by A. K. Koonce
Taming
Copyright 2018 A.K. Koonce
All Rights Reserved
Cover design by Killer Book Covers
Editing by Varankor Editing & Editing & Ms. Correct All’s Editing and Proofreading Services
No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without express written permission from the author. Any unauthorized use of this material is prohibited.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Dedicated to my mom. I bet she thought I’d outgrow that weird dragon phase.
Table of Contents
Chapter One – Beautiful Monsters
Chapter Two – Sell-Those-Fucking-Dragons-So-Arlow-Can-Afford-To-Live Day
Chapter Three – The Transformation
Chapter Four – The Shifters and the Mage
Chapter Five – Ridiculous Men
Chapter Six – The Other Mage
Chapter Seven – The Sweet One
Chapter Eight – Reckless Emotions
Chapter Nine – Ignoring Reality
Chapter Ten – Between a Dream and Reality
Chapter Eleven – Her Honorable Word
Chapter Twelve – When Pasts Collide
Chapter Thirteen – Faking It
Chapter Fourteen – As White as Snow
Chapter Fifteen – The Favorite
Chapter Sixteen – The Mage
Chapter Seventeen – His Filthy Mouth
Chapter Eighteen – Flaws and Fuck Ups
Chapter Nineteen – Personal Space
Chapter Twenty – Her Demons
Chapter One of Claiming
Also by A.K. Koonce
About A.K. Koonce
Chapter One
Beautiful Monsters
White flashes of moonlight glint against the glossy surface of the three objects in the old mage’s palms. Interest fires all through my veins as she lowers them into the dirt, pushing at the dust until it makes a nice mound over the three items. She pats the dirt sweetly once more before turning away, her long dress skimming against the ground as she returns to the dark cottage. Her white hair sways against her back as she leaves, never once looking out at the road where I stand.
I’m a drifter. In a way, I’ve been a drifter my entire life. In the last five years, I’ve taken the job pretty seriously though. This small, quiet village within the Kingdom of Minden is nice, unnoticeable, and easy for someone who wants to disappear to do just that.
That’s what I love about it.
This mage, Agatha, may be as old and dusty as this village itself, but she’s my only friend. I came to check on her. Every few days I stop by to visit with her and gossip about who the Prince is sleeping with now and why it isn’t me. I’m wasting the beautiful curves of my youth as she likes to tell me. I don’t have the heart to tell the blind woman that the Prince isn’t nearly as attractive as she thinks he is.
I might be a little bit of a bitch sometimes, but I’m not about to crush an old woman’s fantasies. That’s just cruel.
That’s what I came here for: mindless chatter. Until Aggie started ominously burying something in her front yard. People only bury things for two reasons: to remember what they once had, or to hide what they once had.
The thin material of my dress brushes lightly against my thighs as I quietly make my way up the dirt path. A few overgrown bushes line the front yard, concealing one window and skimming against the glass of the other. Not that she could see me even if she looked out.
But she’s a mage. A powerful mage. Much stronger than myself.
If she wanted to know what waited outside her little home, she would.
Hesitantly, I linger near the dirt that’s piled over the objects she buried. My gaze shifts to the arched front door. I came here for a visit with a friend.
I don’t have many friends. Okay I don’t have any aside from Aggie if I’m being honest. But fuck, she buried something under the light of the full moon. She all but did a ritual out here with a sacrificial goat. She could have disposed of them in a clandestine place, but she didn’t. I can’t just ignore that.
I lower myself, falling onto my hands and knees, and begin clawing at the dry dirt. It’s a rapid and almost manic drive to find out what lies here. My conscience is quickly pushed aside as the dirt sinks into my nails with each handful of earth I rip away. The clinking sound of my bracelets makes my nerves skitter with every sound they make. A smooth curve beneath rocky particles of dirt glides against my fingertips. My palm sweeps over the hard surface once more, pushing aside the grit to see the three objects underneath.
They’re … eggs.
Enormous eggs.
Large animals are worth a large price.
The animal trader in me is already mentally calculating what a beast this size could be worth. Imagine what three of them would be valued at.
With both hands, I try to steal away the top one, my arms aching as I realize the monstrous eggs are just as heavy as they look. My gaze flickers back to the golden glow of Agatha’s front window. I could come back for the other two, but it’s a mile-long walk. Would she come back out tonight?
I pull at the end of my skirt and quickly try to pile the three eggs into the thin material. A tearing sound rips through the silence, but as I stand, they hold in place against my body; straining against the cloth but not falling to the ground.
I’d hate to harm one of them.
I feel like an asshole. Who steals from a blind woman? Who does that?
… I do.
Why would Agatha bury them? She isn’t as familiar with creatures as I am. Perhaps she thought they were useless. She’s blind, so perhaps she didn’t realize they were eggs at all.
But she’s also a mage. So it’s even more likely she knew what these things were and wanted to rid herself of them as quickly as possible.
I, on the other hand, am not about to throw away money, or the lives of whatever these animals may grow up to be.
Their lives will be worth living. I want to make a profit of course, but honestly, I just can’t stand the thought of not helping them. I don’t show it, but my little, slightly selfish heart loves these types of mysterious creatures.
Raising and selling magical animals is just a business for me. I can’t get attached. I have to make a living in this world the only way I know how.
On awkward steps, and with aching arms, I carry the boulder like eggs home. The dark forest surrounds me, shutting out the majority of the moonlight and making me stumble more than once before my small shack comes into view.
Glowing embers of ruby eyes greet me as I get closer. The sweet little hellhound rubs his warm temple against my thigh as I pass, but I don’t have a free arm to return the affection to my pet.
The dark and fuming hellhound, Grim, might just be the love of my life. It’s a pathetic love life that I’m leading, I’ll admit.
With the force of my hip, I bump open the door. A creaking cry comes from the hinges, and I don’t bother closing it behind me as I settle in near the dwindling embers of the fire. The one room home is tiny with a cot on the far left side of the room and a worn and rickety kitchen table on the other side. The small fire easily warms the abandoned shack that I made my home.
The smooth curve of one of the eggs fills my hands. My own reflection peers at me on the iron like surface. The two others glisten near the fire. In the lighting, I can really make out their det
ails. One’s a pure white color. It shimmers like fresh snow while the one nestled next to it is as dark as blood. The third one, the one that I hold in my hands, is a consuming deep smoky tone.
They’re shining and beautiful.
“But what are they?” I whisper to myself.
I have a thing for creatures, the dangerous and the unique, and I’ve never seen an egg this large. It’s even bigger than an ostrich egg. Its structure seems thicker as well. I hold it close to my chest, and my eyes fall closed as a deep breath fills my lungs.
My magic is quiet within me. I’ve hidden it away and tried to save it up for when I know I’ll really need it in the future.
It’s there though. A numb sort of tingling feeling of power stings through my body.
A blur of a thousand images flickers through my mind. I search past them all until one faded image pulls to the front.
My sight shows me three colossal animals. Their wingspan is the size of the run-down shack that I’ve called home for the past year. Thick scales cover their bodies like proud armor. Long talons and sharp teeth lash down from the heavens, preparing to scoop up their next prey.
“Dragons.” My eyes open once more, the depths of my blue irises are inky in the reflection of its glossy shell.
A strong and quick beat begins to take over my heart.
They’re rare.
Deadly.
Expensive.
I’ve never sold a dragon before. The most I’ve ever gotten for a magical creature was a year’s worth of income for a pegasus. Would have been more if it was a unicorn, but the buyer didn’t believe me when I said its horn was just underdeveloped.
A dragon could pay for a new life, though. A real life. Imagine how I could live.
With three dragons, I could start over. No longer would I be a drifter running from her past. I could have a home. A family.
A life.
A smile pulls at my lips, and I’ve already made up my mind.
Without another thought, I toss the onyx egg into the fire.
Mages no longer have the darling little reputation that the generations before us had. No, we’re feared. My mother hid me away to protect me, but it weakened my powers. When I was older, I studied magic and magical creatures. Studying magical creatures was the safest form of magic I could think of to continue to stay under the radar of those who hunt us. My actual powers grew stronger with the help of Kreedence. I thought he cared about me, but I know now that that was a lie.
My lip curls as I think of the man I thought I loved. I push the thoughts from my mind. It’s an old chapter of my life and I grew from it. I learned more about my trade because of it.
I know creatures from all over the world. It’s a specialty of mine.
And I know heat is needed for dragons to survive.
Maybe that’s why Agatha disposed of them. Maybe she couldn’t get them to hatch.
A cold summer breeze shakes against the worn, open door, threatening to tear it from its weak hinges as it drifts back and forth. The wind catches against my dark hair, but all my focus is on the flames caressing the inky shell.
Grit and dirt of the old floorboards shift against my fingertips as I move closer to the shining black egg.
Prayers like I’ve never said before stream through my mind to whatever goddess my mother loved so much. I pray hard, wishing like hell the little creature will survive the heat and grow stronger from the kiss of the fire
The smallest of lines crack against the surface, making me gasp.
The heat stings my cheeks as I peer into the heart of the embers.
A breath is long forgotten in my lungs.
Without blinking, I stare hard with impatience.
Sharp nails pierce through the shell, thrusting through it until its whole leg is revealed and ripping off the imprisonment of its small home.
A quiet but powerful hum of a roar reverberates through the egg. Strong wings burst from its remaining surroundings and the tiny creature looks up at me with crystal-like eyes. Curiosity is in its gaze as it studies me for several seconds.
I shuffle quickly, reaching up on the table until I find the only food I have. I rip the meat into a thin shred, and with careful movements, I extend the offering to the little beast.
“Eat,” I say in a quiet, gentle voice. It’s a tone I’d never use with humans. As deadly as a dragon might be, humans are far worse creatures.
Yes, animals are much easier to speak with.
Bobble, the white tumid fish on my bedside table watches the beast with wide fearful eyes. His gaze is more bulging than normal if that’s possible. The fat little fish looks like its puffy body is filled entirely with anxiety in this moment.
The dragon crawls out of the flames, shaking off the ash once it’s on the floor next to me. A ticking sound announces its small steps as its talons hit the boards. Its head is the size of my palm, and its sharp teeth rake against my fingertips as it nibbles cautiously at the strip of dry meat in my hand.
Warm, golden firelight flashes across its eyes and I lean in even closer to the creature. One eye is a pale blue and one is a warm honey color. It’s unique and beautiful. I’ve seen the iris mutation in dogs, but it isn’t common. It keeps its gaze locked on me as it tears off more meat with razor like teeth.
“My name’s Arlow.” I whisper the introduction with affection tinging my tone. It doesn’t acknowledge me at all as it continues to devour its dinner. “Time for your friends.”
With care, I cradle the red egg in my palms. The heat of the flames nips at my skin as I push it into the hot embers.
The second one is born just like the first.
It climbs out with more strength than the other dragon. Crimson scales capture the light of the fire in gleaming magnificence. It’s just as deadly and beautiful as the other one, but it’s not nearly as trusting. I can’t even get close enough to offer it a strip of meat without the beast snapping its traitorous snout at me. I toss the food to the floor, and its taloned wing pulls the meat closer. Low growls emit from its throat with every move I make.
“Aren’t you a little darling.” I roll my eyes at its shitty attitude and begin bringing the last one over to the fireplace.
The white one is a little smaller than the others. It’s so pure looking I can’t bring myself to toss it into the flames. On my knees, I lean into the fire. I don’t release the egg even as the heat stings my knuckles.
The embers crackle as I settle the egg in against the ash and dust.
What if it doesn’t do as well? It’s so small, what if it isn’t ready yet?
I peek down at the two dragons ripping viciously at the last few scraps of meat.
Hell, what if these things kill me before the end of the week?
Life is filled with what-ifs.
You can only leap into the flames and hope you have the strength to walk away from the ash.
Heat washes over me as I lean into the warm fire. The golden hue of the flames glisten against my dark hair reflecting in the shimmering white surface.
Just when my hope starts to sink low in my stomach, a small crack shatters down the curved shell. The cracking sound sparks excitement all through me.
And just like that, another beautiful monster is born.
Chapter Two
Sell-Those-Fucking-Dragons-So-Arlow-Can-Afford-To-Live Day
In three weeks, the creatures have grown to the size of wolves.
With the table manners to match.
“Get off the table. You’ve eaten all the fucking food, Kain. There’s nothing else up there for you.” I sit up in my bed, glaring daggers at the plate that’s laying in broken pieces on the floor. A fuming roar that sounds a little like a pouting cry comes from his red snout, but he continues to search the old table for scraps. New claw marks line the surface of the table that he’s currently using as a throne to sit his ass on.
Their names swirled through my sight for days. The names taunted my thoughts. When I finally tested the soun
d of their names on my lips, they responded as if fate itself named them. It warmed me to give them names. I rarely ever keep and name my creatures. It makes it harder to get rid of them. Just look at the hellhound I haven’t been able to part with since I first laid eyes on him.
Don’t even get me started on Bobble. I tilt my head at the beady eyes that are looking up at me from my bedside table. As the fish ascends closer to the surface of his glass bowl, its body starts to swell. I think it’s a sort of allergy to the air, but it doesn’t stop the poor thing from trying to test its limits. As its body bobs above the surface it inflates dramatically, pressing its eyes out impossibly further within its head until I use my index finger to push it back down into the clear water. The fish’s body deflates immediately, and it blinks its unintelligent black eyes up at me in thanks. I can definitely understand why Bobble’s kind is nearly extinct.
I shake my head at him before looking down at my lap. With anxious hands, I shove at the heavy dragon that’s blanketed across my body. Its dark wings are spread across my hips as Chaos lies like a lazy dog between my legs.
Rime is the only good one. He sits quietly in a chair by the window. His gaze assesses every move outside the dirty glass.
He’s almost a better watchdog than my actual watchdog. Let’s not tell the sweet little hellhound I said that.
A bowl shatters to the floor and my jaw tics as I pin Kain with a hard stare.
“I swear there’s nothing left. Get off the table. All that’s left to eat is me.”
His clawing stomps halt. Silence drops immediately. His head swings my way and he gives me a slow appraisal. Heated, fiery attention skims over my shoulders, my breasts, and the curve of my hips. It’s so human-like it makes me pull my blankets closer to my chest.
Chaos’s gaze meets mine and a rumbling sound emits from the animal’s throat. The humming sound rolls against my core until I kick out of the covers.
My bare feet skim over the warm floorboards. I’ve slept too late and the sun is high in the sky, heating my little shack to an unbearable temperature.
I’d sleep naked, but the dragons really do seem smarter than the average lizard. Even as I stand here in my bra and underwear, all three of them watch me with too much interest. A groan shakes through Rime’s chest before he tears his attention away from me.
