by Misty Malloy
“You got your fifth petal last night,” continued Jackson, and both our gazes flicked to my flower. Jackson lightly touched it, and tendrils of yumminess spread all throughout me.
My last petal. Ronan.
My mating mark was complete.
And now…a baby!
Before I could really think about what that meant, the door burst open and my four other dragons traipsed in.
Drake immediately came to my side. I sat up in the bed while he cupped my cheeks in his huge hands and gave me a passionate kiss. “Congratulations, amore!” he exclaimed once we’d both come up for air. “I am so excited to be a father.”
Ethan carried a large tray piled with food and placed it on my lap. “I am, too,” he said, a grin on his steady, calm face.
“Thank you. But—” I started, thinking that was impossible. Biologically speaking, at least. Only one of my dragons was the actual dad…
“All of us are dads here,” said Trey, as if reading my mind. He placed three glasses on my tray—orange juice, water, and something sort of reddish-purple, and then gave me a sheepish look. “I didn’t know what you wanted to drink, so I just brought a bunch of stuff. The last one’s cranberry juice, not fire water, you know, because of the…um…baby.” He made an awkward rubbing gesture over his own belly, and then grinned when I laughed.
“Don’t worry,” I told him. “I never drink the stuff.”
And now I had a great excuse to not drink it for a whole nine months. Hell yes.
I’m going to do the best I can, Trey added, sending this last thought right into my head. I have no idea how this parenting thing is supposed to work, but I’m going to give it my best shot.
I smiled at him, understanding his apprehension about the whole thing, but also knowing he was underestimating himself—I had no doubt he’d be an awesome dad.
Ronan, who had been hanging back by the doorway, now came forward to place a vase of fire lilies on the bedside table. He didn’t smile or say anything, but his gaze burned hot and bright, matching the intensity of the flowers. I didn’t miss the flicker of happiness and contentment in his eyes.
I glanced around at all of my dragons. Five mates. Five dads.
Five men who loved me just as much as I loved them. I’d been so worried about the paternity issue that I’d never bothered to realize they all wanted this, too. It honestly didn’t matter who the biological father was, because we were all in this together.
So much was up in the air right now, such as where we would live, or even how Ronan would fit into the picture. But I knew one thing for sure—we were a family now, tied together by the mating bond. The looks in everyone’s eyes told me they all felt the same. And once we had healed the orestaia, we could figure the rest out.
The amazing smell of food had me gazing down at my breakfast tray, piled high with eggs and toast and fruit. And a ginormous plateful of bacon.
“Wow. This is all great—but it’s kind of a lot of bacon, right?”
Enough to feed a freaking army of dragons.
Ethan shrugged. “Talk to Drake about that. He’s the one that made the bacon. I was in charge of the eggs, and I feel like I made the perfect amount.”
Drake gave an indignant look and popped a piece of bacon into his mouth. “There can never be too much bacon!”
I laughed. “Okay. You’re all going to have to share it with me then.”
So then all my dragons joined me on the bed—my own personal army of dragons—because they didn’t mind sharing, and we all munched away on my breakfast-in-bed.
29
Ryker
I raised my fist to knock on the hotel door, then stopped myself for what seemed like the hundredth fucking time.
Think about this, Ryker. Just think.
Or better yet, make a fucking decision.
This morning I’d already been in my plane, ready to go. Back to Colorado. Back to…whatever.
But for some reason, I turned around. Came back to town. Found myself at Sven’s hotel.
I swore I’d never work for him again. But…curiosity gnawed at me. I couldn’t help it. He’d mentioned the fertility stone, and by the sweat of the gods, I wanted to know what the hell was going on. So much, even, that I’d found myself back here.
It wasn’t like I had much going on at home anyway. A slight delay wouldn’t make much of a difference.
Stay or go. Stay or go.
Fuck.
Hell, I didn’t even know if he’d still be at the hotel. Maybe a sexy maid would open the door instead. I felt a smile curl on my lips and I chuckled out loud. Damn. That would honestly make my day a lot better.
I sighed. No more daydreams about sexy Susie with the big titties. I really needed to shit or get off the pot.
So I lit a fire under my own balls and knocked. The sound carried down the hallway of the fancy resort and then I waited.
And waited.
I turned to leave when the door opened. Sven, looking like quite the dapper badass in a dark blue suit, stood in the doorway. “Ryker. Took you long enough.”
Always a dick. What did I expect?
I shrugged, not bothering to say anything. Not really seeing a point.
“Come in.” Sven opened the door wider, and I walked into the fancy-schmancy hotel room. Way nice, much nicer than my mediocre motel near the highway. “We were just about to check out.”
“We?” I glanced around the room but didn’t see anybody else.
“Yes. I’d like you to meet my friend. He’s out on the balcony.”
So then I followed Sven out through the patio doors. A huge-ass bearded guy sat out there, wearing a cowboy hat and boots. He smoked a cigar and held a whiskey glass in his hand.
Torm Troilus.
Oh, I’d never met him personally, but I’d heard about him. Blackfire dragon dirtbag. Conman. Billionaire.
What the fuck was Sven doing in Sedona with him?
“Ryker, this is my colleague, Mr. Torm Troilus.”
Torm knocked back his whiskey and shook my hand. “Nice to meet you,” he drawled. One hundred percent sleazeball oozed out of him.
I decided to cut all the bullshit. “Tell me. Why did you ask me here?”
Torm laughed, a loud, raucous belly laugh, and poured himself another glass of booze. “I like him already, Sven. Good choice.”
Good choice? For what?
“Really,” I said, looking at Sven. “You mentioned the orestaia. What’s the deal?”
A hint of a smile curled on the silver dragon’s lips. “You’re curious. I knew you’d come.”
I felt my eyebrows narrow. My inner dragon seethed with irritation. I didn’t like being fucked with.
“Aww, come on,” said Torm. “Don’t toy with him, Sven. Show it to him. Here, I’ll come with you.”
Torm hoisted his huge bulk off his chair, and the three of us went back inside the room. Sven disappeared into the bedroom and came out with a black case, and set it on the coffee table. He clicked open the lock and flipped the lid.
I peered inside to find a large, perfectly octagonal cube, gray in color and made of some sort of shiny metal. Almost like something looted from an alien spaceship.
I stared at the strange object for a few moments, then glanced up at Sven and Torm in confusion. “Okay. What’s this?”
Torm grinned and puffed on his cigar, not seeming to care it was a non-smoking room. “The new orestaia.”
“The new fertility stone? What’s wrong with the old one?”
“Dead,” said Sven. “I developed this one at Andersen Technologies, and it will be the old stone’s replacement. Made of trillions of tiny molecules that are perfectly adapted for absorbing ancient fertility energy.”
“Okay,” I said, shaking my head, baffled by all of this. “Where did you get the energy?”
“Rumor has it that Sedona’s chock full of ancient breeding grounds,” said Torm. “They’re only known to a few dragons, since the locations have never been writ
ten down. I know of three of them, because hell—I’ve got the hookups. So Sven and I went to each one, and let the new orestaia soak up all the good stuff.”
“You depleted three ancient breeding grounds of fertility magick?” Disbelief echoed in my voice. That seemed pretty fucked up to me.
“Of course,” said Sven, not seeming the least bit apologetic. “The new stone can absorb even more.”
A bad feeling settled itself in my gut. Sven and Torm, suddenly best buds. A weird new fertility stone. Stripping sacred ancestral dragon grounds of magick.
I stared at the object again and then touched it. Nothing happened. No flow of energy. “It doesn’t seem to be active,” I pointed out.
“It needs to be activated,” said Sven, “and that can only happen when the original orestaia is destroyed, in the same place where it was forged. We thought that was here, in Sedona, although we didn’t know the exact location.”
“We were waiting on Ethan Knight to tell us where,” added Torm. “But it seems like we were wrong. The birthplace of the orestaia isn’t in Sedona. It’s on the island of Vis, off the Adriatic coast.”
“Ethan?” I asked, recognizing the name of the Skywing clan leader. “He’s in on this, too?”
“No.” Torm laughed. “That cocksucker’s got no idea what we’re up to. It’s been fun having him jump through hoops.”
“I don’t get it,” I said. “Why not just heal the original stone?”
“It’s time for ancient magick to meld with technology,” said Sven. “It’s also time for a new organization of dragons. A new Guardian, for one,” he added, gesturing to Torm.
“And a new Alpha, one to rule over all clans. Like Sven, here,” said Torm, grinning broadly and giving the silver dragon a hard clap on the back. “It’s time people realize the true power of the Seekers.”
An…Alpha? But not even once in all history had dragons chosen someone to rule over all. Each clan had always been its own entity, and they’d all lived together in peace.
The clarity of the situation hit me like a bucket of ice to the face. Torm and Sven both wanted power in different ways. Working together, no doubt they could make it happen.
“Ryker, this is where you come into play,” said Sven. “With the Blackfire and Seeker dragons behind us, we will be incredibly strong. And with the Crimson Forge warrior clan behind us as well, I think we may be invincible. Drake Forleo, however…we do not think he will follow us in our vision for the new orestaia.” He paused, his icy cold gaze holding mine. “We want you to be the High Commander.”
I stared at both of them with incredulity. The High Commander was an extremely prestigious position. One I didn’t think Drake Forleo would easily give up.
“How do I become High Commander?” I heard the words come out of my mouth before I had a chance to think much about them. I didn’t want this…did I?
“There are lots of ways to get rid of someone you don’t want around,” Torm drawled, tipping his hat in my direction. “Why don’t you come join us in Vis, Ryker, and you can find out?”
The End
Thank you so much for reading Singed! Want to know what happens with Lyssa and her guys on Vis Island? Stay tuned for Ignited, the third book in The Orestaia Series! I’ve also got some fun bonus content for you with Lyssa and the Dragon Oracle. It’s an alternate scene, with lots of dragon shenanigans! So sign up here for my mailing list. Signing up will also let you hear about my next release and other promos and giveaways!
About the Author
ABOUT MISTY MALLOY
Misty Malloy has a self-diagnosed obsession with hair metal bands from the 80s. When she’s not listening to Guns N’ Roses or writing, you can find her walking dogs at the animal shelter, doing Zumba, or having brunch. She loves happy hour with lots of wine and cheese, sexy historical movies, and alpha males. She lives in Tucson, Arizona, with her husband and their dire wolf dog.
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