Dragon Protectors: Shifter Romance Collection

by Lola Gabriel

  “I’ll take that as a no; she doesn’t discuss her past with you.”

  “Wilder, you’re half freaking me out and half annoying me,” Cassia told him truthfully. “Moreover, I really don’t want to discuss my mother with you.”

  “Why not?”

  She glared at him. “You don’t know when to quit, do you?”

  “I can’t quit,” Wilder told her seriously. “This is not something I can let go.”

  Cassia peered at him pensively, the combination of consternation and curiosity getting jumbled in her gut. “Okay, enough with the mystery. What is it?”

  Wilder inhaled and reached for her hands. “I can’t tell you. I have to show you, or you’ll never believe it.”

  Her eyes narrowed warily. “You’re trying to get me to join a cult or something, aren’t you?”

  He guffawed. “Not likely,” he replied. “I’m really far too busy for all that meditating.”

  “Then what is it?” Cassia insisted, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m not going anywhere until you at least tell me where it is we’re going.”

  Wilder inhaled a deep breath, and when he exhaled, it covered her warmly.

  “Trust me, Cassia, you need to see this to understand before I can explain it better to you. Do you trust me?”

  It was a loaded question for Cassia. She didn’t know this man, but he had this hold on her like she had never felt or known before. She was certain he wasn’t an ax murderer, or she wouldn’t have slept with him. She had spent two full days with him, and he hadn’t ever tried to touch her. She had no reason not to trust him.

  “I do,” Cassia confessed. “I do trust you. I just…”

  Wilder arched an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I have a bad feeling I’m not going to like where you’re going to take me.”

  His eyes clouded again, and he shifted his eyes away.

  “That might be true,” he agreed. “But it is something you need to see. If you decide, after I take you there, that you never want to return, that will be your choice. But you need to know such a choice exists. Do you understand?”

  “Not at all,” she answered brightly. “But I’ll go with you. Where is this place? What is it called?”

  “We call it the Hollows,” Wilder said. “It’s your original home.”

  7

  Wilder eyed Cassia through his peripheral vision and wondered for the umpteenth time if he was doing the right thing. He didn’t have the slightest idea about why her parents had fled the Hollows, and for all he knew, she could be walking into a bad past.

  They stood at the access portal in New York, and Cassia cast him a bemused but worried smile.

  “This is New York City,” she offered dryly. “It is not very hollow.”

  “Come on.” He took her hand and slipped behind a church through a seedy alley. He felt her resist.

  “Wilder, where are you taking me?” she demanded, sounding slightly anxious.

  “We’re almost there,” he promised.

  “It’s in a dumpster?”

  “Just bear with me, Cassia.” He led her through the laneway until they found themselves in a back parking lot, encased in brick. Wilder kept walking until he touched the east wall and pressed on one of the bricks. The wall gave away as he knew it would.

  “What the hell?” Cassia gasped. “How did you do that?”

  “Come on.” Wilder pulled her into the darkness, and again, her body tensed terribly. “Trust me, Cassia. I’m not going to hurt you.” His words seemed to put her mind at ease, at least long enough for her to be led into the portal where the darkness sucked in around them.

  “What is this?” Cassia asked again, fear making her voice quiver. Wilder moved forward, pushing against the inner wall, and it gave way, allowing them into the Hollows.

  Cassia froze in place.

  “Welcome to the Hollows, Cassia. I believe that your parents lived down here for a long time.”

  Cassia didn’t answer, her eyes adjusting to the greyish light of the cavern. She apparently didn’t know where to even look.

  “This is a sub world, removed from the one in which you were raised,” Wilder explained gently, searching her stunned face for some sort of reaction to his announcement.

  “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  “Why does it exist? Who made it?”

  Wilder chuckled mirthlessly. “This is as old as the Earth itself, Cassia. There are theories that it was birthed with the planet, billions of years ago. Some of us say that it was the base of everything else that happened around us, and only the strongest survived while the others scampered above before it was sealed. Some of us—”

  “Wait a second! Who is ‘us’? Who lives down here? How can anyone live down here?” Cassia whirled and looked at him. “You’re putting me on,” she laughed shakily, pointing at him. “Oh, you had me going for a minute, Wilder.”

  But the expression on his face told her that he was not joking, and Cassia’s smile faded entirely.

  “Answer my questions!” she choked. “Who lives down here?”

  “We’re an eclectic mix,” Wilder answered vaguely, unsure of how much to disclose when she was obviously overwhelmed.

  “An eclectic mix of what? Wilder, I’m starting to freak out!”

  “It’s okay. Let’s go back to the palace, and I’ll explain it better to you, all right?”

  “The palace?”

  “Just come with me.” He started away from the portal entrance, but Cassia didn’t move, her body apparently paralyzed. “Do I need to carry you?”

  She shook her head and took a step forward, her eyes widening as they moved toward the streets ahead.

  “This is a city!” she cried in disbelief. “I’ve never heard of anything like this!”

  “Well, you probably have but disregarded it as a conspiracy theory,” Wilder chuckled, leading her through the winding, ancient, and crumbling roads of the Trenches.

  “There’s a palace around here?” she demanded, wrinkling her nose. “I—” Then she screamed, cutting off her sentence, and Wilder turned to look where she had set her eyes. A troll and a Lycan walked hand-in-hand, the Lycan fully shifted. “W-what the hell?”

  “It’s okay,” Wilder told her quickly, giving the couple a warning look as they stared at Cassia warily. “She broke a nail.”

  Cassia scowled furiously, and the duo laughed.

  “Good one, Mr. Parker,” the troll snickered. They disappeared, and Wilder turned back to Cassia.

  “Okay, you can’t lose it, Cassia. You need to remain calm. You’re in no danger, especially not while you’re with me.” He took hold of her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. Cassia, though, didn’t return his grip. A foreign sense of panic gripped Wilder. Once more, he wished he’d considered what he was doing more carefully.

  Maybe she’s not ready for all this. Or maybe she already knew and suppressed it for some reason.

  It was far too late for second guesses, and Wilder was aware of it—it wasn’t like Cassia could un-see where she’d been, and he’d promised her answers, ones he knew she would demand to have. His plan had been to shift and fly them back into the palace, but he suddenly wasn’t so sure that Cassia would touch him if he did that.

  What the hell was I thinking, bringing her here? He knew what he’d been thinking. He’d been thinking about Lennox, Owen, Reef, and Keppler. He’d been thinking about the happiness they’d found with their mates. I wanted to bring her home. This was perfectly selfish.

  “Wilder… I want to go home…” Cassia abruptly stopped walking and peered at him. “Please. You said I could go home if I didn’t like it, and—”

  “We’ll be at the palace soon,” Wilder promised. “I know the Trenches is not the best area, but when you see the palace—”

  “Take me home!” she yelled, the fear in her face evident. “I want to go! Take me back!”

  “Cassia—”

  “NOW!” Her voice reverberated thr
ough the Hollows like a bullet, and Wilder shoved his protest from his lips.

  “Of course,” he mumbled. “There’s another access closer to the palace—”

  “I’ll go back the way we came.” Before he could stop her, Cassia bolted back in the direction of the portal, and he had to run to catch up with her.

  “Cassia, I know this is a lot to take in, but when I tell you who you are—”

  “I know who I am!” she cried. “I am Cassia St. John, twenty-six, realtor at Seaver and Sons! I have an apartment in Brick and a mom in a nursing home. I’m not a… a…” She inhaled sharply and looked at him. “What… what are you?”

  Ah. She finally seemed to understand.

  “I’m a dragon.” Wilder heard the way it sounded to his own ears, and he didn’t blame her for balking.

  “W-what do you think I am?” Cassia questioned.

  “I don’t think it, Cassia, I know it. And if you looked at me closely, you would recognize me as a dragon, too. We just know one another instinctively.”

  “You’re wrong about me.” She laughed nervously. “Obviously. You just said I should know a… a werewolf or monster or whatever the hell it is that lives down here, and I had no idea. So you’re either playing a very cleverly-crafted joke, or you’re wrong about me.”

  “I’m not wrong about you,” Wilder sighed. “I’m sorry you’re finding out this way, but it’s true. Ask your mother. She’s probably a sorceress, too. Who is your father?”

  “My mother is a sick old woman! She’s not a witch!”

  “Sorceress,” Wilder clarified, hoping she wouldn’t ask the difference. “And I’m telling you, she is.”

  Cassia glowered at him, shaking her head. “You’re wrong. Take me home.”

  “I’m not wrong. You wouldn’t have survived the portal if you were mortal. If I take you home, Cassia, you can’t ever bring anyone down here. You will kill them if you try.” Fear tinged her cheeks, and she visibly swallowed.

  “Get me out of here,” Cassia told him through clenched teeth. “NOW!”

  Wilder knew arguing with her was futile. She needs time to process this. I’ll leave her alone for a day to figure things out.

  “This way,” he said gruffly, and together they moved back through the streets. When they arrived at the portal, he went to step through, but Cassia shook her head.

  “I’m going back alone. Don’t try to stop me.” She moved too quickly and vanished before he could even form a word of protest.

  “Shit!” Wilder swore and sank against the walls of the cavern. A sprite appeared with her pixie friend, and the two paused to stare at him in surprise.

  “Everything okay, Mr. Parker?”

  Wilder couldn’t bring himself to answer because the answer was a resounding “no”. Of course, he wasn’t going to share his sentiments with a couple of strangers.

  “Yes,” he said instead, turning away from them. He took two single bounds and shifted into his massive dragon form, flying toward the palace.

  Now more than ever, he needed to find out about Cassia’s family and why they’d run from the Hollows.

  When he arrived, he found Dr. Fritz waiting for him, his myopic, ancient eyes nervous.

  “Mr. Parker!” he said, hurrying toward Wilder as the dragon transformed back into his mortal form. “I need a minute of your time.”

  “This is a poor opportunity to talk, Fritz,” Wilder growled. “I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

  “I don’t think this can wait, sir.”

  Wilder stopped on the stairs and looked at him. “What is it?”

  “Can we go somewhere a little more private?” Fritz suggested. “Somewhere we won’t be overheard? The matter is delicate.”

  Concern gripped Wilder’s gut, and he nodded curtly.

  “Come to my suite,” he instructed the seismologist, hurrying up the remaining steps toward his quarters. Wilder had a bad feeling about what he was going to hear, and the last thing he wanted was more bad news. They entered Wilder’s apartment, and Dr. Fritz closed the door behind him. “What is it, Fritz?”

  The vampire sighed deeply and shook his head. “I did as you instructed, Mr. Parker, and started doing measurements on the Hollows’ exterior walls.”

  “In one day?” Wilder asked in disbelief. “How much could you have possibly learned?”

  “I’ll show you.” Dr. Fritz produced a tablet and thrust it into Wilder’s hands, but when the dragon looked at the screen, he didn’t understand what he was looking at.

  “You’re going to have to walk me through this, Fritz. And quickly, please. It’s been a long day.”

  “The readings on the left are the measurements of the outer walls at my last exploration of the matter, two years ago. As I told you, they showed that the walls had decreased by two percent in the past thousand years.”

  Wilder shrugged his shoulders. “So what? The readings on the right show more shrinking?”

  “Considerably more, Mr. Parker.” Dr. Fritz pointed at the figures on the graph. “Mr. Parker, those are today’s readings.”

  Wilder held back an annoyed groan. “Seriously, Fritz, just tell me what you have to say about it and be gone so I can get some rest.”

  Sleep was the furthest thing from Wilder’s mind, but he didn’t want to spend the night discussing plate tectonics with Dr. Fritz, either.

  “Mr. Parker,” the vampire mumbled. “The walls are certainly closing in.”

  “At a faster rate?”

  “A much faster rate.”

  Wilder blinked and looked at him. “How much faster?”

  “They have closed another four percent since the last reading.”

  “Four percent in two years?”

  “And I think the rate is only increasing, Mr. Parker. Something drastic is happening in the Hollows, and if we don’t find a solution…” He didn’t need to finish his sentence.

  “How long do we have at this rate?”

  “It’s still hard to determine. I can’t tell if it was a fluke that it happened so suddenly or if this is something we can expect for the future.”

  “Well, you better find out!” Wilder told him.

  “I intend to, Mr. Parker. I’ll get to the bottom of this.”

  “If this continues this way, Fritz, how long do we have?”

  The scientist blinked twice and shook his head. “The destruction of property will be evident in weeks, with the walls closing in around buildings and taking out the landscape.”

  “Never mind the buildings. How long until we’re forced to the Sunside?”

  Fritz grimaced. “It’s hard to say—”

  Wilder was in no mood to dance around the issue. “Give me a ballpark, Fritz.”

  “Six months, give or take.”

  8

  Cassia’s heart hadn’t slowed at all, and the pacing she did about her living room was not helping matters in the least. In her mind, she went back and forth with what she’d learned—or not learned. On the one hand, she had convinced herself that what she’d seen was a trick, that Wilder thought he was playing some silly joke on her. But she knew in her gut that that wasn’t true, that the Hollows were real and that the creatures of her childhood nightmares existed.

  Her phone had not stopped ringing since she’d arrived back home, but Cassia ignored it. She had no interest in talking to anyone until she got her thoughts all sorted out.

  She also realized she shouldn’t have returned to her house in Brick. There were reminders of Wilder everywhere she looked, from the building lease on the glass table to his lost sock, which she located on the floor in the dining room.

  A dragon. He’s a dragon.

  For a minute, Cassia stopped moving about the living room, shaking her head in disbelief. Then, inexplicably, she began to laugh. How many years had she longed to know the truth about her family? She thought about the secrecy enshrouding her mother and how Lacy had flatly refused to discuss anything about her past.

  What is my father? Wh
o is he? Does he still live in the Hollows?

  It was a sobering thought.

  I need to speak to Mom, Cassia realized, and she bolted toward the door before she could change her mind.

  It was Saturday, and the nursing home was busier than when Cassia usually went to see Lacy. It had almost put her off from going, the idea of dealing with a crowd of people causing her stomach to flip.

  A part of Cassia wanted to scream at the people smiling and laughing, demand that they wake up and see what was going on around them. Of course, she just bit her tongue, and after she signed in, she made her way to Lacy’s room. To her chagrin, her mother was asleep.

  Cassia stared at Lacy’s peaceful frame, gritting her teeth. I can’t wake her up. She never sleeps.

  But she couldn’t deny the desire to do it was overwhelming. Instead, she made her way back into the hall and closed the door.

  “Are you Lacy’s daughter?” a doctor asked, startling her. Cassia hadn’t noticed the man appear before her.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “I’m Dr. Aaronson. I’m the resident physician. I got a message to call you regarding your mother’s medication, and I left you a message, but I didn’t hear back from you.”

  Guilt flooded her, and she exhaled slowly. “Sorry about that,” she replied. “I haven’t picked up my messages…”

  Cassia thought about elaborating on how hectic her life had become in a few short days, but she decided that a doctor probably wouldn’t have any sympathy for her schedule.

  “No problem,” Dr. Aaronson chuckled. “Are you done with your visit? We could chat now.”

  “Mom’s asleep,” Cassia said. “I’ll come back, so now is a good time, yes.”

  “Great. Let’s step out of the corridor. Saturdays are so hectic around here.” The doctor offered her a kindly smile, but Cassia was unable to return it. She followed him down the halls, passing half a dozen patients and their families in various states of visit.

  “Here we are.” Dr. Aaronson closed the door to his office and gestured for Cassia to sit. She almost refused, her mind still jumping like her pulse, but she forced herself to take the edge of a chair. “As you know, Ms. St. John, your mother is in the earliest stages of dementia. Most of the time, she is quite lucid, but there are several instances when she simply goes off about things that make no sense.”