Aris: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Stratham Dragons Book 1)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “And he molested you?”

  Sophie shuddered. “No, he raped me. There’s a difference.”

  “But he never—”

  She knew the question and knew he hadn’t taken her innocence. “I don’t know why he never did that. He always promised me that someday – when it was the right time – he would. That time never came. And now he’s gone.”

  Aris wrapped his arms around her. “Okay, love. I won’t ask any more questions for now. But if you feel like you can open up to me, please do. I don’t ever want to do anything to trigger your fears.”

  Sophie hadn’t thought of it like that. She just knew she didn’t want to talk about the beatings or the scars that covered her body – something she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to talk about with him. It was too personal and not something she wanted to relive anymore. She was truly free. “Let’s go home.”

  On the way back, she wondered just how she was going to get into the house without the others seeing them. She stayed behind him, the width of his body keeping her shielded. He laughed when they got on the porch.

  There was a note: ‘Next time bring clothes.’

  The guys had left clothes for her on the porch. Great. Things couldn’t get more embarrassing. First, she shifted for the first time and face planted, and now they had to leave her clothes because she hadn’t been prepared.

  “It’s okay to laugh, love. Enjoy life, because now you can. You don’t have anything to worry about anymore.”

  If only that were really the case.

  CHAPTER 24

  One month later

  Sophie had learned that freedom was amazing. At first, she’d been terrified to venture out by herself, but she knew she couldn’t rely on Aris to take care of her, even though he would do anything for her. She found him adorable, yet frustrating. He always seemed to know when she wanted to be alone, and then he’d want to be around her.

  Breakfast in a house full of hungry dragons was always a test to her. She wasn’t used to so many opinions and bickering. It reminded her of when she was in middle school, just before her mother had met Ron. How the boys in the cafeteria would fight and shove each other. The same thing happened here if there wasn’t enough coffee.

  She filled the platters, having enjoyed learning how to cook. It was something she did several times a week. It was her way of taking care of the men in her life, and they didn’t complain when she made triple the amount they needed.

  “Sit down!”

  They all planted themselves in their seats. She felt good. If she had told herself before that she’d be the queen bee of a house full of men, she would have died of hysteria. She had a long way to go with healing, but right now she was happy, and the nightmares happened less and less. The dragon’s voice in her head helped keep her anchored to this reality. She worried she would wake up and realize it was all a dream, but then that dragon would wake up her inner sex kitten, and she would track down Aris to make love. She couldn’t get enough of him, and her dragon always wanted him.

  She glanced his way and smiled. His nostrils flared, and she blushed. The others had learned not to mention the change in her scent. She sat down and watched them fill their plates. Lately, she’d been really hungry, and a part of her wondered if she was pregnant. Was it even possible? Wasn’t it too soon?

  Ilias choked, and Max slapped him on the back. When he met her eyes, he blushed. She raised a brow, wondering what was going on. They’d gotten close, and he was one person she shared her stories with. He was the only one who understood what it meant to be locked away in the darkness.

  But then his eyes rolled back, and he fell from the table as tremors wracked through his body. Sophie jumped up from her spot and ran to his side.

  “Oh, no. Not again!”

  She’d seen this before when she first met Aris.

  Max lifted her up, and Blane took her spot, holding Ilias still as he seized.

  “He’s too young, isn’t he?” She wiped the tear from her cheek. “He shouldn’t be sick.”

  Blane met her eyes and shook his head. “He’s showing all the signs that the others had. So far, I’m the only one who hasn’t gotten sick, and Ilias is the youngest. It can’t be tied to age then.”

  Aris held Ilias still and lifted his eyes to match Sophie’s, as if he thought she could give him all the answers. Sophie wished she could, but it seemed like she had a new mission, one she would do on her on time. Right now, she willed Ilias to be okay. She would make sure every mate was found. She couldn’t lose any of them. They were her family.

  Ilias finally stopped convulsing and lay still on the ground. His eyes had sunken in and were closed. His skin was gray and sticky. Sophie knelt by him now and gripped his hand. It was clammy, but when he squeezed hers back, she nearly wept with joy. He would be okay. But for how long?

  ***

  It made no sense at all. Ilias was the youngest, but they’d noticed how lethargic he had become. He hadn’t eaten much in days, and he always seemed to be falling asleep at random hours.

  When he fell to the ground, Aris’ heart nearly stopped. Ilias was like a son. He was a moody teenager that needed all the love that everyone could offer. Aris did love him, and he loved that Sophie loved him, too. He noticed her watching him lately as if she sensed something was wrong, but every time he asked her, she shook her head.

  When Ilias stopped seizing, Aris lifted him from the ground and carried him into the den and onto the couch. It was the place all of them except Blane had laid.

  His theory that the sickness had to do with reaching a certain age was now a bust. What could it mean that Ilias had suddenly gotten so sick?

  He needed to think.

  “Stay with him,” he ordered Blane, who nodded in return.

  Aris stormed out of the den and made his way outside. Nature was where he did all his best thinking. Maybe he’d see his mother again – something, anything to help him understand and give him a clue as to how to protect them. Now he wasn’t worried about dying. He wasn’t sick anymore, thanks to Sophie, but now the others seemed to be getting sicker.

  He let out a breath and dipped his head when he felt Sophie. She knew he needed her. He never had to ask. It was as if she was in his head at times. The air was heavy with the coming heat of summer. The flowers Blane planted last year were starting to bloom. Aris could smell the aroma surrounding the house.

  “He’ll be okay, Aris. We’ll figure this out.”

  He wasn’t so sure. He worried every day about his brothers. “I hope you’re right.”

  She pressed against his back and wrapped her arms around him. He felt her bury her nose into his shirt and inhale his scent. “I love you, Aris,” she whispered.

  He froze. She hadn’t said it before. He spun around and gripped her shoulders. “What did you say?”

  She rolled her eyes. “I said, ‘I love you.’ As if you didn’t already know that.” She gripped his shirt. “And we will figure this out. Ilias will be okay. And Max and Zarin. And if we’re really lucky, Blane won’t even get sick.”

  He kissed her, bruising her lips. He needed to hear those words from her. He also needed to know that she believed in them as a team. He loved when she called them ‘we.’ His dragon preened at the words, knowing they were finally really loved. He had started to wonder if she would ever tell him, ‘I love you, too.’

  And she did. Now he needed to make sure his brothers all lived long enough to be able to have what he had. It was up to him and Sophie to save their family. Finally, he no longer had to bear the weight of the world on his shoulders alone. Sophie stood by his side and embraced some of the burden as her own.

  Cole

  (Dragons of Umora Book 1)

  SARAH J. STONE

  CHAPTER 1

  You are not my son.

  Those were the most devastating words he could think of. He would rather hear that his parents were dead, that his older brothers, the Crown Prince and the Duke, had disowned him. Anythi
ng but the fact that he was not who he thought he was.

  His blood boiled in his veins as he stood in the middle of the grand hall, the gleaming thrones mocking him. Cole had been born the third Prince of Umora, a planet so advanced in civilization that there was no pain, no suffering, and virtual immortality through science. Everyone on Umora was some sort of shifter, some sort of magical creature – whether it be wolf, lion, or otherwise. The dragon shifters, however, had always been the royal family, ruling over those beneath them. The witches, the werewolves, and the lions all bowed down to the dragon shifters.

  Cole always believed his place in the world was at the top with everyone bowing down to him. He knew that his magic was better than the rest of his family's, but he never thought anything of it. It was a gift, after all.

  What he didn’t know, however, was that he was a half-breed witch and dragon shifter – a bastard orphan left on the door steps. He claimed potential royal blood from both sides or neither. He was everything and nothing at the same time.

  He should have inherited the richness of the witches and the power of the dragons.

  Instead, he lost it all when his father admitted the truth.

  There would be no throne for Cole on Umora, no happy ending here. He had been cheated out of everything by matters of his birth.

  Cole saw only red as he spun around, looking at the murals on the walls.

  This explained so much about his life, about his feelings, and about why he felt like he never fit in. Growing up, it became apparent that he was different than the rest of his family. His magic did not come in the same way theirs did. He could not focus in the same way, could not create the same things. Cole needed to eat more than the rest of them, and more frequently. Alexander seemed to only nibble twice a week, and Nicholas took great pride in large feasts and social meals. But Cole was always ravenous, always strong, and always a moment away from rage.

  His rage was so different than Nicholas's rage. Nicholas was simply a kind soul and fiercely loyal, but also ready to destroy anyone who came near those whom he loved. Cole seemed to rage out for no reason, and he himself admitted that he threw tantrums when he didn't get his way.

  Everyone was unfair to him. His brothers were allowed to do things that he wasn't. His parents let them lead wars and lash out. But Cole was punished unfairly, even by his brothers. They always treated him like a mischievous child who didn't know how to handle himself.

  Death was nothing to him. Feeding for the sake of something to do was nothing to him. He loved the attention, loved the power, but hated how they scolded him.

  And now, it was clear that this was not the place he belonged. All these years of trying to fit in, and he wasn't really one of them anyways. They didn't want him; that much was clear.

  He continued spinning, barely seeing, barely thinking. His anger was uncontrollable, and his rage lay in front of him. He wanted power. He wanted control. He wanted to show them what he was capable of. He was not a child to be scolded, nor was he someone to be put aside.

  And that is when he spotted Earth – painted blue, small, and fragile – in the upper corner of the wall.

  If he could not have Umora, if they thought he didn't belong here, he would show them where he did. He would find his own Kingdom; he would make his own throne.

  He knew how to take control of a planet. That was nothing foreign to his family. They kept peace and ruled over several planets in the system. One simply needed to purge the planet, control its people, and make them fear you. Only then would they bow down.

  Cole turned on his heel and stalked out of the throne room and into the records hall. The records hall contained scrolls of all nature, including rules for unlocking magic on each planet. The Gods who had created the planets, millenniums ago, had written down the secrets to unlocking each one, in the ancient tongue of each planet.

  "Cole," a not-so distant voice called.

  The unexpected sound startled him; he had thought he was alone in the hall. But his brother, Alexander, was standing there, looking majestic and comfortable. But then again, why wouldn’t he be? He belonged here.

  "We've been looking everywhere for you."

  Cole smirked.

  "And why would that be? Seeing as how I don't belong here? Do you want to lock me up, too? Toss me out of the only home I've ever known?"

  "Cole," Alexander took a step further. "I know we've had our differences. But there was no reason for the tantrum you threw."

  "Tantrum?" Cole sputtered. "Tantrum? Is that what you call a reaction to finding out your whole life is a lie?"

  When his father had finally told him the truth, Cole barely remembered what he had done. All he remembered is rage; all he remembered was his dragon brain taking over.

  It was only after coming back to his human form that he heard about the destruction he had caused. He had flown – flown until his wings hurt – and killed whatever had lay in his path. The reports said that he went to neighboring planets, breathing fire, tearing up villages, and leaving civilians dead in his wake.

  They had trembled in fear when they saw him coming, bowing to their knees and begging for mercy. But he didn't care about their pleas, nor did he care about their tears.

  If his family was going to tell him that he was some half-breed monster that didn't belong, he would show them how he didn't belong.

  Let them say he was a criminal; let them say he was a monster with a black soul.

  "That is what I call it when it was followed by the amount of destruction you caused, yes," Alexander replied. "Cole...the people..."

  "You and father have done much worse in your so-called 'peace keeping missions,'" Cole spat. "Following in his footsteps, as if he's always been around to encourage us."

  He knew it wasn't much of an excuse, but there was no excuse that mattered, really. If Alexander was questioning him, then he would not see reason. Alexander was always calm, controlled, logical, and frankly, in Cole’s eyes, boring. He thought carefully about every word that exited his mouth.

  "He is not the kind of King I want to be," Alexander growled.

  “Poor, poor Alexander,” Cole teased him. “Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Always acting as the martyr. Had Finneas still been alive, your life would be so easy, wouldn't it?”

  Alexander's eyes flashed at the mention of their oldest brother. Finneas was supposed to be King, and Alexander would have been his second in command. But Finneas struggled with his own identity, trying to come to terms with what his life's purpose was, and it was never meant to be. It had been two years since Finneas vanished, flitting into the black magic world that was simply known as the Other. No one had ever returned from the Other, and the weight fell heavily on Alexander's shoulders. He had lost his confidant, his mentor, and his best friend. And suddenly, he would rule the land when their father perished.

  “Don't you mention him,” Alexander said, although his voice trembled with emotion. “Finneas fought a fight he could not win. But the rest of us are still here. And it does not change the fact that–”

  "The fact that I am no longer your brother, just some bastard orphan," Cole cut him off, standing tall.

  "That your rage may have killed people," Alexander answered. "You know that when we transform, control is harder..."

  Cole simply smirked.

  "So, you intend to rule passively? Kill them with kindness, is that it? And be nice to your bastard brother, who was born into a terrible life, but go lucky."

  "Cole..."

  "Forget it." Cole had found the scroll he needed. "Forget all of you. I was born to rule, and if you won't accept me here, I’ll find another kingdom!"

  Alexander's eyes widened.

  "Where are you going?"

  Cole smirked, drawing the magic around him.

  "It's a magic trick, brother," he said, and snapped his fingers.

  He felt the familiar magic swirl around him. Magic was always his comfort zone, his safe place that he could go to – a place
that baffled his brothers.

  The golden light filled his soul, and he felt his dragon wings spread. It was only for a moment though, to make the impact with the ground easier. His wings retracted, and he found himself sitting on grass.

  It took a moment for him to adjust to the air. It was different than on Umora, not thicker or thinner, but different.

  The scroll was still clutched in his hand – the key to controlling this race. Humans were weak minded, he had always been told. It was simple magic.

  That is, if he could unlock it. He couldn't even read the words that were written, the characters unfamiliar.

  It had seemed like such a good plan in the moment, standing tall against Alexander. But Cole was smart, and he knew he'd never figure this out without help.

  He pulled his knees up to his chest, laying his head on them, thinking.

  There must be people who worked with ancient texts around here. He could probably intimidate someone into helping him. It shouldn't take long for someone who knew what they were doing. This weak-minded planet could be his by this afternoon.

  And once one planet was his, there were more for the taking. He would show them.

  Cole slowly stood up, glancing down at his clothes. Squinting to catch a glimpse of people in the distance, he snapped his fingers and became dressed like them. He wanted to remain undercover, at least for now.

  In his world, if he faced this problem, there were only a handful of people he could go to – archive managers, elders, perhaps travelers. But he had no idea who those people would be here, or where to find them.

  "Oof!!!"

  He was so wrapped up in his own head, distracted by his thoughts, that he didn't notice the girl he bumped into until it was too late.

  The force sent him stumbling back a few steps, but she tumbled right to the ground, as if she was a limp rag doll.

  He wanted to roll his eyes and walk away; humans were so weak, especially compared to the force of a Dragon. But what she said next stopped him.

  "I'm sorry."