Tangere Tales 3
Dance of the Dragon Sorceress
Basile and Rainger are sworn to defend and foster the baby dragons of the Eastern Kingdom. While searching for the heir to the dragon king's throne, they fall under the spell of a bewitching brunette. Desire takes a back seat to duty because they must find the baby dragon before it falls into the hands of the evil queen, Draconia.
Seeking shelter from a storm for herself and the odd little stray she picked up, Elaina takes refuge in the stronghold of the Knights of the Order of the Dragon. She's discovered sound asleep with the tiny dragon king curled up beside her, and mayhem ensues when the prince, the huntsman, and the seven knights learn firsthand she's not some damsel in distress.
When Draconia learns of the enchanting beauty who has stolen the hearts of the men whom she desires for herself, she sets a plan into motion that endangers Basile and Rainger's love for Elaina before it's barely begun.
Genre: Contemporary, Fairy Tales/Myths, Fantasy, Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal
Length: 73,478 words
DANCE OF THE DRAGON
SORCERESS
Tangere Tales 3
Heather Rainier

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
DANCE OF THE DRAGON SORCERESS
Copyright © 2017 by Heather Rainier
ISBN: 978-1-64010-665-9
First Publication: December 2017
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2017 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
DEDICATION
These stories required a stretch outside of my comfort zone. As long as I’ve wanted to be a writer, I’ve wanted to pen my own versions of these classic fairy tales. I didn’t know if I had what it took to step out of the contemporary world of Divine, Texas and give readers something a little different. But step out I did, and I am blessed to have several people to dedicate this series to.
The Tangere Tales are dedicated to my husband, who has taught me more than any other person about what it means to stretch out of your comfort zone.
They’re also dedicated to my friend, Morgan Ashbury, who checked all my French and verified that there is definitely a difference between “fucking French” and “French fucking.” (No offense to the French intended.)
And for the first time ever, this dedication extends to my very own lovely daughter, Juliet. She helped me plot the trilogy, laughing over dialogue, devising original fantasy places and names, and assisted in crafting secondary characters that are as entertaining as Fleur, Doop-Doop, and Flappy hopefully are.
Lastly, this series is dedicated to Lily, Angie, all the Facebook group admins, all the readers and bloggers, a phenomenal editor, and to my absolutely fantastic publisher, Diana. She was the one who told me, “Anything can happen!” She was right.
Seize the day, baby!
Love, Heather
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
I live in South Central Texas, writing the type of novel I love to read: more erotic and edgy than the mainstream, with plenty of sweet romance mixed in. My love of romantic fiction began as a teenager when my mom gave me copies of Kathleen Woodiwiss’s The Flame and the Flower and Bertrice Small’s Skye O'Malley. To this day I'm pretty sure that was her idea of the “birds and the bees” talk.
My husband and I met in a scenario very much like the ones I’ve written about. He was the alpha hero who stepped in when this “damsel in distress” needed rescuing from a nefarious pervert. It’s no wonder I went on to write erotic romance when I had him to inspire me.
When not pounding on my keyboard, I'm usually busy corralling my kids or loving on my smokin’ hot husband, who thankfully loves to cook.
For all titles by Heather Rainier, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/heather-rainier
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
About the Author
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
Landmarks
Cover
DANCE OF THE DRAGON
SORCERESS
Tangere Tales 3
HEATHER RAINIER
Copyright © 2017
Prologue
Mount Rainier National Park
Elaina White balanced on the cusp of a dilemma. In the pitch-black cave tunnel in front of her, she heard sounds of certain distress. On the other hand—literally—her vintage Timex Indiglo told her that it was now five minutes into this excursion and time for her to head back to the mouth of the cavern she stood in.
If she continued forward, she had no idea how long the flickering LED lightbulb in her tiny flashlight would hold up. She’d gotten it, along with a couple of others, as freebies at a writer’s convention, from one of her favorite authors, Veronica Benedict, along with her autograph and a nice long gander at the hot cowboy who’d been hanging out with her at her table. Not a model but one of her husbands—
“Mmmm-mmmeee!”
Scoffing, she whispered, “Head in the game, toots. This is not a time to be thinking about hot cowboys in denim, leather, Stetsons, and boots, and Lord have mercy, is it hot in here or is it just—”
“Mmmm-mmmeee!”
“Okay, I hear ya. The girls will wait an extra few minutes for me. Hang tight, pussy, I’m coming in!”
That is so wrong, on so many levels. You should be ashamed of yourself.
She held the flashlight up, trying to maximize the scant illumination. It flickered, and she bopped the end with the palm of her hand.
“Ms. Benedict, honey, we gotta talk about your promo suppliers,” she muttered, as bopping the flashlight only succeeded in making it go out completely. “Well crap. Don’t worry, sweetie! I’ll save you. Just don’t move. I’ve gotta feel around for you.”
“Mmmmmeee-mmmeee!” The distressed call tugged at her heart. Maybe it was afraid of the dark. I thought cats could see in the dark.
She and her best friends, Angel Hunter and Caresse Baker, had decided they needed a girls’ camping weekend away. Away from a cheating ex-fiancé, in Angel’s case, away from work, in her case, and, in Caresse’s case, the somewhat insistent need for an excursion into the wilderness.
Their families had been friends f
or a long time, and they’d grown up together going on camping trips, and the spot they’d set up in had long been the favorite. It’d been especially meaningful to Caresse’s adoptive parents since it had been the spot where they’d found her, abandoned as an infant.
Angel, Caresse, and Elaina had barely gotten the campsite put together when a large white cat had flitted past, looking like dinner for some hungry predator. The cat appeared as though it was used to living the high life, and the girls couldn’t stand the thought of it possibly being hurt or killed in the forest.
They’d followed it to the entrance of a cave she couldn’t recall ever having seen in all the years they’d been camping in that spot. Predictably, before they could get a hold of the animal, it’d slipped inside the cave.
Now here they were searching three separate tunnels. Caresse loved camping, but she was deathly afraid of dark enclosed places, and Elaina had sent her friend into the dark with a potentially defective flashlight.
“I’m almost there, baby. Just…” She felt around in the dark and thought she touched the tip of a tail, but it slipped away.
Making a kissie sound, she murmured. “Come here, sweetie. I know you’re scared.”
A humid breeze suddenly rushed past her, stirring her hair back, and sent a soft tingle down her spine. A vibration caused the ground to tremble, similar to when a large truck drove past the window of her basement apartment. Whenever that happened, in theory at least, she knew she was safe but was always aware that something large was moving past.
For all she knew, the sound might’ve been in her head, like her pulse or the sound of her breathing.
She heard a soft noise, almost like a purr, and crouched down, thinking she might be doing more harm than good by looming over the poor little beast. She could practically sense the cat just up ahead and inched forward.
“Mmmm-mmmeee?” It sounded as though it had retreated a little.
“I’m right here. Maybe you could meet me halfway? Psss-psss-psss, come here, sweetie.”
The sound of a slight shuffle was followed by a sudden thump and squeal.
“Mmmm-mmmeee!” The broken, crackling sound of its cry tore at her heart.
“Stay there, I’m coming. I’m coming.” On hands and knees, she spread her arms out and slid her hands across the dusty ground, searching for the kitty, hoping it hadn’t seriously hurt itself.
“You okay?” Only silence. “Hey, you okay?”
“Mmmm,” came a whimper, and she felt decidedly guilty at the sound.
“Did you fall down?”
Keep it making noise and eventually you’ll reach it. Although it seemed like she was following the tunnel farther and farther in. A quick check of her Indiglo reinforced what she already suspected. Her time was up.
“Pussycat, either we have a meet-and-greet tout suite, or I’m going back to my comfy campsite and toast some marshmallows, you dig?” Then speaking to herself, she muttered, “Seriously? You’re giving an ultimatum? Even in the dark the little beast can probably see the sign on your forehead. In flashing neon, it says “Sucker!’”
“Err?”
That was the oddest sound she’d ever heard a feline make. She’d never known a cat to exhibit confusion. Curiosity? Sure. Indifference? Definitely. Confusion? Not so much.
The sound of raspy breathing was followed by the brush of silky fur on her cheek. It carried a clean scent, like the ocean. “Oh, finally, here you are. Come to mama,” she whispered, indulging in baby talk to soothe it.
The cat responded immediately, purring and using its claws to clutch onto the strap of her backpack on her shoulder. It snuggled against her collarbone, sighing softly as though relieved, and went limp.
“You poor thing, you’re shaking. You’re safe now. Hey, what’s that?”
The little mite had a bump on top of its head. She recalled the cat they’d been chasing being large enough to fill her arms and probably her lap, too. And well fed. This bit of fluff weighed hardly anything, and its little joints stuck out at all angles.
“Let’s get you into the light.” The LED flashlight was useless, and she worried again about the possibility that she’d sent Caresse off with another of the possibly faulty flashlights.
She paused to listen for the sound of bloodcurdling screams, but all she could hear was her own heartbeat and the breathing of the little cat, still latched onto her like she was its lifeline. It rumbled against her as she stroked its narrow back, and it responded by rubbing its head against her throat.
“Must be another stray. Well, we need to get back. Wait…” Still on her knees, she leaned forward, and around what she surmised was a corner, she spotted a ray of filtered light. A shadow swayed in the light.
She checked her watch. It’d been ten minutes.
“Heck, both girls are back by now. When they realize I’m not back, they’ll probably come looking for me. You think maybe they found the other cat? We might as well explore a little, huh?”
“Mmm,” the cat murmured, purring in its odd little way.
“You must be the runt in the litter. You’re so tiny, and your little bones all stick out. I brought marshmallow Peeps with me this trip. You might like those, huh?” she murmured as she made her way down the slight incline to the opening.
Green light flickered beyond, and that vibrating sensation shivered through her again. There weren’t any highways even remotely close to where they were camping, so she didn’t know what could’ve caused it.
She stopped at the opening and squinted as she peered out. The cave entrance was shrouded with branches, which were waving around in the wind.
The light had a greenish quality to it, and she leaned farther out to look up at the sky. “Oh boy, I think we’d better wait right here. That must’ve been thunder I heard earlier. Sound travels funny in caves.”
A huge shadow suddenly passed over the area outside the cave, and a roar shook the ground.
The little mite on her shoulder sniffled and whimpered as it loosened its hold on her backpack strap, seeming drawn to the sound. “Mmmm-mmmeee!” It would’ve fallen, but she cupped it to her shoulder and murmured comforting sounds over its weak cries.
She pointed out at the lumpy blobs of clouds in the darkening sky. “You see those? Mammatus clouds mean hail is coming. Trust me, sweetie, you don’t want to be outside right now.”
The kitten seemed to scrunch closer to her, holding on tighter.
“Stay with me right here and we’ll wait for the storm to pass. Oh hells bells. Our campsite is going to get pummeled in this.” She groaned and blew at the clouds as if she had the power to make the storm go away.
A little puff of air brushed past her cheek, and she chuckled. Was the kitten copycatting her? “Let’s get a look at you since we’ve got time, huh?” She eased down to the ground by the opening.
Wiggling her shoulder, she gently grasped the body, trying to detach the claws from her backpack, succeeding only in getting them snagged in her long curly hair. “Ouch, easy, baby. Let me do it. You’ll get tangled.”
It made a trilling noise as she succeeded in getting it free and curled up in a little ball of fluff as she placed it in her lap.
“Don’t be shy. I won’t hurt you. The girls are gonna love you when they get here—if they get here. Hey…”
She rubbed its silky fur, a kind of nondescript grayish color, noting how scrawny and angular the poor thing was. Its little shoulder joints, whatever those were called on cats, jutted out at sharp angles.
“You know what I have in my backpack?”
“Mmmm?” it murmured, trembling a little, hiding its little face in her lap.
“I have a can of salmon. And you can haz some.”
“Mmmm?” it replied, distracted from the storm outside by her silly baby talk.
“So bashful you are. That’s okay. I don’t mind,” she said softly, brushing her hand over its scrawny little body. Its fur was oddly soft as if it was brand new.
“You
look like you haven’t eaten in a while. It’s a good thing I had it. You never know when you might need a snack, right?”
She eased the backpack from her shoulders and used one hand to comfort the little animal and the other to root around in the front compartment. After finding the short squat can, she pulled out a plastic spoon from the same compartment and a little box of crackers.
The top of the can gave a slight hiss when she popped the top, and the little body stopped trembling and went still.
“I thought that smell might get your attention. I’ll share with you, but you gotta be neat, okay? What are you saying, Elaina? Like it knows what you mean.” She supposed that came from working with babies and toddlers at the daycare where she was employed while she finished up her schooling.
Lifting its knobby head, the little beast turned it on an unusually long neck and looked up at her. Its eyes bulged when she screamed, and then it screamed and streaked back up to her shoulder, around her neck, down her arm and straight into the pocket of her backpack.
“You’re not a cat!” she squeaked as she peered into the pocket.
The poor baby, whatever it was, was peering out at her with fear in his pitiful little amber eyes. The pocket shook with tremors, and she made consoling sounds when she pulled back the edge and saw the way the little being’s lower lip trembled as it stared up at her. She might’ve been startled, but he was terrified. Get a grip, Elaina!
“Okay, okay, hold on. It’s okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. You just scared me is all. What are you? A baby owl? A hybrid squirrel? Oh, your mama must be so worried.”
“Mmmm-mmmeee!” The baby whatever-it-was used its little paw-like thingy with tiny claws and pulled the pocket open a little farther. It plucked at her heartstrings when its little lower lip trembled again. Extending its head closer to the opening, it spotted the popped open can lying nearby.
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