Destined Dragons: BBW Paranormal Romance (Dragons of New York Book 3)

C
opyright
© 2015 by Terry Bolryder

All rights reserved.

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G
entry
, purple dragon and leader of the New York region of dragons, woke up in a cold sweat, heaving hard breaths as the vision from his mind faded slowly into the darkness around him.

A second later, the door to his bedroom swung open and light filtered in from the hallway. His work partner, Sterling, whom he’d been teamed with for many years, was watching from the doorway.

“What’s going on?” he asked. “You were screaming.”

“Was I?” Gentry asked vaguely, rubbing his temples and wishing he could forget what he’d just seen. At the same time, he knew he couldn’t forget or someone would die. Someone important to the dragons. There had been screaming in his dream all right, but it hadn’t been him.

He got out of bed and strode to the window to look out at the lands surrounding their castle-like mansion.

Sterling was wearing gray pajama bottoms with no shirt, his short, silvery hair glowing in the low light of the room, his silver-blue eyes unmistakably worried.

“What did you see?” he asked, and Gentry waved a hand.

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t mean to wake you. It can wait until morning. I don’t think it’s happening for a good while yet.”

“What’s
not
happening, then?” Sterling said, coming up behind him and putting a hand on his shoulder. “I know you’ve seen some terrible things, but I’ve never heard you make noises like that. Don’t make me go inside your mind.”

Gentry laughed quietly. Sterling was the only dragon who could read dragon minds without permission. Then again, Sterling had many unique powers when it came to the mind. “All right, I’ll tell you, then. Sit down.”

Sterling sat smoothly in a chair that faced the bed, and Gentry sat on the end of his bed, folding his hands in his lap. He admired Sterling’s ease of movement. Everything the man did had a silky quality to it, fluid and graceful, despite his powerfully muscled body.

Sterling was extremely overprotective of Gentry, but it made sense, given their history. Gentry knew if he didn’t tell him what was up, his partner really would make good on his threat to read his mind. Not that he had anything to hide from Sterling, but he wouldn’t wish the things he saw in his visions on his worst enemies.

“They’ve got a dragon-heart. And they’re going to kill her. Horribly,” Gentry said gravely.

Sterling uncrossed and crossed his legs, the only sign of his unease. He widely claimed to care only for Gentry, but Gentry knew Sterling had a kinder heart than he let on, even if he was sort of the type to rely more on his mind than his feelings.

He felt the usual amount of awe as he studied his partner’s beautiful face while he thought over the situation. Despite being together for hundreds of years, Sterling, like most dragons, hadn’t aged beyond his prime in his mid-twenties, retaining the peak of his physical beauty. Gentry felt and looked a little older, mainly because of the wear of so many years of stress and visions. But he guessed most people would only guess them a few years apart—Sterling in his late twenties, Gentry in his early thirties.

“We’ll have to rescue her,” Sterling said, leaning back in the chair and looking out at the night. His lantern was on the ground, and in the darkness, the silver-blue gleam of his irises matched the light of the full moon.

“Why?” Gentry asked. Of course he agreed, but he wanted to hear Sterling’s reasoning and see if it lined up with his own.

“First, it’s our duty, as I’m sure you know. Second, we need a mate to complete our triad. The other two pairs in our region have one, and as leaders, we should be the strongest, not underpowered. A dragon-hearted mate will bring us a third power, which is invaluable with what is happening in the shifter world.”

Gentry nodded. Rogue wolf shifters, angry at the dragons for interfering in illegal or forbidden activities, had begun conducting experiments with dragon blood, kidnapping dragons to steal it. It had come to a head when wyverns (shifters infected with dragon’s blood to form small dragons) had kidnapped the mate of another pair of dragons, Drake and Quill, the red and blue.

Gentry still remembered bringing their little mate to his apartment. He’d been surprised by how pleasing the thought of keeping her for their own was, but unfortunately, she’d been set on the other dragons, and said dragons had broken down his door in their efforts to reclaim her.

He sighed and thought about the woman in the dream. Could he take her for a mate, look into her eyes, knowing he’d watched her die? Would he ever lose the images? Nevertheless, he knew Sterling was right. They had to get her.

Sterling’s reasons were more Machiavellian, as usual. He wanted the dragon-heart for her power as much as he wanted to save her from danger. Gentry just wanted to make sure the horrible images in his vision never came true.

He clicked on the lamp by his bed and gestured for Sterling to come over. He pulled a notepad out of the drawer and grabbed a pen and started drawing. “I’ll show you what I saw, and you can help me figure out where it is.” When he finished the sketch, he handed it to Sterling, who looked it over with narrowed eyes.

“I don’t need to figure it out. I already know.” He set aside the sketchpad. “We’ll set out at first light tomorrow. Do you know for sure when it will happen?”

Gentry shook his head. “I got the feeling it wasn’t immediately. But based on what they did to her, I don’t want to wait around and see.”

Sterling nodded. “First light.” Then he turned and walked out of the room, assured that Gentry was fine and he’d taken care of him.

Gentry turned off the lamp and slumped back in the bed, silently wishing Sterling had stayed. It was nice having a partner who cared and took care of things. But sometimes he wished for more, someone to talk to, someone to lighten the mood.

Maybe a mate really would be a good idea. Someone to fill all the gaps in their lonely castle.

R
oxy never thought saving
someone’s life would result in being kidnapped.

It all started two weeks ago when she’d rescued that man on the subway.

Someone had gotten belligerent, and a man stepped in to stop him from harassing others. As his reward, he was thrown onto the track in front of an oncoming train.

Roxy had stared in shock as the others around her murmured nervously or screamed for help, but only for a second. The next thing she’d known, she was running for the track and reaching in to help the other man out, paying no attention to the train as she used her weight as leverage, hoping to complete the rescue before she herself fell in or the train arrived, squashing them both.

She’d been successful, pulling him back just in time to land with a thud on the concrete just as the train had flown by, blasting the horn.

The police arrested the would-be murderer, who had tried to run, and she’d been labeled a hero in the press.

In a city known for being uncaring, every little bit of good news had to be shared everywhere.

It wasn’t long after that her kidnappers showed up at her front door, pretending to be press.

She looked around the dank basement where she was being held. So much for being a hero.

Still, while she regretted the publicity that had allowed her to be targeted, she didn’t regret what she’d done. Dying under that train would have been infinitely better than living and knowing someone had died when she could have saved them.

She just didn’t understand who would target people who were brave enough to save others.

The men who came to get her had been good-looking and incredibly tall, with white flashing smiles and slightly wolfish demeanors. Despite their nice clothing, she sensed something predatory about them. Something she didn’t like. They’d taken her to a nice house and then quickly led her to a dank, unfinished basement, hiding her from the world.

So far, they’d been feeding her, though nothing that tasted good and not nearly enough.

Roxy loved her food. Loved cooking it, loved tasting it, loved watching shows about it.

She’d been working nights at the convenience store near her small apartment for years in order to save for tuition for cooking school. She was nearly there. Nearly to what she and her dad had wanted.

She just wished he could have been around to see her be a hero. He’d died of a heart attack years ago, when she was barely an adult, leaving her alone in the world.

She’d never known her mom. She only knew she’d died when Roxy was born, and her dad never fully got over it.

So she really was alone in the world. And aside from her regulars at the convenience store, and perhaps her boss and coworkers whom she’d never really gotten along with, no one would know she was gone.

She sighed and leaned back against the cold wall. She wished she knew what they intended to do with her. She had so many recipes she still wanted to cook. Things she wanted to learn.

Places she still wanted to go.

The heavy door that was the only entrance to her dark basement room creaked and slowly opened. She sat up, ignoring the chain they’d placed around one ankle.

“Who is it?” she called out. “What are you going to do with me?” It was probably just someone bringing food, and even though they’d never answered her before, she had to try again. Maybe someday her pleas would break through.

She heard low voices talking in whispers and pulled herself up against the wall, trying to see them through the darkness. No food was slid in, so perhaps they really were coming to see her.

A moment later, the door swung open and two unfamiliar men walked into the room, seeming to light up the darkness. The one in front was breathtakingly handsome, with thick, waved brown hair and glowing purple eyes underneath long lashes. He had a boyish look to him, but there were lines around his eyes that bespoke a serious nature beneath it all. He was tall, even taller than the men who had abducted her, but there was none of the predatory feeling about him that they had.

The man next to him was striking in a different way. He had light silver hair cut short and severe. His lean features and long, straight nose were contrasted by large, shimmering silver-blue eyes that reminded her of a moonlit night. And he had full, sumptuous lips, the only softness in an otherwise very hard face.

His bearing was cold and analytical. He studied her like she was a science experiment gone wrong and he just needed to figure out the missing ingredient.

Suddenly, she felt self-conscious of her predicament. She was muddy and dirty from being thrown in here. Her cropped hair with its little corkscrew curls stood in wild disarray. Any makeup she’d been wearing was long gone, and she probably stunk to high heaven.

Just the way she wanted to be when meeting two of the most beautiful men in the world.

She heard a chuckle of amusement from the other man, the one with purple eyes. Purple eyes, was that possible?

The man brushed a wavy lock off his forehead, and Roxy caught a glimpse of a perfect dimple in his lightly tanned cheek as he stifled a smile. “Sterling, she likes you. Imagine that.”

The other man, Sterling presumably, scoffed. “She’d probably like anyone coming to rescue her from this hellhole.”

Her heart jumped. “Rescue?” she asked. “Then you’re not coming to kill me?”

Gentry raised an eyebrow at her, and Sterling stuttered in indignation.

“Kill you? Why would we kill you?” he asked. “What gave you that idea?”

She shrugged, holding up her hands in defeat. “I don’t know why I’m here, but I assumed that was the end game at some point. I mean, they didn’t try to assault me, even though they could have. So I figure since there’s no way they could get a ransom, they were planning to kill me at some point.”

“What reason would they have to kill you?” Gentry asked, stepping forward with folded arms that showed off massive biceps.

Damn, if she was going to be rescued, this was definitely the way to do it. If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up.

Gentry laughed again, though she didn’t understand why. “It’s flattering, but not really what we should be thinking about at the moment, human.” He bit his lip as if he’d said something wrong. “What’s your name?”

“Why did you call me human?” she asked.

“No reason,” he said. “You’re a human.”

Despite his charming demeanor that probably had most people eating out of his hand, Roxy wasn’t fooled. “The only reason someone would usually call someone human is if they were different from them.
Not
human.”

Sterling snorted again. “I like this one.”

Really?
she thought. If the cold glare he appraised her with was affection, she didn’t want to know what he did to people he hated.

“Sterling is just like that,” Gentry said, as if reading her thoughts. “Now, we better get out of here. We incapacitated some of the wolves holding you, but others are asleep and will wake soon.”

She nodded, walking forward, but then the chain on her ankle jerked taut, nearly tripping her.

She looked up at them with apologetic, embarrassed eyes. “I can’t.”

Gentry knelt next to her, studying the chain, and then took it in his hands and broke it.

Just went ahead and tore the darn thing in half.

She looked down at the circle around her ankle, completely detached from the chain, and then at Gentry, eyes wide. “What are you?”

“Nothing that would harm you,” Gentry said, scooping her up in his arms.

She gasped. “I can walk.” She was a curvy girl, and she didn’t want to slow anyone down.

“Nonsense,” Gentry said, keeping his hold on her. “It’ll be easier this way. Dragons are great at being quiet.”

Sterling sighed and put a hand to his head, and Gentry just grinned. “My bad, I’m not used to interacting with humans, obviously.”

“Clearly,” Sterling said dryly.

“Besides, I see no reason to hide things. It would just make it more of a shock when we get there,” Gentry said.

“
If
we get there,” Sterling said, checking his watch. “At this rate.”

“So let’s go,” Roxy said, keeping her hands wrapped around Gentry’s warm neck. She was glad to feel safe again, and in Gentry’s large arms, she felt light as a feather. “I need to be out of here. I’ve been here for days.”