Fire in His Fury

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by Ruby Dixon




  Fire in His Fury

  A Fireblood Dragon Romance

  Ruby Dixon

  Ruby Dixon

  Copyright © 2018 by Ruby Dixon

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Photo by Sara Eirew Photographer

  Cover by Kati Wilde

  Edits by Aquila Editing

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Fire in His Fury

  WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

  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

  Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  Ruby Dixon Reading List

  Need more shifters?

  Want More?

  Fire in His Fury

  Just like Rapunzel from the fairy tales, dreamy, romantic Amy lives a hidden life. She's kept locked away in a tower for her own safety, with her sister as protector. Amy knows it's for her own good. If a dragon catches her scent, she'll be carried away and forced to become a drakoni's mate.

  But Amy has a secret - she desperately wants to be stolen. She would love to be rescued from her life of idleness and the thought of a devoted drakoni male charging in and saving her from her boredom sounds perfect to her. Of course, she wants a romantic, loving male who will adore her.

  What she gets is Rast.

  He's not kind. Not romantic. Definitely not gentle. But he is utterly and completely obsessed with Amy and he'll stop at nothing to make the delicate female his.

  WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE

  The year is 2023, seven years after the destruction of the known world. Back in 2016, a Rift opened in the heavens and dragons poured forth, as terrible and violent as the beasts of legend. Like ants, they swarmed over the human cities, destroying everything in their wake. Buildings crumbled, countries fell, and within a matter of months, humankind was broken. Guns had no effect on the unearthly creatures from another dimension. Planes and missiles were too slow. Riots broke out as men were forced to fight not only for their survival against the dragons, but against each other.

  The people who survived those first brutal days took to hiding. Eventually, small groups of survivors banded together and formed forts where they could live safely and securely. In the After, concrete is the building material of choice, and people freely give up their rights in exchange for protection for their families. The forts themselves are isolated and corrupt, run by a power-hungry militia. The guns they carry might not be useful against dragons, but they’re more than enough to keep the people of the fort in line. Those who cannot obey a fort’s rules are cast out, to live as nomads. They are considered scum by fort-dwellers and view themselves as dead men walking. Without shelter or a permanent place to call home, they might as well be.

  For seven years, humanity continues on, living in the cracks and hiding in the shadows.

  Then, things begin to slowly change. CLAUDIA, a thief from Fort Dallas, is left in the wild, abandoned streets of the former city, now known as the Scavenge Lands, as bait to tame a dragon. No one expects her to live…or for it to work. Her dragon KAEL is fierce and possessive, his mind broken by the constant madness that eats at the drakoni. Despite this, he is an intelligent being and can be as kind and loving as he is brutal. After a time, Claudia stops seeing him as the enemy and starts seeing him as a partner, and a powerful one. With Kael’s help, she hatches a plan to rescue her sister AMY and her friend SASHA from Fort Dallas and its corrupt militia. (Book 1 - Fire in His Blood)

  In the process, Sasha is snatched away by DAKH, a crazed male dragon who seeks a mate to fix his mind. Though it takes time for the fearful Sasha to trust Dakh, she eventually realizes that the dragon would do anything for her and that he can love just as fiercely as any male human. When Sasha is captured by local bandits, she learns that not only are the nomads working with an old enemy of hers, but the bandits are led by a mysterious stranger named AZAR.

  Azar claims to be drakoni, but not like the others. He’s not crazed, he can’t (or won’t) shift to dragon form, and he has a plan to return to his homeworld. He needs someone to go back through the rift that was created between worlds, but since no one knows if it can be done, he needs a volunteer. If he can’t get one, he’ll force someone through. He holds Sasha hostage in the hopes that she can persuade Dakh to go through the Rift, even if it costs him his life. To make matters even more dangerous, Azar’s captured ZOHR, another dragon, but he remains too crazed to be useful.

  Sasha refuses to pull Dakh into Azar’s dangerous games. With the help of Emma, she breaks free from captivity and escapes into Dakh’s waiting arms. (Book 2 - Fire in His Kiss)

  Meanwhile, Emma remains behind with Azar’s people to try to free Zohr. To do so, she must mate with him to establish the mental connection. Zohr frees himself after a confrontation with Azar, but at the cost of his wings. While he heals, he and Emma work on a plan to destroy Azar and his men. When the mated pair approach Claudia and Kael for help, Claudia’s unmated sister Amy is enlisted to be scent-bait. (Book 3 - Fire in His Embrace)

  Amy has a plan of her own, though. She tosses her panties down in the city so a dragon can find her and fall in love with her. She wants to be free of the quasi-exile she lives in back in Claudia’s tower.

  A dragon does find her panties - RAST. And he comes to claim her…

  1

  AMY

  It’s going to be another hot day.

  Even though it’s early, my room already feels like an oven. There are no windows, because safety must be key. No one can know I’m hiding inside here. And because it’s the apocalypse, there’s no air conditioning, no ceiling fan, no nothing. I have a paper fan that Claudia brought me, and I pick it up and wave it over my face in the darkness, creating a breeze. I can light some candles or maybe use one of my lanterns, but that gives off heat, too, and sometimes it’s cooler to just sit here in the darkness and wait.

  And wait.

  And wait.

  What I’m waiting for, I don’t exactly know. A change in this life. A rescue.

  A prince on horseback.

  Silliness, I know. But when your life is as stagnant as mine, you indulge in the fantasy, because the fantasy’s all that you’ve got. I remember all the fairy tale movies from when I was a child. They all involved a plucky, singing heroine who fought through troublesome times to get her man. Maybe that’s my problem. I can’t really sing.

  Well, that, and I’m not very plucky.

  And I can’t fight at all with my bad leg. So I’m zero for three in regard to being princess material. Doesn’t matter. I don’t want to rule over a kingdom. I’m not very social and the thought of balls and soirees—if they even exist anymore—seems a little hellish. But I’d love to have a prince. I close my eyes in the darkness, fan myself, and dream.

  My ideal prince would be tall. Dark haired with gorgeous blue eyes that pierce the soul. He’d be strong enough to carr
y me wherever I need to go, since my bad leg doesn’t allow me to do much for long. And he’d be gentle. So, so gentle. He’d pick me flowers and read me poetry and we’d spend endless days in the shade of a tree on a blanket, gazing up at fluffy clouds while holding hands. He’d beg me for a kiss and I’d be shy, but of course I’d comply. I touch my lips, just thinking about such things.

  My prince would be sweet, and kind, and adoring…and I’d never be lonely again. He’d hold me close and brush my hair back from my face and then whisper sweet nothings in my ear. I’m the most incredible woman he’s ever met. He wants to write me songs and—

  There’s a hard knock on the door to my room. “Amy? You up?”

  It’s my sister. “I’m awake.” I don’t get up from the bed, just keep fanning myself.

  Claudia opens the door a crack. Not too much, because my scent is dangerous. “Morning, sleepyhead.” She gives me an affectionate smile. “We’ve got a couple of cool hours before it gets too hot. Want to come up and have breakfast?”

  I feel a stab of resentment for my sister, with her bright red, curling hair that’s so clean and fresh and not plastered to her face with sweat. She’s lightly freckled from spending her days in the sun, and her hand rests on the pregnant bulge of her belly. She’s so happy and I’m so…not.

  Of course, then I feel guilty. Claudia’s doing the best she can. It’s not her fault I’m miserable. I sit up in bed and give her a happy smile I hope looks sincere. “Sure.”

  “Great. I’ll put on some coffee. See you in a bit.” She closes the door again and then I’m alone in the dark.

  I get to my feet. Since I’m leaving my hot prison cell, there are things I have to do before I can get out into the fresh air. I light a candle with the Zippo lighter at the side of my bed, and then take the candle into the bathroom adjoining my bedroom. Well, it’s not really a bedroom. This building used to be an office of sorts, but in the After, people live wherever it’s safest. Our old home used to be a broken-down schoolbus in a parking lot back in Fort Dallas, so this is an improvement. Sort of. At least back in the schoolbus I could crack a window and get a hint of a breeze. My room isn’t pleasant, temperature-wise, so I’ve done my best to decorate it with as many pretty things as I can. Colorful scarves and curtains drape every inch of the walls and hang above from the tall ceiling like banners. Claudia brought me magazines and posters from bookstores, and I’ve papered the walls with pictures of wonderful things—old movie advertisements, pictures of castles, anything and everything that caught my eye. My furniture is delicate and pretty, also thanks to Claudia and her dragon mate, Kael. My bed is a soft, fluffy cloud like nothing I’ve experienced in the past.

  Really, they’ve been so good to me. It’s not their fault I’m miserable.

  I head into the bathroom and set my candle down on the counter. First, I wash up. Sweat is a strong smell, and since dragons have keen senses, I have to try and remove as much of it as possible. I strip off my dress and out of my panties, and then use a washcloth, soap and water to give myself a quick bath. I have to scrub every part of my body that might carry scent—under the arms, behind the knees, the neck, and between the thighs. Once that’s done, I towel dry, apply liberal amounts of deodorant, and then begin perfuming.

  I hate the perfume the most. Just the smell of it is enough to make me gag and choke, but I have to, or else I can’t go out at all. It’s something to be endured, just like the heat. I close my eyes, hold my breath, and then begin spraying. A light mist all over the body, and then heavy doses at my pulse points, with the biggest sprays between my thighs. I get fresh panties from a drawer I keep here in the bathroom, and dose them with perfume before putting them on as well. Then, coughing, I step out and quickly dress before I start to sweat again.

  When I’m clothed, I slip on a pair of sandals and head out, finally able to face the bright, warm sunshine of the day. Like Claudia said, it’s early, but compared to the dark cave of my room, it’s gorgeous. I can hear distant birds, and the breeze ruffles my hair. I live for these moments, when I feel like I’m free and not just trapped in a coffin. We’re up high, at the top of a destroyed skyscraper in the middle of Old Dallas. Because my sister’s mated to a dragon, we live on the top floors, because he likes to come and go easily. I imagine it’s a lot like birds and their nests—they don’t want to be on the ground like people. The building’s not whole, though. Most of the windows have been shattered and one end of the building has completely collapsed and fallen open. This doesn’t bother my sister or her dragon, though. They have patio furniture and wood-burning grills set up in the open area, like it’s just a big outdoor living space. This is where my sister keeps her “kitchen,” and I limp toward the edge of the building, because I like to look out at the open spaces.

  “Don’t get too close,” Claudia warns me as she feeds another wood log to her firepit.

  I ignore her, because she’s always telling me that as if I’m a child. As if I don’t do this every time I come out. I move to the edge of the building, where the wall has fallen away and has left nothing but empty, open space hundreds of feet up. I clutch at the mortarwork and lean forward, letting the stiff breeze whip my long blonde hair around my face.

  Up here, you can see forever.

  I sigh and rest my chin on my hand as I gaze down at the ruins of the city below. Up here, it’s almost pretty. I remember being young and riding in the back seat of the car as my parents drove through downtown traffic. I remember the streets were nothing but bumper-to-bumper cars, gray buildings, signs and billboards and so many clustered buildings that it could never be called pretty. It’s all different now. There are still a lot of buildings, seven years After the Rift, but the wildlife is reclaiming a lot of the world. Even with dragonfire burning the world on a regular basis, there’s still so much greenery. The half-crumbled buildings are covered in vines, and the streets are veined with green grass that’s grown up in the cracks of the asphalt. Trees have sprung up everywhere possible, and when I look across the way, there’s a cluster of new saplings that have sprung up atop a broken overpass. Deer bounce back and forth between overgrown bushes. The tall buildings of Old Dallas still stick up from the ruins, but it’s becoming a wilder, prettier place. The only sounds are those of birds singing and the wind whipping around us. I gaze out at the green and gray of Old Dallas, and off in the distance, like a big ugly stain, is Fort Dallas. It’s the last “safe” place for humanity in this area, and they’ve all clustered together in one small area that’s surrounded by a metal-fused barricade made from old cars. Behind that barrier, I know what it’s like. It smells and there are people underfoot no matter where you turn. It’s dirty and run by soldiers and there’s never enough to eat.

  It wasn’t better than here. But at least there, I had some freedom. Here, in what passes for luxury in the After, I have none.

  Of course, the thought makes me sad, and I turn away, limping over to the patio table and sitting down carefully, extending my bad leg out in front of me.

  “How’s the leg feel this morning?” Claudia asks as she cracks an egg in a skillet. I’m not sure how she got eggs, but she and Kael always seem to be able to find a fresh supply of food. It’s such a difference from when we were starving back in Fort Dallas.

  “My leg’s not too bad,” I lie, because I don’t want her to worry. Even if I told her it ached, she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. Of course, knowing Claudia, she’d probably want to go see if she and Kael could raid an old pharmacy for some aspirin, anything to help me out. My sister’s as giving as she is brave. But nothing’s going to help my leg. It mended badly and nothing’s going to ever make it feel a hundred percent. I’ve learned to accept that. “There’s a lot of smoke over Fort Dallas today,” I comment to change the subject. “Something going on?”

  “Dragon attack,” she comments, as easily as if she’d say it’s been raining. We’re safe here, because her dragon’s always nearby. “Big gold, I think. I didn’t see
it, but Kael did. Reds are due later today.” She turns and gives me an apologetic grimace even as she slides the eggs onto a plate and brings it over to me.

  I keep smiling, even though I feel like screaming. Reds attack for several days in a row, and if there are dragons in the area, that means I have to hide down in my room, despite the perfume bath I just took. Between that and the sweaty heat, it’s too dangerous for me to stay up top. Dragons have an acute sense of smell, kind of like sharks. They can pick out a lone scent on the wind from miles away. The only reason everyone in Fort Dallas is safe, Claudia tells me, is that the stink of all of them piled together overwhelms dragon senses. That’s also why the fort gets dive-bombed by crazed dragons every time they’re in the area.

  And red dragons attack for days in a row, which means I’m going to have to hide downstairs for days and days on end. I close my eyes and tell myself it doesn’t matter. “It’s fine. I’ll read something.”

  Claudia tosses an egg onto her plate and sits down across from me. “I feel bad.”

  “Oh, please don’t,” I tell her, and I mean it. “It’s just how things are. It’s not like you can help it. I’m safer here with you guys than in Fort Dallas.”

  Miserable, well fed, and safe is still better than miserable, starving and in danger, after all.

 

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