diminished at all. Maybe I wasn’t ready for a foursome, but I was sure as hell ready for Slade. I grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer. He backed me against a tree trunk, and the rough bark bit at my skin. I loved it. I wanted to feel everything—pain and pleasure. I wanted to feel alive, and I wanted to feel alive with Slade.

  His calloused fingertips spread heat everywhere they touched me. He reached for the edge of my shirt, his eyes questioning.

  “Yes,” I said, helping him lift it over my head. I grabbed the edge of his shirt next. I needed to see him again, open for me like he’d been on the rooftop last week. Hard for me. Aching for me.

  I needed to feel the thick heat of him, so I fumbled with the buttons on his camo pants until I could force my hand inside. My palm met the velvety feel of skin stretched over his cock.

  He groaned and pressed himself into my touch. “Ari,” he whispered. “Can I ask for one thing?”

  “Anything,” I whispered. I’d let him do anything to me. And I’d do anything for him.

  “Let me taste you.”

  I blinked up at him, surprised. I’d expected him to ask for head, or to want to do something for our mutual pleasure. But instead—he wanted to taste me. His eyes were wide, the pupils large in the darkness of the forest at night. We were out of reach of the fire’s light, although I could hear the quiet, low tones of Taylor and Quentin talking by the fire.

  I wondered if they were listening now to what I was doing with Slade. If we hadn’t come as far as we had in the past few weeks, I might have worried that they were jealous. But the incredible thing was, I’d never gotten that vibe from any of them unless it involved someone else—someone who wasn’t Taylor or Quentin or Slade.

  Slade dropped to his knees in front of me, and gently pressed me against the tree. He slid his hands over my thighs, down past my knees and to my ankles, then all the way back up again where he fiddled with the button on my khakis.

  “Can I?” he asked.

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  He unfastened the button and pulled down the zipper, then slid my pants and panties down to my ankles. His hands were warm on my legs as he
lifted first one, then the other, so I could step the rest of the way out of my clothes. Then he placed a sweet, soft kiss against my mound.

  I tightened my hands on his head. His buzz cut made it too hard for me to grip any hair, so I held him as gently as I could.

  He pressed another kiss to me, and this time his tongue swept along my folds when he did it.

  “Slade,” I said on an exhale.

  “I knew you would taste good,” he rumbled. “How’s that tree behind you?”

  “Fine,” I said.

  “Not hurting you?”

  “Not bad.” I kind of liked it, actually.

  “Okay.” He grabbed one of my knees and brought it over his shoulder, and then he did the same with the other, so my weight was between his shoulders and the tree trunk.

  And then he feasted on me, his tongue exploring my center, then flicking up to my clit, the pressure building inside of me in sparks of pleasure and whirls of lust. When he pressed two fingers inside me, they fit easily into my slickness. I could have come right then, but I shook my head. “Wait,” I said.

  He stopped immediately and looked up, his eyes blazing. “What is it?”

  “I want you—all of you,” I panted. “I want you inside me.”

  Frowning a little, he said, “I wanted it to be more romantic for you, our first time like that.”

  “This is romantic,” I said. “You and me, the dark woods, our love for each other. Nothing is more romantic to me than what’s happening right now between us.”

  He helped unhook my legs from his shoulders so I could stand, and he skimmed his palms up my calves and thighs as he also stood, kissing his way up my belly until he cupped one of my breasts in his palm and kissed the nipple.

  Desire flooded me, and I yanked him closer, wanting to rub myself against the roughness of his pants. No, his cock. His bare cock would feel better than anything right now, and satisfy the ache building within me. I pressed my hands against his expansive chest.