by T. S. Ryder
Copyright © 2017 by Heartbeat Reads - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Pregnant by the Dragon King
A Paranormal Romance
By: T.S. Ryder
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Epilogue
Specially Selected Bonus Content
The Billionaire Dragon's Mate
The Shifter's Secret Baby
The Dragon Shifter's Twins
The Shifter's Hostage
Claimed by Two Werebears
The Shifting Billionaire's Baby
The Vampire Prince's Bride
The Gorilla Shifter's Captive
Mated to the Dragon King
Night of the New Moon
About T.S. Ryder
Selected Other Books by T.S. Ryder
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Prologue
Once, the land of Grizlenzadi was ruled from the heavens by the Dragon King and Queen. Caichmiorral and Morrigana watched over the three races of the land—the elves, the dragons and the humans. All was well. And so it remained, until one day, a human witch, a girl named Danasi, was born. Days after her birth, she was abandoned for her abnormal magical abilities. Feeling compassion for the child, Caichmiorral raised her with the dragon hatchlings, but as the girl grew older, she developed lustful feelings for him. When Caichmiorral refused her advances to become his mate, she ran from home, devastated and furious. Heavily laden with uncontrollable magic, Danasi nearly wiped out the faire folk and elves in one fateful night. Furious, King Caichmiorral demanded the witch leave his land and she did.
For a time, all returned to peace, until the scorned witch returned with a foreign army of enslaved undead and declared war on the dragon race. Caichmiorral accepted the war threat with a heavy heart. Ultimately, after the witch poisoned and killed his egg carrying mate, the war efforts faltered and the witch Danasi imprisoned all the dragons in the very earth itself. Danasi cursed him into his human form, adding to the pain in his heart with his freshly dead mate, she made the decree that the only way to lift it was to lay eggs with a new mate. Unfortunately, with all the dragons gone, Caichmiorral disappeared from the world, doomed to remain human for the rest of eternity.
Almost two hundred years later, the dragons still remain locked in their earthen prisons. The Dragon King is nowhere to be found and Danasi still holds onto the throne, ruling unjustly over all of Grizlenzadi.
Yet, there is hope. Caichmiorral has caught wind of a legendary jouster, known only as the Black Knight. He believes this man might just be his answer to breaking his curse, regaining his throne and destroying the witch Danasi once and for all. Death of the Witch Queen is the only other way to defeat her.
Chapter One
A hooded figure stood in a small crowd of peasants, enthralled by the upcoming joust. He looked out of place, dressed in deep purple robes embroidered with gold and clasped around the throat with a blood red gemstone. Nobility, after all, sat in the wooden stands to observe the tournament games.
Karina assumed this person was planted only to draw her curiosity. She was the Black Knight. So undefeated was she, that distractions and attempts at fixed wins against her favor were commonplace. As she stared through the slits in her obsidian colored helmet, she pondered if this stranger would try to stand in her way. Her attention was wrenched from thoughts of the stranger, to her horse, a charger black as ebony and muscled thickly, that pranced restlessly beneath her.
“Peace, Tarron. We’ll ride once the trumpeters give their call. Once more, my old friend, we are to wait for the Duke to give his speech,” she soothed, patting the charger’s thick neck with gauntleted fingers. As she spoke, the Duke of Rostlecastor approached the stands, dressed in gaudy robes of silver and red, a circlet resting just over his bushy brow.
“M’Lords! M’Dams!”
His voice carried with the wind to where even Karina could hear him, even from where she sat on top of her steed at the other end of the tourney field. Her rival this day, a man she’d yet to ride against, trotted into view behind the Duke and took his place at the opposite end of the tourney field. Already she could tell it’d be an easy set of passes. The man opposite her, even armored, was smaller than she was.
“We shall charge with victory this day, Tarron. What say you?” she asked softly, to which the massive charger shook his great head and snorted his impatience.
“This tourney is in celebration of the birth of my wee lass, Rosalyn and to give a date to my daughter, Allyson with her coming of age!” the Duke proclaimed, to which both peasantry and nobility alike cheered, save one. Karina’s eyes were drawn to where the hooded stranger stood, unresponsive. A flash of gold shone from beneath his hood and she could almost feel his eyes staring straight through her. A chill gripped her as though snowmelt ran down her spine and she tore her eyes from him with a grimace.
“The victor of this jousting tournament will have the privilege of my dear Allyson’s hand in marriage,” the Duke announced.
As the Duke spoke, his daughter rose from her seat, eyes puffy and red with spent emotion. How could someone who claimed themselves as a father force their child into something so cruel? The very thought brought Karina’s blood to a boil and left her hand clenching against the lance at her side.
“I shall free you, lass, lest my rival’s lance pierce my breast,” she vowed in a whisper.
Of course, she had known little of family for some time now. She’d never known her father and her mother had never borne another child. The closest thing she’d had to a family after her mother had passed was the captain of the guard in a southern Grizlenzadian province and the stable owner of Rostlecastor, Flannigan.
“Many knights of the province of Rostlecastor have participated in this so grand of tourneys and now, we have come down to two final suitors. Sir IsekFlanory from the northern reaches of Grizlenzadi.”
A cheer erupted from the crowd as the fan favorite urged his horse into a canter down the tourney field and back around. Everything from his armored form to the molted mare he sat upon was smaller than Karina and her charger, to the point it was almost amusing.
“And, the nomadic renegade, known only as the Black Knight.”
Not a cheer was to be heard as Karina squeezed her knees together, wordlessly urging Tarron into a charging, powerful sprint. Indignant sounds met her ears and a few stones were hurled towards her, though none so much as glanced across her armor. She was used to such poor receptions as this, simply because she was unorthodox in the way she accepted winnings. The Black Knight was notorious for letting free a hand, rightfully won, for marriage and giving lands to serfs of the various provinces she’d jousted in.
Yet, she found her eyes drawn towards the riled crowd as she pulled Tarron to a halt. They’d once more reached their end of the field, and her eyes drifted towards the peasantry. Her green irises stayed locked onto the form pressed close to the fiel
d. The hooded figure stared at her with an intensity and rapture she’d never seen before.
The Duke had taken to his seat as Karina brooded over the stranger. Why did he stare? She shook her head impatiently. What did it matter? The same chill rolled down her spine as her soul all but split wide open under the golden gaze she was met with. It took all her willpower to look away again. The trumpeters had stood with their horns at their lips and should she continue her stare, she’d miss the fanfare signaling her charge.
Everything faded in the background, from the crowd to the stranger in the purple robes. There was a job at hand, a lady to set free. No distractions, merely Sir Isek, his mare, Tarron and her lance. Then, the trumpeters sounded the horns, signaling both Karina and Sir Isek to prepare to charge.
With a four-note fanfare, she kicked Tarron into a canter, her lance pointing high to the sky. It took mere seconds in real time, but to her, the entire world slowed. She seemed able to focus on every aspect of Sir Isek’s charge from the way his horse stumbled a step and a half before actually cantering forward, to the way he sat with his lance holding arm. His hold was too wide and his posture leaned too far to the right. It rendered his left shoulder almost fully exposed. That was her target.
She grinned as she leveled off her lance and struck the rival rider in the shoulder. The man was thrown backward from his saddle and onto the dusty ground while her lance splintered from the blow. Together with Tarron, they reached the other end of the tourney field and turned around to check on Sir Isek, who’d yet to move from where he lay sprawled on the ground. His horse, the skittish thing that it was, had raced away and was nowhere to be seen.
Angry shouts greeted her as Karina dismounted and walked over to her fallen rival. How hard had he fallen that he was still so dazed?
“You killed him!” a particularly hysterical woman shouted from the stands, but as Karina nudged Sir Isek with her armored boot, he gave a plaintive moan, but slowly sat up.
“I shall not ride again,” he croaked, shaking his head as he got up on unsteady legs.
Karina stared at him, surprised such a prestigious jouster would relinquish the tourney victory to her after a single pass. The trumpeters’ music once more filled the air as Sir Isek made a show of shaking his head, solidifying his forfeit.
The Duke didn’t look pleased in the slightest and his daughter Allyson looked even less so, as she had once more burst into tears. Yet, Karina made a show of approaching her despite her distress and the Duke’s obvious irritation. Slowly, she knelt on one knee. “M’Lady Allyson,” she began, forcing her voice deeper until it barely passed as masculine. “I have no desire to strip your honor from you by forcing you into wedlock. I grant you, as my prize, the freedom to do as your heart desires and not be trapped as a coveted possession.”
Briefly, Allyson’s tearful eyes stared straight through her helmet and locked her gaze on Karina’s own. A look of awed wonder crossed her features, but quickly her gaze broke as she offered Karina a deep bow.
“Sir Knight. You honor me with your chivalry,” she whispered as she stood once more. Dabbing at her eyes with an embroidered kerchief, she blew Karina a kiss before turning around to speak with her father.
It was only once Karina’s attention was freed that she felt the eyes of the stranger boring into her from behind.
Chapter Two
“I require your assistance, Sir Knight,” he spoke, hood covering all but his eyes. The strange, golden color of his irises was captivating and Karina felt as though the stranger could see straight to her very soul as he looked at her. Shivering, she turned away from him and snagged onto Tarron’s reins, refusing to speak.
Just because she was captivated and intrigued by the mysteries this stranger presented, didn’t mean she was willing to blow her cover as the Black Knight.
“Please.”
Apparently, the stranger wasn’t to be deterred so easily. She could hear his boots crunch as they fell against the dirt of the path as he followed behind her.
“I need your help. I speak truthfully. If I thought I could handle my own troubles, I wouldn’t be stooping to such levels as to beg,” the man said, still following Karina all the way out of the village and into the forest where her small, stone home sat, nestled among the trees.
He spoke strangely, as though his words were but riddles for her to unravel. She looked back over her shoulder at him, briefly, but as soon as she realized her actions, she jerked her gaze back forward with a soft spoken curse. Frustrated, Karina tied Tarron to the tree she used as a hitching post and she raised her armor’s helmet until her eyes were visible to the stranger.
“There are other jousters more suited,” she growled in as low and manly a voice she could muster. “If it is sport and tourney you want, consider me disinclined to participate.”
“You misunderstand,” the stranger said, his tone desperate as he lowered his hood. Long blonde hair, the longest Karina had ever seen, was tied in a bun on the back of the man’s head and a dangerous, proud air surrounded him. His golden eyes pulled her in, until she felt him searching her soul once more. Magic clung to this man and she couldn’t help but allow herself to be pulled into his eyes. Perhaps she could listen to him plead his case and see what it was he wanted.
“A man such as yourself, with the battle prowess to end a joust in one pass, must be something in the eye of true battle. The favor I ask is not to be taken lightly, but the payoff will be lavish and grand until you are decorated and free to live a life of leisure. Once you and I succeed, you will live more grandly than the Queen herself.”
This caught Karina’s attention. Rich living? Lavish clothing? Money to actually enjoy life? It all sounded so good. It sounded too good to ignore, assuming this strange, beautiful man spoke truth. Perhaps he was one of the few gifted with elven blood? Karina wondered.
“What is your favor?” she asked, sounding skeptical. “And, so as not to bind you with lies,” she began, tearing her helmet from her head to reveal her strong, but painfully feminine jaw. Copper curled hair fell down her back in a waterfall of ringlets. Her eyes were a bright, leaf green and they pierced him where he stood. “I am no man.”
The stranger, if he was startled by her femininity, showed little surprise, and merely nodded at the reveal. Clearly, he was an outlander, one where femininity was seen in equal light as its masculine counterpart. The only thing that seemed to change was the sudden spark of interest that colored his golden gaze.
“Might you invite me in?” he asked, looking suddenly weary now that Karina had agreed to hear him. “I have traveled long and far to find a champion with such gift as you, Lady Knight.”
For a moment, Karina thought to reject him. She didn’t enjoy the thought of a stranger in her home. Yet, the man’s golden eyes were hard to refuse, especially when he seemed so genuine.
“I invite you, stranger,” she agreed slowly, moving to open the thick, wooden door to her home and ushering the stranger inside. “But know, should you try anything, I am not only trained in the arts of the lance, but the sword as well,” she threatened lightly with a wave of her hand as she gestured to the sheathed weapon that lay against the table. She’d keep within reach of it at all times, just to be sure she could guard against the man should she need to.
To her surprise, the golden-eyed man merely chuckled as he followed her in and gratefully sunk into a wooden chair at the table. He truly looked weary and exhausted, as though he’d been traveling on foot for a long time. A warm meal was in order for this man, whether she agreed to assist him with whatever this favor turned out to be.
“Fear not, Lady Knight. I have no desire to harm you.”
Karina didn’t look terribly convinced, but she didn’t say so and instead stoked the hearth with pine needles and kindling to get a fire started.
“Here Allow me,” the man said, once more getting up from his chair in order to move to her side. Slowly, he breathed out and a flame flickered to life at his lips, growing darker
and darker until it was a purple-blue in color.
Within moments, a fire that would have taken her half an hour to build properly, was crackling merrily.
“Magic user,” Karina admired, respect in her gaze. She had sensed it on him before. This only served to confirm her suspicions. This man had even more to hide than she did and that made him all the more interesting. “Where do you come from, stranger? How have you learned to harness magic in such a way?”
The stranger merely snorted at the questions and shook his head. “Why don’t we begin with a form of introduction before I reveal my life’s story? All information will come to be known in time, Lady Knight.”
For a moment, Karina considered protesting. After all, he was the one who’d followed her home, practically invited himself in, and was requesting some unknown favor from her. Still, this stranger was different. There was a serious air about him that begged to be acknowledged and it made it easier to want to listen. For now, at least.
“I shall speak first,” she ended up relenting. “I am known in this province and all throughout Grizlenzadi, as the Black Knight. But at birth, I was Karina McLeed,” she said softly. Her name sounded weird in her ears. It had been too long since anyone, save Flannigan, had known her as such.
“My Lady Knight, Karina,” the stranger hummed, bowing his head respectfully. “I am, in your human tongue, called Carmichael Lorraed. In my native speech, I am called Caichmiorral,” Carmichael explained lightly, a sad smile playing at the corners of his lips.
The strange name Carmichael shared, his true name, left Karina’s head swimming, as though the word and name itself held true power. A power that belonged to the very earth itself rattled her brain. In an instant, she knew exactly who he was. She stood before the lost Dragon King.
“Caichmiorral as in...” but she changed her mind mid-question. “What are you?” she dared to challenge, her tone awed as his golden eyes pierced through her. She wanted to hear him say it out loud and to know he was truly what he claimed to be.
