Aris: A Paranormal Shifter Romance (Stratham Dragons Book 1)

by Sarah J. Stone

  Aris

  (Stratham Dragons Book 1)

  SARAH J. STONE

  Copyright © 2017 by Sarah J. Stone.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America

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  Table of Contents

  Aris

  Dragons of Umora (Bonus):

  1. Cole

  2. Alexander

  3. Peter

  Previews:

  Saved by Alpha Bear

  Saved by a Dragon

  About the Author

  CHAPTER 1

  Aris fell to the hard floor, and his body convulsed rapidly. Each joint fought for control – contorting and changing – but his dragon didn’t even stand a chance. His jaw locked, keeping him from screaming out his agony. Sweat coated his skin in a thin layer, and he slid on the hardwood floor, bruising his body. He had no idea what was going on, but whatever it was, it needed to stop.

  The scent of his fear was syrupy and sweet. It made him prey, and he had no way of stopping it. Weakness was not acceptable to his kind. He learned early on that it was kill or be killed. In his world, there was no room for the weak. He strived to change that with those he loved. The five of them had built a family, but he knew their instincts could take over at any time.

  From a distance, he could hear his brothers’ calls. They were frantic, but he could do nothing to ease their minds. No, someone else had to lead, if only for a little while. Muscles he didn’t even know existed spasmed in a way he’d never thought possible, sending shots of liquid fire through his entire being. Every inch of his body froze, locking in place, and he was unable to move. The tremors stopped, yet bursts of pain soared through his veins. His eyes were forced closed, but he saw something.

  Two hand-carved thrones sat on the dais surrounded by men dressed in sheer festive fabrics. It was a celebration of some sort – no, it wasn’t a good day, never again would the sun rise in her eyes. She looked down, and his honey colored eyes stared back at her – strange. Aris knew this body he possessed wasn’t his own, but when he tried to pull himself out, he found he couldn’t. He was forced to see what was to come. She floated in front of the two who sat upon the thrones. They were her leaders, and it was up to them to decide, though she knew the fate of the child in her arms. She bowed before her king, holding the infant tight. She had no hope they hadn’t figured out she had lain with another.

  “You have broken our most sacred law,” the king bellowed. He stood in all his glory and looked down upon her. She didn’t dare tell the truth. No one would believe her anyway. She would suffer her sins in silence. Because no matter what, in the end, it had been her fault. She had flirted with danger, and now she had to pay.

  “Yes, my king. I do apologize, it was a mistake,” she replied. She hoped that admission and saying what he wanted would save her son.

  He chuckled and gripped her jaw, forcing her eyes to meet his. The crowd gasped. No one was allowed to meet his eyes, especially not someone on trial. “You have lain with a black dragon. We are the golden ones; we are GODS. They are nothing, and you created…” His voice was thick with emotion, and spit from his lips sprayed over her face. She didn’t dare move.

  “This is an abomination, and he must be destroyed!”

  He pointed to the silent baby in her arms. This baby would be killed, right here and now, unless her plan worked.

  “No!” She held tight to her son. She closed her eyes and silently recited the spell she had memorized. Aris, the name she had given him after her father disappeared, and she prayed he went to the one who would save him…

  Aris screamed and shot up from the floor. He blinked and saw four sets of eyes staring at him as the pain receded from his body, but not from his heart. What the hell was he seeing? He knew what he saw, it was him as a baby and his birth mother. He knew it. And his mother was a golden dragon. He’d heard of them through the years. They were royalty. But apparently as a Halfling he was different.

  His heart raced, and his breath came out in pants. The feeling of someone’s hand on his shoulder calmed him. He knew without looking who it was. Blane was the most nurturing. A ‘mother hen,’ they called him.

  “What happened?” he asked. His voice was low and comforting. Blane never raised his voice. When he spoke, everyone listened.

  “I’m not sure. It’s been happening lately.” He ran a shaky hand through his flattened mohawk. “But less painfully. More like dreams, but this…this was different.” After what just happened, he was beginning to understand. Could he just now be coming into all his powers? What did that mean for the others? Did they each have another side of themselves they didn’t know about?

  Aris stood and stretched his neck, trying to relax the muscles in his body. Everything hurt worse than it had been before. For the last couple of years, he’d been really sick. He wasn’t the only one in the group though; Zarin had been noticeably sick, and Max, too. The other two were fine, but if his visions were correct, they wouldn’t be for long.

  “If you talked to us about it, maybe we could help. We’ve all felt strange lately. You don’t always have to be strong, ya know?” Ilias whispered.

  His first instinct was to put Ilias in his place, but maybe he was right. Aris was the one who saved them, and they all looked to him to lead, but if he was dying he needed them to know. Who would watch out for Ilias or Blane if he died? And that was his biggest fear. He held up his hands in surrender, something that felt right to do for the first time. “I get it. You’re right.”

  The others went to the den, but of course Ilias stuck behind. “You’re going to be all right, aren’t you?”

  Ilias was like a child in so many ways. He hadn’t fully healed from his past. Aris didn’t expect him to recover this soon. It had been a year and a half since they’d found Ilias in that cold ditch barely breathing and covered in wounds new and old, and still he didn’t know his story, not fully. He wrapped an arm around the young one’s shoulder and pulled him into his body, letting his warmth soothe him. “Yes, I’ll be fine. No matter what it is, we’ll figure it out. That’s what we do, eh?”

  “You’re getting sicker.” There was no question behind the words – just a simply stated fact.

  Aris nodded and dropped his arm when they got to the stairs. It had been nearly three years since he’d found Blane, and now their numbers had grown. The den was their sacred place. It had a little bit of everything for each of them. It was the one place they could be themselves.

  He did his best to be human, but some things weren’t as easily avoidable, and even though he learned long ago he wasn’t human, he knew he needed to pretend. The humans wouldn’t be able to handle knowing what really exi
sted, and he wasn’t going to be the one to fill them in.

  The others sat in various states of unease, waiting for him to take control. He allowed the pain to swallow him as he slumped back in the old recliner that Max insisted would be perfect. It was ugly as hell, but it was the most comfortable chair.

  “So, what did you see now?” Max asked around a mouthful of pizza.

  The guy never quits eating. Aris wrinkled his nose and glared at him. Max automatically closed his mouth and set his food down.

  Good.

  “It was like all the others except for the pain. But this time I saw myself as a baby. I wasn’t me. I was my birth mother. She saved me with magic somehow, and that’s why I’m still alive.” He was raised with a human family who hated him – almost like the people from his vision. What had he ever done to be hated so badly? He was a baby for fuck’s sake.

  “Aris, you’re a big boy now. You don’t need us anymore,” his mother said. Her voice shook as if she was afraid of him – and he knew she was. It was the way her eyes never quite met his and how she avoided being too close.

  He was 14 today. Strange things happened. He woke up much taller, and he had tripled in weight. He went from being a boy to a man overnight. He didn’t bother watching his parents and younger sister walk away. He didn’t bother wiping the tear away. How was he supposed to live?

  He studied his face in the mirror and realized he was different. He was a man now, and the honey-colored eyes staring back at him no longer cared. He was on his own, and he would survive. He hissed at his reflection and gasped when his eyes shifted. They were pure gold shining brightly back at him. Aris cocked his head to the side and licked his teeth. They were sharper, and by the coppery taste in his mouth, he’d bitten his tongue. It was all too much. In that moment, his black hair faded like magic to a white so pure it reminded him of snow. Oh, and it was soft – oh so soft.

  “What am I?” It was a question that would take years to answer, but he knew then and there he would figure it out. He wasn’t human; that’s all that mattered. He swung his fist so fast he didn’t even feel the glass shatter beneath his knuckles. When he looked at his knuckles, they were already healed.

  Fingers snapped in front of his face, and he blinked. He stared back at his brothers, he saw his family – the tribe who he’d allowed into his life. They wouldn’t treat him that way. A part of him still waited for the day they would leave him, too. Each one of them stared back at him as if they knew exactly what he was thinking and how he felt. He knew they felt it, too: the lingering worry that something would happen and they’d be alone all over again. He wasn’t the only one who’d been hurt. He needed to remember that, and if they were dying, it was up to him to find the cure – no matter what.

  CHAPTER 2

  The front door slammed closed, shaking the house. Sophie’s eyes widened, and her body froze for a second as she cocked her head to the side, listening. She always knew what type of mood he was in based on how he walked around upstairs after he came home from work. Tonight, the heavy sound of his boots meant it had been a bad day. She licked her lips and knelt on the cold floor and slid under her bed to hide.

  She let out a frustrated sigh. She’d been counting on today for months. She had planned down to the very last detail. Everything had to be perfect in order for it to work. If it did, she would finally be free. This always brought a smile to her cracked lips. She could nearly taste the freedom she had craved for so long. It wasn’t the first time that Sophie had plotted her escape, but it was the first time she would succeed. This time, she wouldn’t be stuck in this house of horrors. She was going to free herself. No one would do it for her.

  She folded her body tightly and wrapped her thin arms around her legs. She shivered in the dark, holding her breath while hoping he would keep on moving. Her eyes widened when the footsteps stopped in front of the door. She always knew when he debated. He’d pace in front of the basement door as if he couldn’t decide whether or not he wanted anything from her. Sometimes, the clink of the lock opening would shatter the illusion of her waking up from a nightmare. Other times, she’d hear his heavy body drop into the upstairs recliner.

  She let out a breath as the latter happened this time. Slowly, she crawled out from underneath the metal bed frame. She held the screwdriver in her bony fingers. They were covered in scabs and bruises. She clenched them around the tool and tiptoed to the hanging rug. Behind it was her escape. It was an old, metal door. She’d been working on it for over a year now. Getting out wouldn’t be easy, but if she could just pry that heavy door open she would be free.

  She gasped when she finally scraped a hole out of the wall. She pushed her finger through and smiled. Her black hair was held back from her face, and the tip of her tongue stayed glued to her upper lip in concentration as she worked her fingers to make the hole bigger. The pain was excruciating, but this was the last night. Her mother was coming to see her tonight, and that was all she needed. Her mother always brought her clothes and extra food, and, best of all, she kept her stepfather distracted for hours.

  The woman was so out of it; she never even realized what she was doing. If she did, she would stop. Sophie had waited years for her mother to take them away, but after so long she accepted the fact her mother would never help her – at least not knowingly. So instead, she was able to talk her into bringing her things – all of the things that would aid her in gaining her freedom.

  Julie Weston depended on Ronald, and Ronald depended on her. It was a sick relationship, and it wasn’t until she had turned 15 that the basement had become her permanent home. Before Sophie realized how her life wasn’t like other people’s, she’d had a bit of freedom until she called the police. That was the last time she felt the sun on her face, and it was the first time she’d felt Ronald’s wrath – and far from the last. Never again would she touch the phone. She’d promised herself her mom would see everything and take her away. But she gave up once she realized her mother didn’t love her either. She’d always been lonely, and the basement became her solace.

  For eight years she’d been locked in the basement. Eight years she’d lost, and eight years she’d had to plan her escape. A part of her wanted revenge, and she’d admit that she’d fantasized about all the things she would like to do to him, but in the end if she had to choose freedom or revenge, well, she’d pick her freedom any day.

  Sophie used to try to figure out why he kept her imprisoned, why he hurt her. What did he get out of turning her into a victim, and why her? Was it because she was an easy target because of her mother? She’d asked him once before, but he didn’t answer her, not really. He hurt her really bad that day. She didn’t ask again. Sophie gasped and kept digging. She had to get out. This was the last chance; if she failed she might as well die, and that was her backup plan. Did she want to die? Not even a little bit, no matter what he did to her, she still fought to live, but if she failed to escape again, she would die before she let him take her life. He’d taken too much already. She wouldn’t give him that pleasure. She was certain that if she failed to escape and was caught this time, he would kill her. But first, he’d make her suffer, and he’d enjoy every minute of it. He was a sick man. Ronald wouldn’t be able to control his anger like so many times before, and she couldn’t take that again – never. She wouldn’t let him touch her. She cringed when she thought about all the times he slid his meaty, dry hands over her skin and promised her everything would be okay. Well, it wasn’t okay, and it wasn’t right. She thought about all the scars that covered her body, and all the times she fought until she couldn’t any more.

  She slammed her hand against the crack in the wall and sobbed.

  “No more,” she whispered. She let the tears slide down her cheeks, until she heard the lock.

  Sophie scrambled back to her bed and tossed the screwdriver under it. Then she went into the tiny bathroom and washed the dirt from her hands. The light steps down the stairs relaxed her. She was terrified her mother wo
uldn’t show, but it was the night they always had dinner together. For all the things that her mother forgot or ignored, she remembered their weekly dinner. It didn’t make sense, but she wasn’t going to pick a battle. She wasn’t sure how she managed to keep all her bitter anger locked up inside, but she knew this was her last night.

  “Sophie, baby,” Julie said. Her words were slurred, skin was dirty, and her hair was greasy. Wrinkles had begun to cover her face, and Sophie wondered how her mother managed to live through each day.

  She held her breath and allowed her mother to pull her into a loose hug. Her mother was weaker than her. When she stepped back, Julie was crying.

  “I’m so sorry. I forgot your bag.” She paced and slapped her head in agitation. “Stupid, stupid, I’m so stupid.”

  Sophie’s heart nearly stopped. Her mother forgot the bag. The last thing she needed. She wanted to cry to, but instead she gripped her mother’s arm. “It’s okay, Ma; you can go and get it, right?”

  This perked her mother up. “Oh, of course.” She didn’t wait to hear anything else and climbed back up the stairs, leaving Sophie alone and wondering if she would remember to come back.

  Everything was ruined now. Sophie knew she couldn’t leave yet, unless she could get that door opened, but everything else would fall apart. She had a plan, and her mother had it all in a bag for her: money, hair dye, clothes – everything she would need to get a start on her new life. Without it, Sophie couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t survive without the bag she managed to talk her mother into making up for her. Ronald hadn’t caught on or anything. It made her wonder how stupid they had to be. Hell, she’d been digging a hole in the wall for a better part of the year, and all the times he came down to the basement he never realized. She shuddered trying not to think about the reasons why he might not realize what she was doing.