Scaling Her Dragon: BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (Paranormal Dating Agency Book 8)

by Taiden, Milly

  SCALING HER DRAGON

  PARANORMAL DATING AGENCY

  NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

  MILLY TAIDEN

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  Plus-size Rebecca is on a jaunt to another world. She had hopes of finding herself a nice, sweet shifter like her sister did, but somehow she ended up attracted to a big, fiery dragon—a dragon who isn’t looking for love. If only he didn’t have eyes that made her want to take her panties off and a body that sent her hormones into a frenzy, life would be a lot easier.

  Vikter Dragos is dying. His dragon couldn’t find a mate, and he’s at the end of his time. He’s fighting his attraction for a sassy, curvy human, but it’s near impossible to stay away from her. If only she’d been his mate, everything would be smoother. He’s losing control of his dragon and his emotions. With Becca around, he doesn’t know what to expect.

  Becca’s in constant confusion over Vikter’s hot-and-cold attitude. One moment he’s kissing her like the world’s going to end, and the next he’s warning her away from getting attached. Figuring out how to scale this dragon might take more patience than she’s got. When competition arises and Vikter sees another wants Becca, he’ll face his feelings or risk losing her forever.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real in any way. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales, or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Published By

  Latin Goddess Press

  New York, NY 10456

  http://millytaiden.com

  Scaling Her Dragon

  Copyright © 2015 by Milly Taiden

  Cover by Willsin Rowe

  Edited by: Tina Winograd,

  Dee Carrell

  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.

  Property of Milly Taiden

  September 2015

  —For My Readers

  Thank you for the love and the encouragement. I couldn’t do this without you all. I love you.

  ONE

  “Times are changing,” Vikter said, turning to face his much younger sister, Razzy. His chest ached. He didn’t want to think of leaving her behind. She was just coming of age—not old enough to search for a mate yet. The need to find someone wouldn’t hit her until later.

  Vikter, on the other hand, had the opposite problem. His dragon had been desperately looking for his mate, for the other soul that would connect with it and give him a reason for living. Without it, the animal would disconnect from Vikter and eventually die. Dragon shifters needed the dual-soul connection a mate gave them.

  Razzy stared at him, her big purple eyes filled with sadness. “Vikter, there has to be something we can do.”

  He smiled at the irony of his life. He’d just gotten his best friend back. His fellow dragons and the wolves were at peace after years of misunderstandings had ripped them apart. It was cause for celebration, but gloom whispered through the trees and mountains of Dragosland. Vikter, their leader, was dying. “I’ve searched high and low. There’s no one in this world for me.”

  Razzy bit her lip. “What about the matchmaker? Did you speak with her?”

  He sighed hard as he dropped onto his chair. He’d never felt so old in his life. His dragon slept. His limbs felt heavy, and his body weighed him down. “I did. She promised to try, but we have little time.”

  He lifted a hand to scratch at the long beard he’d been ignoring. His hair had grown past his shoulders. Vikter wasn’t vain, but this wasn’t him. He stopped caring for his appearance the moment he realized he was close to his last breath from lack of a mate.

  “But—”

  “Soon,” he said, hushing her with a look, “it will be your time. You will be in charge of our people. I need you to train to be the fighter you have inside.”

  She shook her head, pacing his office and ignoring his words. “I am not their leader, Vikter. You are.”

  “We are of the royal Dragos bloodline, Razzy. You will rule.”

  “I don’t want to rule anything!” she yelled, storming out of his office, her long hair bouncing down her back in a thick braid.

  He didn’t bother going after her. There wasn’t anything he could say to change things. This was their destiny. His dragon already showed signs of weakening. It was only a matter of time before he decided never to wake up again, leaving Vikter so empty, he’d die soon after.

  * * *

  Vikter glanced down at the lush land his family had taken care of for thousands of years, from the deep pink oceans to the yellow mountains his sister loved to run and fly over with her friends. A deep, painful ache took hold in his chest. Then, much to his surprise, anger blossomed. Acid-burning fury shot through his veins. Life was so fucking unfair. Unconsciously, his hand slapped to his chest.

  He gripped the ancient family heirloom dangling from his neck. A long, thick rope chain with a yellow diamond a replicate of a miniature version of a dragon egg rested at the center of his chest. The chain had been a gift from his father at birth. Unlike most diamonds, the one from the Dragos house was shaped in the form of a dragon’s eye.

  He gasped as the shift to his animal swept through him. It had been so long—months—since he’d woken. The dragon had finally reappeared. The previous rage grew in Vikter. Anger over his current position and lack of mate made him roar, spitting fire across the sky. Exhaling smoke, he shot into the air and soared.

  The wind caressed his animal’s body. It was exhilarating to feel the dragon once more. How long would it last? He had no idea. He’d take whatever time he could with his other half.

  Another loud roar sounded from his chest. The dragon blew another puff of fire into the clear sky. He knew the animal was angry. He was angry too. Not much could be done about that. There was no blaming anyone over his lack of a mate.

  His dragon pulled away from him. The communication that had been so seamless before took effort to understand now. It was a battle for control most days. Mainly the dragon was giving up on life. Vikter had started to do the same.

  He glanced down at the cleared forest. He moved fast and far. Below, another dragon caught his attention. He folded his wings back and dove, his body bolting faster than normal. An angry, loud thump sounded when he landed.

  The other dragon drank from the cool springs flowing from the Ice Mountains. No need to shift into his body to talk. They connected through their animals telepathically.

  A red dragon lay by the edge of the springs, his claws digging into the soft grass. The dragon glanced at Vikter, his gaze filled with surprise. “Vikter,” said his cousin, Drayken.

  “Drayken. How are you?” Vikter asked, his dragon urged for another flight, but Vikter waited.

  Drayken’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen you in months.” He sniffed, rubbing his face over the back of his claw. “My mother has asked me many times about your health, but when I come over, you’re never available.” He eyed his cousin with interest. “Glad to see you’re still doing well.”

  Vikter shuffled his feet, tail swishing side to side so close to the trees, he felt the graze of the leaves on his scales. “As you can see, I’m still here. In
the event something happens, Razzy will take over. She’s next in line.”

  “She’s so young,” Drayken said. “Dragonlings are so reckless.” He stretched his wings wide, the light filtering through his translucent, glittering flesh. “She should be more careful. We wouldn’t want to have to find someone to take over for her.”

  Vikter didn’t sense a threat in Drayken’s words, but he knew if given the opportunity, his cousin would happily take over Dragosland. As long as Vikter lived and his dragon gave him the ability to protect his loved ones, nobody would lay a hand on Razzy.

  “How is your mate search going?” Drayken asked, his red eyes appearing brighter.

  “I’ve stopped searching,” he admitted. They were shifters. Drayken would know if Vikter lied. The last thing he needed was his cousin to feel any kind of sympathy over his problems. “Some people are not meant to have a mate in their lives.”

  Drayken’s only reply was a low rumble. “I’ll come by the castle in a few days.”

  “Don’t. I’m fine. I don’t need you checking on me.” In fact, if they knew how much the disconnection between Vikter and his dragon grew, they’d definitely worry. The animal had shut down some of their links. Mental and emotional ties with the beast had grown distant. At this point, he knew there was no finding a female. With his dragon this unstable, he wouldn’t even recognize his mate if she stood directly in front of him.

  Drayken stretched his neck, glancing at the sky. “Mother is worried over Razzy.”

  “She’s fine. I watch over my sister,” Vikter growled.

  “Yes, but for how long?” Drayken asked.

  “For as long as I live!”

  The angry roar came out with a plume of smoke. Fire burned at the back of his throat. His dragon itched to get off the ground and go. He didn’t bother saying goodbye. The need to fly became his sole focus. He kicked off, shooting through the sky, glancing at the colorful mountains where the wolves lived.

  His life might be ending, but he would teach his sister how to lead it all. Razzy needed to be tough. Her life would change soon.

  A new wave of fury filled his chest. What should be making him happy—a mate—was destroying him, all because he couldn’t find her. Why were Alyx and Brecc and Eros so different? Why were they gifted one but he wasn’t?

  He roared, letting his frustration out with a long trail of fire. He needed to stop questioning the fates. Reality was, he didn’t have a mate. The bitterness in his veins grew. He would stay away from his happy friends. He’d only impose on them with his deathwatch. It was time to focus on preparing his sister for life after him. His soul was no longer important.

  TWO

  Rebecca glanced around her room in the lion’s palace. She’d hurriedly taken a motion-sickness pill when Gerri advised her that travel could get rough. The problem with her pills was they made her incredibly groggy. At the moment, she was having a hard time not falling asleep before she got a chance to speak to Bella or even Gerri again.

  The damn room wasn’t helping. It changed colors. Even though Gerri had warned her, it caught her off guard to see everything changing to look like a giant dragon lair.

  The walls transformed into a stone texture, and the bedding and curtains turned shiny silver, covered with tiny, golden dragons. It was the bedroom of her dreams. She pulled out her green-and-gold stuffed dragon and laid it on the bed. There. Now it really looked like the best place to sleep.

  A knock sounded at the door. She yawned and sat at the edge of the bed, taking hold of her bed partner: her stuffed dragon, Hector.

  “Come in.”

  Gerri marched inside, glancing around the room with a grin. “I see you’ve made yourself at home, huh?”

  “I don’t know what the hell is up with this room. Where did it get that I want to be in a dragon’s lair?” Becca asked, stifling another yawn.

  “The room reads your mind and changes things to what you find most comfortable.” Gerri ran a hand over the tiny dragons on the curtains. “I’m taking a guess here, but you might have a thing for scaly creatures.”

  Becca shook her head. “No. Not really.”

  Gerri raised her brows and stared pointedly at Becca’s hands, where she held her stuffed dragon. “Really?”

  “Okay. Maybe a little. I find dragons fascinating,” she admitted. “They’re so big and dangerous but beautiful at the same time. When I was a little girl, I used to dream of climbing onto a dragon’s back and being taken to a land of happiness, away from the evil.”

  “Evil?”

  She grinned. “My parents. As a kid, I swore they were wicked.”

  “That’s some imagination you have,” Gerri mused. “Will you have issues with your family attorney handling the rental of your and Charlotte’s homes?”

  “No. He’s really great. His father used to do our dad’s business stuff. And now his son, Darren, has been great about doing what’s needed without asking questions.”

  Gerri pulled out a chair and sat next to an antique table. She picked up a large pitcher and filled two glasses with a red liquid. Becca stood, her body groaning from her sleepiness. She took one of the cups Gerri offered and sipped.

  “That’s Sidaii wine. It’s a favorite here.”

  Becca tasted the sweet flavors of fruit but no liquor. “Are you sure this is wine? It tastes more like punch.”

  Gerri laughed. “Drink it really fast and see how quickly your face lands on the floor.”

  She was tempted, but wouldn’t. Gerri hadn’t really dared her. One of Becca’s weaknesses was she always took a dare, and usually got herself into trouble—like skydiving when she’d been too chicken to jump off a plane, and bungee jumping when she hated heights. Oh, she’d done it, but she hadn’t really liked it.

  She’d continually gone against her better judgment just to prove she could do anything. It hadn’t always worked to her benefit. Sometimes, she ended up hurt. One time, she wore roller skates to show the kids she mentored that she could skate. Well, she couldn’t walk without tripping over her own feet, much less skate, and she ended up with a broken wrist.

  “Tell me more about this matchmaking business of yours,” Becca said, sitting back while holding on to her drink with one hand and her stuffed dragon with the other.

  THREE

  “It’s quite simple. Shifters of all kinds ask me to find them mates, and I do my best. Human females ask me to help get the right man for them, and I find them shifters.”

  “Is it always a shifter?” Becca asked, her curiosity spiking. Charlotte came to this planet with Gerri and found herself not one, but two men she fell in love with. If that wasn’t a testament of Gerri’s ability at matchmaking, she didn’t know what was.

  “Yes. I run a paranormal dating agency, darling. Guys with fur looking for girls with curves.”

  She raised her brows. “Curves?”

  “That’s right. The men who use my services prefer big, beautiful, bold, confident women,” Gerri replied. “I understand not all women will be confident with their bodies, especially with the fiasco that is society on Earth. But having some love for their curves is a must.”

  Becca nodded. “I understand that. So many women, and even men, have to deal with someone constantly putting them down and making them feel like shit because of their weight. It’s nice to have a service to get someone who won’t make you feel bad over the extra cushion in the trunk.” She sighed. “Someone who actually wants the curves and the padding.”

  “What about you?” Gerri asked. “Are you leaving a man behind?”

  She shook her head and drank more wine. The fruity flavors warmed her belly and made her feel even more relaxed. “Nope. Unlike Charlotte, who just had shitty luck with men, I can’t find one who holds my attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve dated interesting guys, but they thought my being with them meant I would spend all day at the gym, because they wanted me to lose weight.”

  “Seriously?” Gerri asked.

  She made a face o
f disgust. “Why do men do that? And not just men. Society as a whole. I’ve had people stare at me while eating, like I’m breaking a rule, but they don’t know I’ve hiked four miles. And honestly? I don’t think they’d care. I’ve even gotten jerks asking me ‘do you really want to eat that?’”

  Gerri’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding, right?”

  She growled. “Do I want to eat that? Damn straight I do, asshole. But I have to admit, I held my composure and managed to only call the guy a jackass, because I actually wasn’t feeling very good.” She took a breath to calm down. “The point is that, yes, I’ve had assholes I’ve been in relationships with. They wanted me to fit their body standards, and I didn’t. That meant I got dumped and told how I didn’t fit in with society’s views of beauty.”

  “Tell me you didn’t believe them.” Gerri stared at her, waiting for a response.

  “Sometimes, when I’m down, I wonder. But the truth is I have a lot of self-love for my curves. I think I look good. So what if I have rolls, or chub, or flabby thighs? Damn it, I have batwings.”

  “Really?” Gerri asked.

  “Yes. You know, that soft skin on your arms that sort of wiggles and isn’t top-of-the-line bicep perfect? Yeah, that. I got that. But on the plus side, I have a big ass.” She giggled. “Guys seem to be fond of that.” She nodded at Gerri’s smirk.

  “I bet,” Gerri laughed. “I know quite a few shifters who love some big curves. Are men’s opinions important to you?”

  She shook her head. “Not really. Despite what men think, I know I look good. I may not be everyone’s ideal of beauty, but I’m my own woman, and one day, I’ll be someone else’s. A man who deserves me. Who loves me as I am, without wanting a single thing changed in me.”

  “Have all men been that way?”

  She shook her head. “I have had a few nice guys, but it feels wrong to be with them after a while. Like they don’t get me.”