by Starla Night
Onyx Dragons: Amber
7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires
Starla Night
Copyright © 2019 Starla Night
All rights reserved.
Cover design by Earthly Charms.
Created with Vellum
Contents
Special Thanks
Amber
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
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
What’s Next?
Also by Starla Night
About the Author
Special Thanks
Thanks to Brea Essex, Kate Downs, and Allison Walker for making Amber and Darcy's story even more awesome!
Blurb
He’s the only man who threatens my inner peace.
And losing my temper would mean war.
I’m a calm dragon shifter until someone brings out my inner monster.
Darcy is fearless.
His charm drives me crazy.
But he teases me like there would be no consequences.
As the CFO of an alien corporation, I can’t afford to make mistakes.
Mistakes that would kill my family and lead to planetary destruction.
Now, the time has come to prove that I have control over my temper.
They have threatened the treaty between dragons and humans.
The fate of this Earth is riding on my shoulders.
I can’t let the fire crackle from my hair. Not now.
And the only thing that’s coming in the way of my victory?
Darcy.
The man of my dreams... and my biggest nemesis.
Amber
Amber is fossilized resin. It is rare.
~ From the Larousse Guide to Minerals, Rocks, and Fossils [1977] by Hamilton, Woolley, and Bishop.
Chapter One
Please don't leave. Please don't leave. Please don't leave.
Amber raced into the abandoned alley in Portland, Oregon, to the bar where her brothers were celebrating. It was the first and only time they had invited her out, and she'd gotten lost.
Please don't leave.
The human map directed her around a corner. She slowed, searching the slimy brick for a seam. Festering pools dripped beneath rotten dumpsters. Her footsteps echoed.
Another set of footsteps matched hers.
The hair on the back of her neck stood up.
She whirled.
Nothing.
Her heart thudded. Urgency pulsed in her veins. She tightened her grip on her Hermes leather handbag and slowly turned back to the brick wall...
Oh, there was the corner!
She squeezed between two dumpsters into a narrower alley. Her maroon Mary Jane's crunched broken glass.
Wind moaned above the narrow space but no air disturbed the claustrophobic stone. Overhead, low metal trellises closed over her like bars. The moon disappeared behind the jagged buildings.
Footsteps sounded again. Off-rhythm echoes and a slide that couldn't possibly belong her.
The alley closed in on a dead end.
No!
An even smaller, tighter corner hinted at freedom. She began to run. Amber whipped around the corner—
Rusty chain link blocked the exit.
She stopped. Her heart pounded in her chest. Every instinct urged her to flee. Rush the fence. Go. Now.
On the other side was an empty parking lot. Plastic bags rustled like the warning rattle of a cobra. The lone streetlamp flickered and went out, plunging her into darkness.
The footsteps sounded again. Speeding up.
Even though she wasn't walking.
Amber whirled and braced her Hermes bag in front of her. “Is someone there?”
No answer.
The footsteps stopped. Movement whispered in the shadows. Someone positioned to strike.
And then ... nothing.
Was it all in her head? Or did the moaning wind disguise a heavy pant?
Amber didn’t have time to play in the dark. But she also didn’t want to call attention to herself. She slid one foot forward, testing the uneven concrete, and tensed.
Her phone jangled.
Amber jumped and fumbled the phone to her ear. "H-hello? Hello?"
"Amber, you answered. What an unexpected pleasure."
Relief rushed through her.
"It's not a pleasure, it's a phone call." She swung her handbag over her shoulder, smoothed her turtleneck, and suppressed the tingle Darcy always made her feel. The alley no longer looked so dark and confining. "And I didn't realize it was you. What do you want?"
"Straight to the point, as always." His voice pitched low and his audible smile teased her senses. "The party's breaking up. Are you still coming out?"
Panic squeezed her chest. "Don't leave! I got lost."
"Where are you?"
"I followed directions to The Punk Underground."
“Why? We’re at Funk & Grounds. It's a daytime coffee house and nighttime bar." His tone changed. "Hold tight. I'll come to you."
"No! If you leave, everyone else will, too." Amber stalked the chain link for an exit that didn't require plunging into total darkness.
“You’re not safe. They closed the bar a decade ago and the neighborhood was bad then.”
"Okay, but don't leave."
"Amber—"
"I'm hanging up."
"Don't!"
She held the phone away from her face, finger hovering over the button to end the call.
The streetlight flickered on again, casting dim light on the nasty black grime. Oh, thank goodness, she could see.
"Amber!" Darcy sounded tinny from her arm's distance. "Amber, don't hang up. I'll stay, just talk to me while you walk."
"Yes, sure," she told the phone, holding it in front of her, "the light's come on again, so..."
A stringy man blocked the alley.
She jumped and squeaked. "Oh, goodness. You startled me."
"...Amber? Amber, what startled you?..."
The man slouched. A hoodie shadowed his face.
Amber clutched her purse to her chest and tried to edge past him. "Excuse me."
He waved a rusty box cutter in her face. "Phone. Purse."
"What?"
"...Amber, I'm coming..."
He smacked her hand holding the phone.
Amber dropped it. The screen went black and Darcy's concerned voice cut off.
"Purse."
She ignored him. "My phone!"
The blade zipped. He sliced the leather handles.
"My purse!" She grabbed her bag.
He nicked her chin.
She stumbled back. "Ow."
He followed and slammed her into the brick.
Her breath whooshed, and she couldn't suck it back in. Amber's mouth gaped.
The man grinned. He slid the blade across her shirt. The turtleneck parted to reveal her breasts. He pockete
d the knife and unbuttoned his grimy jeans.
Adrenaline poured into her body. Her heart pumped, blood sang, fingers trembled. She got her breath back. "No!"
He smacked her forehead.
But she was finally coming to her senses.
Amber's neck muscles tightened.
Her head didn't tap the brick.
The man didn't notice. His pants dropped to his knees. He wasn't wearing anything underneath. He pushed up her pencil skirt.
She stepped forward, forcing him back a step. "I said, no."
He brandished the box cutter.
Adrenaline flipped into rage. He'd wrecked her shirt. He'd wrecked her purse. He might have wrecked her phone. "You’re making me late to a party.”
His nostrils flared with rage.
He lunged and stabbed her right in the chest.
The box cutter bounced off.
He lifted it in confusion.
The blade was bent.
On her chest, diamond-hard amber dragon scales shimmered, protecting her human skin.
His wide eyes lifted to her face.
She knew what he would see.
Fire crackled in her auburn hair. Light glimmered in her mouth. Heat pooled deep in her throat. Her body strained the seams of her clothing.
Her voice pitched an octave lower. "You've ruined everything."
The puny man backed away. "Wh-what are you?"
"I'm a dragon... and..."
He turned to run, tripped on his still-lowered pants, and hit the concrete. He rolled and scrambled, scurry-crawling like a wounded cockroach.
Heat erupted from her mouth in a blaze of fire.
"I'm furious!"
Chapter Two
Amber had begged Darcy to keep Pyro at the bar, but Darcy was two seconds away from dragging Pyro out over his shoulder. And since Pyro had fifty pounds of dragon muscle over him, Darcy was in for a fight.
He leaned against the smooth wood and tried the diplomatic approach. "Hey, we have a situation. Amber's in trouble."
Pyro held up a finger while he knocked back the last of his beer. "Yeah."
He signaled across the nightclub to his company's security officer, Syen. The security officer turned on his heel and left the dance floor, his girlfriend in tow.
Pyro kissed his wife's cheek. "Stay here."
Amy clutched his arm. "Are there anti-dragon cultists?"
Amy's former roommate, Melody, and Melody's boyfriend Josh formed a protective guard around her. They'd seen first-hand what could happen when Pyro was kidnapped.
"No." Radioactive red pyrochlore gleamed in Pyro's eyes. "Not if they know what's good for them."
She fussed over his collar. "Stay safe."
The bad boy dragon kissed her again and whispered something in her ear that made her cheeks flush. She smiled at him, reassured.
Syen's colorful girlfriend, Eva, joined the group. "Last shot! Does anyone want to try to the new Mermaid Bubbles? I'm buying!"
Happy agreement lightened the group as Eva took their final orders. Her cascade of tropical peach-yellow-aqua-pink curls made her stand out in any crowd.
Syen nodded at Pyro. His dark sunglasses reflected his dangerous occupation. Together, the two dragons moved to the door.
Darcy was way ahead of them. He held the club door to the street. "So you're tracking Amber, right?"
Syen flew into the sky without answering.
"Right?"
Pyro threw his arm around Darcy's shoulders, and they lifted off the ground. Portland fell away from beneath their feet like they were in a glass elevator. The bar patrons pointed and gasped.
"With Amber, it's complicated," Pyro said.
"What do you mean, complicated?"
"She's a female dragon." Pyro reached cruising altitude and hovered. "She doesn't get the same protections as a male."
A hard ball formed in Darcy's stomach. "So you don't know where she is right now?"
"Syen does. Or he will when he checks the head office security station."
"So Amber could be attacked in an alley and you'd have no idea where she is?"
"Of course I'd know."
"How would you know?"
Smoke puffed against the gray night sky.
Pyro focused on it. "Because the alley would be on fire."
A burst of hot orange flames licked up the side of the decrepit buildings.
"Bilgefire." Pyro snapped his cell phone to his ear. "She's hot, Syen. Call Mal."
Fire trucks wailed as they activated across the city and converged on the hot spot. Pyro waited at a safe distance.
Earth had only just learned that it wasn't alone in the universe, and humans were still adjusting to the change. Their planet had been surveyed in the Middle Ages and dismissed as a resource-poor backwater at the edge of the Dragon Empire.
Then, five years ago, dragons had returned to set up shop.
Intergalactic shops, actually.
The shocking arrival of spaceships disgorging human-looking people who could shift into dragons had caused a stir, but afterward, almost nothing had changed. The few hundred dragons who made their homes here were interested in human art, music, food, and culture.
Specifically, in exporting it to the rest of the hungry shifter universe.
Being stuck in one form had forced humans to get creative. While the universe brimmed with epic technology, the shifters wore beige-gray color palates, ate bland stew, and listened to white noise.
Earth culture had gone off like a galactic glitter bomb.
Pyro and Amber were part of a company that exported human clothing. They'd recently been targeted by human conspiracy theorists who believed nefarious lizard aliens controlled and impersonated world leaders.
This was totally wackadoodle.
Darcy had more sympathy for their delusions since actual shapeshifting reptile aliens had landed. But Darcy's friends cared more about the intergalactic silk market than backwater Earth politics.
Which left the question of who or what had attacked Amber.
Darcy's chest squeezed.
The firetruck pulled up to the alley. Another wailed down the block.
Pyro hovered at a safe distance.
"What are you waiting for?" Darcy demanded. "Amber needs help."
Pyro lifted a scarred brow. "You're kidding, right?"
"No."
"Amber's fine." Pyro swooped and landed across the street from the emergency vehicles. Black marks scorched the surrounding buildings. Fire smoldered in dumpsters and belched greenish-blue smoke. "She's a dragon."
Yes, Amber was a dragon. Her scales were nearly indestructible. She handled greater extremes of pressure, heat, and cold than any human. And she could fly, shift forms, and breathe fire.
But she was still a woman.
Darcy pushed off Pyro and crossed the street.
An ambulance blocked his path. The back doors opened. Attendants rushed a gurney into the alley.
His heart pounded in his throat.
No. Please, no.
Darcy started to run.
Pyro landed in front of him and smacked a palm on Darcy's chest. "Slow down."
"But the man threatened her—"
"And he's the one getting loaded into the ambulance."
A gap between emergency vehicles confirmed Pyro's truth. A man moaned as they strapped him.
Pyro cut his fiery red eyes to the police car. "Let her cool."
Amber was speaking to a police officer. Her arms crossed over her chest, her chin lifted with defiance, and smoke blew from her nostrils. Black soot smeared her conservative white turtleneck, beige pencil skirt, and white tights. Her disheveled amber locks strayed around her neck.
She looked ruffled but unhurt.
Relief slammed into Darcy like a fist. His legs started to shake. He oriented on her.
Pyro stopped him again. "She's mad."
Amber saw them. Her chin trembled. She glanced away.
Darcy shouldered past Pyro and
went to her.
"Darcy." Amber's liquid eyes flashed with pain before returning to her usual calm. "You came. After I asked you to—"
He kept on walking right up to her and enfolded her in his arms.
She stiffened in surprise. "—stall everyone."
"I'm sorry." He held her firmly. The warmth and vitality of her small, lithe, fiery body in his arms convinced him more than any assurance. She was fine.
Her chin bumped his chest and the crown of her head fit where he'd always known she would. He closed his eyes. The scent of cinders meshed with charred brick and concrete.
Her fingers patted his forearm awkwardly. "Why are you sorry?"
"Because I should have called you sooner."
"I told you not to."
"Since when do I listen?"
She fell silent. After a moment, she leaned into him.
He held still like he was being touched by a unicorn. Amber was a dragon, but she'd spent the last year rebuffing him. She felt so good in his arms. Right. He could live in this moment a thousand years and it would pass in an instant.
Except he wanted to peel off her shirt and taste her skin with his tongue.
The officer cleared his throat. "We're about done."
Amber pulled back. "Will you beg Pyro to extend the welcome party?"
Darcy released her reluctantly. "Are you serious?"
"Of course." A long seam across the front of her turtleneck flopped open, revealing the smudged upper curve of her breast.
He blinked. "You still want to go out?"
"Yes." She pinched the edges of the cut, retrieved a portable sewing kit stowed in the body of her damaged purse, and threaded a needle. "He barely touched me."