Dragon Unbroken: A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance (Spellbound Souls Book 2)

by Keira Blackwood

  “I’ve got interviews lined up,” she said. “I’ve narrowed it down to five candidates. Ideally, I’d like at least one of the partners there for each interview. When we’re closer to choosing, I want to make sure she’s got good chemistry with all three.”

  She. Chemistry. A flare of jealousy hit me. Odd. I’d never been the jealous type.

  Maisie squinted at me. “I mean, he or she can’t butt heads with one of the bosses,” she said. As if sensing my sudden concern, she added, “You shouldn’t worry. They’re all completely in love with you. They have been since they met you. It’s totally obvious.”

  “I’m not worried,” I said, and I didn’t want to be.

  “All right,” she said, and rose from her chair. “I still haven’t had the chance to get you a chai. I should head down to Big Beans and grab—”

  “It’s Saturday,” I said. “You can have a day off.”

  “I’ll take one when you take one,” she replied, and shut the door behind her.

  “Fair enough,” I said, but she was already gone.

  We could all use a day off, maybe to get away from all the phone calls and client demands. Shaking off the thought, I looked down at my phone and tried to decide who to call first.

  I needed to touch base with Bellpowder about the Lotus War urn that had been stolen from his home while he was vacationing in Malta. Belinda and her team had tracked the thief, a rogue sous chef, and apprehended him in a sleazy motel where he’d set up a meet with his buyer.

  Jorge had successfully transported the Gadalbon heiress through rival territory. Whitesong had handled these types of missions in the past, most often without incident, but I still found it disturbing that a young shifter woman required protection just because she and her potential mate would inherit her family’s territory. Cecil Montgomery, the Gadalbon Pride alpha, would be relieved to hear that his daughter had been safely delivered to the South Mountain Pride.

  I needed to follow up for Walter Borghese, who preferred a security escort each time he traveled across state lines. Every time he called, he requested Darcy and her team. Likely, Darcy would be back from maternity leave and able to take the job, but I wanted to double-check the dates.

  There was also Lionel Pruitt, who was searching for treasure at the bottom of the Arctic Ocean. There had only been three volunteers for that excursion, all polar bear shifters, which seemed to suit Mr. Pruitt just fine. The agreed-upon date of return was quickly approaching. If Pruitt wanted to extend his excursion, we needed to renegotiate his fees.

  All four calls needed to be made, but which first?

  My office phone rang, forwarded from Maisie’s desk because she was out. Well, that made the decision easy. First, I’d talk to whoever was calling me.

  “Whitesong Security, this is Ariana West.”

  “Ariana, it’s been forever.” The voice was soft and feminine. It took a moment for me to put a name to it. Emily Koenig.

  We’d met about five years ago, when I’d taken a job for the Allencloth pack. Richard, the pack’s alpha, hired Whitesong to arrange a meeting with a rival pack over a territory dispute. The situation had reminded me of the Lotus War. I’d wanted this conflict to go differently, so I took on the cause, even after I’d learned of Richard’s reputation.

  Instead of following through on the plan, Richard had drunkenly called for a duel just before negotiations were supposed to begin. He tried to cheat. He lost. He also never paid me, and it hadn’t been cheap to take a team overseas.

  I had vowed never to work for Richard Koenig again, but during my time in Switzerland, I’d befriended his daughter Emily.

  “Emily Koenig, is that you?” I asked.

  “In the flesh,” she said. “Okay, over the phone.”

  I smiled. “How’ve you been?”

  “I’ve been good,” she said. “I found my mate.”

  “That sounds like a great thing,” I said. “Congratulations.”

  “It is. Evan’s wonderful.” She paused and I could hear her take in a big breath. “But the pack’s fallen into some hard times. We lost more of our land, and it’s likely we’re going to lose our homes now too.”

  “I’m sorry to hear it,” I said, and I was. But I also dreaded the next part of the conversation, because this was the reason she was calling—she wanted Whitesong to help out the Allencloths. “That’s terrible.”

  “That’s actually why I’m calling,” she said. “I was hoping you could help.”

  I should have said no. Had it been her father who’d called, I would have, if I hadn’t hung up already. That’s likely why it was Emily on the line instead.

  “We have a lead on finding and cashing in on a priceless treasure,” she said.

  “Emily, I—”

  “I know you’re not a huge fan of my dad,” she said. “But it’s a real lead. We need this. I need this so Evan and I don’t lose our home. I’m pregnant, Ariana. Just consider it, please. You’ll get a generous cut. Whatever it takes. Please just consider it.”

  I sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Thank you so much,” she said. “We’ll get you all the details and you won’t regret it. Thank you.”

  “I can’t promise you anything, Emily,” I said. “Whitesong has a full list of clients right now. I would say no if—”

  “All I’m asking is that you look at the details,” she said.

  “All right,” I said. “Take care, Emily.”

  I hung up the phone and regretted the conversation immediately. I should have just said no. I couldn’t work with the Allencloth pack, no matter how much I liked Emily. I couldn’t work for Richard Koenig.

  Chapter Four

  Slade

  Taylor was installing some fancy security cameras for Mr. Bellpowder, which just left me and Quentin to battle the winged orcs. While Quentin’s mage kept my dwarf flying through the air, I slashed and jabbed with my scimitar. A single orc fell, and another one flapped wildly across the screen.

  It was nice to take a break. I’d been working extra hard the past few days. I kept my head down. I focused on my job—look over project schematics, support team leaders in the field. When I was working, and even now when I was relaxing, it was hard to ignore all the images in my head, the ones of Ariana naked. There was sex, lots of sex. I mean, I wasn’t complaining. Sexy thoughts of my gorgeous partner were always welcome. It was strange, though, because I’d never thought I was that creative with fantasies. And we hadn’t actually had sex yet. These mental images were real specific, and full of details I’d never have come up with on my own. Her breast in my hand. Her tight pussy, clenching around my dick. Her mouth falling open as I slid home. Me, tenderly looking into her eyes, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead.

  I shook my head. Maybe this time in front of the Gamebox was just what I needed.

  “Come on, Brains, get me over there,” I said.

  “I’m working on it,” Quentin said, his fingers jabbing the buttons on his controller.

  A second later, I started gliding to the other orc. I raised the scimitar to strike, but a giant ball of orc-fire coated me. My shields dropped with one hit. Somehow my health did, too. My dwarf fell to the ground.

  That was it. It was over, an hour pushing through the troll swamp, and I was dead from one mother-fudging fireball.

  “Crap!” I shouted, tossing my controller. It landed in the pile of chip bags. The bags were all that remained from our meal. Quentin made us all breakfast each day, but he refused to make lunch.

  “Any idiot can make himself a sandwich,” he’d said.

  Well, I thought, looking down at the junk food wrappers scattered around both me and him, any idiot could visit the vending machine outside the conference rooms, too.

  “That was your fault,” I said. “If you were a better mage, I’d have been over there to take off his other wing.”

  “I delivered you there,” Quentin said. “You’re at fault for not using the right weapon.”

>   “The scimitar is awesome.”

  “Your bronze scimitar is a noob weapon. For the orcs, you need to at least craft the platinum version. Ideally, you’d have picked up a unique weapon in the last dungeon. Like my Frostbringer. In addition to greater attack, it adds twenty percent cold damage.”

  I looked from him to the screen, and back again. “Whose game is this, anyway?”

  “It used to be yours,” he said with a smirk.

  “That’s it.” I lunged at him.

  He jerked away, and I laughed.

  “You look like a psychopath when you do that,” he said.

  That was one thing I’d gotten from my dad. An intense face, so I could intimidate people better. I liked to think most of what made me who I was came from my mom.

  I shrugged. “Wanna try again?”

  “Sure.”

  We waited for the level to load. I found a couple chip crumbs left in one of the bags.

  Quentin cleared his throat. “I wanted to talk to you about something, but you must promise not to laugh at me.”

  His gaze was stuck fast to the TV screen.

  “Uh, what is it?” I’d never seen him look so awkward before. I stared from the corner of my eye and fiddled with my controller, not wanting to pressure him or make him feel weirder. I hoped everything was okay.

  “It’s about dreams,” he said. “Do you take much stock in them?”

  “You mean like, if I dream about going to work and forgetting my pants, it means that I’m about to get a raise or something?”

  He shook his head. “No. Different kinds of dreams. Dreams about...people.”

  The way he said it helped me know right away what he was talking about. “You mean dreaming about Ariana?”

  “Yeah.” He looked at me, then away quickly.

  “I have those dreams too,” I said.

  He exhaled. “I’m glad it isn’t just me.” Keeping his eyes on the screen, where Defenders of Aerasummit was now waiting for us to start moving, he said, “Some of these dreams are extremely vivid. There’s one where I’m sitting on the edge of her bed. She unbuttons my shirt, then kisses her way down. When we have sex, she’s on top. It’s...absolutely incredible.”

  I stared at him. What were the chances? Would he even believe me? I clapped him on the shoulder. “I had the same dream. Is she wearing lacy purple underwear in yours, too? Does she keep them on during sex? ‘Cause she does in my dream.”

  “Yes, but that’s impossible.” He set down his controller. “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

  “Nope.” I didn’t want to think about it anymore, so I waved at the television. “Are we gonna do this, or what?”

  Still looking at me from the corner of his eye, Quentin picked up his controller, and we settled back into the game.

  Quentin and I hadn’t played for long when my phone buzzed on the coffee table. I paused the game and checked the caller ID.

  “It’s my mom,” I said. “Gotta take this.”

  “Of course.”

  Quentin set down his controller and wandered to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Ma,” I said.

  “Slade.” Her voice was soothing. Every time we spoke, I remembered all the work she’d done to take care of me and raise me. A tiny human woman, raising a dragon shifter? Not everyone would’ve been up to the task. But my mom was special.

  “You beat me to our phone call,” I said, smiling.

  “I know you were going to call at two,” she said. “I hope I’m not bothering you, but I just—I just—”

  I stood up. “What’s wrong?”

  In the kitchen area, Quentin froze. I waved at him and hurried into my room, where I closed the door. After listening to Quentin and Ariana the other day, I knew our bedrooms weren’t soundproof. Right now it didn’t matter if Quentin heard me talking. I just wanted to focus on my mom.

  “It’s…” She took a deep breath.

  “Is James there with you?” I asked.

  “He’s taking care of his sister today.”

  James, my step-dad, spent Sundays with his sister who had advanced dementia and needed to stay in a special nursing facility.

  “I forgot,” I said. “I can fly home right now if you need me.”

  “No, no, it’s okay. It’s just—your father called me just now.” She paused to take a big, shuddering breath. I knew what was coming, and my heart hurt. “Slade, he’s alive.”

  I’d believed Vosovich. I’d trusted my instincts. But somehow, hearing it from my mom cemented it as truth. He was alive.

  Now that I’d come to terms with it, I was pissed. “What the hell does he want?”

  “Slade, language,” she reminded me, and it was like my normal, not-upset mom was back for a second.

  “Sorry.” I ground my fist into my pillow, thankful that Princess Needleclaw was probably in Quentin’s room and not here to witness my anger.

  “He’s in trouble,” she said. “He wasn’t calling to ask for help or anything. Rather, he seemed to think that he might not...make it? I don’t know, I didn’t understand.” Her voice broke.

  “I can take some time off,” I said. “I’ll come see you.”

  “No, you just started your new job. How’s the cute boss?”

  I could tell she wanted to change the subject. “She’s great,” I said, smiling. “I really like her.” Love her, I thought, but that was an admission that needed to be shared with Ariana, first.

  “I’m glad. Listen, I’ll be okay. It was just upsetting to hear from your father unexpectedly. After all this time...I should have believed you when you were little. You always knew.”

  “I was a kid,” I said. “You did great, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this,” I said. “Vosovich called me a couple days ago. He might know something else that could help.”

  Why I had to get involved at all, after all these years, was beyond me. My old man hadn’t had anything to do with us. He’d let us think he was dead. Why should I do anything for him?

  The answer to that question was talking with me on the phone right now. He’d gotten my mom involved.

  “Sweetie,” Mom said. “I love you. I’m upset because I cared once for your father—I cared for him a lot. Whatever he’s up to, he brought it on himself, you hear? I just wanted to let you know what I know, because it only seems fair. But you don’t need to get involved.”

  “’Course not,” I said.

  We chatted about nothing for a few more minutes, mostly updates on her greenhouse garden, and by the time we hung up, she sounded happy again. But I knew she’d be thinking about that phone call with my father for a while. I hoped James would come home soon and sit with her.

  In the meantime, I had a phone call of my own to make.

  I dialed and waited for Vosovich to pick up.

  “Vosovich,” I barked.

  “Yeah?”

  “More is going on than what you told me. That jerk called my ma.”

  “Look, I don’t know a lot—”

  “You know more.”

  “More has happened. I didn’t hold anything back, Rouland, I swear.”

  I wanted to curse. But my mother’s soft “language” reminder held me back.

  “I just found out from a contact of mine. Your old man is in Germany, traveling through the Allencloth territory.”

  “And?” I growled.

  Vosovich rushed to answer. “And the Allencloths are after him. He’s got something they want, and they’re pissed. They’re banking their entire pack on this thing, and dude, they’ll kill him to get it.”

  A shifter group’s survival depended on territory. Any clan, pack, or pride would risk everything to keep territory. Not even a dragon could carry land away. It had to be an object. What did he steal from them that could be so important?

  “What’s the thing?” I asked.

  “Huh?”

  “What does he have that they want?”

  Vosovich gave a little chuckle. “Fuck if I know. S
ome mysterious treasure. There’s a lot of richie-rich nuts going wild over it. It’s like finding Atlantis or El Dorado or some shit. I wish I had more to tell you, but that’s all I know, I swear.”

  I sighed. There was nothing I could do about this. “Thanks for the info, Vosovich. And if you hear anything else, you need to call me ASAP.”

  “Sure thing.”

  I ended the call and tossed my phone on the bed. I needed to get out of here. I hated the thought of my father being killed, which pissed me off because I shouldn’t care one way or the other. Sitting around and thinking about it was too much. I needed the freedom of the sky.

  I burst into the common area of our suite to find both Taylor and Quentin standing up, staring at me.

  “What’s going on, Slade?” Taylor asked.

  “Nothin’.”

  “Something’s obviously upsetting you,” Quentin said. “You might as well divulge what it is.”

  “Just some problem with my father. No concern of yours. Or mine, really.”

  “Look, you might as well tell us.” Taylor pointed to the couch. “We’re going to worry until you do, and you wouldn’t want that, would you? Then we couldn’t do what we’re supposed to do, which is make Ariana’s life easier.”

  Ariana. The very thought of her settled my restless dragon a little.

  “I don’t know much,” I said. I ignored the couch where Taylor pointed. I’d rather stand. “Just there’s some treasure a pack or clan in Germany is after, and my dad took it from them or something, and they’ll do whatever it takes to get the treasure back.”

  “What’s the group?” Taylor asked.

  I’d forgotten he used to live in Germany, before he came here to Whitesong. “Allen Sloths or something like that.”

  “Allencloth?”

  “Yeah, that sounds right.” I looked pointedly at the door and jangled my bike keys in my hand. “So can I go now?”

  Taylor gave me a short nod. I walked past them, and Quentin gave me a brief clap on the shoulder.

  “Where are you going?” Quentin asked.

  “Driving somewhere so I can fly,” I said.