by Jane Jamison
Dragon Love 1
For the Love of Dragons
Peyton Henley and her best friend Shirley are in Las Vegas to go wild. Peyton’s determined to throw off her “good girl” routine and live dangerously. When a handsome man decides she’s his good luck charm and gives her a gold ringlet bracelet in the shape of a dragon, she decides to roll the dice, keeping the bracelet while enjoying the man.
Dalton Valconai and Roman Sterling are friends, but they’re both after Peyton. When the sacred dragon bracelet involved in an age-old prophecy is stolen from his clan’s protection, Dalton soon learns that Roman knows more than he’s saying—including the fact that he’s given the bracelet to a beautiful tourist.
Dalton and Roman must work together, keeping Peyton safe while also keeping her in the dark. Another dragon clan, bent on taking the bracelet and its power, threaten her. Dalton and Roman are ready to lay down their lives for her, but how can they keep her safe without exposing what they are?
Genre: Ménage a Trois/Quatre, Paranormal, Shape-shifter
Length: 45,136 words
FOR THE LOVE
OF DRAGONS
Dragon Love 1
Jane Jamison
MENAGE EVERLASTING
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Ménage Everlasting
FOR THE LOVE OF DRAGONS
Copyright © 2015 by Jane Jamison
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-597-3
First E-book Publication: September 2015
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2015 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.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
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DEDICATION
Dear Reader,
This is my first step into the world of dragons. Although I’ve written about other shifters, I’ve always had a fascination with dragons. In fact, my office contains several dragon toys and figurines as well as dragon paintings.
I hope you enjoy reading the Dragon Love series. Look for more books to follow.
Happy reading,
Jane Jamison
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Epilogue
About the Author
FOR THE LOVE
OF DRAGONS
Dragon Love 1
JANE JAMISON
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
The overwhelming need to shift consumed Dalton Valconai. He’d already gone far too long since the last time he’d spread his wings. If he didn’t get in a solid night of flying, he’d go not-so-quietly bat shit. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing shittier or crazier than a damn bat.
Night had finally fallen over the mountains surrounding Las Vegas, Nevada. He’d waited most of the day inside one of the many caves his clan had claimed for centuries. Not that he couldn’t fly in the daytime, but using the cloaking skill to keep his body invisible from the humans scurrying below him on the Strip took more effort during the day. More effort meant less soaring time. Waiting was difficult but worth it.
Like most dragons, he’d driven into the mountains using the private roads that were guarded by members of his clan. Once he was close enough, he’d left his driver and car behind and had walked to the caves. Taking to the sky in a limited space like that found in town was possible, but required shifting first before giving an extra hard thrust and lifting off the ground. Plus, it posed a greater risk of being seen. Instead, he preferred the large flat areas in front of the caves, giving him enough room to run and shift at the same time.
His eyes penetrated the darkness of the cave, picking up friends as well as a few others who he’d never consider his allies. His fellow clan members, most in their dragon bodies, hid in the shadows, enjoying the solitude and quiet.
He closed his eyes and let the change wash over him, allowing his dragon to take control of his human body. Usually, the shift came quickly, going from a man to a dragon in only a minute. Tonight, he controlled the transformation, slowing it down and bringing more pain as he began moving toward the edge of the cliff. The pain was a two-sided sword, at once pleasurable and awful. Yet the pain was a reminder of what he was, his heritage, and his future.
Dalton Valconai was an Emeralian dragon, one of the four remaining ruling dragon clans.
He opened his eyes and unfurled his massive wings. Lifting his long snout in the air, he pulled in a long, slow breath of night air. Even with the pollution caused by mankind and their machines, he welcomed the aroma.
“Dalton?” The whisper came from Marla, one of the many females who often sought his attention.
He paused, his dragon angry at the interruption, and turned to face her.
She was beautifu
l with long auburn hair and a body any Vegas showgirl would love to show off. Although she pulled at him, eliciting primal urges, he had to resist her. He wouldn’t trifle with a dragoness. Human females were for sexual fun. Dragonesses were to be respected as potential mates.
Still, he wouldn’t let her keep him from his flight. Taking a mate was not on his mind. Not when committing himself to a permanent mate meant his life clock would start ticking down the days. Once a dragon gave his heart, he began to age both as a human and as a dragon. Dalton was already fifteen hundred years old and had every intention of adding another thousand years to his lifetime. His human appearance had stopped showing the signs of age at thirty-six. From that point on, unless he mated, he would retain his youth and power. What was having a woman compared to living an eternity?
“Dalton?” she whispered again. “Come. Be with me.”
Why were dragonesses so intent on mating? They’d have offspring and then start the aging process, too. And yet, it was in their nature to find a suitable mate.
“Dalton.” Her tone was more insistent now.
Ignoring her silky voice, he raced toward the edge again, lifted his wings and took to the air. If she followed him, he’d ignore her again. If she still wouldn’t let him go, he’d turn on her, brandishing his vicious talons, his powerful horned tail, and his flame. It would be risky, showing a flash of fire in the sky, but what else could he do if she didn’t take the hint?
His wings beat against the night air, taking him higher, faster. Fortunately, Marla didn’t follow him.
Sin City spread out below him, the bright lights of the Strip casting a yellow glow into the sky. If one of the thousands of tourists glanced up, they’d see nothing. Still, if for some strange reason, one of them stared hard and long enough, they might see a ripple in the night sky and wonder what would’ve caused it.
He flapped his wings, picking up the flow of air and letting it slide under them. If he could’ve stayed in his dragon body every day, all day, he would have. But life as a human demanded his attention more and more, leaving little time to revel in flight. At least as the owner of the most exclusive jewelry boutiques around the world, he could enjoy his other passion of “wearable art.” Although he had over a hundred stores, including stores in his favorite cities of Paris, London, and Rome, he spent most of his time in Las Vegas.
He would’ve loved to live in his chateau in the heart of Paris, but the desert was the primary home to the four main dragon clans. As one of the most powerful dragons of his kind, he had an obligation to stay in Vegas and help oversee the clan’s organization.
Other types of dragons existed, but they weren’t part of the four ruling clans. Of course, as an Emeralian dragon with his green scales and green eyes, he felt his clan was superior to the others. They were more intelligent and steadfast, the dragons the other clans looked to for leadership.
Roman Sterling wouldn’t agree, but why should he? Roman was a Talasium dragon and bore the blue scales and silver eyes of his kind. The Talasium dragons lived life to the fullest, loving to joke and party, although many of them were successful in business because of their ability to charm others. Horns surrounded Roman’s head as though he’d stuck his face through a spiked shield. Unlike those of the clever and sly red Verian dragons, Roman’s horns grew smaller as they continued down his spine to the arrow-shaped tip at the end of his tail.
And then there were the black Dradian dragons. Dalton blew smoke out of his nose. No love was lost between the other three clans and the Dradians. While the other clans were trustworthy—to an extent—the Dradians were evil, manipulative, and power-hungry. They would do anything to gain wealth and control.
Dalton pulled his wings closer, sending him into a dive toward the mountains directly to the east of the Emeralian caves he’d left behind. Halfway there, he turned his head to see another dragon, his wings spread out as he coasted toward Dalton.
Roman.
As much as he didn’t want to feel it, joy spread through him, churning his stomach with anticipation. He fought to keep from smiling, fought to keep from swishing his tail in a subtle dare. Sparring with Roman was fun, even if the younger dragon was sometimes irritating. He picked up speed, heading for a cave at the end of the closest mountain range.
“Dalton.”
He heard Roman speak his name telepathically. Human-like speech was rendered useless while in their alternate forms. As he’d done with the female, he ignored Roman. Ignoring him was the best way to assure that Roman would stay on his tail.
But Roman had a different idea.
Just as Dalton was about to take another glimpse at him, Roman did a quick maneuver, diving under Dalton then pushing upward. He slammed into Dalton’s belly before Dalton could react.
Roman was younger in human years at thirty-four but was a thousand years younger as a dragon. As such, he had more speed and maneuverability than Dalton.
Startled, Dalton jerked his wings against his long body, causing a quick drop in altitude. Roman spun around, turning over and over as he followed Dalton’s descent.
“Fuck you,” Dalton said as he lifted his head, corrected his direction, and darted toward the stars.
“You wish.” Roman leveled out, pumping his wings until he was alongside Dalton. “Land.”
Dalton sneered. He disliked it when Roman teased him with sexual innuendo. Dalton was steadfastly heterosexual, and he knew Roman was the same. Roman simply enjoyed ribbing Dalton.
“I’d planned on doing that,” Dalton hurried to clarify. “Landing, that is. Unless you intend to knock me out of the sky first.” He growled, letting the tip of his fire leak out the sides of his jaws. Ribbons of smoke trailed along his neck.
“Don’t be such a pussy. I barely bumped you.” Roman did another roll in the air. “Land, damn it. Now.”
Dalton didn’t like being ordered around. Roman was the only one, aside from his clan’s leaders, who could get away with it. If Dalton didn’t like Roman so damn much, his command to land would’ve been met with a direct attack. Most dragons, especially ones of his station, were quick to anger.
With Roman by his side, he flew to the mountains. After checking to see if there was anyone else around, Dalton spread his wings and pulled out his taloned claws. He landed on the cliff shelf that led into a small cave. Roman dropped to his side and, like Dalton, folded his wings.
They stood looking at each other for a few moments. Tilting their heads back and forth, they blinked and flexed their necks, posturing, each trying to psych out the other.
Finally, as he usually did, Roman shifted first, changing into his human body. With a smug dragon grin, Dalton jerked his tail back and forth, considering the idea of giving Roman a good beat-down for a little payback.
“Are you planning on staying a dragon all night?” Roman’s silver gaze glittered against his tanned face and the thick black hair curling around his jawline. His body was lean, an athlete’s build, while his face was round, the boyishness of it counteracted by his taunting expression.
Dalton was playing with fire. Their clans wouldn’t like them getting together away from the agreed-upon meeting places. Those locations were deemed common ground, neutral territories where one clan did not have dominance over another.
“Change.”
There Roman was again, trying to demand Dalton follow his orders. Who did the cocky little bastard think he was? And yet, Dalton couldn’t help but admire him. Roman had guts and brains, a combination that served him well.
Dalton glanced around, making sure no other dragon from any of the clans saw them. As Emeralian and Talasium dragons, the two were not supposed to be friends. Being an ally was one thing, but to want anything more personal couldn’t happen.
“Dalton. Come on. Why’d you land if you aren’t going to change?”
Dalton growled, but the sound lacked any real conviction. Since the night they’d met and become fast friends, he’d worried about the others finding out. If he stayed as
a dragon, he could take flight quickly should another dragon see them.
Suddenly, Roman stalked to the other side of the small cliff. “If you’re not going to shift, then get the hell out of here.” His eyes sparkled with the dare. “Shift or I’ll leave.”
“Don’t leave.” Dalton spoke the words telepathically, even knowing Roman could no longer hear them. He shook his head and growled.
Damn it. Didn’t he realize how careful they needed to be? And yet, he was being just as foolish by being near Roman.
At least Roman had an excuse. As a young dragon, he could get away with being impulsive. The rulers of both their clans would probably make allowances for him because of his age.
As a respected member of the Emeralian clan, Dalton was held to higher standards. Standards he often wished he could toss aside for a few days, even a few hours. He dreamed of moving away and shirking his responsibilities. But to do so would mean giving up his life, his land holdings, and everything else he’d worked so hard to obtain.
They’d met three months earlier when he’d gone to one of the trendy nightclubs with a new client and had seen Roman on the other side of the club. He’d recognized the young man as a Talasium dragon and had immediately lifted the corner of his mouth in a sneer. The club was under Emeralian control and didn’t allow dragons from the other clans inside. Yet how Roman had gained entry didn’t matter.
When Roman had grinned back with the dare so evident in his expression, Dalton had laughed. Anyone with the gall to get past his bouncers and then act as if he belonged in the club had to be respected. Roman had balls, if not a lot of sense.