“Well your Highness, it appears as though the population has diminished so severely that the High Council has decided it’s time for each of the four leaders to take a mate in order to replenish our ranks.”
The word “mate” jumped out and smacked Jax clean upside the head. Never in his seven-hundred plus years did he expect this. Before now, each leader was left to choose his or her own mate at his or her own discretion. Of course, throughout time, battles were fought, war was waged and numbers were lost.
When his father had died and the mantle of reign fell to Jax, he sworn he’d never subject another person to his lifestyle. And now, the High Council - those pompous, high and mighty deities of fate - were going to demand he sever his own life-force in order to bring more children into a world they’d never be accepted much less survive? Not to mention there were not that many females left in any of the four factions.
Jax could think of only one in the Wind’s and perhaps two in Fire’s. But neither Air nor Jax’s own Earth sect had any. They couldn’t interbreed, that went against the laws of nature. So, what exactly did the higher-ups expect them to do?
Sensing Samuel’s increasing anxiety, Jax waved a hand to dismiss the man before he fainted. He really couldn’t hold the elder man’s delicacy against him. He was only human in a world full of dragons.
Chapter 2
Oliva Williams was a woman on a mission. Enlisting in the Army directly after high school graduation, she’d endured the years of hellish torture Uncle Sam’s best threw at her.
Ten years later and at twenty-seven years old, she’d finally obtained her rank as Master Sergeant. A week after her promotion she’d been deployed again. It had been her third deployment but first as a senior NCO. The mission had lasted a little over a year. Luckily she’d returned with her entire unit, with not a scratch or bruise evident among them.
She assumed her summons to the Pentagon had something to do with that. She sat in an otherwise empty waiting room and counted the minutes until she was called back.
She’d never been in this particular wing of the Pentagon so when a sliding panel opened across the room from her, she stood abruptly. She’d been staring at the same spot for an hour and never realized it was, in fact, a door.
The officer beckoned her to enter and once across the threshold, the revelation of her exact location hit her like a bolt of lightning.
It was a war room. A war room filled with men and women of the very highest of military ranks and positions. The all sat around a large, oval table - the middle illuminated with a map of the entire world. Once she stepped within view, all conversation ceased abruptly and the man sitting at the head of the table stood to greet her. She nearly fainted as the President of the United States held his hand out for her to cross the room and sit at his right side.
She didn’t miss the looks of animosity and general bias that always accompanied woman of her rank and stature. Although centuries old, the U.S. Military still lagged behind in some aspects - gender equality being just one of them. Another was the fact that despite her murderous physical training, she still couldn’t shake that extra twenty pounds off her body. She wasn’t fat by any means - just healthy with plenty of curves. At six-feet-two-inches tall, she weighed around two hundred and five pounds. About sixty-five pounds too much according to her physician. But no matter how much she pushed her body beyond its limits, those extra pounds stubbornly hung on.
In the end, she’d decided to just let sleeping dogs be. That extra weight didn’t hinder her in her duties - hell, she performed better than half the young meat-heads serving under her command.
“Sergeant Williams?” The President’s gravelly voice prompted her attention back to the strange situation she suddenly faced.
“I’m sorry, Sir,” she rushed out, embarrassed at her sudden distraction. “What may I do for you, Sir?”
The older man smiled, a sudden gleam coating his wrinkled face.
“Sergeant Williams, I’d like you to meet Jaxen Monroe,” he drawled and Oliva’s eyes suddenly diverted to a shadowy corner across the room from her. A black silhouette of a man separated itself from the dark wall and approached the table with a predator-like swagger. Olivia couldn’t help but gawk at the man. Tall, probably somewhere around six-feet-four - possibly more - and muscular; danger radiated off him in loud, blasting waves.
She frantically glanced around the room, looking to see if any of the others noticed the strange “otherness” clouding the man. When everyone’s eyes remained on the papers before them, her anxiety ratcheted up a notch.
She gave Mr. Monroe a curt nod and then turned her attention back to the President. She cleared her throat and tried her best to school her next words very carefully.
“May I ask just what this is about?”
Jaxen and the President shared a look of mutual trust and then Jaxen turned and asked her the most ridiculous question she’d ever heard.
“Will you marry me?”
Chapter 3
Olivia nearly fell out of her chair. She gaped up at the President who’d remained standing and then at the stranger who’d just proposed to her. After studying him under closer scrutiny, she took in his jet-black, collar length hair pulled into a low ponytail and had to blink twice when her perusal was answered by a shimmering net of golden flecks raining down from the crown of his head to the end of his strands.
She stared - simply mesmerized - by the unfolding magic. It was as if an invisible spider had draped a golden net atop his head; highlighting the inky blackness with flashy, golden highlights. But as silky and beautiful his hair was, his eyes were even better. Deep chocolate and oval, they almost screamed feline by the way the tilted up at the corners. His strong, Romanesque nose sat proudly above warm, inviting lips.
Olivia visibly cringed when he smiled and little wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes. He wasn’t exactly built like a football player - all meaty muscles - like she preferred in a man, instead his body screamed tall, lean and strong. She could easily see him as an avid swimmer or basketball player considering his impressive height.
When her eyes moved back up toward his, he dipped his head as if in courtesy.
“May I take that as a yes?” he asked, the corners of his mouth tilting up as he smiled. Olivia opened her mouth to, no doubt, insult him but stopped short when she spotted the four little pearly whites that all but confirmed the man wasn’t merely human.
Fangs.
He had four fangs. Instead of normal canine teeth, like all humans have, his were slightly longer and very pointy.
“No,” Olivia denied. “You may not.” She then turned her attention back to the President.
“Sir, permission to speak freely?” she prompted and then cleared her throat of the profanities that burned to spew forth. She had to remind herself - several times in fact - that she was in the presence of the best of the best and the leader of the free world.
The President smiled and gave her a curt nod.
“You may Master Sergeant,”
“Just what in the holy hell is going on here?” she demanded. “Who is this man and why is he proposing to me?” she added with a nod at Jaxen.
A collective gasp resounded throughout the room and the man seated to Olivia’s right murmured something under his breath. She didn’t catch all of it, merely the “unreasonable female, should have never let them serve,” propaganda she’d faced all her career. She almost chuckled in spite of the anger and confusion seizing her. The men wanted to scream, rant and rave about women and their “feminism,” but who was the first person they’d thrown on this particular chopping block?
The woman. Why? She turned angry eyes on Jaxen and sneered. Apparently because she was the one with the adequate parts to handle the situation.
“Olivia,” the President coaxed her attention back to him by using her given name and not her hard-won rank. She didn’t take offense, she merely accepted the compliment in the air it was given. The President was serious enough to acknow
ledge her by her name, the least she could do was be civil...for the moment.
“It appears as though a history lesson is on today’s agenda,” Jaxen observed and flashed a tooth grin at Olivia. “Perhaps I may be so bold as to offer that lesson?” He slid his gaze to the President and waited for permission before taking the vacant seat opposite Olivia.
He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, clearly asking if she were ready.
“Oh, by all means,” she snapped. “I’m all ears.”
He smiled again and Olivia inwardly groaned when her feminine genes wiggled in response. She resigned to giving herself a bold, mental lashing later for daring to react to such a barbaric creature.
“Eons ago,” Jaxen stated. “The world as you and millions of others know it, was very different than the way it has been perceived by historians. Humans aren’t the only beings inhabiting this planet...” he trailed off and chuckled when he caught Olivia glaring at him. Of course her first thought had been that this man was a lunatic if he were talking about aliens.
“No, I’m not talking about beings from outer space,” he confirmed her suspicions and she wondered if he’d read her mind. Deciding to leave nothing to fate, she monitored her thoughts carefully lest he could. “I’m talking about paranormal creatures: angels, demons, vampires, were-animals, shifters and of course my kind; dragons.”
“Dragons?” Olivia repeated drolly.
“Those are merely a few,” he added as if she weren’t staring at him like he’d sprouted two heads and a forked tongue. “There are many, many more being discovered as we speak. But anyway, the dragons were among some of the first inhabitants of this planet. There are four factions, or I’ll call them ‘tribes’ for your benefit. One tribe for each element: earth, air, fire and water. Are you with me so far?” he asked.
Although her eyes had glazed over in a red-hot rage, Olivia pressed her lips together so tightly she feared they would crack and nodded her head instead of responding verbally. She feared what would happen if she opened her mouth. This was all some crazy dream or haze tactic and it was best just to let it run its course. She’d suffer the indignity of the situation with her head held high.
“Good,” Jaxen quipped with a pleased smile. “Each tribe has a leader who’s known as the Prince. I am Prince Jaxen Monroe, leader of Earth Elementals. I am the sole leader and Alpha, my reign is absolute,” he added the last part with a low trace of threat and she wondered who’d dared question this man’s claim.
“And you proposed to me because?” Olivia asked, not realizing until the moment she’d spoken that she truly wanted an answer. She couldn’t deny an animalistic attraction to the man, but yet she sensed something wasn’t quite right with this whole situation. His whole ludicrous story was just a work of fiction.
Jaxen slid his gaze back to the President who answered with a deep sigh. After a few moments of silence, he nodded at Jaxen to proceed.
“The High Council - our kind’s board of directors, as it were - have decreed that each tribe leader take a mate in order to replenish our ranks. Dragons are all but extinct.”
Olivia heard the man, quite clearly, and yet she said nothing for a few minutes. Even though every eye in the room was nervously shifting from her to the Jaxen to the President, she couldn’t fathom when the joke would come out.
“Olivia,” the President prompted her attention. “I would like to say that this is a request but that wouldn’t be the truth. After sharing our enlisted military personnel DNA database with Mr. Monroe, you’re the only one who can successfully carry out this mission. And it is that; a mission. These are your orders Master Sergeant.” His eyes narrowed in a hardened glare. “You are under a direct order to accompany Mr. Monroe to his estate and remain there until the mating ceremony can be arranged.”
Olivia’s heart stopped, her vision dimmed and suddenly the floor rushed up to greet her like a long-lost lover.
Chapter 4
Jaxen shot the man to Olivia’s right a murderous glare and lurched from his chair when his soon-to-be-mate slid bonelessly to the floor.
“Trust me son.” The old man smirked and placed the tranquilizer gun on the table before him in plain sight. “It’s for the best. That woman is one hellcat even I wouldn’t tangle with.”
“I appreciate your concern Admiral,” Jaxen said through gritted teeth. “But I assure you, your actions were entirely unnecessary.” A sudden urge to strangle the man until his eyeballs popped from his square head bombarded Jax but he stomped it down and set his attention on the one thing he came for.
He knelt beside the woman’s prone body and then scooped her into his arms. Although large for a human female, he found her absolutely ravishing. He wished he could reach up and free her auburn locks from the severe military bun but was content to merely cradle her gently to his chest.
The moment the President had ordered her to throw herself on the sacrificial alter, her clear blue eyes widened so much, they looked like a turbulent sea midst a storm. Blues and greens of all shades collided, fighting for domination. Thick, black eyelashes fanned her high cheekbones and even slackened in oblivion, her lips were simply plump slivers of kissable skin.
That was just a few seconds before the old war-monger had popped her with the tranq dart.
He tilted his head this way and that, studying her in detail for the first time. He liked that she was healthy, some would even have called her fat, but not him. No, he liked his women strong and healthy. Her size was a testament to her strength and in that one moment, as he stared down at her unconscious form, he knew he just found his mate. His forever.
“Are you absolutely sure she’s the one?” a rumbling male voice called from the other end of the table.
Jaxen looked up and stared down at the man. An elderly man, probably late sixties with a white buzz cut and severe iron-starched Army uniform scowled back at him.
“Yes General Adkins,” the President answered. “Her DNA was flagged when she enlisted. She’s not full human, her DNA shows a forty-percent match to Mr. Monroe’s sample. She’s a hybrid; almost one-half dragon.”
Jaxen looked back down at Olivia. This time he noticed the light smattering of freckles brushing across her upper cheeks and nose. She had fair skin, but if he looked deeply enough, he saw the glow no one else could. The aura of ‘other.’ Relief hit him like a tidal wave and it took all his strength to keep himself still instead of crashing to the floor with her.
He’d found her.
He’d found his mate and the savior of his tribe.
But could he subject her to a life she neither knew existed nor wanted for herself?
Once he’d taken some time and thought about the High Council’s orders, he’d realized they had a point. Including all four factions, only twenty or so dragons still survived. If they wanted a continued existence, the time for drastic measures had come.
Which was why when Samuel suggested Jax contact an old war buddy his, Jax had reluctantly done so. Samuel’s friend had then initiated Project Fallout, a centuries old organization formed shortly after the birth of man. Their primary function was to ensure the prolonged survival of all races of creatures. Within minutes of Jax’s conversation with the anonymous man, he’d gotten a call from the President of the United States.
Apparently the President did indeed have a Book of Secrets and Project Fallout was an entry he’d been apprised of as the military had a secret database that cataloged all foreign DNA when a soldier enlisted. As he’d listened to the President’s explanation of their procedures, Jax’s head had spun. He didn’t care how they did it, all that mattered was that he found a mate.
As an added incentive, the High Council had ordered that any leader who refused or failed to take a mate would be usurped and killed. Jax rather preferred to keep his head and his life, hence his current situation.
“Maybe you should take her to your estate before she regains consciousness?” General Adkins suggested, interrupting Jax’s frantic mind.
Chapter 5
Olivia came awake with a start and moaned as the pain in her head overrun every other body ache. She sat up and with eyes still pressed tightly closed, she reached up to massage her temples. She’d suffered from chronic headaches all her life, the gentle finger massage was usually the best way to alleviate the pain. Aside from narcotics, it was the best she could do and remain conscious to attend her duties.
It wasn’t until she realized the sunlight streamed in from her left instead of the right, that she recalled the crazy dream of dragons and direct orders to marry a dragon prince. Squinting her eyes, she pried them gently open and studied the room. She didn’t remember getting home or in bed. Come to think of it, she didn’t remember much of anything from the day before.
Had she blacked-out? Had she crashed at the barracks?
“I apologize for your discomfort My Lady,” a gentle British-accented voice called from across the room, prompted Olivia to bolt from the bed, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed. She frowned when the short, balding man stepped through the open doorway carrying a tray with some fancy teapot and cups. “I am Samuel and I am here to see to any needs you should have.”
He sat the tray on the chest at the foot of the bed and stood back with his hands clasped behind his back; apparently awaiting her orders.
“Where the hell am I?” Olivia demanded and winced as the pain in her head ratcheted another notch.
The older man smiled and bowed in a formal fashion.
“You are at the Monroe Estate, My Lady,” he informed her softly. “My Lord brought you in last night. He says that I should tell you that it wasn’t him who sedated you but someone by the name of Admiral Johnson. He also says to please make yourself at home, the mating ceremony isn’t until midnight.”
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