Dragon's Mate: A DragonFate Novel (The DragonFate Novels Book 4)

by Deborah Cooke

  Dragon’s Mate

  A DragonFate Novel

  Deborah Cooke

  Deborah A. Cooke

  Dragon’s Mate

  By Deborah Cooke

  Cover by Dar Albert of Wicked Smart Designs

  Copyright © 2020 by Deborah A. Cooke

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright preserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright holder and the publisher of this book.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Dragon’s Mate

  The DragonFate Novels

  Dear Reader

  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

  Epilogue

  Sign up for My Newsletter, Dragons & Angels

  About the Author

  More Paranormal Romance

  Dragon’s Mate

  The DragonFate Novels #4

  Her kiss will shatter realms…

  Dragon shifter and artisan blacksmith Hadrian is determined to strengthen his fellow Pyr warriors in the battle against the Fae by forging them talons of steel. He won’t be seduced by the sensual promise of a firestorm that has to be a spell—even to help a beautiful warrior escape the clutches of the Fae Queen.

  Rania is a swan-maiden and Fae assassin, who has made a deal with the Dark Queen’s will to break the curse over her brothers. All she needs to do is kill Hadrian, but this dragon shifter won’t die easily. It’s more than dragon vitality that helps him survive her lethal kiss, but Rania refuses surrender to his potent touch for any price when so much hangs in the balance.

  But the Dark Queen’s betrayal compels Rania to ally with the vital dragon shifter in a last-chance effort to save her brothers and herself. Can Hadrian unfurl the painful secrets of Rania’s past to give them a future? Can Rania help Hadrian to realize the power of his own legacy to defeat the Fae? When barriers between realms are destroyed, can love conquer the obstacles between these destined mates—and create a new world for their unborn son?

  The DragonFate Novels

  Paranormal romances featuring dragon shifter heroes

  1. Maeve’s Book of Beasts

  2. Dragon’s Kiss

  3. Dragon’s Heart

  4. Dragon’s Mate

  To learn more about Mel and Raymond’s backstory, you might want to read An Elegy for Melusine, my retelling of a medieval fairy tale.

  To learn more about Micah and Rosemary, you might want to read my short story and vampire romance, Coven of Mercy.

  To learn more about the other Pyr and their stories, check out the Dragonfire Novels.

  Dear Reader

  Dragon’s Mate is the third paranormal romance in the DragonFate novel series. Dragon shifter Hadrian feels the spark of his firestorm as the Pyr are preparing for a final battle against the Fae Queen—only to discover that his destined mate is a swan maiden and an assassin sent by Maeve to kill him. Hadrian also needs to harness his legacy as an ice dragon to see the day saved, and Rania holds the key to that. Hadrian and Rania’s romance is a battle of wills and an enemies-to-lovers story, with the lives of her bewitched brothers hanging in the balance. Rania trusts Maeve completely, since the Fae Queen has raised her, but Hadrian knows that Maeve will break her promise to Rania. I loved watching these two gradually learn to trust each other—it’s no spoiler that Maeve does betray Rania, but will Hadrian and Rania be able to work together to defeat the Fae Queen’s plan? This book was a roller coaster ride to write and I hope you enjoy reading it.

  At this point, I’m not sure whose story is next in the series. I’m going to work on the possibilities and will put the next book up for pre-order after it’s completely. Please subscribe to the blog on my Dragonfire website or sign up for my newsletter to make sure you don’t miss the next DragonFate novel. My dragons all live on this website:

  http://DragonfireNovels.com

  Look under the DragonFate tab for resources specific to this series. Visit the Pinterest board for DragonFate to see some of my inspiration for this book and for the series as a whole.

  There’s also a new DragonFate List of Characters on the Dragonfire website, which will be updated after each addition to the series.

  To keep up to date with my books, please sign up for my monthly paranormal romance newsletter, Dragons & Angels. You’ll hear about sales on ebooks, be notified of new releases, and have the chance to download free bonus content exclusively for subscribers.

  I hope you enjoy Hadrian and Rania’s story!

  Until next time, I hope you stay well and have lots of good books to read.

  All my best—

  Deborah

  Prologue

  Saturday, November 30, 2019—Vermont

  The moon was so new that there was only a tiny slice of silver in the sky. Thorolf was watching over his fellow Pyr, Alasdair, who continued to struggle with nightmares after being tormented by the Dark Queen. Thorolf’s son, Raynor, and mate, Chandra, were both asleep as midnight approached, and Alasdair was, too.

  Being on watch had to be the most boring job ever. There was nothing on television, because Kristofer’s farm was so far out in the country, and Thorolf had surfed the ’net on his phone long enough. He was in the kitchen, wishing there were more chips, and debating the merit of driving into the closest town to get some.

  Even out here in the sticks, there had to be some shop open at night. This was America, after all.

  And Thorolf had a serious case of the munchies. He felt like he hadn’t eaten for a week, even though that wasn’t the case at all. The Pyr had dined like kings at Thanksgiving, thanks to Rhys’ amazing skills in the kitchen, and there were still leftovers. It was all healthy, though, and Thorolf yearned for salt and fat. His body, he was convinced, needed regular infusions of junk food.

  The night was still, but then, it probably always was out in the country like this. Nothing had happened in the paranormal realm since Rhys had busted out of Fae with his mate. There hadn’t even been a good dragon fight since Thorolf had gotten to town. He was restless as well as hungry.

  Thorolf could see Rhys’ truck from the kitchen window. The keys were on the counter, as if to tempt him. How long could it take? Down the driveway, drive a couple of miles into town, find a place and return. Twenty minutes, if he drove faster than the speed limit. Thirty, tops. He’d pick up some new kind of pickle for Chandra. The dragonsmoke barrier around the house was thick and d
eep—he’d breathed it with the other Pyr and thought Kristofer had insisted on it being excessive. He understood, though, the need to protect a pregnant mate. Chandra was starting to show, too.

  What could go wrong in half an hour?

  No one would ever know, if he hid the empty bags from the chips.

  His choice rationalized, Thorolf was tugging on his boots when Alasdair awakened with a scream of anguish. “They’re coming,” he cried, seizing Thorolf’s arm so hard that it hurt. “They’re coming!” Before Thorolf could ask what the heck he was talking about, Alasdair raced out to the patio, leaving the door open behind him. He shifted shape in a shimmer of blue, becoming a dragon of hematite and silver, soaring into the night as he breathed a brilliant plume of fire.

  What was that about? Thorolf swore, torn between responsibilities. Should he follow Alasdair or remain on guard? He hated when he needed to be in two places at once: there was no good choice. He peered into the sky, still able to discern Alasdair’s silhouette.

  Why hadn’t that scream awakened anyone else?

  “Dude!” He called Hadrian in old-speak. “Your cousin’s AWOL.”

  “What was that?” Quinn rumbled sleepily. “What’s wrong?”

  “What? How?” Hadrian demanded from the other end of the house.

  Thorolf could hear footsteps, but Alasdair was disappearing fast. Despite his injuries, that Pyr was making good time, wherever he was going. Where was he going?

  “Alasdair!” Thorolf cried, wishing he could cast his old-speak better. He jumped when Chandra touched his arm.

  “Go,” she said softly. “We have the dragonsmoke barrier.”

  Thorolf knew the dragonsmoke barrier wouldn’t stop the Fae, so he hesitated. “Are you sure?”

  Chandra nodded, her gaze trailing after Alasdair. “The other Pyr are here. Go before he’s lost.”

  Thorolf didn’t delay any longer. There was another brilliant shimmer of blue light on the patio as he shifted into a dragon with moonstone and silver scales, then he lunged into the sky. “Alasdair!” he roared in old-speak. “Get your sorry butt back here!”

  But Alasdair seemed to be flying to the moon. He didn’t respond or slow down, much less turn back.

  At least he had back-up. Thorolf felt the presence of another Pyr and glanced over his shoulder to see Hadrian’s emerald and silver scales gleaming in the moonlight. A team effort. Thorolf liked that. Hadrian wasn’t just Alasdair’s cousin and the closest of all the Pyr to that dragon, but he kicked butt. Between the two of them, they’d get Alasdair back to safety.

  With the excitement, Thorolf even forgot about chips.

  The Circus of Wonders was parked in an empty lot on the lower East Side of Manhattan, between performance locations. The tents were packed away and the trailers were nestled close together, as if huddling against the winter wind.

  Rosanna, who ran the Circus of Wonders, couldn’t sleep. She felt a prickling on the back of her neck, the same kind of premonition she often had when a shifter in need stumbled into the circus. Those interactions weren’t always easy, as the abused or hunted tend to be slow to trust. She paced in her trailer, smoked half a pack of cigarettes, and waited impatiently.

  It was in the early hours of the next morning when the assault came out of the blue.

  Or out of Fae, as it were.

  There were a dozen blinding flashes of silver light, all occurring simultaneously throughout the makeshift camp. Before Rosanna even got the door of her trailer unlocked, several propane tanks had exploded. Trailers were rocking, many in flames, and she heard the screams of trapped friends. She ripped open the door to find wolves with their tails on fire, Fae warriors slaughtering whoever they could reach, corpses on the ground, and too much blood.

  Fae warriors couldn’t be mistaken for any other kind, with their blond good looks, taut bodies and ruthless savagery. Their weapons shone with an eerie silver glow, one that Rosanna had learned to despise.

  Ivan—the biggest of the bear shifters—reared over a Fae warrior and snarled, taking a swipe at the intruder with one lethal claw. The Fae warrior danced backward, moving quicker than light, then stabbed Ivan in the gut with his dagger of silver fire. Another two Fae warriors jumped Ivan from behind, slitting his throat and stabbing him in the back.

  Ivan’s mate, Natasha, and his twin sons, Bernard and Helmut, joined the battle in their father’s defense, but it was too late. Ivan staggered, and the Fae flung him into the harbor before slaughtering the rest of the family. It happened so quickly and was so vicious that Rosanna was shocked.

  Worse, there was carnage everywhere she looked. Djinns flitted through the battle in agitation, and even they were slashed to ribbons. The air shimmered blue as circus members shifted shape, and more explosions rent the air as trailers burned.

  Animals were being released, but those that couldn’t shift shape—the elephants, tigers, monkeys and snakes, among others—were uninjured, at least. Their freedom would make trouble for the circus, though, and Rosanna worried that they’d be hurt. The automatons were all running even though they weren’t plugged into any electrical source, spilling music and patter into the air in a crazy cacophony. Lights were flicking on and off all over the camp.

  Rosanna shifted to her demon form to join the battle. No sooner had she stepped out of her trailer than a Fae warrior ambushed her from one side. His blade sliced one of the horns from her head, then he vanished into a silver sliver of light. She felt her own blood on her cheek and was sickened.

  She knew with complete certainty in that instant that her cousin, Lilith, was dead. Rosanna shivered, hating her gift of foresight in that moment, then was furious.

  How dare Maeve choose who would live and who would die?

  Rosanna shouted and jumped into the fray, kicking the knife out of one Fae warrior’s hand. He spun and snatched it up, then slashed at her. She ducked, he flashed past her and struck down a werewolf, then turned on her again. The Fae moved like lightning, cutting down shifters on all sides, until one, obviously the leader, gave a shrill whistle.

  “Leave the rest,” that Fae said. “Someone has to be a warning to the Others that remain.” He laughed and the warriors returned to the portals they’d sliced between realms. “Alaska calls.”

  Alaska? What—or who—was in Alaska?

  The Fae vanished as one, sealing the portals and leaving bloodshed and death behind them.

  The entire attack couldn’t have lasted a minute.

  Rosanna could hear sirens in the distance—the last thing she needed was trouble with human authorities, but there wasn’t enough magick in the world to make this disaster disappear. She saw Caleb run into the park in his wolf form and stop cold to stare. He was fast, but he hadn’t been fast enough to make a difference.

  The Circus of Wonders had to pack up and move, and they had to do it immediately.

  Something was wrong.

  Wynter could smell trouble, and her nose was the sharpest in her pack. Not that her skills meant much in a wolf shifter pack—her gender meant she could never be alpha and as much as that bit, the defense of the pack was the responsibility of everyone.

  She rolled out of bed silently and rose to her feet, listening. The Alaskan pack slumbered in Kirk’s big log lodge, each wolf shifter in his own room, many with their mates. The house was filled with the sound of steady breathing.

  She heard someone inhale and moved to the doorway of her room. She could see Logan’s silhouette in the great room below. He was standing guard this night and must have sensed something as well. As she watched, he prowled toward the windows that overlooked the forest. Wynter took a step forward and he spun to look, his eyes gleaming in the darkness. She froze.

  When Logan saw that it was her, he smiled and beckoned, obviously thinking that what he’d heard was her approach.

  Just as obviously, he assumed she was coming to seduce him. Logan had the original one-track mind. Just because he was her brother’s second and believed a mating b
etween their families was the ideal choice didn’t mean that Wynter agreed. The last thing she cared about was Logan’s ambitions. She was going to wait for her destined mate, following her brother’s example. It might be a joke that they were both chaste, but Kirk’s strategy made sense to Wynter.

  She shook her head and saw Logan’s eyes narrow at some minute sound. He pivoted and she knew he was going to shift shape, but he never had the chance.

  It all happened so quickly.

  There was a flash of silver light directly behind Logan, like a slit had been cut open in the air. A blond man stepped through the gap, as if he had opened the zipper on a tent flap. He was tall and broad, tanned golden, and built like a warrior. Wynter recognized that he was Fae.

  She shouted a warning, and shifted shape, taking her Arctic wolf form.

  Logan would have shifted to a timber wolf, but the Fae warrior’s dagger flashed, slicing Logan from gullet to groin in one powerful stroke. It was a strange weapon, one with a blade that looked like a silver flame. Wynter would have distrusted it even if she hadn’t seen how lethal it was. Logan fell lifeless and bleeding to the floor and was kicked aside by the warrior.