by Riley Storm
“Serves you right,” Rann said.
“Don’t make me flick your forehead,” Pietro threatened.
“Are you two done yet?” Claire asked, interrupting as she came up to them, helping support her father, who was massaging his legs, not having used them in several hours, the blood flow reduced by the bonds. “I’d like to get out of here.”
Pietro nodded. “Yeah, come on. Let’s go. I know a safe place.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Claire
“You’re sure you’re okay, honey?” her mother asked, smothering her in yet another hug.
Claire weathered the storm with stoic calm.
“You know that I wasn’t the one who got kidnapped, right?” she drawled. “I came to rescue you. Why is it that I don’t get to ask you the same?”
“We’re old,” her father said. “We’ve lived. You’re our child. You’ll understand if you decide to have children of your own. It’s different.”
Claire blushed and gave her dad another hug.
They were in the main foyer of her parent’s house. Pietro had brought them there after they left the old broadcasting building ruins. Maybe it was only because of everything that had happened, but Claire had been welcomed back with open arms, her parents smothering her with the love she’d desperately been in need of since Pete had released the tape of her crime to the world.
The only question that remained now was whether or not it was a permanent welcome. Once the adrenaline of everything that had just happened subsided, would they be ready to have their ‘criminal’ daughter around? Claire was dreading that moment because she feared she knew what the answer would be.
“You guys are both okay though? No physical damage that you’re hiding?” she asked. “Now’s the time to go to the hospital if so. I don’t want either of you acting like you’re too tough to go.”
“Says the girl with the black eye,” her father chided.
“Yeah,” she said, touching the puffy, tender skin of her right eye. It was swelling, but not too bad. She’d have a mark for some time, but she didn’t think it would be that bad.
“You all did well,” Pietro rumbled from closer to the door where he stood apart from the group.
The other dragon, the one named Rann, was outside, patrolling. He’d insisted, feeling sheepish for how he’d been so easily surprised and overcome by the vampire.
“But despite that, I must extend my deepest apologies to all three of you. I’m sure Rann would too, if he hasn’t been knocked out again.”
There were chuckles, despite the seriousness of the mood. Everyone knew that it was a close thing, that they had been very lucky to get out of there in one piece.
“This is all my fault,” Pietro said quietly. “It’s because of me that the vampires were even after Claire in the first place. None of you would have been in any danger if it weren’t for me, and I cannot say I’m sorry enough. I will do my best to make it up to each of you, but I’m not sure I ever could.”
There was a long silence, and Claire began to worry that her parents were going to hold a grudge against Pietro too. That they would never be able to look at him the same.
Her father was the first to speak.
“A lot has happened in the past few weeks,” he said. “From us discovering that dragons are real, to the knowledge that there are more than just your kind out there, Pietro. That there are many other types of nonhuman creatures. Most of whom want nothing more than to hurt us, according to what you said on the way here.”
“That is correct,” Pietro said.
“Maybe you led them to Claire,” her father said with a shrug. “Maybe not. I choose, however, to believe that you did not do so in any intentional or negligent way. That’s not the impression I get of you as a person.”
Claire reached out to squeeze her dad’s upper arm. All of it was true, though they hadn’t explained the full story to her parents just yet. But her dad was a smart man and had become a pretty good judge of character over the years as a lawyer.
“What I know you did do, is you came for us. You came to rescue us, and you put your life on the line to do so. Nor, according to Claire here, did you hesitate. Neither did your friend, Bran.”
“Rann,” Pietro corrected quietly, with a smirk. “But I’m glad you figured out Bran-Flakes’ nickname. He really loves it.”
Claire tilted her head. “Ro…” she chided.
Pietro managed to somehow look completely innocent and ignorant. “Yes?”
“My point,” her father said, interrupting the byplay. “Is that despite any mistake, intentional or not, that you may have made, you sought to correct it. You wanted to do the right thing. We’re all thankful and appreciative of that. There is nothing for you to apologize for, Pietro. Nothing at all.”
The big dragon shifter bowed his head low in relief. “Thank you.”
“And you,” her dad said, turning to face Claire, looking his daughter straight in the eyes.
“Yes, Dad?”
“To you, I must say I am sorry.”
“We,” her mother added, speaking up now. “We had already been talking this over before tonight and were going to call you to tell you.”
“To tell me what?”
“That we are sorry. Sorry for the way we treated you, for not giving you our support. We were shocked and didn’t understand how you could do something like that. We thought it was our fault, and we let ourselves get wrapped up in our own guilt instead of realizing that you would need us more than ever right now.”
Claire sniffled, fighting valiantly to hold back tears, and knowing the entire time that she was losing.
“We hope you can forgive us,” her mom added. “And you’re welcome to stay here whenever you want, for as long as you want. We’ll do whatever we can to help you out. You’re our only daughter, Claire. We love you.”
“I’m your only child, period,” she teased, trying to lighten the mood. “But thank you, both of you. That means a lot.”
Her parents came forward and wrapped her up in a hug. The tears were at the corners of her eyes, though so far, she’d refused to let them fall.
“Hey,” her mother said, but not to Claire. “Unless I’m blind, deaf, and dumb, you and her are a thing. So get over here and join.”
Claire glanced up at her mom, but she only received a wink in reply.
“Who are a thing?” her father rumbled in surprise.
“Hush,” Wendy Owens said. “Don’t ruin the moment, Chuck darling.”
Pietro joined the hug, his massive arms reaching much of the way around everyone as he pressed in against Claire’s side.
Then, the tears did begin to fall.
Behind them the front door opened.
“Ouch,” Rann said deadpan. “Where was my invite?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Claire
“Only fifty more community service hours,” she said, repeating the judge’s punishment for her missed day as they exited city hall and within it the courthouse. “That’s not too bad.”
“It should have been none,” Pietro grumbled from next to her as they emerged into the gloriously hot summer day.
She pulled her sunglasses down over her eyes to shield them from the sun, the slight breeze picking up the loose strands of her hair and waving them around. “It’s all good, Ro. I’m more glad that it’s settled. I don’t have to worry about it hovering over my head, you know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” he said. “But that’s fifty more hours that you’re away from me.”
He was mostly teasing, she knew, but in the days since everything had come to a head, Claire hadn’t been anywhere out of the house without him at her side. With the events still so fresh, she didn’t care, but as time went on, she knew they were going to have to establish boundaries.
But Pietro would be okay with that. He wasn’t inflexible. He could adapt. And besides, his kind were down in Five Peaks in force now, looking for the remaining vampires. In t
ruth, Claire felt safer than she had in some time.
“Good riddance to Pete as well,” she said, addressing another reason she felt safe. “So nice to see him shipped off to Kennewick Falls. Now, if they could just find the preacher and do the same, life would be perfect!”
The preacher for the Church of the Anti-Wyrm had gone to ground. Nobody had seen or heard from him since the incident at the broadcasting station. Pete, meanwhile, had turned up a day later on the front steps of the Sheriff’s office, trussed up like a wild hog. Claire would treasure the memory of that image in her head for a long time. The bastard deserved nothing less.
Pietro’s growl rumbled out into the air around them. More than one passerby turned to look, but the pair walked on without pausing. At some point, Claire’s hand found his, and she smiled happily as their fingers intertwined with practiced ease.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“Everything. Being you. Being who, and what, I needed, and giving me the space to realize it all on my own.”
Pietro leaned over and kissed the top of her head, spurring little butterflies in her stomach. Claire was certain she was flying, they were so many.
“I feared that you might take ages to realize it,” he teased. “Given how thick-headed you can be sometimes.”
Claire lowered her shoulder and leaned into him as hard as she could. On her end, there was nothing playful at all. Pietro was too big, too strong, for her to overpower if she didn’t give it her all. She was learning though, and she’d timed it just right. His foot was in the air when she hit him, and he stumbled slightly to the side.
“Ha—Ack!”
Her cry of triumph became an awkward quack as he moved. Claire had forgotten one important detail.
Pietro had been holding her hand. Where he went, she went.
With his superior reflexes, Pietro of course recovered first—just in time to scoop her up into his arms as she lost her balance.
“Boy,” he said. “It sure is a good thing I was here to catch you when you fell.”
Claire, perfectly content in his arms and uncaring that it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday, narrowed her eyes and glared up at him.
“You know that was a super cheesy line, right?” she asked, pushing her lips out into a fake pout.
“Yeah, but did it work?”
She sighed, unable to keep the smile from her face for much longer. “I mean, maybe. I’ll never tell.”
“We’ll see about that,” he growled. “Now, are you ready to get back to your community service?”
“If I have to,” she said glumly. “I would really prefer to spend the day off with you though. It’s so gorgeous out.”
“You’re right,” Pietro said quietly. “It is. So we should spend as much of it together as we can, outside.”
“I’d love to. But I have to head out of town. Balance the Scales is doing a major drive today to get out extra kits. I need to help them.”
“I know,” Pietro said with a smile. “But you know, there’s a way we can do both.”
She frowned at him. “There is?”
“Of course. Come on, I’ll show you.”
Claire yelped in surprise as Pietro started eagerly pulling her along, heading out back of city hall, to the loading area.
“Listen, Ro,” she said as he took off his shirt. “I’m not really about the public stuff… I love you, but you’re gonna have to wait until later.”
Pietro snorted. “And you say I’m the one with the filthy mind.”
“Well, you are getting naked. At city hall. In full view of the security cameras,” she added, pointing a finger up at the side of the building.
“It’s for a good purpose,” he muttered. “Now, hold my clothes, will you?”
Claire didn’t have time to agree or disagree before he dumped all his clothes into her hands.
She had even less time to react as he jogged out between the cars and lowered himself on one knee. At least he was obscuring his nudity. That was hers after all, not the entire towns.
“Oh shit!” she yelped as Pietro changed into his dragon.
One moment, he was kneeling, the next a massive dragon longer than a school bus filled the empty space between the garbage bins near where she stood and the cars parked along the far side.
Its gigantic, fiery wings fluttered slightly and then settled down. The one on the far side tucked in against his flank, while the near side extended out toward her.
“Pietro,” she said quietly. “What’s going on?”
The long dragon head tilted slightly so one yellow eye could focus directly on her. “Giving you a first class ticket to your gig today. Are you coming?”
Claire licked her lips. “Ummm. Are you serious?”
“Yes,” he said. “Just walk up my wing, sit at the base of my neck. We’ll go flying. Enjoy the sun and the air on the way. Spend some time together. It’s past time we did this.”
Part of her was fascinated by the idea of riding dragonback. Another part was just as equally terrified.
“You’re sure this is safe?” she asked nervously, reaching out to test the wing, finding the darker red membrane to be far sturdier than expected.
“Of course. I’ll be going slow and won’t be doing anything wild. You’ll be fine as long as you stay seated.”
“Right,” she said, tentatively taking a step out onto the wing. “It’s a good thing I love you, you know. To trust you like this.”
“I love you too,” Pietro said, his flanks vibrating as he chuckled. “But I do have one question for you. One request, I guess.”
“What’s that?” she asked, a third of the way up the wing now.
“Can you bring my boxers too? I’m gonna need them.”
Katie turned back to see that in her flustered state she’d dropped his underwear.
“Those stinky things?” she complained.
“They are not stinky,” Pietro growled. “I shower every day, thank you very much.”
Claire laughed, some of her tenseness fleeing as she relaxed a bit more. “Lean a little bit closer,” she muttered, but she went back down the wing to get them. “I’m just doing this because I don’t want anyone else getting an extra peek at you. You know that, right? Not because you asked me to. You’re mine, not theirs.”
Pietro smiled. “I wouldn’t want it any other way, my love. After all, you’re mine.”
She shivered at the possessive tone. It felt right. Very right. She liked being claimed by Pietro.
“I guess giving you a second chance after the bar was a good idea after all,” she said as she finally settled down behind his neck, packing his clothes into a pile and stuffing them under her shirt. It wasn’t the best look, but it would do.
“It wasn’t that bad!” Pietro protested.
“You came up to me, told me with utter politeness and formality that I was pretty and asked if you could ‘have this dance’ like it was some sort of formal occasion and not a jukebox in a bar. Then, you turned to point at the dance floor and, as you did, you dumped half your drink on me. Yes, actually, it was that bad,” she said.
“Oh, whatever. You wanted me,” Pietro said, his voice bubbling with laughter.
Claire’s shocked response was lost in a shriek as he spread his wings and launched them into the sky.
***
***
Thank you for reading Dragon’s Second Chance Romance. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review so that others might enjoy the adventure as well.
Next Book: Dragon’s Fake Wedding Date (Dragon’s of Mount Atrox #3)
Newsletter Signup: Click Here (Get a free bonus scene for each book)
ARC Team Signup: [email protected]
Other Books by Riley Storm
Thanks for checking out my other books!
Below you can find all my novels, divided up by series. The brackets indicate which of my worlds the series is written in. So dig in!
Dragons of Mount Atrox (Five Peaks #4)
Dragon’s True Mate
Dragons’ Second Chance Romance
Dragons of Mount Valen (Five Peaks #3)
Her Dragon Guardian
Her Dragon Lord
Her Dragon Soulmate
Her Dragon Outcast
Dragons of Mount Teres (Five Peaks #2)
In a Dragon’s Mind
In a Dragon’s Heart
In a Dragon’s Dream
In a Dragon’s Soul
Dragons of Mount Aterna (Five Peaks #1)
A Mate to Treasure
A Mate to Believe In
A Mate to Protect
A Mate to Embrace
Storm Dragons (Winterspell Academy)
Stolen by the Dragon
Trapped by the Dragon
Dragon’s Chosen Mate
High House Ursa (Plymouth Falls #1)
Get the Five Book Bundle (Click Here)
Includes:
Bearing Secrets
Furever Loyal
Mated to the Enemy
Shifting Alliances
Blood Bearon
High House Canis (Plymouth Falls #2)
Get the Five Book Bundle (Click Here)
Includes:
Savage Love
Blood Mate
Moonlight Bride
Shadow’s Howl
Royal Alpha
High House Draconis (Plymouth Falls #3)
Get the Five Book Bundle (Click Here)
Includes:
Fire Dragons Bride
Mated to the Water Dragon
Ice Dragon’s Caress
Earth Dragon’s Kiss
Claimed by the Dragon King
About the Author
Riley Storm
Riley is one of those early-morning people you love to hate, because she swears she doesn’t need caffeine, even though the coffee-maker is connected to her smartphone. She lives in a three-story townhouse by the good graces of a tabby-cat who rules the house, the couch, the table, well, basically everywhere. When she’s not groveling for forgiveness for neglecting to pet her kitty enough, Riley is strapped in to her writing chair coming up with crazy worlds where she can make her own decisions of when feeding time is and how much coffee can be drank without her friends—of which she has three—holding yet another intervention that they threaten to post on the internet.