Constantine

by Donna Grant

  Table of Contents

  Dear Reader

  Constantine: A History

  Epilogue

  An excerpt from Dark Alpha’s Claim

  More books by Donna Grant

  About the Author

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Constantine: A History

  © 2017 by DL Grant, LLC

  Excerpt from Dark Alpha’s Embrace copyright © 2015 by Donna Grant

  Cover design © 2017 by Charity Hendry

  ISBN 10: 1942017405

  ISBN 13: 978-1942017400

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce or transmit this book, or a portion thereof, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author. This book may not be resold or uploaded for distribution to others. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  www.DonnaGrant.com

  www.MotherofDragonsBooks.com

  Available in ebook and print editions

  For Liz-

  For your friendship, shopping trips, food, and hours of talk about the Dragon Kings.

  Constantine

  A History

  Donna Grant

  Dear Reader –

  Sometimes, it’s hard for me, even as a writer, to find words to express how much I love and appreciate all of you taking this journey with me through 41+ books (with more to come) in the Dark World.

  Some of you began with the Warriors and Druids in the Dark Sword series. Some came on board with the Dark Warriors series. And still more with the Dark Kings.

  But then again, who can resist Dragon Kings, right?

  Having recently returned from RT (Romantic Times Convention), one of the questions that kept coming up (besides who is Rhi’s DK?) was: Do I really need to read the Reaper series?

  My response to that is that, no, you don’t have to. But I highly recommend it. Why? Because the Dragon Kings – and Rhi – show up in these books more and more. There are going to be big tie-ins coming, just as there were with the Warriors/Druids and the Dragon Kings. There are reasons why Death wants Rhi followed by one of the Reapers, and why Death takes such an interest in the Dragon Kings – massive, whopping reasons.

  Now, I think everyone knows my love of my Dragon Kings. I’d wanted to write dragons for years and kept being told no. Then, when I was asked to spin off the DS/DW world, I immediately said dragons. And my editor agreed.

  I can’t tell you how much – and loudly – I celebrated that day. I was finally going to be able to write about my Dragon Kings that I had been dreaming of for years! (There might have been some champagne drunk and perhaps even some dancing around the house.)

  While I refuse to give away spoilers, I’ve always said that Con would get his own book, and that it would be the last book in the series. So, before his book releases, I thought this would be a good time for you to get a behind-the-scenes look at the King of Dragon Kings. I want you, my dedicated dragon lovers, to see another side of Con, a private side he doesn’t share.

  With anyone.

  Because…well, you’ll see when you read the story.

  I also wanted to go more in-depth into the history of the Dragon Kings. There is so much to tell, and a lot of it is backstory that would weigh a book down. Hence, Constantine: A History.

  It wasn’t my plan to do the Reaper series. I was asked by my publisher to do another spin-off, and for a bit, I wondered what I could ever come up with that could compare with dragons? Then it hit me. What other beings play such an integral part of the Dark World?

  Why Fae, of course.

  The Dark portray the villains to utter perfection, but what if they weren’t all bad guys? That question led me down a slew of others. I wanted to know more about the Fae culture and how they lived. I wanted to know their hurts, their pain, their desires, their grievances, their hopes, and their love.

  Once I thought about the Fae being Reapers and bringing in both Light and Dark, as well as getting to see the Fae in a different sense than we do with the DKs, I dove into the series with so much anticipation that the first story came faster than I could write it.

  With each Reaper story I write, I come to love them more and more. (Yes, I do have a favorite. I might tell you if you ply me with wine.) If you’ve not delved into the Reaper world, I hope by the time you finish reading this story of Con’s past that you’ll give the Reapers a go.

  Through the Dragon King books, we’ve seen Con in many different lights, and, for me, that’s what makes him so damn amazing. And human – in many instances. I’m hoping with this story that you’ll learn a little more about the King of Kings, and, with any luck, start to fall in love with him as I have.

  With much love,

  DG

  Table of Contents

  Dear Reader

  Constantine: A History

  Epilogue

  An excerpt from Dark Alpha’s Claim

  More books by Donna Grant

  About the Author

  The 12th of August, human year 1601

  Dreagan

  As I write this, I cannot help but look back over the years. The date the mortals use means nothing to me, or any of the other Dragon Kings. Yet, we are bound by it, if we are to live in their world.

  A world I helped to create.

  A world my kind must now hide in.

  I finished visiting those Dragon Kings who have chosen to sleep. It is a burden I gladly take on to give my brethren a chance to escape the hellish lives we have chosen to live. After all these untold thousands of years that rain around me like the stars above, it doesn’t get any easier.

  I soldier on, as do the other Kings. Because we hold out hope that one day we’ll be able to bring our dragons home again.

  Even as I impart the past decade of information to the sleeping Kings, I know there is one thought that never leaves them. When can they see their dragons again? I wish I had an answer.

  But even as all of the magic on this realm flows through me, I have no solution.

  V was the last Dragon King I saw. I sat beside him as he slept, but I could still feel his rage for what the humans had done to him. For V – and aye, even for Ulrik – the answer is simple. Show the mortals who we really are. Resume our rightful place as rulers of the realm with magic and might.

  But how can I? After every King swore to protect the defenseless, magic-less mortals?

  There is no remedy. Just as I feel the magic draining from this world, I wonder how long before we can remain hidden. Before we have no choice but to show the humans that dragons are a part of their world.

  Before we’re once more at war.

  Though I will try and tell the mortals there is no weapon they have that can destroy us, I know they will not listen. Still, I will attempt to save them – even though I know the end result will be their demise.

  There is no winning for either side, but especially not for us Dragon Kings. Not now, and I fear not ever.

  Constantine, the King of Golds

  King of Dragon Kings

  Con set aside his quill and let the ink dry. He blew out a breath and raked a hand through his hair, shoving it from his face and gathering it at the base of his neck before wrapping a strip of leather around the thick length.

  Dawn was fast approaching. He softly closed the journal and tucked it away in a drawer of his desk before rising. As he walked from his office, he proudly looked around at what the Kings had accomplished living in secret. Their whisky had become so well known that even Queen Elizabeth requested it. Con had plans for their company’s future, and everything was already falling into place.


  The whisky, as well as the sheep and cattle, were a viable cover for the Kings that could be used for hundreds of years to come. And Con planned to work it until it was no longer needed.

  He reached the bottom floor and found Nikolai surrounded by candles as he painted another dragon scene. This one was from the Fae Wars. It was a reminder that even though the Kings hid from the humans, they still fought to protect them. But how much longer would Con be able to convince his brethren to do that? Already he’d lost Ulrik….

  “We know where he resides,” Nikolai said.

  Con swung his gaze away from the canvas to look into Nikolai’s light blue eyes. He didn’t pretend not to know that Nikolai spoke about Ulrik. “Nay.”

  “I think you should talk to him.”

  Talk. Ulrik would most likely try to take his head. No, it was better that Con keep his distance. He’d reframed from killing Ulrik once, and he didn’t want to be put in the position where he had no choice in the matter.

  Nikolai let out a loud sigh and nodded his head of auburn hair. “I understand.”

  Con clapped his friend on the shoulder before walking past him and out the door. As soon as he was outside, he drew in a deep breath. There would never come a day where he ever went far from Dreagan. It wasn’t just the seat of power for the King of Dragon Kings, it was his home.

  He spent the next few hours leisurely walking the grounds watching the sun slowly rise in the sky. More time was devoted to helping Cain with a herd of cattle. Con then filled a few hours watching the dogs work the sheep from one pasture to another. After that, he checked on each process of the making of whisky.

  The next time he glanced at the sun, it was noon. Something made Con turn toward the village instead of the manor, where he always took his meals. While he might visit The Fox and The Hound pub that Laith ran for a pint or two, it was a rare occasion. He liked that the other Kings took it upon themselves to keep close to the humans, because it saved him from having to do it.

  Yet, Con’s feet took him toward the village and Laith’s pub. Because he kept out of the public eye, Con didn’t have to worry about a new identity for fear of being recognized. He walked into the establishment and let his gaze roam over the occupants.

  No one looked his way. Pleased, Con strolled to the bar where he spotted Laith. The King of Blacks raised a brow in question. Con merely shrugged as he took a seat.

  “Everything all right?” Laith asked, his forehead creased in concern. “No’ that I’m no’ pleased to see you here.”

  Con rested his arms on the bar. “Something drew me.”

  Laith straightened, instantly on alert as his head swiveled to look around the pub. “I doona feel any magic except for ours.”

  “I doona believe it’s magic. Just a feeling. So, be at ease.”

  Laith snorted. “That isna possible, Con, and hasna been since we sent our dragons away.”

  “Doona give up hope that they will return one day.”

  “Have you?”

  Con held his gaze before Laith gave a shake of his blond head, his long hair reaching past his shoulders. Without another word, Laith put a dram of whisky before him and walked away to tend to another customer.

  Con wrapped his fingers around the glass and swirled the liquid to let the oxygen reach the whisky to bring out all the aromas. He took in the deep amber color. Then he brought it to his lips. He inhaled the spicy, rich scent, feeling it deep within him. Only after did he allow a little to fill his mouth. He closed his eyes and let the delicious, smooth taste slide down his throat.

  Damn, but Dreagan whisky was amazing.

  He finished the Scotch and motioned for another before ordering a Sheppard’s pie to eat. Con remained on the stool, and was surprised to find that he enjoyed himself. The conversations of the humans barely registered. He gazed around at a community that he protected, a village that thrived next to Dreagan.

  Everyone from Dreagan was always welcome in the village, and Con didn’t want to think about what might happen if those same mortals learned that the occupants of the estate were really dragons. For now, humans believed dragons were nothing more than myths – and Con intended for that to remain.

  “You enjoy this,” Con said to Laith when he approached.

  Laith grinned as his gaze moved from one side of the tavern to the other and lowered his voice. “I’ve had this pub for two hundred years, and you want to ask me this now?”

  “I asked when you first built it. I’m asking again.”

  “It gives us a presence here, which we need.”

  Con nodded slowly. “And how do the villagers see us?”

  Laith leaned on the bar. “They like us, if that’s what you want to know.”

  “It’s helpful, aye, but I want to know if they suspect?”

  “No’ at all,” Laith replied. “We’ve done too good of a job for them ever to discover the truth.”

  At least there was that. Con paid for his drinks and food and gave a wave to Laith before setting off to return to Dreagan.

  He only got a short distance before he spotted a woman in all black standing next to a horse pulling a cart that had a few meager belongings inside. The woman lifted one of the animal’s back legs and was looking at its hoof.

  Unsure why, Con found himself drawn to her. He walked closer, moving slowly until she lifted her head. He held up his hands to show her he meant no harm and halted.

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  She gently lowered the horse’s leg and straightened. He got a good look at her. While on the petite side, her glossy black locks gathered into a long plait that hung over her shoulder. Unusual lavender eyes captured him instantly. Only then did he see the unmistakable beauty of her face.

  He made himself take in the poor material of her garments, but he had the suspicion that the woman was anything but common. With a narrowed gaze, he tried to sense any magic around her and found none.

  For a moment, he thought she might be a Fae using glamour to hide her silver eyes. Or red eyes if she were a Dark Fae.

  “My mare threw a shoe,” the woman said as she dusted off her hands.

  Con heard the faint dialect in her speech that couldn’t be covered by the Scots accent, but he couldn’t quite place it. He parted his lips, intending to tell her where to find the local blacksmith. Except that wasn’t what came out of his mouth. Instead, he said, “I can get that fixed for you.”

  “And you are?” she asked, raising a slim, black brow.

  If he had any doubt as to her nobility, the fact she would talk to him in such a way all but proclaimed it. “Constantine,” he replied with a bow of his head.

  “I’m Heather,” she said with a smile. “Are you a blacksmith?”

  “Nay, however, my estate has one.”

  Both brows rose as she looked at him. “Are you a lord then?”

  He hid his smile as she took in the fine breeches, shirt, and vest that he wore. “Nothing of the sort. I merely inherited land from family.”

  “That usually goes hand in hand with a title.”

  “I’ve no need for titles.”

  She regarded him silently for a moment. “Nay, I don’t believe you do. You’re one of those rare men who doesn’t care about such trivial things.”

  He didn’t bother to correct her. How could he begin to explain that he had wanted to be King of Dragon Kings for as long as he could remember? And he had done whatever was needed to ensure the position was his.

  But he didn’t care for was mortal designation they seemed obsessed with. The humans could buy, bribe, or blackmail their way into a title. The magic within the realm chose who would be a Dragon King. And only the strongest of each clan, the dragon with the most magic, could challenge the present King for the spot.

  “Where is this estate?” she asked softly.

  Con nodded to the left. “It’s a wee bit of a walk.”

  “You say that as if I look to be fearful of such exercise.”

  He smil
ed despite himself. “I’d never suggest such a thing.”

  “That’s wise,” she replied with a grin.

  “Shall we?” he asked as he held out an arm.

  Heather took the mare’s bridle and softly called, giving a little pull to get the horse walking. Except the mare would not stop looking at Con. He walked to the animal, talking softly to it all the while. When he reached her, he stroked down her velvety nose before allowing the horse to sniff him.

  Despite being a dragon in disguise, animals always instinctively knew he and his kind were masters over the land. While in human form, creatures of all kinds were drawn to the Kings.

  Finally satisfied, the mare blew out a breath. Con took a step back and nodded to Heather who got the horse walking. They moved slowly, Con’s mind sorting through everything. There was something about her that left him off-balance. While she was one of the most beautiful women he ever laid eyes on, that wasn’t it.

  Although he couldn’t detect any magic, he suspected she was something more than a mere mortal. He’d been around enough humans to know. Nor was she a Druid, because even the most skilled Druid couldn’t hide her magic – nor did they try.

  If Heather wasn’t a mortal, Druid, or Fae, then what was she?

  “You look perplexed.”

  He glanced at over to find her staring at him. Con clasped his hands behind him and shrugged. “Women doona often travel alone.”

  “You’re concern for my welfare is appreciated, but you needn’t worry.”

  Con was almost tempted to shift and see if that could frighten her, because it appeared nothing could break the steely spine of the comely Heather.

  “So you know how to defend yourself?” he asked.

  With her gaze straight ahead, she replied in a cool voice, “I do.”

  For a reason he couldn’t fathom, she fascinated him. Con tried to pinpoint the cause, but he kept coming up empty handed. It was a rare event to find a mortal with a lethal combination of beauty, wit, and brains. If she really could fight, that added another element that just wasn’t found.