by Skye Jones
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Mia
Dragon Clan Book 2
by Skye Jones
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Copyright 2016 Skye Jones
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced or used without the written permission of the publisher.
All events depicted are fictional and any resemblance to places and persons is coincidental.
This work of fiction is intended for adults age 18 and over.
Editing by Lisa A. Hollett at Silently Correcting Your Grammar
Cover Design by DW Art and Design
Interior Layout by Rachel Medhurst
This book is dedicated to the all the awesome people of the Wolf Pack, for welcoming me so warmly as a newbie writer into your fantastic group. Love you guys.
A quick word:
At the end of this story is a tiny sneak peek at book three in this series, featuring Lilly and her two dragons.
Chapter One
Mia stared at the painting. The bold, bright colors reflected the lively little seaside town perfectly—but not her inner feelings. Today, her world ran in shades of gray and black. The depression had settled over her shoulders as soon as she awoke—a heavy blanket she desperately wanted to shake this warm summer’s day. Experience told her it wouldn’t shift for hours yet. And she had the village art fair to attend, so she needed to brighten up quickly.
She sighed and put down her paintbrush. Time to get ready. She’d take her buddy with her; he’d help her cheer up. She glanced at Marlow, her German Shepherd pup and best friend. Since she’d lost her mum, he represented her only family.
Determined not to start crying, she pushed thoughts of her mother aside and grabbed her shoes from the hallway closet. A walk into town would cheer her and get her head in the right place to greet people and chat about her art. She’d spent hours yesterday setting up her stall, and she’d hate to ruin her efforts.
Marlow bounded over when she pulled his lead out of the closet, making low, whining noises in the back of his throat. She decided to walk the beach way. It took longer, as some of the rocky bays needed careful traversing, but the day shone out, too glorious to miss the chance to be near the ocean. She opened the door to test the temperature. Oh, nice and warm. She wouldn’t need a jacket. She grabbed her light sweater and tied it around her waist and picked up her keys. Patting the pocket of her jeans, she was reassured by the hard shape of her phone; she was always forgetting it. They were good to go.
Marlow bounded about on the end of the lead for the first half a mile or so. At eighteen months old, he still had a lot of pup energy in him. She’d been training him, though, and he’d be a great companion and a good guard dog. Not that she needed one as such. Marlow was more to protect other people from her than her from any danger. Since the age of twelve, Mia had known she was different, and her difference came in a possibly fatal ability to conjure up fire. Her mum had told her to keep her talent secret, lest it cause them trouble. And to this day, Mia had done so.
It made for a lonely life, but she didn’t care much. She had a handful of friends and didn’t need more, and her two romantic relationships had proven more than disappointing, so she didn’t crave love. Although, she sometimes enjoyed some no-strings-attached fun with a tourist. To be honest, she worried she’d become something of a misanthrope. Oh, she enjoyed a brief chat with the people in town, but she didn’t want to take it further. Her oldest friendships were carried out mostly via the phone these days, and new friendships tended to be of the online variety, due to her membership in several groups for artists.
It wasn’t that she disliked people. Rather, she knew, soul deep, she didn’t fit in. Somehow, their concerns didn’t match her own. At one point, she’d tried, but conversations about petty friendship rivalries, politics, and who had won X Factor held no interest for her at all.
They reached the seashore, and she bent and unclipped Marlow’s lead. He shot off to the water’s edge, zigzagging up and down as if chasing a scent. His tongue already lolled, and she knew he’d be grateful of the drink he’d get at the local pub once they reached town. The place always had a water bowl out for customer’s dogs, and they didn’t mind if you stopped and let your canine companion have a drink on your way by.
They reached town forty minutes later. Marlow had taken his time on the beach, and she’d been happy to let him. The warm day began to feel positively hot, and she fancied an ice cream from the local parlor.
“Hello. How are you two today?” Mrs. Shefton, the postmistress, waved from outside her shop door.
“Good, thanks. And you?”
“Not bad. Not bad.”
She knew Mrs. Shefton was anything but not bad. The poor woman had lost her husband only six months earlier. And Mia’s own, good, thanks, had been an outright lie, but she liked it this way. The surface friendliness never went too deep.
Low voices behind her had her turning around to see three young, attractive men strolling behind her. Their tans and sun-lightened hair told her they were most likely here for the yachting. She saw the moment one of them clocked her. His eyes widened, and he stared for a moment too long.
She’d always had an uncanny ability to read people. Picked up on when they were scared, happy, or sad. Or when they were sexually interested in someone. Like this guy, right now. She didn’t think herself particularly good-looking. In fact, she thought her features and coloring a little odd. And her figure could certainly stand to lose a few pounds, but men clearly found her pretty enough, and often reacted to her in the same way. She rarely responded to it, but every once in a while, she would turn and smile, and if the guy struck up a conversation, she might have a fling or even a one-night stand, nothing serious. Nothing long term. Today, as so many times in the last year or so, she didn’t have any interest, so she looked away and quickened her pace. Her damn libido had packed its bags and gone on holiday.
She headed toward the pub at the end of the main road. The town consisted of one long main street and a few small, narrow roads off it that headed uphill toward high fields and farmland. The houses and shops on the main road were a mix of beautiful Georgian and Victorian architecture, and the streets leading off it contained an assemblage of old cottages, many painted in bright colors. With the seafront and beyond the strait and the mountains on the mainland, the place dazzled her soul with its beauty. No wonder she returned to painting it over and over.
Luckily for her, the regular influx of tourists loved to take home souvenirs of their holiday, and her work sold in good numbers through a few art galleries on the island. They reached the pub, and Marlow took a few long, greedy laps at the water bowl.
She watched one couple holding hands with their gorgeous toddler as the little girl trotted between them, wobbling on plump legs.
Mia found herself frowning as she watched the happy scene. She’d never wanted kids of her own. Her mum’s passing made her think about it more, though, and wonder if maybe she would want a family of her own one day. But her periods had always been horribly erratic. She went months without her cycle. Her mum used to tell her not to worry. That it was a B
lake family trait. But then she’d found the box with all the papers in Mum’s attic and realized her whole life had been a lie and that she wasn’t a Blake at all, but adopted at age four.
The worst of it had been realizing how deep the lie went. As a young girl, she’d had memories of her other mother. But whenever she talked about the woman with the dark hair and the flashing eyes, Sheila told her it was nothing more than a dream. Silly nonsense, rather than memories. She told Mia to forget all about it and not talk about it. Just as she had the strange dreams Mia’d experienced where she’d fly up high and blow fire from her mouth. Or the way she read people far too easily. Most of all, her mum had told Mia she must never discuss the terrible gift they’d discovered the day she’d been trapped in a neighbor’s shed. Locked in by a so-called friend, she’d grown panicked until, acting on instinct, she pushed her hands against the wood of the door and let the heat build until flames broke out. She’d stood there as the door burned right next to her and hadn’t been even a tiny bit hot. It burned so fast and bright, she’d easily been able to kick through the weakened wood and walk straight through the flames and out to freedom.
She shook her head, physically trying to shake off memories of the past. She’d been born a freak. An outsider, and she’d never fit in. But she now had Marlow, and she didn’t need people, not when she had her animal friend.
She reached the village hall and stepped inside the cool space.
Twenty artists were showing their work in the converted church hall today. The space was used for a variety of local civic functions and meetings, and next door, down the corridor, there sat a lovely coffee shop and tea room.
She had a small table and six easels set up with some of her best original art. Four racks held various limited-edition prints, along with postcards, prints, and framed pictures. These sorts of events didn’t normally net her much in the way of money on the day, but they did help gain new buyers and fans of her work. People would take one of her business cards or perhaps buy a postcard, and for every six or so who did, one would contact her online and buy a piece. It added nicely to her income from the local galleries and gave her sales without having to pay a middleman.
The event started at ten, but only now at nearly eleven did people start to filter into the hall.
She tied Marlow to the table leg and went off in search of a doggy bowl and water for him and coffee for herself. Ten minutes later, she’d settled herself down with both of them provided for. She took a sip of her coffee, still steaming in its Styrofoam prison, and closed her eyes at the delicious taste. She’d been naughty and ordered a mocha, despite wanting to lose a few pounds. These exhibitions were long days of having to be social, and she needed the pick-me-up.
People drifted into the hall in small groups and meandered around, so she plastered on her game face and hoped she looked perky and bright. Showtime!
*****
The sun dipped behind a cloud at the same moment Aiden entered the clan meeting hall. He suppressed a shiver as he slid into a seat at the back of the room.
The rumors were a latent female had been found. Another dragon out there in the world with no one to guide her, no mates, no clan. Same as the female the Scottish clan had found. Not knowing who or what she was. Dangerous all around. What the fuck any of it had to do with him, though, he had no clue.
Hating feeling so out of place in his own home, he put his head down and fiddled with his phone. His foot tapped against the stone floor as he waited for the room to fill up with his dragon brethren. He’d been called back from a particularly fruitful trip to South America for this, so it had better be good. And what was with the crack of dawn start time?
Pairs of dragon males wandered into the room, and for a moment, he felt the familiar pang. The one he always experienced when he saw happily bonded males. The one he felt even more strongly when he saw mated males with their female. He’d tried to find a male to bond with, but his problem was he’d gone and fallen head over heels in lust with the most unobtainable male in their clan, and in doing so, signed himself over to a life of loneliness.
The rules of their kind meant without a bonded male he couldn’t take a female mate. And he’d never found anyone else he wanted to bond with since the fateful day he’d met him. Steffan. The clan outcast. Gods, how Aiden would love to get close to the male for a few hours. And the kicker of it was, they matched. The few times he’d been near Steffan, he’d scented him and known they’d make an amazing bonded pair.
He looked around the room and sighed again, already missing the feeling of soil sifting between his fingers. It had been a promising dig until the terse text had him hopping on the first plane out of there yesterday. Now he had to sit here in a place he never felt truly comfortable. The doors banged, and Robert, the Welsh clan’s leader, entered the room with his bonded male and female mate by his side. He headed to the front and took a seat on the slightly elevated stage. Robert cleared his throat and started to speak.
“Fellow clan members, thank you for gathering here today. As many of you know, the Scottish clan found a latent female living in the human world, in the form of their leader’s mate, Claire.”
A ripple of excitement passed through the crowd. A clear swell of energy he sensed easily. Aiden possessed the ability to read others, an ability shared by most dragons, but he didn’t practice or refine the skill any, preferring to mind his own business.
Robert ignored the murmurings and mutterings and continued. “It turns out there are more like her out in the world, most likely unaware of what and who they are. Nathan sent teams of males out to try to find these siblings, and we’ve set some of our most powerful females to track them using their magic. We even went so far as to hire investigators from the human world to help and then scrubbed their minds after. None from our clan was involved in this. I accepted it might be a difficult request of my members that you help track down dragons with lineage to a clan that did us harm. However, it has come to light that, so far, two possible female relations to Claire have been found. One in America, and one here, in Wales. Very near to us. Both are females.
“In this instance, I don’t think it right to keep our distance and stay uninvolved. And we owe a tithe of apology to Nathan and his clan. He has agreed to let us repay the debt by bringing Mia here, if only for one night. To prove once more our commitment to the peace—and our love for our Scottish brethren. This is a great honor he bestows upon us, trusting our clan this way, after the unfortunate events of last year.”
The murmurs built, and Robert narrowed his eyes. One steely glare and the room quietened. “I’m sending three clan members to meet with this female. To teach her what she is, see if she will come to meet our clan, and wait here for her family, for Claire, to join her. It’s only a short trip into the mountains, and we are hopeful she can be persuaded. It is dangerous to leave these dragons out in the world, for if they are ever sick or injured, the humans will find out they are not one of them. Our secret will be in peril. We decided long ago not to mix with other shifters or supernatural brethren, so in this world, we are alone. We cannot afford discovery.”
People were nodding, some shaking their heads, and others looking to their neighbors, eyes wide.
“The two females, Kate and Rhiannon, will go meet with this latent. And our unbonded male, Aiden, will go with them.”
Heads turned his way, and Aiden’s throat tightened. Why him? What the hell? It made no sense. Robert’s next words made him grit his teeth.
“I don’t wish to send bonded males in case they match with this female in any way. Then we will face a situation whereby some of our clan males wish to claim a female we have no right to view as one of our own. She may wish to remain here with us for a while, or she may wish to join her sister in the Scottish clan. Mating entanglements will only make things more complex. Aiden?”
Robert looked at him with serious eyes. “You will go with the two females and meet this latent. You will bring her here, and her sister
and her bonded males will come to visit her here.”
He nodded, but inside he seethed. For fuck’s sake, he’d found an impressive archaeological haul. One possibly to show finally how important dragons had been in early human civilization, and he’d been dragged back here to babysit? And not babysit anyone, but some Havsa trash. He didn’t think too much of the Havsa clan after the fuckers had murdered his aunt and two cousins. Yes, the Welsh clan had responded with incredible force, but he, for one, felt it justified.
“Why would she want to come here? Half the people in this room hate the Havsa.”
The deep, rough voice came from the back of the room, making every hair on Aiden’s neck stand on end. He recognized the voice. It haunted his dreams.
“I swore an oath to Nathan that she will be safe here, and anyone in this clan who harms, or even says something nasty to her, will face severe punishment. Anyway, you have no say in this, Steffan.” Robert kept his tone calm, controlled. “You choose to live apart from us, and we respect your wish, but it means you don’t get a voice in our decisions.”
“I want to go meet the female.”
A collective gasp went around the room. Aiden twisted around in his chair to look to the back of the room.
As usual, one glance at the male hit him straight in the gut. Steffan looked even better than the last time they’d crossed paths. His messy, shoulder-length dark hair held some warm brown and dark blond highlights, probably from the sun. His dark skin made the tribal tattoo—an original, not some pale modern imitation—less clear. His eyes were a silvery glow in his face and not the sometimes warmer golden hue they took on. Aiden didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone whose eyes changed color so dramatically.
“This concerns you not,” Robert snapped.
“Oh, but it does. I met Claire, and I liked her. Admired her. And my old friend Nathan has asked me to be involved. I am to ensure this female’s safety. After what happened with Ice…Claire…at the hands of our clan, you must understand their worry. So, you see, it does concern me.”