by D. F. Jones
She put her fingertips on his lips, moved away, and then got on bended knee.
“Grayson MacDonald, marry me,” she said in a calm clear voice.
He swept her up into his arms.
Cheers rose to a crescendo within the hall then trailed off, fading into the usual chatter.
Gray stood transfixed to the spot, holding Morgan, determined never to let her go.
The torch in the bracket lit the unfinished room with soft shadows. The smell of rock and dust filled the air.
“What are you doing here?” Gray entered the unfinished tower room.
“I came to retrieve my kirtle. It’s my favorite.” Morgan showed it to him. “And my cape, and to think.”
“Think?” He remained close to her. So close she glimpsed the flecks of silver in his eyes.
“I waited for two years. I waited another year concerned you were detained, doubted you loved me. Finally, I realized perhaps you never did love me.”
He wiped the moisture from her eyes and spoke to her, his lips against her forehead.
“Aye, I fought like a demon for two years for my king to make my father and you proud. In my last battle, I fought a good fight. I was done, ready to come to you. I let my guard down.”
“No.” She clutched at him.
“I didn’t follow my own advice. My chest was sliced open, but not before I killed the man. My men needed to move on, but I couldn’t travel. They left me in the care of a woman.”
“Oh, there is someone else.” She backed away from him, but he wouldn’t let her leave.
“Yes, a very old grandmother who brought me back to health, but it took a year. The only thing that kept me going was thinking of you. Of holding you. Of making you my wife.”
“Can I tell you a secret? One I’ve told no one.” She looked down to avoid his gaze.
He moved closer, his mouth at her ear. “Tell me anything you like. Your secret is safe.”
She wet her lips, her mind reeled, and her heart, it pounded so loud she was certain he could hear it.
“I knew your reason for not taking me with you was right. I was disappointed and angry. I struck back with the only weapon I had, my silence.” She raised her head and looked into his eyes. Tears rolled down her cheeks. “I never wished you well. I never told you I would be here when you returned, and I hated myself for it.”
He wiped her tears away with his thumb and cupped her head, pulling it close to his chest.
“Do you forgive me for taking so long to come to you?” He gave her a tender kiss on her forehead.
“Only if you forgive me for being a petulant child?” She snuggled closer.
Gray lowered his head. His mouth covered hers, capturing her lips in a gentle, hot possession. He coaxed them open and deepened his kiss.
He broke their kiss, but she would have none of that. She felt the heady sensation of his lips on her neck. He pressed her lips to his, caressing her mouth more than kissing it. A shiver of excitement rushed through her veins and burst into a rush of heat.
“Morgana,” he whispered in her ear.
“I love you. I have always loved you and I always will.” The words tumbled out of her mouth.
“My feisty warrior,” he said.
He took the green gem from his neck and put it into her hand.
“I planned to give this to you three years ago. It has gone with me everywhere. When I thought I was dying I held it close. In my heart it represented my love for you.” He closed her hand around the gem. “It brought me closer to the one person I love. You.”
They stood content in each other’s arms.
“We’ve made a formidable enemy.”
He kissed her nose. “As long as we have each other’s back we can handle anything.”
About Ruth A. Casie
RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author of historical swashbuckling action-adventures and contemporary romance with enough action to keep you turning pages. Her stories feature strong women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. She lives in New Jersey with her hero, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she found her voice, she was a speech therapist (pun intended), client liaison for a corrugated manufacturer, and vice president at an international bank where she was a product/ marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing romance. She hopes her stories become your favorite adventures.
Where you can find Ruth:
Ruth’s website
AllAuthor
Also By Ruth A. Casie
Buy Ruth’s Books
Stelton Legacy
Historical Romance
The Guardian’s Witch
The Highlander’s English Woman
The Maxwell Ghost
The Pirate’s Jewel – Pirates of Britannia - crossover
The Pirate’s Redemption – Pirates of Britannia - crossover
Hugh – The Sons of Sagamore – Pirates of Britannia – crossover
Donald – The Sons of Sagamore – Pirates of Britannia – crossover July 2020
Graham – The Sons of Sagamore – Pirates of Britannia – crossover October 2020
PNR/ Fantasy Part 4
The Dragon Assassin’s Sunstryker by Sheri-Lynn Marean
Fated Match by Miranda Lynn
USA Bestselling Author
Alerian’s War by Dariel Raye
USA Bestselling Author
Matchmaker’s Mission by D.B. Sieders
Award-winning Author
With His Life by Theresa Hissong
International Bestselling Author
The Dragon Assassin’s Sunstryker by Sheri-Lynn Marean
Prologue
Dark clouds gathered, while thunder boomed—great drums pounding the night in an off-beat rhythm. Whips of lightning zipped and flashed, fast and deadly—illuminating the valleys and spiked peaks all around him. The never-ending scent of rain and ozone permeated the air as the male stood overlooking his empty, barren world.
Hands clenched at his sides, nails dug into his palms.
Rage, a black seething mass that constantly festered, grew ever stronger. It pounded furiously, striking at him, just as it had for the last hundred years.
One of these days he’d be free.
Then my Betah, I will come for you. I will pay you back for what you’ve taken from me.
The vow—a yearly ritual spoken on the eve of his brother’s betrayal—echoed in his mind even as it drifted away on the gusting wind. It was all he had. All he’d ever have.
He inhaled the damp, energy-infused air into his lungs, then exhaled, letting it all go. Or, as much as he could. Then he shifted into his dragon. It was the only freedom he had anymore.
Yet as he flew through the never-ending storm to his lair, a deep, aching loneliness settled once more within his soul.
Chapter 1
Demon’s Cellar
Treya steeled herself against the cacophony vibrating through the walls of the Demon’s Cellar, and slipped inside the thundering nightclub. Shards of pain lanced her skull at the overloud noise as the door closed behind her. Her eyes adjusted to the dim lighting enough to see that the place was packed with a multitude of human and supernatural beings. How any of them could stand the racket was beyond her. To her enhanced senses the onslaught was brutal.
The urge to leave beat at her, but Treya pushed onward. She’d been told there was a job to be had, and desperately needed the money.
Money. She hadn’t given much thought to that when she took her little brother and escaped the compound on Icarus where she’d been born and raised. Engineered was more like it.
What kind of work she was interviewing for tonight was anyone’s guess, but she had a pretty good idea it wasn’t as a dancer, waitress, or dishwasher. Not with her skill set. “Beggars can’t be choosers,” she mumbled, and began to weave through the crowd.
Though she was slight of build and only of average hei
ght, a path cleared around Treya to give her space. The reaction resulted not from the multitude of weapons strapped to her body, but rather the power she wielded, which most around her would be able to sense. She could have cloaked her energy, and usually did so while on missions. But here, surrounded by dangerous supes, she didn’t bother—keeping everyone away suited her just fine.
Yet despite that, she still received open glares of jealousy from the women, while the men blatantly inspected her with leers of hunger that Treya didn’t even want to think about.
As a genetically engineered dragon shifter raised among others like her, she’d never felt out of place before. But since leaving Icarus, she’d quickly learned that not everyone was born with the same exceptional looks. She honestly could have done without them, preferring to blend rather than stand out.
The compound hadn’t been all bad until the director and his consort decided to give her a brother. She had a bed, food, clothes, and a roof over her head. Trained from birth to be one of the most elite assassins in all the fifty-two realms, she had pushed herself hard to be the best.
Because the best never had to fear for their life.
Never had to fear they’d be retired and put down.
Treya became one of the deadliest killing machines around.
A fact she wasn’t exactly proud of. Still, she’d been assured her targets were bad people that needed to go away for the greater good, and for a long time had believed what she’d been told.
Somehow the director figured out that she’d begun to question her missions. In retaliation he gave her a brother, and then used him to ensure Treya completed her missions and returned.
Now though he was ten years old, Jacey was very small for his size. He had the same genetically altered DNA as Treya but had ended up flawed for some reason—unable to shift into the dragon that lived inside him. That, combined with his lack of strength, left him at the bottom of the soldier ranks.
Those at the bottom didn’t last long, and Treya knew it was only a matter of time before the director decided Jacey was more trouble than he was worth—even as a hostage.
For if there was one thing she knew about the director, he was extremely vain, and failed experiments looked bad on him. His consort’s constant whispering in his ear didn’t help matters.
No, if she hadn’t left, he’d have retired Jacey, like he’d done to so many others.
“Hey, come dance with me, sexy,” a smiling human called out to her, a nod of his head indicated the mindless gyrating bodies.
Treya kept going. She didn’t have time for dancing, or anything but learning what this job was, how much it paid, and getting it done.
Another man with short brown hair and a sharp aura of darkness, cut her off. “Think you’re better than all of us here, don’t you?” A hyena shifter, and judging by the group waiting behind him, the alpha of his pack.
Senses prickling with warning, Treya started to move past him.
Anger flashed in his obsidian eyes, and he grabbed her long black hair. “Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you.”
Treya stopped, catching a whiff of nectar-infused alcohol on his breath. Though not a bad looking guy, the sneer on his face and hard eyes revealed his true colors. “I think you better let me go.”
“And if I don’t?” He leaned close, sniffing at her.
Treya’s blade pressed against his jugular. She let her dragon rise to shine through her blue eyes. “Do I need to tell you again?”
The hyena started to release her, then pulled her close against him. “Dragon shifters, all think they’re so superior.”
A deadly fury rose within Treya.
“Leave her alone.” Another male, a large nightwalker who was obviously a bouncer, placed himself between her and the hyena. He flashed his pearly white fangs.
The hyena growled.
Annoyance set in, then Treya mentally shook herself. She couldn’t just go around gutting everyone who bothered her, no matter how much she might wish too.
“This isn’t over,” the hyena said on a snarl.
Treya could feel his beady eyes on her back as she shot the bouncer a glare. “I could have handled him.”
He chuckled, the tips of his fangs showing. “Oh, I know, but I really didn’t feel like cleaning up hyena guts tonight. They smell bad.”
Treya raised an eyebrow. “Says the vampire?”
The bouncer grinned. “It’s true, hyena is an acquired taste. Dom is waiting for you in his office.” The bouncer led her to the back of the club and pushed open a red door. “Go down the hall and up the stairway at the end.”
The door closed, blocking out most of the noise.
Grateful for the reprieve, Treya gathered a sense of calm around herself, knowing the male she faced next was not to be taken lightly.
At the top of the stairs was a door, but when Treya raised her hand to knock, it opened inward on a pulse of energy. “Come.”
The room before her was large and masculine. Against the walls on each side of her, gleaming glass shelves held crystals, ancient weapons, and various artifacts. Across the room was a large glass window overlooking the club below. Two armed guards stood silent just inside the door.
Treya noted their weapons, then focused on the large, dark-haired male seated behind a heavy black wooden desk polished to a high gleam. Dom—Domorio.
With a hard face, dark hair, and green eyes, he wore a well-tailored two-piece black suit over a green silk shirt. He appeared to be a businessman, but his deadly aura said he was much more.
Stories of Domorio abounded, though no one seemed to know exactly what kind of supe he might be. The predominant theory was demon-born.
As intense eyes studied her, Treya knew that theory was wrong, or at least not complete. The man wielded a boatload of power, so much so it was making her react.
Treya kept her energy on lockdown. “You have a job for me?”
“Right to the point. I like that. I’ve been told good things about you,” Dom replied.
Treya didn’t respond.
“I hear you have the ability to cloak yourself, and teleport.”
“I do.” Among other things.
“Good.” He held out a piece of paper.
Treya took it and scanned the information. “You want me to go to Corsica Di’osa and steal a piece of tech from the most notorious, feared, true-born dragon who hates everyone?”
“I do,” Dom said. “You have a problem with that?”
It would be dangerous, and this particular dragon was a powerful, well-known ancient. A former dragonkind sentinel turned hermit. “No problem. What’s my pay?”
“That’s the best part. You get what I need, and then you steal his gold. That you keep.”
Treya froze. “Only someone insane would steal a true-born dragon’s gold—”
“Are you calling me insane?” Ice coated Dom’s voice.
Without a doubt, Treya itched to say, but refrained from voicing her opinion. She needed the work more than a fight at the moment. “I’m saying I’m not.”
“So, you don’t want this job?”
“I didn’t say that either.” The idea of her and Jacey having their own home and never having to worry about where the next meal was coming from was a huge draw. She could kill swiftly and easily, but her skills weren’t practical, and bringing home a steady paycheck had proven difficult. Often, she barely brought enough home to feed one of them, let alone two.
“What’ll it be? I was told you have a little brother to take care of. I’m sure there’s much you could do with a pile of gold.” Dom stared into her. “What’s his name? Jay? No, Jacey.”
Treya’s back stiffened, and the dragon inside her rose. “You or anyone touches him, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“You get me what I want, and you won’t have to worry.”
Treya hated that she was reduced to little more than a thief, but Jacey depended on her. Her little brother meant the world to her
, and she didn’t trust Dom not to hurt him if he didn’t get what he wanted. Blasted men, they were all users. “How much gold?”
“A cave large enough to comfortably hold twenty large dragons.”
That was a lot of gold, but doable, providing she could find somewhere to keep it all. “And you just want this tiny piece of tech? None of the gold?”
“Correct.”
“That is …” She refrained from saying insane, though it was. Utterly. “Why?”
Dom shrugged. “I am … very comfortable and have no need in that area.”
Treya resisted the temptation to snort aloud. Still, she couldn’t help thinking of how this would help her and her brother. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
“That’s the answer I wanted.”
Dom’s slow smile sent a shiver through Treya. Somehow, her life had just changed. For the better or worse was yet to be determined.
Chapter 2
Hope
Treya went from one realm to the next, scoping out places to stash the gold. Hope and excitement filled her as she exited the Bicily portal.
Not a very advanced realm, most of the villages were set along the various lakes, so as to give them a supply of fresh water. A thick jungle lay beyond the settlements and rugged, moss-covered mountains. Which kept most of the people away from the mountains—and suited her need for secrecy just right.
Treya teleported to a far mountain and studied the mossy peak.
She drew on her dragon senses and scanned for interior caves.
Within moments she had located a bunch, only to dismiss them as too small. Then she found the perfect one—shielded behind a wall of thick foliage.
