by Amelia Jade
Dragon Marked
Quicksilver Dragons Book 1
By Amelia Jade
Dragon Marked
Copyright © 2018 by Amelia Jade
First Electronic Publication: September 2018
Amelia Jade
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, 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.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
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 construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.
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Contents
Author’s Note
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
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Want More of These Characters?
The Outsiders
Cadia
Genesis Valley
About the Author
Author’s Note
Hold on!
You should know that while this series can be read independently, it is part of a large world that was started with the Crimson Dragons series. You can continue through, as each book contains a full story arc with happy endings for the characters, but to get the full experience of the Outsiders Universe, you should really start at the beginning with Dragon Temptation (Crimson Dragons #1) available below.
I hope you enjoy!
- Amelia
Crimson Dragons
Crimson Dragons: The Box Set (Link)
Dragon Temptation
Dragon Seduction
Dragon Devotion
Onyx Dragons
Dragon Fixation
Dragon Obsession
Dragon Addiction
Ice Dragons
Dragon Eruption
Dragon Redemption
Dragon Rebellion
Emerald Dragons
Dragon Passion
Dragon Desire
Dragon Craving
Cobalt Dragons
Dragon Blood
Dragon Heart
Dragon Soul
Quicksilver Dragons
Dragon Marked
Dragon Bound
Dragon Betrothed
Dragon Marked
Chapter One
Megyn
Everyone was there for her.
She looked around the room at the smiling, happy faces. Her mother. Soon-to-be mother-in-law. Her sister Janice. Two aunts, three cousins, and half a dozen close friends, including her maid of honor Daria, whom she’d known since they were both in diapers.
Streamers decorated the walls of the rustic lodge common room, and a giant sign hung over the entryway that read “Wekkle-Farmier.” She’d never actually announced her intentions to hyphenate, but her mother had gone ahead and had the banner printed up anyway. That was Lillian Wekkle for you. Master wedding planner and huge know-it-all.
It’s easy to think you know what you’re doing after eight marriages, though. It’s a lot harder when you’re like me and this is your first.
So many little decisions she’d never expected. Like whether or not to take her fiancé’s last name. In the whirlwind rush of engagement and wedding planning, that was something that had very rarely crossed her mind. Ian had just assumed she would, and they’d never discussed it besides one comment he’d made about “It’ll be nice when you’re finally a Farmier.”
Megyn looked over at her mother, who had just finished listening to a story from Janice and was desperately looking for a way out. Her sister was well known for rambling on about the tiniest, incredibly boring things.
“Mom, can I speak to you?” she asked, forcing a smile on her face.
Lillian looked at her daughter and must have seen something despite Megyn’s attempts to keep a happy face, and nodded. “Of course, darling. Some fresh air?”
“Yes, please,” she said, grateful for the escape.
It felt rude, as if she weren’t properly appreciative for all the effort everyone was putting into the wedding in two days, but just then she needed the space.
“You’ve got cold feet,” her mom said as soon as the doors closed, diagnosing her like she was a doctor. “Happens to everyone as the wedding gets close. Why, I remember when I was about to get married to Jimmy and I threw up for two days straight beforehand.” She frowned. “Or was that Al? Hmm.”
“Mom.” Megyn had no desire to listen to her mother’s multitude of marriage stories. “We’re not talking about you.”
“Of course we’re not, sweetie. We’re talking about you and your cold feet. I’m just telling you how things went with me, so you know that you’ll get over it and everything will be okay.”
She carefully refrained from telling her mother that she only wanted to get married once, and that the reassurance her mother thought she was giving was really making things worse, not better.
“Ian is such a nice man. He really is. And his family… oh, his family! They’re all so wonderful. Who would have thought that a daughter of mine would marry into the Farmiers?”
Megyn rolled her eyes. “Mom you set us up and played cupid the entire time. This marriage is basically your creation.”
She watched her mother pretend to wave off it off as if it were a compliment. Megyn wasn’t so sure she meant it that way, but to Lillian it was of the highest order of compliments. Her mom was obsessed with marriage, and had been pushing her to get married for years now.
“I’ll take some credit, sure. Like, maybe twenty, or thirty percent maximum. Oh darling, this is going to be such a wonderful wedding.”
Megyn bit her lip. “What if…what if I don’t want to get married to him?”
Lillian gasped. “Don’t ever say such a thing, sweetie! Ian Farmier is the best thing to happen to you. Much better than anyone else. Why, who else would you marry? That brute you call a best friend?”
She hissed. “That brute has a name, mother, and it’s Hel. You should use it.”
“Filthy name, really. I don’t know how the two of you are friends. I can’t repeat that name, not in such a holy place.”
“Mom, we’re standing outside of a mountain lodge that is most often used for groups of old men to come and get wasted at while they hunt.”
Her mom—newly single again of cour
se—grinned. “Which is why it was the best spot.”
“You know it’s despicable that you arranged for my wedding to be held somewhere that vastly increases your chances of finding a new man, right?”
Lillian just shook her head. “It’s not about me, dear. It’s about you. This is you, this is what you wanted. Mountains, open air, out of the city.”
Her mother wasn’t wrong. Megyn loved it up here. Still, she would have chosen a few other places to get married in first if she’d had any say.
“Thanks for talking, Mom.” She pulled open the door.
Lillian gave her an odd look, but a happy cry from inside drew her attention and she was gone, right back into the midst of it all, gossiping happily with the other ladies about some man or another that they’d seen at the lodge.
The door closed and the sound was cut off. Megyn sighed and walked farther out into the courtyard in front of the lodge. Trees and hardy little flowers lined the cobblestone walkway that led to the circular driveway. In the center a majestic statue of a huge buck rose up, every detail intricately carved. A bank of lights shone onto the statue, making it ripple as water flowed slowly down the antlers and rest of the body to fall into the bowl-shaped pond below, creating a peaceful babble that was easy to get lost in.
This late at night, high up in the tiny mountain village of Cherne, there was no other noise. She could hear everything. The water from the fountain. The hoot of an owl in the distance.
“Hello, Megyn.”
She yelped and spun around. “Hel! What are you doing here?!”
Apparently she couldn’t hear everything, because somehow the hulking giant she considered one of her best friends had managed to sneak up on her without so much as a sound. Again. He’d been doing that since they were kids, and she detested it. Especially because no matter how hard she tried, she could never do the same thing to him. Other people didn’t stand a chance with her, but Hel? He always knew she was coming. It was infuriating.
Her heart quickly calmed. He’d always had that effect on her. Keeping her calm and happy. It’s why they were friends, sort of. Lately, ever since she’d started seeing Ian, things had gotten different with Hel. There was some sort of unspoken tension between them. Megyn knew he had something he was wanting to say, but he’d never said it. He was always wishing her the best with Ian, but never seemed to mean it.
“It’s your wedding in two days.”
“Yes. I know. We talked about this though, about maybe it would be for the best if you weren’t there.”
Ian and Hel didn’t get along. At all. They’d come to blows once before, and several times before that she’d only stopped them in the nick of time. Neither would explain what the issue was, but she suspected that what Hel had to tell her wasn’t something Ian wanted to let happen.
Which was partially why she so desperately wished Hel would say it. He was horrible at expressing his emotions, and if he was going to say what she thought he was, then it was going to take a monumental effort on his part. She took a breath in, thinking. Could that be why he’d sought her out just now? Was he finally ready to tell her?
She felt guilty for being so hopeful. Although she refused to acknowledge with herself what he might be wanting to say, Megyn couldn’t deny that maybe, just maybe, there was a part of her that wanted to hear him say it.
“I know what we talked about. I know why.” He fell silent, but she could see his eyes focus on her in the dim light. They’d always been like that, so bright they almost glowed a silver-mercury. He said it was a genetic mutation, but either way it was always a beautiful sight.
“Why are you here then?” She crossed her arms, noting the way his eyes darted quickly down to the extra cleavage that created before shooting back up, only a momentary bit of weakness.
Hel stood up straight, his wide shoulders and massive chest blotting out the light behind him. She saw his biceps swell and then return to their normal enlarged state. Hel was always like that, pure muscle despite her never seeing him work out. He was a freak of nature with his size and his strength, but he’d never done anything but use it to protect her.
“Megyn.” He paused, and to her surprise she saw his hands clench into fists and then relax. Whatever he was about to say, it was important to him.
“Yes, Hel?”
“Oh screw it. Listen, you can’t marry this guy.”
Her jaw dropped, any words she might have spoken escaping without so much as a peep. What had he just said? “What did you just say?” she managed to get out, still gaping at him.
Hel growled, a deep sound that filled the night around them. If there were any animals nearby making sound before, they fell silent now. “Don’t make me repeat myself again, okay? You can’t marry this guy, Megyn.”
Steeling herself, she met his heavy gaze and locked on. “Why. Not.”
It was half-question, half-challenge. If he was going to say something so profound, then he’d damn well better be ready to say what else needed to be said. Otherwise, she was going to be pissed. There was nothing worse than doing something half-assed.
His arms, now folded over his own broad chest like hers, swelled so large she swore they began to creak.
You can do this, Hel. I know you can. Just say it. Say the words.
His mouth worked, and hope sparked inside of her. A hope she’d never let flicker into flame, but had been unable to extinguish completely nonetheless. A spark, like flint before it lit the fire, it always flared up when things between her and Hel grew tense. Could this be the time he actually fanned the flames, or whatever it was that had gone unspoken between them for so long?
Abruptly he deflated, the huge bear of a man sagging like someone had popped a pin in his side and let all the air out. “You just can’t,” he said, half-snarling.
She wasn’t bothered by that. It wasn’t her he was mad at, it was himself. His eyes met hers and she saw in them something akin to pleading. Hel would never do anything quite like that; he was too strong, too proud. It was one of his defining characteristics, and also one of his major flaws.
“That’s all you’ve got? ‘I can’t’?” she asked, disappointed and angry. Had he come all the way up here just to stop now? What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he vocalize his thoughts, his emotions!
Men. They all suck with that sort of thing. Even Ian wasn’t too great about it. Except anger, they were all great with expressing anger. It was like the universal union of men had all gotten together one day and voted on a single emotion that was okay for them to express to others, and had decided on anger as being that emotion, simply because it was the easiest. What a bunch of wimps.
“He’s not good for you,” Hel ground out.
That was a change, but it wasn’t enough. Megyn needed to hear him say the actual words, without her giving him a yes or no question. He needed to articulate, and if he couldn’t do that, well…
“You need to give me more than that, Hel, or I’m going to marry him. He proposed to me.” Her eyes and expression said, “And you didn’t.”
Hel, to her surprise, looked away. That last barb had hurt. Perhaps too much. She shook her head and moved to go around him and back into the lodge. Reaching out, she brushed her hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Hel.”
The instant her fingers hit his skin, every hair on her body stood on its end. Even the ones on her head lifted slightly as electricity shot between them. His head snapped around, eyes blazing with a brightness she’d never seen before as he stared at her hand, and then her face.
But he still didn’t say anything.
Eventually the feeling faded, and she withdrew her hand, at a loss for words over what had just happened.
“It was good to see you, Hel,” she whispered. “But you shouldn’t come to the wedding.”
It wasn’t easy to say that to someone she’d been close friends with for nearly a decade, but if he felt so strongly against it, she didn’t want him to ha
ve to watch her get married. She was trying to give him a way out.
Hel snarled loudly, pulled away, and stormed off into the night. Instead of heading back inside Megyn watched him go, and tried to figure out why her chest hurt so much.
Chapter Two
Hel
“What is wrong with you?!” he snapped, speaking to himself as the lodge faded into the distance behind him. “You had her there, all you had to do was tell her the truth. She wanted you to say it.”
But he couldn’t. Hel didn’t know how. He could play it a thousand times in his head, but when the opportunity to speak came, he always froze up. There was some sort of block between his brain and his mouth, preventing him from telling her how he felt. That he cared for her.
That he loved her.
“You’re pathetic.” His shoulders slumped as he accepted the truth of that statement.
All the strength in the world. Hel could bench press cars as a warmup, jump two-story buildings, and in his dragon form he could level the buildings with ease. There were few creatures on earth that could stand up to him, and all of them were fellow dragons. Yet despite all that power, he faltered in front of a pretty girl.
Only her though. There was only one pretty girl for Hel, and her name was Megyn Wekkle. Certainly not Megyn Wekkle-Farmier. Ew. What a horrible-sounding name. There was no way he was going to let her become part of the Farmier clan. That couldn’t happen. This had been his best shot though, and he’d screwed it up. How was he supposed to do things now?
Clearly I’m not thinking straight. I need to clear my mind.
Without thinking he veered to the left. Cherne was a small town, but it was close to the Enclave, the secret homeland of dragons, deep underneath several of the nearby mountains. Hel had visited the town numerous times before, and he knew exactly where to go to clear his mind.
His foot blew in the old-fashioned wooden door without warning, ripping it clear from its hinges and blasting it across the room.
“Hello, boys!” he shouted cheerily, standing in the doorway. “Drink any of your mothers’ piss recently, you scrotum-sucking anvil-heads? Why, I heard that you act just like your cousins, licking each other’s anuses to clear out the little bits of turd that you leave behind! Is this true? Because I knew you were pathetic but—”