Dragon Unbroken_A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance

by Keira Blackwood

  No, we were going to develop a strategy to end all of this and get out of here before we needed to worry about any interpersonal dramas.

  I needed to get back to Emerald Pines soon. Curtis would be clamoring for information which I was reluctant to give. Betray Ariana? Never. But handling the situation with my former employer was going to require finesse. Finesse was going to be difficult when all I wanted to do was tell him to go fuck himself.

  When I went back in, I sat behind Ariana.

  “How is this any better than what we’ve been doing over the past month?” Heather’s voice was raised as she stared daggers at Victor.

  “It’s a plan.” His jaw was tight as he attempted to hide his frustration through what was likely not a new disagreement.

  “Whether they’re wandering around or being directed, they’re still out there,” Heather said. “We’re still in here.”

  “It’s a decent plan,” Ariana said. Heather and Victor kept their attention on each other, but she continued, “By directing the Allencloth pack away, we should be able to clear a path through the Braunbar territory to safety.”

  “How long?” Heather asked, her eyes still glued to Victor. “How much longer am I supposed to be caged up in this cave?”

  “However long it takes,” he replied.

  I had to admit that my opinion on the matter aligned with that of the outspoken heiress.

  Taylor leaned back so he could whisper softly enough so as not to be heard by the others, “Hiding behind Ariana, huh? Does the treasure scare you that much?”

  “Shut up,” I said.

  She didn’t scare me, she was just a little more aggressive than I was used to in a woman I wanted nothing to do with. I didn’t mind aggressive women in the slightest. There was nothing sexier than a powerful woman who knew what she wanted and took it. Even there in the cave in front of everyone, I would have enjoyed being thrown to the ground, the clothes torn from my body, had it been Ariana doing it.

  “With that settled, one thing has been bothering me,” Ariana said to Victor. “You said Gabriel Christianson isn’t dead.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Slade

  “Not when I saw him,” my dad said.

  I kept my eyes on the floor. It was still hard to look at him. Finally hearing his explanation had been good, but it hadn’t magically healed the rift between us.

  I wished he’d never left home, never gone to Badinor. But none of that mattered. It happened, and this was now.

  “When exactly did you see Gabriel?” Ariana asked him.

  “About seven years ago,” he said.

  I looked up, eager to hear the story despite the hurt in my heart.

  My dad swallowed hard and started talking. “It was hard to remember when it happened—the moment I’d transformed from proud soldier to cowering cockroach. There was no single defining event, but a series of endless days, endless wear on my resolve. The sound of footsteps caused my heart to race, the presence of light burned my eyes. It was the fate of all who ended up there in the pit.”

  “The pit?” Taylor asked, his voice soft with sympathy.

  “Yeah,” Dad grunted. “A giant network of tunnels beneath the dunes and mountains. They led to bunkers. And one section had been hollowed out even more, into a pit for prisoners. After the torture and tiny cages, when the mind broke and the body faltered, we were dragged to the pit. It was a garbage chute for those who were meant to die.”

  Heather’s eyes were wet with unshed tears. “How long were you there?”

  “I lost count of the days. I was too injured to shift and escape for a long time. But it was the memories of my wife and son that kept me alive. It was the hope that one day I would see them again.”

  I tried not to react and I kept my body still. I didn’t want him to know his words had an effect on me, but they did.

  “Then one day my buddy Rue said, ‘They’re coming’. He hardly ever spoke. When he did, it was because the lights returned.

  “Thirty feet above our heads, I could hear distant footsteps in the tunnel. Little beams of light bounced through the darkness, some through the grate above us. I’d prepared for this, worked my atrophied muscles back to health. My many wounds had healed. My non-shifter friends weren’t so fortunate. Their bones were shattered, their organs were damaged. I’d seen many prisoners during my time in the pit. None survived more than a week. Except for me.

  “The light grew closer. I tried not to squint. I told my friends to get back as far as they could. I hadn’t shifted since I’d been captured, but this was my only chance. Milton and Rue, my friends, weren’t sure what to make of my change. They probably thought they were hallucinating. Voices carried above me. It was bright by the gate. Too bright.”

  I felt my breathing change as I listened to my dad’s story. He’d always told good stories. This one, though, was horrifying. I’d been in Badinor. I’d heard of places like the pit. I looked up, caught Dad’s eye. His face was grim, sorrowful. He hated remembering this kind of thing.

  “The gate opened,” he said, “and the weekly slop dropped down on my neck. It rolled off my scales, and I took my chance. I breathed, deep and heavy, letting out the fire from within. Screams filled the darkened space. I clawed my way from the bowels of hell, reached the tunnel that would lead to my salvation. But I couldn’t leave my friends.

  “I dropped my tail down in the hole, one last offer to the men who’d suffered alongside me.

  “‘Get the hell out of here, you dumbass,’ Milton yelled. ‘Go.’

  “I waited a moment longer, but neither one grabbed my tail. They wouldn’t come. I knew they wouldn’t, but it still hurt to leave them behind.”

  No, we didn’t leave fellow soldiers behind. It must have killed my dad to do that.

  “I forced my way out of the tunnels. The sky was dark and gray over rolling dunes of sand, no sign of the moon. I stretched my wings and felt the cold fresh air wash over me. It had been far too long since I’d had space. Milton had told me to go southwest. That was where I headed, in search of a small village.

  “Finally, I reached the village. I shifted back to my human form under the cover of darkness. I found a pair of pants on a clothesline and pulled them on, then approached the alley with the tree that Milton had told me about. A box truck waited beneath the tree, cracked open in the back. The metal track rattled as I lifted the door enough to see inside.

  “The scent within was one I’d grown accustomed to—terror. Human men, women, and children huddled together, hiding their faces, hiding in blankets. No one spoke. No one moved. It wasn’t until I climbed inside that I noticed the scent of fire and flame—the man in the darkest corner of the box was a dragon.”

  “Christianson,” Ariana hissed.

  My dad nodded. “No one sat beside him. In fact, the others crowded together as far from the dragon shifter as the small space allowed. It left a place for me. There was something wrong with him, an injury.”

  Ariana made a strangled sound. Taylor touched her hand, soothing her.

  Dad paused, then continued, “I took a seat beside him on the floor and waited. While I waited, I thought about what I’d do next. The first thing I’d do was report the position of the bunker. The second, I’d return home. How much time had I missed? How big would my son have grown? How many milestones had I missed? Would he and Olivia ever forgive me?”

  I hadn’t. I hadn’t really forgiven him. Until now.

  “It was impossible to tell how much time passed in the truck,” Dad continued, “but eventually it moved. The road was rough, more pothole than asphalt. The truck jostled and shook as it went. On a particularly nasty bump, the man beside me groaned. He was big, though not as big as me. His greasy hair hung down over his face, covering his eyes. His jaw looked clenched in pain.

  “I asked him if he was okay, and he said no. He looked up, revealing a deep, partly-scabbed gouge covering half of his face. The way he held his side told me that the wound on h
is face was the least of his worries.

  “‘We’ll cross the border soon,’ I said. ‘Return to camp, finally go home.’

  “‘You assume I’m a soldier?’ he’d asked.

  “‘You don’t look like a local.’

  “I thought maybe he was a reporter, but he said he wasn’t that, either. We rode in silence a while longer before he spoke again. He introduced himself as Gabriel Christianson. We shook hands. He said he was recovering from magical wounds. Said he’d need strength for revenge.

  “When I asked him who he needed revenge on, he pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket. It was a photograph with a tall building in the background, a woman in front. Her hair was dark, her skin tan. She wore a black dress and red heels.”

  On the other side of Ariana, Taylor and Quentin visibly grew tense. Ready to protect her. I knew how they were feeling, because I felt the same way. I’d done everything short of wrapping my arm around her to shelter her from my dad’s story.

  Oblivious, Dad said, “I asked him if she’d given him his injuries. He said, ‘She did worse.’ And that’s all we said to each other. But I would never forget that scarred, angry shifter.”

  Ariana’s back was straight, her jaw tight. I took her hand.

  “I saw your picture in a news article later,” Dad said to Ariana. “That’s how I knew it was you, back in the woods.”

  Quentin was pacing behind the others, wearing a path in the cavern floor.

  “Where did he go?” Ariana asked. Her voice was cold, her tone curt.

  Dad shrugged. “It was seven years ago.”

  Quentin paused his pacing and circled around, his eyes darting straight to Heather, then to Ariana.

  Heather smiled. Quentin went back to pacing.

  How were we all going to share this small cave while we waited for the Allencloth pack to pass us by? It was difficult to say how long it would take.

  My dad settled his back against the cold wall of the cavern and waited, just like he had in that truck in Badinor.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Ariana

  I walked back to the cave, Taylor’s hand in mine. Five days had passed. The satphone was working here, just like Victor had promised, and Taylor and I had been on our daily fake check-in call with Koenig. We’d told tales of traversing the western half of the forest, of Victor’s fictional trail, of how hard we were working and how close we were to finding the treasure. It was getting more and more difficult to keep calling the treasure an “it” and not a “her.”

  “We can’t keep up this holding pattern,” Taylor said. “Maybe old Victor is happy camped out here for eternity, but we have to wrap this up, get back to Emerald Pines.”

  “Quentin will be back soon,” I said. We’d taken turns scouting the eastern edge of the Warzenschwein forest, through the heart of the Braunbar territory. If it were up to him, Quentin would have spent the entire five days that had passed on scouting duty. We’d spotted a few of Koenig’s men, but for the most part our plot seemed to be working. The majority of the Allencloth forces were nowhere to be seen.

  “Koenig’s distracted enough,” Taylor said. “We should move.”

  It had been weighing on me, too. Five days in one spot, trying to keep Koenig out of our woods.

  “He sounded impatient,” Taylor said.

  I gave a little laugh. “What’s new?”

  “You sure know how to pick the best clients.”

  I nudged him with my shoulder. “Maybe not, but I pick the best partners.”

  Victor stood outside the cave, obviously listening to our conversation.

  “Tell me again why we haven’t sent Heather back to the Braunbar?” Taylor asked, intending for Victor to hear.

  I wouldn’t mind another explanation myself. Watching Heather fawn over Quentin was getting old. Quentin, for his part, had been dodging her advances, taking long scouting trips, and hiding behind me as much as possible. But even with our outings, we still had six people in one tiny cave...it wasn’t working.

  Four, though—just me and my guys—that would’ve been perfectly cozy.

  As far as Heather and Victor were concerned, I was “with” Taylor. They didn’t know that I’d also fallen in love with Slade and Quentin. Hell, it had been pretty difficult for me to wrap my head around in the beginning. Pretending we had a more traditional relationship made things simpler, but it was also exhausting.

  With a grouchy expression on his face, Victor said, “Koenig’s got his fighters surrounding the Braunbar territory, that’s why. We need to do recon, find the weakness in their lines.”

  “We’ve been doing just that,” Taylor said. “At some point we need to make a move and get this over with. Why put it off?”

  Victor’s gaze flicked toward the cave entrance, and a soft look came over his face.

  “Ho-ly shit,” Taylor said. “You’ve fallen in lo—”

  “Don’t,” Victor said.

  Suddenly, it made sense why Victor scowled every time Heather flirted with Quentin. Why Victor took more and more trips outside to “gather firewood” and I heard him cursing at the trees.

  “You should say something to her,” I said.

  “I’m an old man. She deserves better.”

  Taylor shook his head. “You’re a fucking dragon, dude. We’re young practically forever. It would be a perfect match for you two.”

  The high-pitched sound of Heather’s laughter reached our ears, followed by her exclamation, “Oh, Q! You’re too funny!”

  Quentin was back. But Q? I thought. Oh, no. The flirting, the touches, the giggles. This had gone on long enough. I dropped Taylor’s hand and marched into the cave.

  The ever-present lantern at the side gave off the familiar light, sending black and gold shapes along the walls. The scene was spookily romantic. Slade was napping on his sleeping bag—or rather, pretending to nap. Quentin held a knife and a piece of wood in his hand. It looked like he was trying to whittle something.

  As I watched, Heather reached around him. “Can I hold your stick?” she asked. “Please?”

  I stomped toward them.

  Heather looked up. “Hey, Ariana.”

  “Hey, Heather.” I stood directly in front of Quentin. “Quentin, can you stand up for a sec, please?”

  Immediately he hopped to his feet, so we were standing toe to toe. My eyes were level with his sexily-stubbled chin, and if I leaned forward a fraction of an inch, my breasts would brush against his long-sleeved thermal.

  Without a word, I stood on my tiptoes, arched my back, and took his face in my hands. He crashed his lips to mine, his tongue delving into my mouth immediately. I’d intended to make a point with a quick kiss, but instead I was breathless, being carried away. He gripped my hips in his large hands, anchoring me to him as he teased with his tongue inside of my mouth. Our time in his room back at the Arrow came to me in flashes, and I wanted nothing more than to experience that again, feel his length stretching me, the friction building, igniting me until I shattered.

  Somewhere behind us, Taylor cleared his throat.

  I didn’t want to let go. It had been too long. Still, I stepped back from Quentin and stared into his blazing blue eyes. “Hi,” I said.

  “I’ve missed you,” he said.

  Heather was looking from one of us to the other. “I, um, think I misread some things.”

  I turned and took her hands in mine. “That wasn’t your fault. We weren’t exactly open, and I’m sorry about that.”

  As soon as I let go of Heather’s hands, she glanced over at Taylor. “And...you’re cool with this? Did you two just break up?”

  “Yes, and no,” he said.

  “Waaaait.” Heather’s pretty nose scrunched up. “So, Ariana’s with both of you?”

  “And me,” Slade added from where he was now sitting up on the floor.

  She whistled and looked between the four of us now. “Lucky dragon. So how does that work—”

  “And that’s enough,�
�� Victor said. “That’s their business, not ours.”

  “Bossy like usual,” she said, rolling her eyes.

  “Let’s all have a seat,” Victor said. “If you will. Please. I wouldn’t want anyone to feel bossed.”

  The sarcasm in his voice was thick, and Slade laughed.

  Quentin sat on the floor and pulled me onto his lap. I leaned back, allowing him to support me. I’d enjoyed pretending to be just with Taylor and spending all that time with him, but I’d missed my other guys, too. It was nice not to have to pretend anymore.

  “Did you find anything?” I asked, leaning into Quentin’s chest.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Just like the last three times I went out.”

  “We’ve got to return Heather to her clan,” Victor said. I turned to him. He looked uncomfortable, just like Slade looked when Taylor and Quentin teased him about the Vibrator. “Ariana and Taylor were talking a few minutes ago, and what they said is true—for a few different reasons, I’ve held back.”

  Heather looked like she was going to ask what those reasons were, but Victor pressed on.

  “While I don’t know where we’ll go from here,” he said to her, “it’s got to be better than this tiny cave in the middle of the forest. This is no way to live. So we need to take the chance, make for the edge of the forest.”

  Heather nodded. With a quick look at Quentin, she said, “Yeah that’s probably best.”

  “We can go like we’ve been, recon on our own. But it would work even better if we could coordinate with your clan, Heather. Is there a secure number to call so we can arrange something?”

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll have to leave a message and wait for a return call. Can we get incoming calls on the satellite phone?”

  Victor nodded.

  I fished the phone out of my pack and handed it to her.

  Her fingers shook, and she nearly dropped it. “Sorry,” she said. “I’m scared.”