Dragon Shattered_A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance

by Keira Blackwood

  The elevator doors opened, and the three of us stepped in. Slade looked from me to Quentin.

  “By all means,” Quentin said, gesturing at the array of buttons.

  Grinning, Slade pressed forty-seven.

  “She’s going to choose one of us,” I said, not even bothering to hide the nerves in my voice. I felt nervous, and these guys were like my brothers. Trying to hide my feelings from them would be pointless, anyway—we seemed to be on the same crazy, let’s-all-impress-Ariana train and I didn’t see any of us getting off that track anytime soon.

  “I don’t want to say goodbye to either of you guys,” Slade said.

  Quentin nodded. “That is my sentiment, as well.”

  The elevator chimed as it reached the floor of Ariana’s office, and the three of us stepped out. In one of those heartfelt sports movies, this would be the spot where the team’s coach gave an inspirational speech and then they do a team huddle and shout, “One, two, three—win!” Obviously that wouldn’t translate to an office setting, but I felt the same stirrings of teamwork and encouragement.

  “Guys, this can’t be the end of us,” I said.

  Quentin seemed to have retreated into himself, like he couldn’t stand the thought and didn’t know how to express it. And I could’ve sworn Slade’s eyes looked glassy. Pointing that out would have earned me a giant noogie, though, so I kept my mouth shut.

  “Shall we?” I gestured to Ariana’s office door.

  Her office was tastefully decorated with a large walnut desk and a gray rug in the center. A fireplace and sofa were set up at the far side of the room. The whole place felt comfortable, and suited her well. Best of all, her personal scent of apples filled my nostrils. I wanted to inhale, throw my head back, and take flight.

  Ariana sat at her desk, and she gestured to three plush chairs set up facing her. We each took a chair and sat down. From the corner of my eye, I could see Quentin and Slade gazing at her with the same strange mix of adoration and anxiety that I was feeling.

  I didn’t want to get sent away. I didn’t want any of us to get sent away. Besides, I was now unemployed. I needed this job.

  Ariana folded her hands on the desk in front of her, then broke them apart and placed each one palm-down on the rich walnut wood. “I’ll be honest,” she said. “Working with the three of you over the past few days has been both a privilege and a pleasure.”

  Quentin smirked, probably remembering how the two of them had kissed at the Brightwater. Slade stepped on his foot and Quentin’s little grin faded.

  “I know that you came here with the promise of a partnership,” she continued, “and the chance to work closely with me and help me make Whitesong Security an even greater business. I hate disappointing any of you.”

  Just spit it out already, I thought. I clenched my fists tightly at my sides. This was agony, not knowing if I’d be unemployed in a few minutes, or relegated to some minor security position where I wouldn’t get to see her or Slade or Quentin. I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

  “The truth is,” she said, “I can’t decide.”

  “Excuse me?” Quentin asked.

  Her cool business demeanor dropped, and I saw the vulnerable woman behind her mask. “I can’t decide. I kept hoping one of you would turn out to be a giant asshole, but it hasn’t happened and I know in my heart that it won’t. All three of you bring to the table the qualities I need in a partner. The thought of sending even one of you away—”

  She broke off, and her eyes looked wet. She blinked, though, and the illusion disappeared.

  “Anyway,” she said, “I spoke with Maisie, and Janet Ranns, my attorney. Together we drafted a contract for three positions of equal power.” She reached to the side, where a stack of black folders rested. Standing, she held one out to Slade, and then Quentin, and then me. “I’d like to offer all of you the job.”

  Relief washed over me, and all I could think of was that the four of us would stay together. We were a team, now. This wasn’t an issue of partnership or competition. All four, together.

  Ariana was still speaking, but I barely heard her. Something about the pay remaining the same and how we’d find all the details we needed in our contracts. Funnily enough, none of us guys had even opened the folders. We were too busy looking at Ariana and exchanging glances with each other. The relief I felt was mirrored on Slade’s and Quentin’s faces.

  Salary? Didn’t fucking matter.

  Benefits? Who the fuck cared?

  Accommodations? Perks? Vacation? Fuck, no. We had Ariana, and that was all we wanted. She stood before us, her plum-colored lips looking utterly kissable, her scent winding its way around me like something from a cartoon. My cock was stiffening in my pants, wanting to celebrate being with her by actually being with her. I imagined Quentin kissing her, and it was as if I’d been there, in his place, my lips against hers, my arms wrapped tightly around her. In a shaky voice, she said, “Well, I’ll give you some time to think it ov—”

  “I’m in,” Slade said.

  “Me, too,” Quentin and I said at the same time.

  “Oh.” She cleared her throat and twisted her hands together. “And we can give each of you your own apartment.”

  “And not have our living room anymore?” Slade asked in a scandalized voice. “Our couch?”

  I looked at Quentin. He looked, for a second, like he might consider getting his own apartment. “We’re all staying together, right?” I asked.

  Quentin tapped the table with his knuckles. “Right. I’d miss the Gamebox too much otherwise.”

  “Okay, then.” Ariana looked like she was trying not to laugh. “I’m sure you haven’t forgotten that Pelletier’s auction is tomorrow night. As my new partners, you’ll be running supervision alongside me, within the manor itself. This means, of course, that you’ll need tuxedos.”

  Slade’s face fell so fast, it was comical. “Really?”

  “I heard it from the client himself,” she said.

  “Guess I better get shopping,” Slade said.

  With a kind smile, Ariana said, “There’s a shop in The Halo where you can get fitted. Your suits won’t be custom tailored because there’s not enough time, but at least they’ll have a few hours to make some quick adjustments.”

  “Thank you,” Quentin said.

  She held out her hand. “Thank you...partners.”

  Staring at her hand, I said, “I think we should hug instead.”

  Her brown eyes flashed with surprise and pleasure. She walked around the corner of her desk in a pair of sleek, stiletto-heeled boots and held out her arms. I pulled her into an embrace. She fit against me like our bodies had been formed together from the very beginning.

  “Welcome to Whitesong,” she said.

  Reluctantly, I let her go so she could offer hugs to Quentin and Slade. I didn’t know how we’d gotten so fucking lucky, but I wasn’t questioning it. I was just going to enjoy working with this captivating, intelligent, beautiful woman who seemed to have ensnared my heart from day one.

  Slade punched the air with his fist before falling onto the puke-green couch. “Right on! We got the job!”

  Quentin’s celebration was a bit more muted—he barely smiled. “Congratulations,” he said to us both. But I could tell he was just as thrilled as Slade and I were.

  “We get to celebrate by...starting immediately?” I asked.

  “Suits,” Slade said with a disgusted look on his face.

  “Yes,” Quentin said, his voice soothing. “Tuxedos.”

  “I don’t wear suits,” Slade said. “Or tuxedos.”

  I had a tux for benefits at the Wentuffel, but that was back in Germany. “We should go get fitted or whatever,” I said. “Best to look nice for the first job.”

  “I don’t want a suit,” Slade said.

  Quentin shot him a look. “Tuxedo. And stop acting like an infant.”

  Slade lunged as if to attack Quentin. Quentin flinched, and Slade laughed.


  I shook my head. “We still gotta do this thing.”

  Each of our phones buzzed. I pulled mine out of my pocket to see a text from Maisie. Tux fittings in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late—I called in a favor and Rubio’s working on his lunch break.

  Slade visibly shuddered.

  Laughing, I said, “Let’s go.”

  Rubio’s shop was on the northeast corner of the Halo, with giant windows facing the street. Headless mannequins displayed a variety of suits and tuxes, including a tux that looked the exact same shade as Ariana’s lipstick.

  “Triple dog dare you to get that one,” Slade whispered, nudging me after we stepped into the shop.

  Quentin snickered from my other side.

  “Tempting dare, but no thanks,” I said.

  A lean man with a helluva handlebar moustache hurried forward and flipped the “Closed” sign on the door behind us. “Welcome,” he said. “Standard black tuxes for an evening event?”

  “That’s correct,” Quentin said. “We’ll need shoes, as well.”

  “Indeed,” the man said. His scent was completely normal—he was human, not shifter. We’d have to keep our conversation superficial. “I am Rubio, and I will take your measurements. Your tuxes will be available tomorrow at four p.m. I trust that will be enough time for you to ready yourselves for the event?”

  “It sounds amenable,” Quentin said.

  I was happy to let Quentin take point on this excursion, as he seemed more comfortable than Slade and me. He went first, standing up on a little round dais thing at the back of the store. I’d always bought my suits off the rack, so this was interesting to watch. Rubio ran that little tape measure everywhere, but Quentin talked to us in general terms about the auction as if nothing was happening.

  “That looks easy,” Slade said, hopping up on the dais after Quentin was done.

  Rubio ran the measuring tape up Slade’s inseam and Slade jumped. “What the hell?”

  “Measuring your inseam, sir,” Rubio said.

  Slade nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  After I’d been measured as well, the three of us thanked Rubio and held our boxes of new dress shoes, which Rubio had assured us would be perfectly fine for giving chase while running security. We stepped outside of the shop.

  “If someone’s gonna touch me that close to my dick,” Slade said, “seems like he oughta at least buy me a drink.”

  I laughed and slapped him on the back, and Quentin even smiled, too. Again I was struck with pleasure that we should be so lucky to all work together, and to work with Ariana. How things were going to shake out, with all three of us being a touch in love with her, I had no idea. But right at this moment, I couldn’t find it in myself to worry.

  Chapter Eleven

  Quentin

  The Brightwater was truly a symbol of wealth. After spending a little over a week examining the building, outbuildings, and grounds for flaws and weaknesses, I’d come to realize that Jacques Pelletier cared more about flaunting his wealth than he cared about any elements of real comfort. While I wasn’t about to suggest that a chartreuse sofa would enhance his feelings of self-worth, happiness, and comfort, perhaps putting forth that very suggestion was exactly what Pelletier needed to get that giant stick out of his ass.

  The Brightwater’s amenities were aesthetically pleasing, yet without any soul. It was as if someone had split up the comforts of the rich and jumbled them back together again without any consideration for how they would actually be used.

  But my diagnostics of form and function needed to cease, as guests were beginning to arrive. Not only that, but my attention was already struggling between the twin desires of doing my job well, and staring at the lovely woman at my side.

  Ariana West. My new partner. I had made it—full partner of Whitesong Security. Everything I had dreamed of achieving at the Curtis Corporation, although this dream had come to fruition under rather different circumstances.

  Ariana moved slightly, sending her intoxicating fruity scent straight to my nostrils. If I ever were so fortunate as to step inside her private quarters, I would have to search out the perfume bottle. Then again, a strong intuition told me that this scent of hers came from no bottle, but from the woman herself.

  Her gown was just as mesmerizing—a sleeveless silver sheath dress that drew my gaze to her breasts again and again. I imagined cupping them in my palms, feeling their weight.

  “Jacques!” a woman squealed, tearing me once again from my reverie.

  I shook my head. Fantasizing about Ariana was my new favorite pastime, but she wasn’t paying me to fantasize, and I had no desire to disappoint her on my first full day as her partner.

  Slade spoke, his voice coming through the inconspicuous earpiece we each wore. “Romeo and me are in place.”

  “Excellent,” Ariana said, her husky voice both at my side and in the device around my ear. She was pressing a hidden comm button which was camouflaged in a diamond bracelet.

  Surrounded by Ariana. It was a fucking fantasy come to life.

  “Quentin and I are in place, too.”

  I wrapped my arm around her waist—it was part of our cover. At a party like this, a woman like Ariana was bound to get plenty of notice because her beauty would naturally draw the eye. If she were already “attached” to someone, it would discourage men from hitting on her and distracting her from the job.

  I had to admit, I was happy to have this role tonight.

  She gave me a look out of the corner of her eye, as if to say she felt the same. I brushed a kiss against her temple. “Too much?” I said into her ear.

  “Not enough,” she whispered, so soft only I could hear her.

  “D’you mind, guys?” Taylor’s voice said in my ear.

  “Shit,” Ariana muttered, quickly letting go of her bracelet and disengaging her comm button.

  “I’ll get us some champagne,” I said, giving her side a brief squeeze before letting her go.

  “Not to drink,” she said.

  “Of course not,” I said with a grin. “What am I, an amateur? But look how everyone here is holding a glass. We’ll look out of place if we don’t.”

  “Good point.” She gave me an approving nod.

  I didn’t have to go far before a caterer wandered past, holding aloft a tray laden with champagne flutes.

  “Here you are, sir,” he said.

  I nodded my thanks and retrieved two of the flutes. By the time I turned around, Ariana was already being hit on. A man with salt and pepper hair was leaning toward her, his gaze locked on her cleavage. Jealousy flared in my chest, surprising me. I hadn’t felt this sensation with Slade or Taylor, so why did I feel it now?

  For her part, Ariana looked rather disgusted by the man’s attentions. I couldn’t hear her words, but her tone of voice was glacial. He gave her a cocky nod, but retreated.

  “Scum of the earth,” she said, when I reached her side.

  Struggling to keep my tone light, I said, “I hope you don’t mean me.”

  I wanted to chase after that cretin and pummel him for looking at Ariana in that way.

  “No, of course not,” she said. “That man was...oh, you’d call him something like odious, but I’ll just say he was an asshole.”

  “Asshole works,” I said.

  Pelletier was standing by the front door, greeting guests as they arrived. A woman stood next to him, smiling brightly. She was his date for the evening, a bear shifter whose clan had ties to Pelletier’s pack. Her bright smile was fake; she wasn’t thrilled by her position of importance, especially because Pelletier kept reaching over and pecking her cheeks with his no doubt champagne-addled lips. For someone as keen on tight security, he certainly was hitting the drinks hard tonight.

  Ariana took my hand in hers and we ambled across the room. I made eye contact with several of our men who were stationed at the arched windows spanning the grand foyer. According to Pelletier’s itinerary, he would greet guests in the foyer for approximately ten more m
inutes, and then move to the Renne Room upstairs, where the auction would be held. Our downstairs men would remain in place to check out the incoming guests.

  “Oh, Jacques, darling, I nearly didn’t receive your invitation,” a young brunette gushed while Pelletier kissed her hand. “I was on Daddy’s yacht and had just reached Crete, when my assistant called.”

  “I’m glad you were able to make it,” he said, his eyes roving over her sheer dress.

  Ariana didn’t quite suppress her shudder at my side, so I pulled her in tighter to me, wanting to offer her protection and comfort. She shot me a grateful smile.

  Pelletier nodded to the young man who stood at the woman’s side, but Ariana was already moving me away. “Just came from New York,” the man said, shaking Pelletier’s hand.

  “Welcome. I’m so glad Maeve brought you along,” Pelletier said.

  I turned around to see an even more glamorous couple come in. Two women, their hands clasped together, greeted Pelletier with air kisses near both cheeks.

  “Bonjour, Jacques, ça va?” one of the women asked.

  He responded in rapid French.

  My French was somewhat deficient, so I held out my wrist and pressed record on my comm unit. The conversation would be translated and then flagged by one of our off-site team members if there were any elements to raise concern.

  After the French women moved away, I hit my button again to speak to Slade and Taylor. “How’s everything upstairs?”

  “We’re good,” Taylor said. “Guests are starting to trickle into the Renne Room, but there’s nothing on display yet.”

  “Lots of chitchat,” Slade said, sounding disappointed.

  “Hopefully that’s all that happens tonight,” Ariana said. “Chitchat, and nothing else.”

  Making sure our comm buttons weren’t being pressed, I squeezed her hip. “You don’t want a little excitement?”

  She gave me a wicked grin. “I think I have plenty of that at home.”

  Not yet, you don’t, I thought. But I would give it to her, if that’s what she wanted.