Singed: A Reverse Harem Dragon Shifter Romance (The Orestaia Series Book 2)

by Misty Malloy

  Pep up, girl! urged my dragoness. You got this. This isn’t the end of the world.

  Ugh! I told her as I stepped into the steamy spray of water. I didn’t feel like being patient. I wasn’t here to enjoy the fabulous red rocks and blue skies of Sedona—I was here on a mission.

  Besides, added my dragoness, now you have two dragons with baby-making prowess. That’s good, right?

  A little sizzle of excitement immediately shot through me. Trey’s announcement this morning hadn’t made Drake very happy. For me, on the other hand—oh, mama! It gave me the fuzzy tingles, in the most fabulous way.

  Two of my dragons! Both with fertility-stone-powered sperm. My baby brain was about to blow a freaking gasket.

  The entire idea perked up my spirits a bit, dragging me out of the dumps from my failed quest this morning. I wondered how long it would take me to conceive. Dragons were extremely fertile in general—I’d only been off birth control for one day, but dragon magick was potent stuff. The power of the fertility stone was no joke. It could be right away, I had no doubt.

  I shampooed my hair, thoughts of sweet little baby feet and baby smiles flickering through my mind, when Ethan’s tall form appeared in the bathroom doorway.

  “Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. His gaze took in my naked body, and a lick of lust ignited in his gray eyes. I could tell he wanted to join me in the shower, but he remained where he stood, hesitation in his stance. “I want to show you something I think you’ll like. Can you meet me in the great room when you’re done?”

  “Sure,” I answered, rinsing out my hair, momentarily closing my eyes to prevent getting blinded by the shampoo. When I opened them again, Ethan was gone.

  I got out of the shower and quickly dried off. After I’d tossed on a clean T-shirt and pair of jeans, I headed out to the great room. There I found Ethan lounging in a chair, and Trey sitting at the kitchen counter, immersed in something on his laptop. Through the windows, I could see out onto the patio where Jackson and Drake were prepping the grill. Drake’s loud laugh reverberated through the glass.

  Ethan smiled at me. “Come on. Follow me.” He grabbed my hand and led me down a long hallway I hadn’t yet explored to a set of arched double doors. Ethan flicked on the lights to reveal a room with paintings and tall, glass curio cabinets filled with artifacts.

  Holy smokes. The Knight family certainly enjoyed their treasure. Nothing at all like the basement catacombs where Ethan kept his extensive hoard of dragon goodies, but still…

  Fancy.

  “The gallery,” explained Ethan, as I gazed about the space. “My parents like to keep art at each of their vacation homes. They hardly ever come here, though—and if they do, it’s just my mom and one dad, while my other father stays behind. He’s very set in his ways and doesn’t like to travel.”

  I resisted the urge to laugh—now I knew where Ethan had acquired his stubbornness.

  “Where do they live normally?” I asked, walking over to a large painting of blue Skywing dragons lounging along a riverbank, with one of the dragons taking a dip in the water.

  “In London. Where I was born, one hundred and thirty years ago.”

  Whoa. It still surprised me how much older my dragons were than my mere twenty-eight years, even though none of them looked a day older than me. “You’re ancient,” I teased, winking at him.

  I made my way over to another painting, this one of red Crimson Forge dragons, flying high above a battlefield. “These paintings are great,” I told Ethan. Something about the style was familiar…

  Oh! The murals at Ethan’s house! I thought of the ceiling mural in my guest bedroom, with dragons of all clans flying above a lush mountain peak.

  Ethan must have understood the look of excitement on my face, because he nodded and grinned. “Yes. These are all painted by Bastian of Muir, my favorite dragon artist. I commissioned him to paint the murals in my Prague home. He’s an ancient dragon now, approaching nine hundred, but he still does beautiful work. That’s why I brought you here, to the gallery…I thought you might like them.”

  “Yeah, I do. Thank you.” I gave Ethan a quick smooch on the cheek before heading over to check out a painting of three Blackfire dragons, and right next to it, a painting of a green Healer administering some sort of salve to a Seeker’s wing. “It’s been an exhausting day.”

  “I can only imagine. Especially with Drake and Trey fighting over you.” Ethan raised his eyebrows a notch and his sexy lips curled into a smile. “You do realize they’re waiting for you to choose one of them for tonight?”

  Oh. I glanced up at Ethan in surprise. No, I hadn’t realized that at all. I laughed. “Okay, so that’s why you didn’t want to jump me in the shower.”

  “I’m not getting involved in this.”

  I playfully grabbed his crotch and squeezed gently. “Even if I do this?”

  He groaned and a pained look crossed his face. A bulge immediately emerged under his jeans. “Er…have you seen this one?” His voice came out strained and he quickly strode across the room. “It’s my favorite.”

  I resisted the urge to burst out in laughter again—Ethan was doing his very best to retain his self-control. I followed him to the other side of the room and peered at the painting. Red, silver, black, green, and blue dragons—along with a golden dragon—all sat around the orestaia. The fertility stone shimmered with vibrancy and life.

  “It’s nice. Although golden dragons don’t exist and the stone doesn’t shimmer like that anymore,” I joked, trying to make light of the situation while my heart sank at the thought of the fertility stone’s current state. Dead and cold and inactive.

  Ethan looked at me for a long moment, a serious expression on his face. He gently lifted my chin with his finger. “You’ll find the Oracle, I promise. And we’re behind you all the way.”

  Ooh! Behind you…you always like that, my dragoness chortled.

  I ignored her as he kissed me, a quick brush of the lips, and then pulled me in close to him. I placed my head against the hard muscles of his chest and listened to the steady beat of his heart.

  Oh yeah. This felt fantastic.

  Ethan could be stubborn and unyielding, but he was also my rock. I felt safer in his arms than I did anywhere else. I knew I could relinquish all worries, and that he would take care of things.

  I lingered in his strong, comforting hug, when suddenly a vibration thrummed into my hip.

  “I don’t really want you to move right now, because this feels freaking good,” I told him, rubbing my pelvis against his jeans pocket, “but maybe you should answer your phone.”

  Ethan raised an eyebrow as I untangled myself from his embrace. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, and then eyed the caller ID.

  “This can wait.”

  “It’s fine,” I said. “You should take it. I’ll just explore a bit.”

  Ethan paused again while the phone continued to ring. A muscle in his neck twitched. His lips pressed into a tight line. “Okay,” he said finally, and tapped the phone. “What?” he said, somewhat curtly.

  I’ll just be a minute, he mouthed to me, then turned to walk toward the far window in the room.

  Geez. Ethan hadn’t seemed happy about the call. Who was it?

  I peered inside the closest curio cabinet, filled with blue vases and bowls, and tried my hardest not to eavesdrop on the conversation.

  Dammit. I couldn’t. But Ethan’s deep voice was low and he stood all the way across the room. I could barely make out his words.

  “No. Not yet,” I heard him say.

  I continued over to the next cabinet, moving closer into Ethan’s vicinity. This one held various styles of ancient wine goblets, and even if I’d found wine goblets absolutely riveting, I was way more interested in what Ethan had to say.

  I strained my ears. More mumbled conversation. “Of course, I understand,” he suddenly said loudly, tension cutting through the air like a knife. A pause. “Don’t you think I’m doing t
he best I can?”

  Really—who was he talking to?

  Moving even closer, I didn’t even bother to pay attention to the objects in the next display case. I rubbed my lips together. I knew this was Ethan’s private conversation, but still— curiosity was a bitch.

  Normally calm and collected, I hardly ever heard Ethan raise his voice. Whoever was on the other line had really yanked his goat.

  “Look, I need to go,” Ethan said brusquely. Then the sound of his heavy footsteps tromping across the hardwood floor echoed through the room.

  I immediately pretended to be very interested in the case before me.

  Holy smokes!

  My gaze flicked across the strange artifacts, and I almost did a double take. I stared in awe at the neatly arranged rows of phallic objects, all in different sizes and colors.

  Ethan came up behind me and placed his hands firmly on my hips. “I see you found the medieval pleasure instruments.”

  Medieval…pleasure instruments?

  “A collection passed down from my great-great-aunt Zara,” he added. “Her employer, Lady Duvessa, gifted all of these to her.”

  I nodded, fascinated by the sheer diversity of the toys. A giant bronze one caught my eye, and it reminded me very much of Drake’s own equipment. The other ones were smaller, including a beautiful ivory phallus, and one etched out of wood.

  “So, who were you talking to?” I asked lightly, trying not to admit my guilty eavesdropping. I was still fascinated by the phalluses, but also dying to find out about this phone conversation.

  “Just some…business back home.” Ethan pulled me closer to him and wrapped his strong arms around my waist. “Nothing to worry about.”

  “You seemed kind of upset.”

  “No. Not at all.”

  Clearly an understatement, because although I couldn’t see his face, I could feel the tension zipping through him like a racehorse on a caffeine drip.

  “But—” I started to protest, until he whipped me around and planted a kiss upon my lips. “Mmph!” I tried again, but his mouth was demanding. Relentless. For a moment our tongues dueled, battling for control.

  Ethan finally pulled away, his gray eyes smoldering. “Do you trust me?”

  I nodded. Of course I did. More so than I ever thought I would. But I’d asked him a direct question, and he clearly hadn’t wanted to give me a direct answer.

  “Can you please believe me when I say everything is fine?” He paused, his gaze intent upon my face. “Everything is under control.”

  I held his gaze, not wanting to back down. My first instinct was to fight this out with him, to demand he tell me all the details. But instead…

  I didn’t. I let out a huge whoosh of air.

  Calm down, Lyssa. Just let this be. For now, at least.

  “Do you promise you would tell me if it was important?” I asked quietly.

  He nodded. “Of course I would. You have a lot on your plate right now. You don’t need to worry about extraneous things.”

  I allowed my shoulders to relax, just a little bit. I trusted Ethan—truly I did—and being dead tired to my bones didn’t help the situation. If he said things were fine, then okay.

  I’d believe him. That didn’t mean I didn’t want to know about the person on the other line, but I’d have to find out another way. Pushing him now wouldn’t do a smidge of good.

  I gazed up into the hard, sexy planes of his face. “So…medieval dildos, huh?” I asked, grinning.

  The tension between us immediately lowered a notch, and a smile crept upon his lips. “Yes. Quite an extensive collection.”

  I grimaced. “They look…uncomfortable.”

  Ethan laughed, a low deep laugh that rumbled in his chest. “I think we’re better off ordering some modern-day ones for you, if you want.”

  Hot damn. Four fabulous dragon cocks were plenty. Did I need any more pleasure instruments?

  On the other hand, toys could be fun…

  “We can talk more about the toys later,” he said, slipping his hand inside mine once again. “Let’s go help make dinner.”

  * * *

  I sliced tomatoes into rounds while Trey stood next to me and chopped onions. He sniffled loudly. Glancing at him, I noticed that tears ran down his calm and composed face.

  “Hey, you okay over there?” I teased. “Do you need a hug?”

  A hint of a smile curled upon his lips. “Fucking onions.”

  I laughed as he set down his knife, taking a moment to wipe the tears from his eyes, knowing full well this was most likely the only time I’d ever see Trey cry.

  The onions had gotten the best of this huge, Viking-like guy—who would have guessed?

  “Okay, the coleslaw’s ready,” said Jackson, plonking a gigantic bowl on the kitchen counter. “What else do we need?”

  “I think we’re good,” said Ethan from the other side of the kitchen, where he rinsed lettuce in the sink. He had lined a plate with paper towels, and after he rinsed each piece, he carefully placed it on top, layering with even more paper towels.

  “You know, you could just use the salad spinner to dry the lettuce,” pointed out Jackson. “I’m sure that would be a lot faster.”

  I stifled a snort as Ethan shot Jackson a look across the room. “No. I think this way is just fine,” he said, continuing to use his method.

  Jackson shrugged, clearly unfazed. “Okay, cool,” he said, taking out the ketchup and mustard from the fridge and setting them on the counter.

  I grabbed a plate from the cupboard and took it back to my work area, then arranged the tomato slices on top of it. Trey tilted his cutting board and let the onions slide on top of the tomato platter. He flashed me a quick smile.

  Ooh. Trey’s smiles were rare, but utterly scrumptious.

  I smiled back at him while I wandered around to the other side of the counter to set the platter down next to the other food. Ethan showed up a moment later with a plate of perfectly burger-sized lettuce pieces—without the paper towels, thank fuck—and some toasted buns.

  As if on cue, Drake opened the patio door, a giant plateful of burger patties in one hand, and grilled corn on the cob in the other. The delicious smell of meat—just a bit raw, the way I loved it—wafted into the room.

  “I’ve made the meat the way you like it, amore!” he said to me, a dazzling white grin on his handsome face.

  “Thank you,” I said, winking, taking the corn from him. I admired his apron—Kiss the Cook stood out in bold, red print, with an arrow that pointed down toward his crotch.

  My gaze traveled to the suggested spot.

  The gesture wasn’t lost on Drake. “Tonight?” he asked. “Just me and you? Nothing would please me more than to put a little dragon baby in that belly of yours.”

  His grin turned hot and mischievous, and a jolt of desire zipped down my spine to settle between my legs.

  Drake never spoke quietly, so of course everyone in the room heard his comment. I suddenly felt the gaze of the three other dragons upon me, waiting for my answer.

  “Oh! Um…” I said, glancing at the others. Trey watched me silently from the kitchen, his face completely unreadable.

  Oh, crap.

  “You know,” I added quickly, “I’m absolutely starving. How about we eat? Maybe outside, since it’s so nice?”

  I put the corn on the counter, and then went about grabbing plates and silverware from the cupboards, thankful to have something to do. Soon we had filled our plates and were sitting outside at the large patio table.

  For a few minutes, everyone was quiet while we chomped through our burgers and the guys chugged their beers.

  After we’d all finished our second round of food and the guys were on their third (my dragons ate a whole hell of a lot), I leaned back to gaze up into the sky. The stars twinkled slightly and the shadows shifted on the red rocks as the sun set on the horizon.

  “A nice night for a flight,” Jackson said, pushing his plate away. “Anyone want
to join me?”

  “Sounds good,” said Ethan. “I’m up for it.”

  I wanted to say yes, but also needed to try to get ahold of my sister to see how she was doing. “I want to call Amelie first—but maybe later?” Or would later involve spending the evening with Trey? Or Drake?

  Both were silent, but in the red dragon’s case, it was mostly because he was busy devouring butter-slathered corn on the cob.

  “I’d love for you to spend the night with me,” Trey said finally, reaching for my hand under the table. “Do you want to?”

  His thumb stroked gently across my palm. I knew how challenging this was for him, to allow his vulnerability to show through, not just to me, but to the others as well.

  Drake lowered his corn slowly to his plate. His eyes shot daggers at Trey. “I have already asked her, in case you have forgotten.”

  Oh, goddess! What had I gotten myself into?

  “What if we all spent the night together?” I suggested in desperation. How could I choose? I would end up hurting someone’s feelings.

  “This is a special time for you, amore,” said Drake. “I think you will need to choose who you’d like the father of your first child to be. It is important to you, isn’t it?”

  Well, yeah. Wasn’t it? I’d spent my whole life not knowing my dad’s identity.

  My kids would want to know, too…wouldn’t they?

  “Please, just pick,” said Trey, his voice strained.

  My heart thumped in my chest. I didn’t know if I could. My gaze flicked first to Trey, and then to Drake, wondering what in the hell I was supposed to do.

  I couldn’t. I just couldn’t choose.

  Drake watched me thoughtfully. “Or…we could have a challenge. You and I, Trey.”

  “I’m in,” said Trey. “Under one condition: that I select the challenge.”

  “Of course.” Drake nodded. “I accept.”

  I buried my face in my hands. “Arghhh!” I said in exasperation. What had I done? I hadn’t wanted them to fight for me.

  I didn’t want to be part of this. No. Not one bit. I stood from the table and grabbed a few dishes to take back to the kitchen. “I’ll be inside if you’re looking for me. Enjoy your machofest. But please…please! Don’t kick the shit out of each other. Too badly, at least.”