The Dragon Prince's Second Chance: A Paranormal Romance (Separated by Time Book 4)

by Jasmine Wylder

  “Was that good for you?” he whispered, grinning down at her.

  Penny gave him a smile back, eyes wide and starry. “Yeah. That was…. Amazing.”

  “Good.” He kissed her once more, long and lingering, before he rolled off her.

  He kept an arm around her as her whole body relaxed. She grinned sleepily at him. Within moments, her eyes had shut, and her breathing deepened. Warmund watched her, marveling at how beautiful she was, before he allowed himself to fall asleep as well.

  ***

  When he woke, the fire was almost out. The lantern still flickered on the table, casting a warm glow in the room. The burn in his chest had eased. When he experimentally stretched, the skin pulled, and a twinge of pain went through him, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle.

  A grin crossed his face as he assessed the rest of himself. The familiar heat of his fires burned away happily in his stomach. He took a deep breath, feeding them, and released a small puff. A short jet of flame, exactly the size he wanted, burst from his lips. Dread that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto washed away.

  After a year on Earth, after his fires had gone utterly out, there was a part of him that had feared he’d never get his flames back. That he would be a dragon, but not a true one. Unable to reach into the depths of himself and find his true center again. But his flames were back, and if they were back, that meant he would be able to shift into his dragon.

  His trunks were still around his knees, and Warmund carefully pulled them up before he slipped out of the blankets. Penny snored softly, not disturbed by his movements. He glanced at the bucket that held his bloody clothes and shrugged—he’d get new ones.

  Right now, he just wanted to fly.

  As he started for the door, sounds from the cots caught his attention. Lisa rolled over, pushed herself to a sitting position and smacked her brother.

  Warmund grimaced and quickly strode across the room. He plucked her from the cot as she reached to smack Mark again.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he whispered. “Your brother is trying to sleep.”

  “Play,” Lisa said seriously. “No sleep.”

  Warmund shifted her to his hip and glanced at Mark and Alex. Luckily, both boys were sleeping still. He shook his head and tried to shift Lisa’s position, so she was cradled in his arms. She instantly let out a sharp squeal. Penny jerked awake, bolting up on the floor.

  “What?” she gasped.

  Warmund grimaced. He got Lisa back to sitting on his hip, so she would stop squealing, then knelt beside Penny. “It’s okay. I’ve got her. Just go back to sleep.”

  Penny yawned. She looked confused for a moment, then nodded. When she laid back down, she was asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. Warmund smothered laughter at that and quickly took Lisa, who was starting to fuss louder, out of the room. Once they were on the move, she settled down and started to babble to herself. Warmund gently rubbed her back, shaking his head as he headed down to the meal room.

  “What is it with babies and deciding to be awake in the middle of the night?” he asked her once they were there. It was lit by a few lanterns, and a cook worked busily at the stove, probably preparing for the breakfast rush. Lisa giggled as he tickled under her chin. “You need to be sleeping.”

  The cook glanced over at them and smiled, before continuing his work.

  Warmund sighed and shook his head. What had Wildref been like at this age? He hadn’t gotten to know. His father used to tell him that as a baby he had been a night owl, but that he was more than happy to entertain himself at all hours of the night. Once, Indulf had gotten up in the morning to find Warmund had gotten into the fireplace and was curled up as a dragon, sleeping in the fire.

  “I knew then that my boy would be a strong, mighty prince,” he used to say when telling that story.

  Had he told his new wife the story about his first son’s antics? Or did he pretend like he didn’t even exist?

  Warmund let out an angry huff of breath. The real question was, what stories would he have of Wildref once Warmund was successful? What story would there be for Indulf to smile proudly at his daughter, puff out his chest and proudly declare, “That was when I knew my girl was going to be a strong, mighty princess.” Would Wildref blush at the compliment, or roll her eyes and make a snappy reply?

  “You’ve got a beautiful daughter,” the cook said, bringing over a glass of milk. “She’s a night owl, is she?”

  Lisa grabbed the glass and would have spilled it all over herself if Warmund hadn’t taken it and helped her sip from it. He thought about correcting the cook, but the dynamics of his and Penny’s relationship wasn’t any of the old man’s business.

  “Yeah, she is,” he said instead. She’d done this the previous night, too. “But that’s okay because I am, too.”

  The cook chuckled. “Bet her mother loves that.”

  Warmund gave him a polite smile. What did Penny think about all this? And what did she think their bit of fun meant? Surely, she understood it wasn’t anything important… right? She didn’t think it was anything more than it was? His stomach started to twist, but he pushed those unpleasant feelings aside. Penny was a big girl. She knew what one-night-stands meant. He didn’t have anything to worry about.

  Soon after finishing the milk, Lisa started to yawn again. She cuddled into his arms, watching the cook until her lids became too heavy. Once he was certain she was going to stay asleep, Warmund carried her back to the room and put her in the cot next to Mark. Penny now lay on the bed, the blankets a mess around her.

  Warmund thought about waking her. He thought about writing her a note. Instead, he moved the gold to the desk, blew out the lantern so it wouldn’t start a fire and slipped away.

  Penny and her children would be fine. He needed to regain his wings before it was time to change his destiny.

  Chapter Ten

  Penny

  Penny stretched out, a pleasant tingling in her muscles from the sex she’d had the previous night. She always loved the morning after. It always felt so good. Like every muscle in her body was utterly relaxed. Sleeping after having sex was always great, too. She never slept so soundly as she did when she was riding on those post-coital endorphins. Now she rolled over, patting the bed as she looked for Warmund’s warmth to curl up into.

  He wasn’t there.

  Reluctantly, she cracked open her eyes to make sure her hands weren’t playing tricks on her. When she saw that the bed was, in fact, empty, she pushed herself to her elbow and glanced at the space by the hearth. No blankets, no pillows, no Warmund.

  Maybe he’s still out with Lisa.

  Her heart jumped into her throat as her mind leapt to the worst possibility—that he had kidnapped her baby. She threw the blankets off and checked the cots. All three of her children lay there. Mark’s eyes were open, and he grinned at her but was content to just lay there. Alex was starting to stir, too, but Lisa’s eyes were firmly shut. This was the usual way things worked; she’d have time to change Mark’s diaper before Alex woke up and she had to change and feed him, and then she’d have to wake up Lisa to much grouching and fussing.

  As her bare feet touched the cold floor, she glanced around again. No sign of Warmund anywhere. Her heart started to sink. So that’s what it was, huh? She fell for it again. Falling asleep with the man she’d just shared her body with, only to find him gone in the morning.

  Why had she expected anything different with Warmund?

  Penny shook her head. She had been expecting something else because she was scared and alone; she had clung to him because he was the familiar thing. That’s all it was.

  I should have told him that Alex was his child.

  A shiver ran down her spine. Last night when he came back, she hadn’t once tried to tell him that he had a son. A son that, for all she knew, might disappear if he was successful. Her lungs froze up as her blood ran cold. Not for all she knew. If Warmund had no reason to be on Earth, then Alex w
ould never be conceived. Would he disappear from her arms even as she held him? Would she even remember?

  I should have told him. I should have begged him not to go. I should have given him a reason to stay.

  As her thoughts started to spiral out of control, the door burst open. Penny leapt to her feet, a cry of joy in her throat. She choked on it, though, when she saw that the man who entered wasn’t, in fact, Warmund. The instant dread, though, was short-lived. She recognized him; the scar on his brow and the thick braid down his back gave it away.

  “Thonis.” She sighed in relief at the sight of the familiar dragon. “Thank God you’re here.”

  Thonis stared at her blankly. That’s when she saw the sword in one hand and the short dagger in the other. He was dressed in full armor, too, and Penny’s eyes widened. She drew back from him, a gasp catching in her throat.

  “How do you know my name?”

  “I—” How was she meant to answer that? At this point, the dragons didn’t even know that time travel was possible! She swallowed dryly, her gaze on the sword. “I’m… I’m…”

  Mark, getting annoyed now, let out a sharp cry to let her know he was ready to get up. He sat up, drawing Thonis’ gaze to him. The toddler pouted, ignoring the strange man entirely and reached out to Penny. She picked him up, glancing around to see if there was anything she could use to carry all three of the babies with. Of course, there was nothing. Four men appeared behind him; they all scowled.

  “What is this?” Thonis demanded of her. He glanced at the spot on the floor where Warmund had been lying the previous night. In the light of day, she saw the bloodstains on the wood and the blankets she’d been curled in. “So, the infiltrator brought his mate and children with him to rob the palace?”

  Rob the palace? Penny’s jaw dropped. “What are you talking about?”

  One of the four men stepped in and grabbed a bag off the desk. It clinked metallically. “That’s an awful lot of gold for a woman wearing a dress that old.”

  Warmund had robbed the actual palace? What had he been thinking? She stared at the bag, then back at Thonis. He stared at her hard, his expression calculating. Completely unlike the kind, gentle face she knew.

  “We don’t know that she was involved in this,” one of the men said. “Eh, sweetheart? She might just be a prostitute that the—”

  “I am not a prostitute,” Penny snapped, heat rushing to her face. She got to her feet, holding Mark close to her chest. “And as for robbing the palace, I don’t know what you’re talking about, so you can just—”

  Thonis interrupted. “Watn, arrest her.”

  The four men started and stared at him. One of them looked doubtfully at her and then back at Thonis. “Uh, well, not that I want to disobey orders, but are you sure? I mean she’s holding a kid and—”

  “Then you take the child, and Jord will cuff her.” Thonis narrowed his eyes. “And if you cause us any trouble—"

  “I won’t,” Penny promised.

  Her heart pounded, and her throat was dry but that much she could say. Even though her legs trembled with the desire to run, and her heart pounded so hard that a bitter taste filled her mouth, she wasn’t going to cause any trouble. She’d do nothing to put her babies in danger.

  Even so, her mind spun. Nobody in the palace knew her. She had no idea when the attack was meant to take place or where Warmund was. Should she tell them everything? It sounded impossible… they wouldn’t believe her… if she warned them about the attack, then when it happened, they might even think that she was part of it.

  What was she supposed to do?

  Watn and Jord came forward. Both of them still looked uncertain but neither protested. Penny shied back when Watn moved to take Mark. Her protest caught in her throat when Thonis growled, though. Reluctantly, she handed her baby over to the warrior.

  “He needs a change,” she murmured. Tears brimmed her eyes. “They all will.”

  “We’ll take care of your children,” Jord assured her as he shackled her hands. “You don’t have to worry about him. I have a dozen younger siblings, I’ve changed my share of diapers.”

  He winked at her, which helped relieve some of her anxiety but not much. Once she was shackled, Thonis looked much calmer. He nodded to the other two, who went in as Alex started to fuss and grabbed her by the arms. Penny twisted, gazing worriedly at her children as she was dragged away.

  Where was Warmund?

  ***

  Penny never thought she’d actually be in a dungeon with dragons around. The irony of that stupid game they played so often—that stupid game that meant so much to her since she was never allowed stupid games growing up—was not lost on her. Only now, it seemed to be doubly ironic. Not in a funny way, either.

  As soon as she had been brought here, she broke down crying. Her mind went over all the possibilities of what she could have done, but that didn’t change her current situation.

  She was stuck here, in a prison, and she had no idea where her babies were or what she was going to do now.

  She wasn’t certain how long she had been there, crying and fearing what the future might bring, when Thonis came into the cell again, this time accompanied by someone that looked very familiar. It took her a moment to place his face as belonging to Volcant, Misty’s husband. She hadn’t spent enough time around him for his face to bring instant recognition.

  Penny wiped her cheeks and faced the two dragons. “Where are my children?”

  “They’ve been taken to the royal nursery,” Volcant told her shortly. “Now, how did your mate gain entrance to the palace without anybody noticing?”

  “He’s not my mate.”

  “Your lover, then.”

  “He’s not—"

  Thonis rolled his eyes. “We can smell him on you. Don’t lie to us.”

  Penny stared at him for a moment, shivering at how cold he was. Her shoulders hunched as she wrapped her arms around her waist. “I want to see my children.”

  Volcant stepped forward. “You aren’t in any position to make demands, human. I am well aware that there is a plot brewing against my king. You and your lover and clearly part of it. Don’t think that your children will protect you. We will assign them a new family if necessary; it was your own fault for bringing them here when you were—”

  “I wasn’t doing anything!” Penny exploded, unable to hold it in any longer. “I didn’t know he was going to try to rob the palace. He said he was going to look for a job, but I thought it just meant that he was going to leave me and the children on our own. I didn’t know he was going to be an utter idiot!”

  The two dragons looked unimpressed. They glanced at each other, then back at her. Anger welled up in her, and sparks of magic burst from her fingers.

  “You gotta believe me,” she growled, “I didn’t know!”

  The sound of rushing water made her jump. Her head whipped to the left and she gasped; the same glowing crack in time and space that heralded the coming of a portal glowed in the side of the dungeon wall. Even as she stared at it, though, it disappeared.

  Her heart hammered. Did I do that?

  Thonis and Volcant both stared at her. As Volcant opened his mouth, though, there was a shout from down the corridor. “We’re under attack!”

  Both dragons glared at her a moment longer then whirled on their heels and rushed off, pausing only to lock her back up. Penny rushed to the door, screaming after them. Under attack. The assassins. Were they early? It didn’t matter. They were here. Going after the royal baby—she’d be in the royal nursery.

  Along with her children.

  Chapter Eleven

  Warmund

  There was smoke rising from the palace.

  There wasn’t supposed to be smoke rising from the palace. Had he gotten the days wrong? Warmund flew as fast as he could, beating his wings hard. His fires leapt and roared, and smoke curled from his mouth. As he did a pass over the palace, he saw dozens of dragons in the courtyard, fighting with steel a
nd flame against their attackers. Magic sparked in the air. Bolts of it knocked dragons over as they rushed to attack the assassins.

  Warmund angled low, swooping toward the attackers and let out a lungful of fire. He dodged around the bolts of magic sent his way. One hit his wing and it went numb. Tingling and burning, it fell limp at his side. While he struggled to keep himself in the air with the other, he did a barrel roll and smashed into the wall of the palace.

  The impact left him dazed and confused; he groaned as he shifted back to his human form. His right arm hung useless at his side, and he hissed through his teeth. He staggered to his feet. Several of the assassins started his way but the guards quickly formed a shield between him and them. Warmund grabbed his numb arm with this left hand and turned on his heel, leaving the guards to it.

  He remembered this scene, looking from his room to see the assassins in the courtyard. Thinking that they couldn’t get in and rushing down here to help. Leaving Wildref vulnerable. He had to get to her now.

  “Prince Warmund!” a guard rushed to help him. Warmund gratefully took the help, letting the man support him and carry him into the palace. “What do I need to do?”

  “Give me your belt,” Warmund hissed. “I need to stop this arm from flopping around.

  The guard pulled him around a wall to keep him well away from the attack and pulled off his belt. He fastened it around Warmund’s chest, wrist tucked up near his shoulder, to keep the arm in place. Then he glanced up at Warmund’s face and froze.

  “You’re not the prince!” he yelled, eyes widening.

  Warmund chuckled. “Too old?”

  Even as the guard lifted his sword, Warmund grabbed the back of his neck and smashed his face into the wall. The guard went down, groaning in surprise. Warmund grabbed his sword and rushed down the corridor. He let his feet take him the familiar path to the nursery. When he got closer, he heard the crying of babies from the other side—multiple babies. His heart jumped to his throat as he rushed in.