The Dragon's Willing Sacrifice: a Dragon Shifter Romance (The Last Dragons Book 3)

by Ines Johnson

  The Dragon’s Willing Sacrifice

  The Last Dragons Book 3

  Ines Johnson

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  FREE OFFER: The Valkyrie’s Sacrifice

  Also by Ines Johnson

  Copyright © 2019, Ines Johnson. All rights reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. All characters, places, and incidents described in this publication are used fictitiously, or are entirely fictional. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, except by an authorized retailer, or with written permission of the author.

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition November 2019

  Prologue

  “Maybe if I add some pollen from a fairy’s anther it will act as a stabilizer.”

  Kimber watched as his brother Corun sprinkled some of the yellow bits of fuzz into the concoction. The multi-colored brew fizzed and bubbled. The elixir continued fizzing and bubbling until it spilled over the top. And then it exploded.

  Kimber jumped out of the way just in time to escape the dander shower. He managed to pull Corun back from his botched experiment. But not before the heat of the potion took off his brother’s left eyebrow.

  Corun hung his head. Not over his singed looks, but over his latest failure.

  Kimber would’ve hung his head too. That is if he’d ever expected the experiment to suppress the urges of their inner beasts to succeed in the first place. He did not.

  He bent down to help Corun clean up the residuals of another experiment gone wrong. It had been worth a try. Kimber appreciated his brother’s efforts. None of it changed the fact that they were all doomed.

  This should be a time of celebration for the twin brothers. Kimber and Corun had finally come of age. They were no longer considered fledglings puffing out exhaust fumes. As of the last moon, they were full-fledged dragons, with combustible blazes.

  A fat lot of good their glowing new statuses did for the brothers. Without any possibility of a female sacrifice on the horizon, they might as well still be newborn whelps.

  For centuries humans had brought their virgin females to the portal entrances of the Veil in exchange for gems and gold. Ever since Draco of the Tourmaline Weyr ran off with a Valkyrie the boundaries of the Veil had been cut off from the human world and the sacrifices the shifter males so desperately needed, not only to maintain their bloodlines but to maintain their dominance over their beasts. Without mates to soothe their animals, shifting between man and beast became difficult until the beasts began taking over the men’s bodies and not letting the male have the form any longer.

  Not that Kimber had ever looked forward to claiming one of the fragile creatures. He’d watched the light go out of his mother’s eyes as she’d held him in her arms. Even as a newborn whelp he had been fully conscious. He’d known that as his heartbeat grew stronger, hers grew weaker. But still, she would sing to him and his brother every day while in the womb.

  Even though she was facing certain death growing the beasts within her, she’d given them love. Kimber had never forgotten that feeling. It had changed both him and his brother. As he’d grown he knew he could never take a sacrifice. He could never consign an innocent woman to her death and then watch the light go out of her eyes as he cradled his whelps in his arms.

  His father had never cradled them. Gneiss wasn’t the touchy-feely type. He only cared about continuing his kind. Kimber often wondered if dragons even deserved to live with the havoc they wreaked on other lives.

  “Kimber.”

  Kimber looked up to find one of his younger brothers standing in the doorway. Rhoyl was big for his age with long arms and thick legs. All four of his limbs ended in claws. His torso was a patchwork of skin and blue scales. His leathery wings were folded at his back, resting against broad shoulders. Each day the dragon claimed more and more of his body. More and more, Rhoyl didn’t bother putting up a fight against the beast’s dominance.

  Kimber worried about his younger brother. The second born of triplets, Rhoyl had watched his mother being buried soon after their birth. He’d shifted into dragon form then and kept to the forest for days. They’d left him to grieve during that time. They left him to prowl during the nights now.

  There was nothing that could be done. No new sacrifices were coming. Dragons couldn’t go beyond the Veil. The Valkyrie were unmoved. Corun likely had the only possible solution; exploding potions. If that didn’t soothe the beasts then at least they’d all go out with a bang.

  “You have to come.” Rhoyl’s deep voice held a tone of terror.

  That’s what set both Kimber and Corun to running down the hall behind their brother. By the direction that they were headed, Kimber knew exactly what the matter was. They rounded the corner just in time to see Ilia, the third born of the triplets, fly through the air and crash into a wall. He’d come from the open door of Miyaoaxochitl’s room.

  Corun bent down to tend to his wounded brother. Rhoyl stopped just outside the door. Small puffs of smoke came from his nostrils. Gone was the boy. In its place stood a dragon whose girth took up the width of the hallway.

  Kimber stepped inside of Miya’s room. She was the only sacrifice to have survived the birth of her sons. But survived was not the best word.

  Miya lay in bed day in and out sightless, soundless. She was a shell. But a shell that all five of Kimber’s brothers took pains to care for.

  “You will not touch her.”

  That was Elek’s raised voice. The male was nothing but a fledging and he never raised his voice. Neither did he ever raise his fists. They were raised now as he stood in defense of his mother.

  Kimber took careful steps inside the room. The words weren’t for him. They were for the monster in the corner.

  “She can give me more whelps to carry on my bloodline.” Gneiss’ voice was so deep, so resonate, he made the walls vibrate. A crack splintered at the windowsill as he bellowed his next edict. “She belongs to me.”

  “Haven’t you done enough.” To the other side of Elek stood the eldest of the triplets. Even as a fledgling, Beryl was nearly as big as his father. When he was full-grown he would be a fearsome male. But now, he was dwarfed by their father’s colossal frame.

  “You simpering brats,” said Gneiss. “Our race is dying. She is but a human; an incubator, a vessel. It’s what they were meant for.”

  It was not. The Goddess who’d created them had never finished her little dragon project. She hadn’t made female dragons for the shifters to mate with. That’s why they had to resort to human women.

  But Miya had done enough. She’d born one of her two sons. And she’d kept her eyes open and her heart beating long after their births. It was more than any of them could have hoped for. And for that, for not bringing on the guilt an
d shame to his youngest brothers, Kimber would forever be grateful to her.

  Kimber joined the barrier of males blocking their father from the fragile human. If Gneiss took her again she would not survive a second birthing. She likely wouldn’t survive a second claiming by the monster that was their sire.

  His father’s eyes immediately landed on him. Disgust was in his cream-colored eyes. Loathing coated his tongue when he spoke. “Are you challenging me?”

  Kimber bit down hard. His sharp incisors cut into the soft flesh of his jaw. The warm, metallic tint of blood coated his tongue as he faced off against his father.

  Though his father was obsessed with producing more and more heirs, he held not a care for any of his offspring. No, in fact, he disliked each and every one of his sons.

  Gneiss viewed each male as defective. They cared about the women his father had won as sacrifices. They mourned their losses. They cherished Miya and her will to endure. Even if it were still a possibility, Kimber wasn’t sure any of them would ever take a sacrifice of their own.

  “You have enough sons,” said Kimber. “Miya has done her duty.”

  “Smell her. She’s ripe for one more go.” Gneiss’ hungry eyes racked over Miya again.

  Kimber thought he might have heard the woman whimper. His father took a step forward. His father was getting older, but his strength had not diminished. Kimber wasn’t sure he would win a hand to hand battle with the dragon. Still, he had to give diplomacy another try.

  “Why bring more dragons into a world where they may not get another female?”

  “This law of the Valkyrie can’t stand forever,” said Gneiss.

  Gneiss took another step forward. Kimber dug his heels into the ground. Behind him, his brothers did the same. They would each die defending the life of this woman. No matter what happened in the next moment, someone’s life would be lost this night.

  “Yoohoo.”

  They all turned to the window. A woman clad in blue battle armor sat in the windowsill. Kimber knew her to be Morrigan; a Valkyrie. She was assigned to the entrance of the Veil in their mountain. She often traded with the beings here in exchange for gems and trinkets. Valkyrie liked shiny things.

  “What do you want?” growled Gneiss.

  Dragons were the highest shifters on the food chain. But the Valkyrie were above the chain. By the way her eyes flashed at the old dragon, she clearly did not like his tone. Gneiss did not cower. Was the male ornery enough to incur a Valkyrie’s wrath?

  Morrigan cocked her head to the side, tilting it so far that the tendons in her neck cracked. “I have an answer to your little dick measuring contest here. Meet me downstairs.”

  She slipped off the windowsill and disappeared into the night.

  No one moved.

  None of the dragons were willing to go and see the Valkyrie’s wares if it meant possibly leaving Miya defenseless. And then it happened. A breeze wafted into the open window. Every nostril in the room flared taking in the scent that reached up to the third story window.

  Human. Female. Virgin.

  What was this?

  Their father was the first to leave the room. Kimber was on his heels. They all followed the scent, unable to help themselves. Only Elek stayed behind with his mother.

  Down at the back door of the castle, the Valkyrie was unloading a bag from a purebred dragon. The scent was coming from the bowels of the pack. So was a muffled voice.

  “Let me out. Let me out right now. I know karate.”

  The Valkyrie unzipped the bag and out tumbled what could only be described as a tiny, hell hound. The little cherub was pale-skinned and red-haired. Her little hands were balled into fists. Her face screwed up in a scowl.

  “I know the Veil is closed for human sacrifices,” said Morrigan. “But this one got tangled up in some business I was tending too. I couldn’t leave her, so I brought her here.”

  “You didn’t bring me here.” The tiny hound squared off against the Valkyrie who towered over her. “You kidnaped me. That’s against the law. Do you know who my father is?”

  “As a matter of fact, I do know who your father is. He’s in the other bag.”

  They all turned to the other bag on the dragon’s back. No sounds were coming from it. It was still, immobile, lifeless.

  Kimber didn’t spare the bag a glance. He couldn’t take his eyes off the prize just a few feet from him. Her face was heart-shaped, with a defiant chin that would fit perfectly in the palm of his hands. Her lips were a steady bow, slinging all manner of verbal banter that he couldn’t decipher. The incomprehensible words didn’t deter him from wondering what that parted slit would taste like.

  “Since you lot are the last of the dragon shifters, I figured you might want her,” said Morrigan.

  “Wait? What? Dragons? Dragons aren’t real. Are you on crack or something? You should just say no.”

  The girl put her hands on her hips. Again, Kimber followed the motion. Her hips weren’t wide enough for breeding. Not yet. But they were wide enough for him to slip between them and test her heat.

  “How much?” said Gneiss.

  Kimber looked over to see the greedy smile spread across his father’s face. The girl was young. Not old enough for a claiming, but he could see by the sandy glow in his father’s eyes that the man didn’t care.

  Mine, Kimber’s dragon growled.

  Kimber stepped in front of the girl, fists clenched, teeth bared as he blocked her from his father’s view. Gone was any thought of diplomacy. It looked like someone would be dying tonight after all.

  Chapter One

  “Your hair is the color of running blood from a pierced heart.”

  As pick up lines went that wasn’t the best. But Cardi didn’t have anything else to compare Izem’s attempts to. She’d never been hit on before. Unless you count the time Gneiss had said her hips were good for breeding. Which she didn’t count.

  “Your eyes are the blue of a fish whose been caught on a hook.”

  Okay, so he wasn’t Corey Haim.

  “If you were a Transformer, you’d be Optimus Fine.”

  Not quite Feldman either. Still, it was better than no complementary lines. That’s what she was used to getting in her current relationship.

  Kimber barely spared her a glance most days. Unless it was to tell her to tug up her shirt to cover her bra straps. Or to put leggings on underneath her skort. Or to tone down the fuschia gloss on her lips.

  The dragon she was bound to seemed to prefer it when she was in flannel, pigtails’ and a bare face. Cardi only dressed that way when she had sleepovers with Miya and they watched all the movies Madonna had ever starred in; Desperately Seeking Susan, Shanghai Surprise, and Who’s That Girl.

  Shanghai Surprise was Cardi’s favorite since the Material Girl starred with her true love and hubby Sean Penn. Cardi couldn’t get enough of watching the opposites-attract love story. It could totally be her and Kimber. If he was a misunderstood con man and she was a missionary nurse.

  Izem scooted closer, bringing Cardi’s attention back to the present and her first real courtship.

  Her midriff was bare and on display in this outfit. Izem’s golden gaze slid from her flat belly to her long, lean thighs. His lips curled up as though he saw something he wanted to nibble on.

  Cardi could smell the raw male of him. A tendril of fear curled her belly. She’d never been this close to a male before. Well, except for the dragons. But they didn’t count. They’d adopted her as their little sister. None of them looked at her the way Izem did. With hunger.

  Would he bite her?

  She’d been bitten before. Long ago by Kimber when he’d won the right. He hadn’t touched her since. He’d certainly never looked at her with hunger in his eyes.

  “You shouldn’t sit so close. Kimber will be here any moment and he won’t like it.”

  “Do you like it?”

  Did she? She wasn’t sure. She’d only had eyes for Kimber. But he often rolled his when she ca
me into a room. Or when she opened her mouth to speak. Or when her name was brought up in conversation.

  “He doesn’t appreciate you. If you were mine I’d have claimed you long ago.”

  Izem stretched his hand behind her just like in a movie. It was like she was on a real date. His paws curled possessively over the cap of her shoulder. One flick of his claw and the bra strap would break and fall away revealing her flesh.

  “Just because he marked you doesn’t make you his. I believe in a woman’s right to choose her mate.”

  If she was a young naive girl, she’d have swooned in Izem’s embrace. She would be fake-protesting as he kissed any sense out of her and divested her of her clothing and virtue.

  Cardi wasn’t naive. She’d been born into a family of manipulators back in her world. She’d had Grandpa Ponzi wrapped around her pinky finger by the time she could talk. Dragons had become putty in her hands by her second night in the Veil. This lion cub didn’t know who he was dealing with.

  “You just want me for my womb,” she said.

  Izem didn’t skip a beat. “That’s what my mother wants. You know me better than that, Cardi.”

  “Do I?”

  “Do you want to?” He leaned in. “What do you want?”

  No one had ever asked her that. All her life she’d been given whatever she demanded. From her crook of a father who fulfilled his sickly daughter’s every fancy to keep her quiet. To Kimber who passed along any request for clothes or entertainment or foods from her old world to Morrigan the Valkyrie to retrieve for her. All to keep her quiet and placated. She had more than she’d never needed. But what was it she truly wanted?