Sold To The Dragons (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1)

BOOK: Sold To The Dragons (A BBW Paranormal Romance Book 1)
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SOLD

TO THE DRAGONS

A BBW Paranormal Shifter Romance

 

 

AMIRA RAIN

 

 

Copyright
©2015 by Amira Rain

All rights reserved.

 

About This Book

 

 

In a dystopian future, fertile women are so hard to come by that they are now bought and sold for huge sums of money across the world. You could say that women are the new currency.

Curvy Kira Southerly is one of the few remaining fertile women left on the planet and she has resigned herself to the fate of being
SOLD.

 

However, she had no idea she would end up being sold to two young and handsome bachelors named Blake and Steven. They are both dragon shifters and they are intent on mating with her and producing a baby as soon as possible.

 

With not enough fertile women to go around the brothers have no choice but to share the curvy beauty among themselves. Something that allows Kira to fulfill her every sexual fantasy....

Being sold to dragons should not be this much fun, should it?

 

 

ALSO BY AMIRA RAIN....

 

HER LION GUARD (LION SHIFTER ROMANCE)

 

After stumbling upon an underground community of shifters within an abandoned warehouse, Mary-Lou knows she has to run for her life. They smell blood and they are coming after her.
She runs and runs right into the arms of the strong and handsome Jonas. Jonas has the ability to shift into 500 pounds worth of lion and he insists he is there to protect her curvy frame.
He tells her that she has something that they want, and they will stop at nothing till they get it. If she wants to survive she must allow him to become her Lion Guard...
 

START READING THIS NOW, CLICK HERE

 

**

 

 

 

A BURDEN TO BEAR

 

When Sarah meets the man of her dreams she feels that everything is finally going right. Wilson is perfect for her in every way and, most importantly, he loves her curvy frame. His stunning good looks make it easy to understand why any woman would fall head over heels for a man like him.
However, Sarah's best friend Douglas feels like something is not quite right about Wilson and his suspicions lead him into discovering the dark secret that Wilson is hiding. A secret so dark it could mean Sarah's life is in danger.
Only problem is, in order to save her Douglas must also reveal
SHOCKING
secrets of his own.....

 

START READING THIS NOW CLICK HERE!

 

 

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CHAPTER ONE

C
HAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

 

    I was going to make a run for it. I was going to save myself from being purchased like a piece of meat. I had a small switchblade knife hidden in my pants pocket, and I was pretty sure I could use it to stab and slash my way out of the auction hall. I could at least try, and I suddenly felt like I had to. After that, if I
did
make it out, well, I wasn't sure what I'd do next. Maybe try to hide from my father in the forests bordering the town. Maybe try to contact him and beg him to agree not to sell me.

 

But first, I was going to have to wait a minute before I attempted my escape. There were currently two guards at the auction hall exit, specifically for young women like me who might try to make a run for it. Though one of the two guards, a tall, very heavyset man, had been periodically going over to a refreshments table during the auction to refill his cup and little plate, and I imagined he might do so again. And that's when I'd make my move. When there was only one guard at the door.

 

It boggled my mind. There were actually refreshments at the auction. At an auction where young women were bought and sold like any other commodity.

 

Two other young women and I, still standing on the raised platform at the front of the hall, were being sold because we'd undergone medical examinations that had revealed us to be fertile. Since female fertility was so rare, and since most of the population was so desperately poor, our families had decided to sell us to wealthy men who wanted children so that their family lines could endure.

 

Almost immediately after the doctor had issued the paperwork declaring me fertile, my father, whom I still lived with, even though I was twenty-two, had announced that I would be sold at the yearly auction. I had agreed to be sold, because our family was so poor that my two little brothers, ages twelve and ten, often went hungry. And if I went for a high enough price at auction, they might never have to go hungry again.

 

But now that I was actually standing on the auction block, I was having second thoughts about my decision to so readily agree when my father had announced that I'd be sold. Most of the well-dressed men doing the bidding and purchasing in the auction hall were decades older than me, and they were all stern-faced and appeared completely humorless. I couldn't stand the thought that I'd have to possibly be married to one of them for the rest of my life, would have to
sleep
with one of them for the rest of my life, at least until I was beyond my childbearing years. The thought was making me feel more than a bit panicky. Growing up, before I'd known about my fertility, I'd always hoped that I might marry a man I found attractive, which didn't seem unreasonable to me. Not a man old enough to be my father or even my grandfather.

 

While the young woman that had just been purchased was led out of the auction hall, silently crying, by a stern-faced man at least three decades her senior, the auctioneer picked up his microphone again.

"Next up, the beautiful, curvy brunette on the far end of the platform closest to the doors. Name...." He glanced down at a paper on his podium. "Name: Kira Southerly, age twenty-two. Miss Southerly is healthy and rarely ill, and by the looks of her, she'll bear strong, attractive, healthy children. Her papers, verifying her fertility, are available for inspection if any of you purchasers would like to take a look."

 

My
papers
. As if I were an animal. I felt humiliated. I felt degraded. I had to run. I had to flee. I couldn't just allow myself to be sold. Fortunately, the heavyset guard had just taken another stroll over to the refreshments table along one side of the hall. Sliding a trembling hand into my pocket and closing my fingers around my little switchblade knife, I decided to make my move. It would be now or never.

 

The auctioneer spoke into the microphone again. "Starting bid for the beautiful brunette, Miss Southerly...and this will be a record for this auction hall...is two-and-a-half pounds of gold."

 

A collective gasp-slash-murmur rose from the crowd of a hundred or so people sitting in chairs beyond the platform, and I relaxed my grip on my knife. Maybe I wouldn't have to escape. Maybe I wouldn't even be sold after all. Two-and-a-half pounds of gold was an absolutely staggering sum of money. I doubted even any of the well-dressed men in the hall would be able to afford that amount.

 

Though suddenly and strangely, the tiniest little part of me wished one of them would. If I were actually sold for two-and-a-half pounds of gold, my father and two brothers would be able to eat off that money for the rest of their lives. My brothers, when they married, would probably be able to feed their wives for life, too. The prospect of that would possibly even allow them to snag wives medically deemed "possibly fertile," like our mother had been. Because of my sacrifice, my brothers might have a slim chance at having children.

 

But, despite all this, when the first bidder, a gray-haired man of at least seventy, raised a hand in acknowledgment that he'd pay two-and-a-half pounds of gold for me, panic took hold of me once again.

 

The auctioneer dipped his head in a nod, looking at the man. "We have two-and-a-half pounds, right here from the gentleman in the black suit. Do I hear two-and-three-quarters?"

 

Another older man, this one with a shiny bald head, immediately raised a hand, and I tightened my hand around my knife. It was now or never, and I was going to do it. I was going to escape.
I
was going to control my own destiny. I wouldn't allow myself to be sold as a brood mare for some sour-faced elderly man old enough to be my grandfather. I took a deep breath, preparing to sprint. I'd whip out my knife and flick open the blade just before I reached the exit doors. I didn't want to hurt anyone, and I knew I could never kill, but I
would
take a few fast slashes at the guard if that's what it took for me to make my way out of the hall without being caught. And I knew I'd have only mere seconds to pass the guard before my father would probably chase me down himself.

 

But just then, while I exhaled my deep breath, already lifting one foot an inch or two off the platform to run, I saw something that made me stop dead in my tracks. My littlest brother, the ten-year-old, wasn't even paying any attention to the auction. He had his head turned, surveying the heavyset guard, who was still piling his little refreshments plate with food. And actually, my little brother wasn't so much surveying the
guard
as the guard's
plate
and the food being heaped on it. The guard had already helped himself to some little cakes, fruit, and large cubes of creamy, pale yellow cheese. Now, with a little smile of obvious enjoyment and anticipation, he was using tongs to load a slice of bread with thick cuts of what appeared to be chicken or turkey.

 

Wide-eyed, my little brother licked his lips. The food was only for the auctioneer, the guards, and the men bidding and purchasing. Not for the families of the young women being purchased. Not even for the young women themselves.

 

It had been weeks since my family had had any kind of meat to eat. We hadn't even had cheese. The only source of protein we'd had was eggs from our hens. And there hadn't even been many of those. What few there were each day, I'd cooked and given to my brothers and father, saving only one for myself every other day. For my own meals, I'd have just potatoes, sometimes with a slice of bread. I'd always had a soft, curvy frame, but I could tell that in the previous weeks, I'd lost a couple of pounds.

 

After a long moment or two watching my little brother eying the food on the guard's plate, I set my foot back down on the platform, relaxed my hold on the knife, and pulled my hand from my pocket. My
empty
hand. No knife. I'd abandoned my plan to escape. The thought of my little brothers going to bed with full bellies that night had smothered all thoughts of my personal freedom and happiness.

 

The bidding for me was now up to four pounds of gold, a mind-boggling sum of money. My father was practically bouncing out of his seat. The previous young woman sold had gone for a half-pound. The girl before her, a pound even.

 

The auctioneer, who had decades of experience, determined the starting bids himself, based on a young woman's medical report and fertility, her appearance of health, and her beauty. I'd always been extremely healthy, though I'd never thought of myself as particularly beautiful. Though, I conceded, maybe I'd just been too busy trying to survive to realize it. There had never been a lot of time for mirror-gazing with vegetables and eggs to sell, two very energetic little brothers to look after, and an often-surly father to keep house for.

 

However, that wasn't to say that I didn't enjoy womanly adornments or trying to keep myself up. In my spare moments, I liked to style my long brown hair in different ways and see how different pieces of jewelry looked with each style. I'd just never had many spare moments. Not to mention that the only jewelry I'd ever been able to purchase had been items made from tin covered with dull silver or gold paint that quickly peeled.

 

In response to a bid of six pounds and three quarters of a pound of gold for me, the auctioneer now asked if anyone would like to bid seven. This sum for a fertile woman was absolutely unheard of. I knew that the record for a winning bid was four pounds even, set decades earlier.

 

For just a second, there was complete stillness and silence in the auction hall. But then, an older gentleman in an impeccable coal-gray suit raised a hand. "Eight and let's be done with it."

 

A collective gasp rose from the crowd seated for the second time that day. Nearly outright panting with excitement, my father whipped his face from the auctioneer to the gentleman in the dark gray suit.

 

This man had kept right up with the bidding the entire time, seeming to become increasingly irritated each time he was outbid. And now, with his dark eyes narrowing, he surveyed several men sitting near him, as if daring anyone to do it again.

 

Nobody did.

 

The auctioneer banged his gavel on the podium. "Sold! The beautiful, fertile Miss Kira Southerly, to the gentleman in the gray suit, for a record-breaking sum of eight pounds of gold. Best wishes to you both."

 

And just like that, it was over. I'd been officially sold. My personal freedom and autonomy, at least what little I'd had while living with my father, was gone.

 

While the crowd murmured, a petite redhead standing next to me on the platform turned her face to me and spoke in a low voice. "Best of luck. Not that you'll probably need it. He'll probably treat you very well since he paid so much money for you."

 

Something bitter-tasting rose in the back of my throat. I'd been purchased. I'd been
bought
. I couldn't think of what to say to the red-haired girl in response, but I was determined to keep a brave face.

 

So, I gave her the tiniest of smiles, holding my head up high. "I hope you're right. And best of luck to you, too."

 

Everything after that somehow felt strangely like it was happening with painful slowness, yet at warp speed at the same time. While everyone in the crowd talked among themselves, the man in the gray suit rose and gave a large black box to the auctioneer, who immediately took a handful of gold coins from it, his commission, and weighed them on a scale while my father watched; he then gave the black box with the remainder of the coins to my father. Then, my father gestured to the refreshments table and gave the auctioneer an additional gold coin, apparently buying the very considerable amount of food still left.

 

Only vaguely aware of my heartbeat hammering in my ears, I watched while my father began guiding my little brothers over to the refreshments table, already smacking his lips. But, both of their gazes on me, my brothers resisted. And, one right after the other, they tore over to me, hopped right on up on the platform, and wrapped their wiry little arms around me.

 

David, the ten-year-old, buried his face in my side. "Thank you, Kira. Thank you for the food we're about to have. But we're gonna miss you. We're gonna miss you lots."

 

Feeling the boniness of his arms around me, I couldn't believe I'd even considered attempting to escape being sold. I couldn't believe I'd considered it even for a second. Not when my family needed food so badly.

 

Suddenly misty, I hugged David and my other little brother, Noah, back.

 

"You're very welcome. And I'm going to miss you both, too. So much."

 

Noah looked up at me, frowning. "Do you think you'll be able to write?"

 

Only the very richest people in our town had telephones. The rest of us had to make do with communicating by letter. Which would have to do, since I was sure I likely wouldn't be living close enough to my little brothers to visit. I knew it, and they knew it, too. Being that our town was a fertility "hotspot" for some reason, as some people said, the men who came to the auctions came from thousands of miles around. Our town usually produced at least five to ten fertile young women a year. Other towns of similar size might produce one or two, if that.

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