Dragon Redemption

by Amelia Jade

  Dragon Redemption

  Ice Dragons Book 2

  By Amelia Jade

  Dragon Redemption

  Copyright @ 2018 by Amelia Jade

  First Electronic Publication: April 2018

  Amelia Jade

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.

  All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.

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  Author’s Note

  Hold on!

  You should know that while this series can be read independently, it is part of a large world that was started with the Crimson Dragons series. You can continue through, as each book contains a full story arc with happy endings for the characters, but to get the full experience of the Outsiders Universe, you should really start at the beginning with Dragon Temptation.

  I hope you enjoy! - Amelia

  Crimson Dragons

  Dragon Temptation

  Dragon Seduction

  Dragon Devotion

  Onyx Dragons

  Dragon Fixation

  Dragon Obsession

  Dragon Addiction

  Ice Dragons

  Dragon Eruption

  Dragon Redemption

  Dragon Redemption

  Chapter One

  Ivore

  He was on edge.

  There were more dragons at the party than he’d ever seen gathered in one place. It was a powder keg just waiting to go off. A recipe for disaster. Ivore counted nine dragons including himself on the premises, and there wasn’t a plethora of single women to divert their attention.

  Of course, the majority of them were mated. All of them, actually, except for Ivore and his older brother Caine. Every other shifter present was paired up, most of them nearly inseparable from their mates.

  He watched an ash-blond shifter walk by, his mate at his side, their arms linked together. Ivore knew the pair well. Colonel Mara was the military officer that had been present when he and his brothers had been awakened, and who had overseen all of the lessons they’d been given to bring them up to speed on language, history, and much more. She was okay, though her mate Kallore was a bit of a brute.

  Ivore laughed to himself. They were all brutes, beasts out of their own time, awoken centuries after they’d fallen into the deepest of sleeps, something akin to a coma. Many had done so willingly, wanting to escape their pasts, or tired of seeing all their friends age and die out time and time again. The long lifespan of a dragon didn’t mean much if you were spending it alone.

  He and his brothers had reached the future with a slightly different path. Ivore glared at his youngest brother, Cowl. The three of them had been engaged in their semi-regular feats of strength, using their ice dragon powers of ice and snow to one-up each other. Cowl had taken the top few hundred feet of snow on a mountain and inverted it, so that the snow looked like the top half of an hourglass.

  When he’d set it back down, he’d not taken the proper steps to ensure it stayed put. The resulting avalanche had buried the three brothers in thousands of tons of ice and snow. Normally they could have used their powers to get them out, but they were all drained. A short nap to recover had turned out to last six centuries.

  Six centuries. Six hundred years. It was remarkable that they were alive at all. The humans were really quite desperate to go to such lengths as reawakening dragons into a world from which they’d left. Ivore snagged another mug of beer from a passing server, taking a dragon-sized sip of it as he thought about it some more.

  At a table nearby several other dragons that he didn’t know were chatting. Ivore wondered if now was the time to be bold, to go and introduce himself. After finishing their courses at the military base, Colonel Mara had begun stuffing all the dragons into the same apartment building downtown, affectionately renamed The Dragon Towers. So they were neighbors. He should probably be polite.

  He took in a deep breath of air, preparing to make conversation, but before he could, something in the air nearly knocked him on his ass. Honey and sweetness. A combination he’d smelled before, and only recently. She was here.

  Ivore spun, searching the parking-lot patio, but there was no sign of her. He stalked across the makeshift party area in front of Mcguivers Pub. Of course she would come here. Her roommate practically owned the bar she worked here so much. He needed to find her. There was something he needed to tell her, and only her. He couldn’t hold it back any longer.

  His eldest brother Caine appeared out of the crowd and Ivore snatched at his arm. “Have you seen Violet?” he asked, panning the crowd continually while he waited for an answer. There weren’t that many people here; she had to be somewhere.

  “Have I seen whom?”

  Ivore cursed his brother. Useless. “Never mind.” He headed off.

  They were at the bar to celebrate both Cowl and Andria and its grand reopening after it had been ransacked by angry wolf shifters.

  He was happy his brother had found a mate, thought it irked him that the youngest had paired up first. After all, wasn’t the middle sibling supposed to be the greatest of them all? The eldest was strong-headed and sure of his righteousness, and the youngest was a shit-disturber that got away with everything. The middle child was perfect in all ways. That about summed up his family. In Ivore’s opinion. His brothers might disagree.

  A thorough search of the outside revealed that Violet was nowhere to be seen. Growing increasingly frustrated, he decided to head inside. Almost nobody was in the bar; instead they were outside enjoying one of those gorgeous fall days that are all too rare.

  The sun was shining with nary a cloud in the sky, a lovely high-seventies temperature with enough of a breeze to keep them comfortable in pants and a shirt, but not strong enough that it brought a wintery chill. Most were dressed in jeans and short-sleeve shirts, not even in need of sweaters yet.

  Ivore took the four stairs up to the entrance in one giant leaping bound, eager to get inside and find Violet. He pushed open the door, so intent on searching for her that he nearly took her out.

  She cried out and stumbled backward in an attempt to get out of his way, her drink going airborne as she lost her grip, her arms flailing.

  Ivore took this all in with uncanny speed, his brain working faster than the situation. His reflexes kicked into gear and he slid neatly in between Violet and her drink cup, lifting her back to her feet.

  “There, all bett—”

  At that moment the drink crashed on his head, rolling off the back and down his shirt. Liquid soaked his hair, running down his neck and between the muscles of his shoulder blades. Ivore stood still, eyes closed as he tracked the slow descent of the liquid, the cool wetness spreading as more of his shirt a
bsorbed the drink.

  Dying of shame, he opened one eye a crack to see if Violet was still there. She was, staring up at him in shock, perfect almond-shaped eyes open wide, her pouty lips spread just a crack.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m—”

  Then it slipped down his butt crack.

  Ivore shivered at the sensation, but forced himself to carry on. “I’m fine. A little wet and,” he flicked his tongue out, capturing some of the liquid as it ran down his face, “and a little too sugary for my tastes, I think.”

  Violet giggled at his joke.

  The sun emerged over his personal little world and suddenly everything was okay again. Ivore relaxed. “Sorry for your drink. Any chance you can let me buy you another?”

  “The drinks are free today.” She studied him. “You haven’t been paying for them, have you?”

  He shook his head, his attention fixated on her face, particularly the pair of whiskey-brown orbs that demanded his focus. “No, but I was hoping you might ignore that and let me anyway. For pity’s sake. It might help curb my embarrassment.”

  She laughed, a throaty, easy-flowing noise that was magic to his ears. Every time he heard it his mood improved. “Oh come now. You were the one that came charging in here like a bull who’d just spotted a red blanket.”

  “Or a purple one,” he murmured as they headed for the bar.

  “Pardon?”

  “Nothing.” He looked at her, noting the way the dimmer light inside the bar didn’t show off the purple dye in her hair very well. It was a shame, because the one time he’d seen it in brighter lighting he’d fallen in love. Just about.

  Violet joined him at the bar, her short frame meaning she could comfortably rest her arms on the bartop without having to bend over. Ivore had to nearly fold in half to achieve the same pose. So small, and yet so utterly adorable.

  He paused a half-step behind her, admiring the thick, round lines of her rear and legs. So much squished into such little pants. How did she ever fit into them? Women of this era were certainly pros at wearing clothing that, in his mind, would never fit. He tugged at his boxers uncomfortably, even the idea of pants that fit so tightly giving him nightmares of squishage…or worse. He shuddered.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Just fine. Nothing more than a wandering mind,” he assured her.

  The man behind the bar was Greg. He nodded at them and took their orders.

  “So, why did you come running in here like I do when I’ve just heard there’s fresh-baked desserts?”

  He wasn’t positive if that was a jab at herself, or an attempt at a joke, so he just ignored it. “To find you, actually. I wasn’t sure where you were, and wanted to make sure I had a chance to talk to you before you left.”

  “I just got here…”

  “Uh, right. Well, I wanted to be first to say hello as well.”

  She laughed. “Right. So, Ivory, was it? What do you want to say to me?”

  “Ivore, actually. ‘Eye-ver.’ Close enough though,” he said, waving off her apology. “Everyone who’s seen it written says ivory, and we’ve only really met once anyway.”

  “Yeah. Your brother sure took a beating. I’m surprised he was up and about so quickly.”

  Ivore grinned. “I like to think a long time dealing with me and Caine helped him prepare for that one.”

  “Are you telling me you beat your brother up?”

  “Uh, yeah? Have you met him? Sometimes he really needs it.”

  Violet giggled. “That’s not nice!”

  “The truth rarely is,” he said stoically. “But it’s not Cowl’s fault he can’t be as amazing as I am.”

  “Oh brother.” She groaned, giving him an exaggerated eyeroll. “Here we go.”

  “I’ll spare you the details of how perfect I am.”

  “Thank you. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to deserve that sort of punishment.”

  Ivore’s jaw dropped open, his next words lost as what she’d said sank in. “Ouch,” he complained.

  At that moment Greg dropped off their drinks.

  “Seriously though.” He sobered, holding his drink outstretched toward her. “Thank you for being so kind and bringing Cowl back to us. That’s my family, and you saved him.”

  Violet blushed, her ultra-white skin going a splotchy red. “I just helped him to his feet and made sure he got there. It’s not like I carried him to you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. You’re a good person, Violet, and I wanted to say thank you for that.”

  He meant it. During Cowl’s courtship of Violet’s roommate and best friend Andria, he’d taken quite a beating. Neither Ivore nor Caine had been aware of it, but Violet had, and she’d found the unconscious Cowl and brought him back to his brothers. Then the three of them had gone and wreaked unholy vengeance on the evil sons of an evil man. Justice had been served, and he liked it.

  “You’re welcome, Ivore.”

  They clinked glasses and drank. He stared at her over the end of his bottle, trying to figure out the strange feelings he was having.

  Just days earlier he’d been arguing with his brothers that they should leave the military, the town and everything behind. Strike out on their own. But now…now he wasn’t as positive about that sentiment. He still didn’t want to work with the military, to fight their mysterious enemy, but Ivore was thinking that maybe a few more days in Barton City wouldn’t be the worst thing ever.

  “What do you do?”

  Violet leaned back on the bar, resting the drink on a coaster next to her. She had to look way up to see him; he towered over her by a foot, if not more. A tiny thing next to his massive figure, but he suspected it would work out just fine.

  Wait. What would work out fine? What the hell was he talking about? His brain was trying to tell him something. Something important. About Violet. Ivore watched her mouth move. Nothing reached his ears, because all of his attention was on her lips, the way they pouted together for certain syllables. So red and plump, ready to be kissed.

  Get ahold of yourself. She’s a person, not a plaything.

  Breathing through his nose, his mouth watered at her scent. It was tantalizing, teasing him to come and explore it some more.

  She wasn’t just a person. Violet was his mate.

  Ivore gripped his beer bottle tight as the revelation crashed through his brain, toppling all of his carefully laid plans, and leaving nothing in their wake. After two and a half centuries of being alone, he’d found her. He’d actually found her.

  Now what the hell was he supposed to do?

  “What do I do?” It was like Violet had asked the question for him, speaking aloud after reading his brain. “Right now I do nothing.”

  This time her laughter was a nervous thing. She was expecting judgment from him. Well, she wasn’t going to get it. Not in a negative way at least. Whatever answer she was about to provide, he would support it.

  “How come?”

  “I got fired from my last job.”

  “Oh. That…sucks.”

  She smiled. “Yeah. Yeah, kinda.”

  “What’s the plan next? Live the dream?”

  Violet rolled her eyes. “God, I wish. But the dream is expensive.”

  “What is it?” He was curious. Ivore wanted to know everything about this woman. What made her tick, what were her hopes and dreams? What were her fears? He would drink in any knowledge he could get, filing every tidbit away for possible future use. There would be a future, of that he was certain. He just didn’t know how yet.

  “You really want to know?”

  He nodded. Of course he did. How else was he supposed to make sure it happened?

  “Promise you won’t laugh?”

  “Why would I do that?” Laughing at someone’s dream was one of the rudest things he could imagine. Ivore was not going to be like that. Not with Violet.

  “I dunno. It’s silly, I guess.”

  He reached out and touched her
shoulder. “It’s not silly if it’s something you want.”

  She stiffened slightly at his touch, but he kept it short, so as not to alarm her. Pulling his hand back was more of a fight than he expected, but Ivore wasn’t going to let temptation ruin his only chance with the mate he’d waited so long to find. His blood burned with the desire to touch her again, without the soft fabric in the way, but he knew that now wasn’t the time.

  “Okay, fine. But you said no laughing.” Violet looked up at the ceiling for a second before continuing. “I want to open a cupcake shop.”

  He saw her visibly brace herself as she awaited his response. This angered him. There was no need for her to feel defensive about something like that. The only reason she would be was if people before him had laughed or made her feel bad for having this desire. If Ivore ever saw any of them, he would ensure they realized the gravity of their mistake.

  “Cupcakes? Those are the fluffy treats everywhere here, yes?” He’d seen numerous trays of them, and had even sampled several different ones. They were a delicious creation. He could eat a lot of them if given the opportunity.

  “Uh, yeah.” She blushed again, that same splotchy redness running down her cheeks and neck, spreading out around her upper chest. “I actually made those.”

  He froze. “You made them? All of them?”

  Violet nodded. “Yeah, that’s why I was late. They’re disappearing so fast, I made some more at Andria’s request before I came over.”

  “So those red ones with white topping…you made those?”

  “Oh, the red velvet cheesecake? Yeah, those are good, aren’t they?”

  He had no idea what the hell she’d just said, though the words cheese and cake seemed at odds with one another. It didn’t matter though. “Good?” he gushed. “Those are amazing. I must have had like twelve of them.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Seriously? You ate twelve of those? How are you not in a sugar coma now?”

  “I…have a really good metabolism.” Ivore had almost slipped before remembering that though she was Andria’s friend and roommate, she didn’t actually know that most of the men at the party were dragon shifters.