Her Dragon: A Reverse Harem Fantasy (Kindred Souls Book 3)

by Helene Gadot

  To the #whychoose movement

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  HER DRAGON

  First edition. June 19, 2018.

  Copyright © 2018 Helene Gadot.

  Written by Helene Gadot.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgments

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you to everyone who has gone on this journey with me and bought and read and reviewed the books.

  To my betas—you're amazing and perfection.

  To Amber and Tam, I love you guys and am so thankful for your friendships and support.

  And to my husband—thank you for having my back in this mad endeavor, you are the best and I love the hell out of you.

  ONE

  The prison cart rumbled along the road, making my teeth knock and clang together. I curled into the corner, trying to find a comfortable position with the shackles rubbing my wrists and ankles raw. I'd been trapped in there for three days. After the first day, they removed the hood over my head and replaced the rope with metal cuffs attached to the floor of the cart.

  I recognized none of my captors, but I knew they were under the king's orders. The man who was supposed to be my father-in-law.

  They refused to answer questions or even talk to me. Instead, they preferred to yank me about in menacing silence. I'd waited for my chance to run, but so far the opportunity hadn't presented itself.

  Wherever they were taking me, I needed to make a break for it soon. Why hadn't they killed me? It made the most sense if the king didn't want me paired with his son. What game was he playing?

  Was he hoping to make it look like I ran away and left my kindreds behind, hoping they wouldn't look for me? This way, there wouldn't be a dead body for them to find if they drove me days away and killed me in the middle of nowhere.

  I returned to digging at the screws twisted into the wood, holding the shackles in place. The skin and nails on my fingers tore away, but I kept at it, ignoring the pain and blood. I'd always been so careful of my fingers and hands so I wouldn't have trouble playing my ukulele, but I'd never play again if I let them kill me either.

  I couldn't wait for my kindreds to rescue me, I couldn't afford to count on it. I knew they'd try, but they what if they didn't make it in time?

  Besides, I was no damsel, waiting on my guys to come and save the day. I'd save my own damn self. I'd spent my entire life taking care of myself. Just because they were in my life didn't change that.

  But damn, I missed them. I missed their touch, their voices, their laughter, Whist's cooking. The guards hadn't fed me more than a few scraps since they abducted me from the prince's rooms. My stomach gnawed at itself in emptiness, so painful I dreamed of food. I'd been hungry like this before, but meeting my kindreds had spoiled me. They had spoiled me.

  Now I was back to hunger and fear and loneliness.

  Whist's intensity, Sky's mischief, Saber's sweetness, Aster's charm, all gone. What I had come to rely on, gone. What I had come to cherish, gone.

  I had to get it back, get them back. I didn't think I had much time left.

  I peeked between the slats in the boards, trying to figure out where I was. I'd traveled all over Faligrey, but nothing struck me as familiar. It was rockier, mountainous. My breath caught as realization hit. They were taking me to the dragon lands.

  Fear clogged my throat, and I scraped harder at the screws, panic and desperation trembling through my hands. I didn't even feel the pain in my ragged fingers anymore, everything but the terror and determination went numb.

  They were so tight and the shackles on my wrists made it awkward, but it finally paid off. One of the screws came loose, dropping from my hands, and rolling across the floor. I grabbed at it, but it ended up in the corner too far for me to reach. It wouldn't matter if I freed the rest. Three more to go.

  Blood stained the boards, dripping from my fingers, making them slippery. I searched the cart and the pockets of my torn and filthy cloak yet again, hoping every time before I'd missed something.

  But there was nothing. Nothing but lint and stray strings.

  The cloak was ruined, Saber's sweet, thoughtful gift nothing but a rag. I clutched it around me, wishing I could still smell him on it, his scent of fire and brandy. But all I smelled was my own sour stench.

  My ruined fingers brushed up against one of the buttons on my shirt and an idea stampeded through me. The button. I ripped it off my shirt, the thin metal the perfect fit inside the grooves of the screws.

  My heart pounded so loud it drowned out everything else as I wrenched the button inside the screw, putting every ounce of strength I had left into it. The first one I tried refused to budge, so with a blown out breath of frustration, I tried another one.

  And it worked. It scraped loose and with a final twist, it came out. My legs were free.

  Two more.

  I checked outside again, making sure they weren't getting suspicious, they weren't stopping. The sun dipped in the sky, the day on its last couple hours. Once darkness fell, they'd stop. I had to hurry.

  I left the stubborn one for last and turned my attention to the next one. It loosened easily and my heart-rate sped up, hope unfurling in my chest. It was working. I was going to get the hell out of here.

  And somehow find my way back to my kindreds.

  The king didn't get to win. He didn't get to take anything else from me. It was time for me to help take things from him. Possibly everything.

  And a little bit of rust on a screw would not stop me.

  My entire body shook as I fought with the button and screw. I spared a prayer of gratitude that the button was metal or it would have snapped in half. My bloody hands slipped off the button, and I barely caught the thing before it joined the screw in the corner.

  The cart lurched to a halt. Shit. I was out of time.

  A loud groan reverberated from my throat as I poured every bit of desperation into the screw.

  And it didn't work. It wouldn't budge.

  TWO

  The guards moved closer to the cart, probably for my daily bathroom break. Or they were ready to kill me. It surprised me they hadn't sent assassins to do the job. Maybe the king thought their loyalty would be divided, unwilling to kill the kindred of their fellow assassins, of their prince.

  I was stuck, unable to release the final screw in the metal plate the shackles were connected to. I yanked at it, bracing my legs against the side of the cart and pulled as hard as I could, tears forming as the metal scraped against my raw wrists. My ankles were still caught together, but they were free from the plate. If I could only get my arms free.

  Then I could use the skills Sky and Elora had drilled into me and escape. I just had to get free.

&nb
sp; The key rattled in the lock on the door, and I threw the rest of my body around, trying to hide my free legs. I curled back up, pretending to be cowed, to be weak.

  The door swung open with a screech, and the weight of one of them made the cart bounce. I huddled further into myself, letting a whimper escape. It wasn't all for show. Fear had me trembling and stiff.

  I peered through my folded arms at the guard.

  "Sit up." He kicked my back.

  Pain radiated up my spine, and I winced with a groan. I straightened and drew my legs up to my chest and then kicked out as hard as I could at his knees. He folded with a surprised grunt, landing half on top of me. I wrapped the chains hanging from my arms around his neck, pulling tight and holding on while his face reddened and he spluttered and fought for breath. His eyes rolled back into his head and saliva spewed from his lips.

  It felt like hours, but was less than a minute, and he slumped over, unconscious. I dug through his pockets and pulled out the key to my cuffs, shoving his dead weight off of me. With my ears perked for any of the others coming, I unlocked the shackles and eased them around the guard's wrists. It wouldn't stop him forever, but it left one less for me to deal with.

  My hand clutching the key, I sneaked a look outside, noting where the rest were. I relieved the sword from the guard, holding it steady just like Sky and Elora showed me. We hadn't gotten very far in my training, but far enough I was confident I could hold my own against one of them. Probably not three, but I was damn sure going to try.

  The guards were too busy setting up camp for the night to question what was taking so long yet. They faced away from the cart, gathering wood and setting up the tent.

  I wouldn't get a better chance.

  I hopped from the cart and landed with a light thump, wincing at the sound, praying they hadn't heard me. I was scared to look back, but I forced the glance over my shoulder as I headed for the woods. They still hadn't noticed.

  My breath puffed from my lips as I pushed myself up the hill, my body weak from lack of food, water, sleep, and exercise. Shouts rang through the air behind me, and I ran harder. The woods swallowed me, keeping me hidden. I used the sword to lean on as my shaky legs brought me to the top of the hill. I clutched the trunk of a tree and fought to fill my lungs with air, staring back down to see if they were on my trail.

  There was no sign of them, hopefully they headed in a different direction, but I couldn't wait around to find out. I had to keep going. I had to create false trails. I had to hide.

  The orange light from the setting sun filtered through the trees, warning me of the impending night. With no supplies and darkness falling, if I didn't find somewhere to hole up fast, I was jumping into trouble almost as bad as what I'd just escaped.

  With one hand still gripping the sword and the other clutching my empty and complaining stomach, I pressed on, using the sword to keep my balance as I lurched down the other side of the hill. I couldn't see the bottom clearly, the foliage too thick. I had no idea what waited for me.

  There wasn't much information about the dragon lands. They didn't even have a name for their country that we knew of. They kept to themselves, remained separate from their surrounding countries. They weren't actually dragons. Their legends declared they once were and so they continued to call themselves dragons. They loved sparkly things and fire and who knew what else?

  What I did know was how dangerous they were believed to be. They were masters in every form of combat, ruthless and bloodthirsty. I didn't want to stumble up on any of them. I needed to find my way back into Faligrey. Back to my kindreds.

  Sweat gathered on my back, soaking through my disgusting clothes and my breath stuttered from my lips as I fought my way to the bottom, my lungs screaming, my legs shaking, everything radiating with pain.

  I hummed under my breath, the song I hadn't been able to get out of my head buzzing in my throat. It was the one that came to me for my kindreds. It told our story, our journey. I hadn't yet had a chance to sing it for them, play it for them. It was the first thing I'd do once we were back together. They needed to know. They needed to know how I felt for them. How strong my feelings were. I didn't think they really believed I chose them, that I wanted to stay with them, that I wanted to fight to keep them, fight to build a life together.

  My voice grew stronger, words replacing the hum, but I kept it quiet, not wanting to draw my enemies to me. The song kept my mind off the pain and exhaustion trembling through me. I hoped the song would somehow reach them—let them know I was alive, I was coming for them. I hoped it created a bridge between us, connecting us.

  So focused on putting one foot in front of the other, on my song, on thoughts of my kindreds, I didn't see the hit coming.

  The sword slipped from my hand as everything went black.

  THREE

  A groan vibrated in my chest as consciousness returned. Not again. At least my hands and feet weren't tied this time, but I was slung across the back of a horse. I tried to raise my head, but a hand pushed the back of my neck, keeping me trapped.

  "Stay still or I'll tie you up."

  I flopped back down to stare at the horse's flank, my head pounding from being upside down for who knew how long. Night hadn't yet completely fallen, so it had probably only been around an hour. "Who are you? Where are you taking me?"

  "You're being taken to our stronghold to answer to our leaders for your crimes." A woman on the horse next to us answered me. She was lithe and blond, reminding me of an elf in the children's stories I'd read instead of a fierce dragon warrior.

  "What crimes?" Why was I a criminal in every country I visited?

  "We take attempted espionage very seriously." The man behind me spoke in a stern voice.

  "What? I'm not a spy."

  The woman shrugged. "You can explain all that to the Dragon Assembly."

  Why couldn't I catch a break? First assassins, then a murderous king, a kidnapping and second assassination attempt, and now dragons.

  "This is ridiculous. I'm a musician not a spy."

  "Shut up or I'll gag you," the man holding me threatened.

  I sucked in my lips to keep from objecting and closed my eyes, letting the motion of the horse rock me, trying to shove the panic tightening my chest away. I breathed deep and let it out slowly, determined to stay calm. I escaped from the king's soldiers, I'd escape the dragons as well.

  Somehow.

  But each moment, each step brought me farther and farther away from Whistler, Saber, Sky, Aster. Why did the fates bring them into my path only to rip me away from them? We never should have met. We never would have if not for the king's madness. If he hadn't decided my songs were treasonous, I'd still be traveling around Faligrey, barely scraping together enough coin to eat. My assassins wouldn't have come for me and we wouldn't have been brought before the prince to find my last kindred.

  I'd never believed in fate, but after my simple life turned upside down, I'd been having second thoughts. Fate made more sense than this many coincidences. But why didn't fate intervene with all the people who never found their kindreds? Why didn't fate intervene with my parents?

  I winced as my captor nudged his horse faster, the trot jarring my bruises and exhausted body. My head pounded from all the blood trapped inside. I struggled to raise the upper half of my body.

  My captor tightened his grip in the back of my ruined cloak. "Stop."

  "I can't feel my face like this."

  He huffed. "Hopefully you'll pass out soon and it won't bother you any longer."

  "It's not like I'm going to escape if you let me sit up." I still planned to watch for an opportunity, but chances were slim.

  "Will you shut up if I allow it?"

  "Yes."

  He yanked me up one-handed into position in front of him in the saddle. I squirmed to find a halfway comfortable position and keep my body away from his at the same time.

  "Would you be still?" He snarled the question, making my pulse skitter and my shoul
ders hunch, expecting a strike.

  Determined not to show fear, I straightened my spine and shoulders. "I'm trying. It's not like your saddle is built for two."

  "I would be happy to sling you over his neck again."

  I heaved a loud sigh and rolled my eyes. "Fine." I held myself stiff and away from him, eying the other dragons riding beside us. There were five, one of them a woman, all of them with mouths set in stern lines.

  My lips burned with questions, curiosity over these people overcoming my fear, but I kept my mouth shut, reminding myself I had jumped from the frying pan into the fire, exchanging one set of captors for another. And everything I'd heard about dragons should have made me very, very wary.

  It could have been gossip and legends, but it'd be foolish not to take it seriously until they showed me differently. I gripped the saddle horn with my hands, hissing at the reminder of my ripped and ragged fingers.

  "Did you fall down a mountain?" The woman asked, peering at me in curiosity.

  I blinked. "What? No."

  "Why do you smell like blood beneath the filth?" my captor asked.

  "Because I'm injured."

  "Where?"

  I shrugged. "Hands, wrists, ankles, ribs, back."

  "You're bleeding from all of those places?" The woman's brows shot high on her forehead.

  "Not my ribs and back, those are just bruised. Oh, and my head hurts from where you brutes knocked me unconscious." I scowled over my shoulder.

  He ignored my pointed comment. "Are you certain you didn't fall down a mountain?"

  "Yes. I am. I would remember falling down a mountain." I tried to memorize my surroundings so I could find my way out of there if I escaped. When I escaped.

  "Then what happened?" Another one of the dragons nudged his horse closer. He was huge, just what I imagined when I pictured dragons. Dark hair, pale skin, eyes the color of dragon scales, weapons strapped to every available surface of his body.