The Dragon's Rebellious Sacrifice: a Dragon Shifter Romance (The Last Dragons Book 4)

by Ines Johnson

  A cynical person would’ve called the disease a model’s dream. A natural born reason that would keep them slim. The truth was, they were both undernourished and desperate for sustenance.

  Which meant Rose couldn’t slap away the assistant’s hand. Not if she wanted to get herself and her sister fed anytime soon. Already, she could see Lily sway as she held tight to her smile and concentrated on the wall. Rose needed to do the same.

  It took everything in Rose to hold still and let this happen. She had to let it happen. So, she pulled on a smile and pulled at the front of her top so that Park could get a peek inside.

  “I can’t see,” said Gates. “Why don’t you both take your tops off.”

  Rose tasted the bile at the back of her throat. The forced smile she was trying to hold onto fell completely. A glance in her peripheral vision told her that Lily had already moved past considering it and was moving toward action.

  Lily caught her gaze. They had that twin thing where they knew what each other was thinking. They needed the money. They needed the medication. It was just their bodies. Neither of them had ever actually laid down on any couch. Because they usually took jobs together and therefore were never alone.

  It was just their bodies. They needed the money. They needed their medication.

  Rose could hear the last three phrases loudly in her sister’s gaze. She heard when Lily flicked the button on her top. Rose reached out her hand to stay her sister’s before she could get to the next button.

  “Fine,” said Gates. “You don’t want to play ball, Rose? Get out. Lily can stay.”

  Lily gulped. They never allowed themselves to be separated. Another growl tore through the room. It wasn’t Rose’s belly. By the look of surprise on Lily’s face, it wasn’t hers either.

  “You know what’s worse than a man who takes advantage of a woman?” said a voice from the window. “A woman who takes advantage of other women.”

  They all turned to the woman in the window and gaped. Gaped because they were on the fourth floor of the office building. So how could anyone be at the window?

  A woman in a figure-hugging leather suit stepped over the ledge in a pair of boots that Rose would’ve considered trading her meds for. Had this model casting call somehow turned into a call for actresses? Were they possibly being considered as a double for this woman? Because if so, neither Rose nor Lily would make the cut.

  The woman was built like a brick house. She had curves where the twins were flat. Her full head of purple hair had to be a wig, an expensive one at that. And the muscles the woman had on her had to have come from testosterone injections. Though Rose had heard of plastic surgery where they sewed boob implants under the skin to look like muscle.

  However, Rose got the distinct impression that this actress wasn’t on call. If she was, why was Park backing up from her with fear in her eyes? Why had Gates scrambled out of his chair and back to the wall?

  “There’s a cold place in hell for a woman like you,” the purple-haired action star was saying. “Unfortunately, I can’t give you a ride. I’m here for them.”

  Unnaturally bright eyes shone a spotlight on Rose and Lily. Rose turned her body, trying to shield her baby sister. Though they had shared a womb and were born on the same day, Rose was a full hour older. A fact she never let Lily forget.

  “Wherever there’s trouble, I always seem to find a fireblood.” She turned her back on the two predators and walked toward Rose and Lily. That was her first mistake. Never give your back to a casting director.

  Two things happened at once. Park made a dash for the door. While Gates pulled a gun out of the drawer.

  For a second, Rose wondered if she was hallucinating. Sometimes when the nausea and abdominal pain hit, her mind wandered, and she saw things. Things like fire dancing in the sunlight. Flowers lifting up their petals and whispering to her. She’d never told anyone about these visions, not even Lily.

  So when Lily pulled Rose to the ground a split second before the gun went off, Rose knew she wasn’t hallucinating. Gates really had just pulled a gun and shot it. Pain radiated through Rose’s frail, malnourished body. But she’d live. There were no holes in either her or Lily. The only impact that had hit them was their bodies on the floor.

  “I hate guns,” said the purple-haired woman. “Trust a man to invent something phallic to shoot a seed that kills.”

  Rose looked up to find the woman eyeing the bullet as she turned it over in her hand. Smoke still billowed from the barrel where the bullet had shot from. Had she caught the bullet?

  No. That was impossible. Rose decided she needed to revisit the idea of hallucinations again. Especially when the purple-haired woman cocked her arm back like a pitcher tossing a ball and let the bullet fly.

  Park, whose hand had been on the doorknob, screamed and crumpled to the floor. Blood oozed from a hole in her hand. That woman had just thrown the bullet at the fleeing assistant with the velocity of a firearm.

  It was settled. Rose was delirious from the lack of sustenance in her belly. Because the other explanation simply wasn’t possible. When she looked over at her sister, Rose knew through the twin connection that Lily had seen the unbelievable feat as well.

  “I’ll be back for the two of you someday,” said the purple-haired woman. Then she turned to look down at Rose and Lily. “You two, you’re coming with me.”

  Then Rose was airborne. She was being tossed out a window. Her scream caught in her throat because when she looked down and didn’t see the ground she was expecting to see, her eyes rolled back in her head. Because she couldn’t have seen what she thought she had just seen. She couldn’t have seen a dragon floating outside the window with its wings outstretched and a friendly smile on its face.

  That was the last thing she remembered before blackness took her.

  Chapter Three

  Ilia pushed his body to slice faster through the air currents. His dark scales, a purple so deep it could be the black of the sky, blended with the night. His wingspan so vast that he covered the distance quickly. Birds gave him a wide berth.

  As a fledgling, he’d been slow to fly. His paper-thin wings hadn’t had enough strength to carry his small, weak body. Now, Ilia was the strongest creature on land or in the air.

  He flew with a purpose. His movements agile and precise as he covered the distance to the Veil, that crack in the atmosphere that was the boundary between the garden the Goddess cordoned off to experiment on life and the world beyond where she let her favorite experiments roam free and procreate.

  There wasn’t much procreation going on on this side of the Veil. The forgotten early trials of the Goddess had everlasting life but not the ability to breed. Her daughters, the Valkyrie, were born fully-fledged warriors who could take life, but they were sterile—and largely uninterested—when it came to creating it. She had crafted beasts who could shift their shape into men. But she had not made a single female who could do the same. The only beings on this side of the Veil who could beget life were the fae-kind. However, their way of doing it didn’t seem to Ilia to be all that fun.

  Ilia wasn’t interested in fairies anymore. The only female he wanted was the one that would be his, and his alone. She was near.

  He could feel it in his bones. He could hear her in his chest. She needed him. He wouldn’t fail her. He would be her hero.

  Ilia pushed himself even harder. The flapping of his wings like a drumbeat in the night. His breaths a rumble of thunder on the horizon. Everything got out of his way as he flew. Until one thing didn’t.

  Ilia was not the only apex predator in the air. A golden-brown light streaked across the sky, like sunlight flashing into the night. Ilia groaned as he reduced his speed and came in for a landing. His descent was smooth. So was the golden dragon’s.

  With a crunch of bone and sinew, both he and his brother shifted from their dragon state. Ilia’s dragon resisted the shift at first. Both man and beast could sense that she was near. For the first time, Ilia ha
d to fight his dragon for control of his body.

  He’d watched his other brothers struggle with their beasts over the years. Without a human female to take as a mate, the dragons slowly gained control over the men. Beryl had been the least in control until he claimed Poppy. Rhoyl had given up entirely. None of them had seen Rhoyl as a man for years.

  With a grunt and shove, Ilia reclaimed his body from the dragon. He straightened on powerful thighs that had once been too feeble to hold his form. It took Elek a moment longer to shift. Unlike the rest of his brothers, Elek didn’t spend much time in his dragon form. The human part of him was always in total control.

  “Where are you headed?” Elek said.

  “The Veil.” Ilia began walking the rest of the way. Already he could feel the surge of power from the rift between worlds. The energy was hot, but it gave off no actual heat. Just a feeling that he would burn from the inside out if he got too close. Ilia kept moving forward.

  “Are you expecting a delivery from Morrigan?” Elek asked, close on his heels.

  “No. I’m going to get my package myself.”

  Elek’s steps didn’t falter, but he did fall a step behind Ilia. Ilia felt his brother’s steady gaze on his back. Of all his brothers, he was the least happy to have Elek follow him.

  Corun would’ve used logic to deter him from his mission. Kimber would’ve shouted a command to turn around. Beryl would’ve tried to step in front of Ilia to get there first.

  But Elek? He caught up with Ilia. Not getting in front of him. Not lagging behind him. Elek simply nodded his head with no other comment.

  Ilia came to a halt and faced his brother. “What?”

  Elek raised a brow. “What what?”

  “You think it’s impulsive? You think I’m making a mistake?”

  “Do you feel you’re making an impulsive mistake?”

  This is why Ilia wished another of his brothers had followed him. Elek’s nonjudgmental attitude always appeared to Ilia as a mirror. With no discrimination, Elek acted as a reflection of one’s emotions.

  “Come with me,” Ilia said, changing tactics.

  “Come with you beyond the Veil?”

  “Yes. To find our mates.”

  “I don’t want a mate,” said Elek.

  “You’re going to need a mate if you want to stay a man,” Ilia insisted.

  “If the dragon takes me,” Elek shrugged, “so be it. I can do my work in either form.”

  “Then do it for Rhoyl. He’s lost to us, but if we find his mate, he might come back.”

  “Rhoyl’s not lost,” said Elek. “He made a choice.”

  See? It was just like talking to a mirror. Or worse, a puddle of muddy water that made no sense.

  “Well, I’m going in,” said Ilia, turning away from his brother and back to that hot wave of energy. “I’ll be like Arnold in the Terminator movies looking for our Sarah Connor.”

  “Didn’t the Terminator go to kill Sarah Connor?”

  Why did everyone see the movie that way? Ilia didn’t want to waste time explaining the plot. He could feel her near. His very own Sarah.

  “Besides, that’s a fictional story, brother,” Elek continued. “That is the real world out there, not a film. You can’t survive there.”

  “I won’t be there long,” said Ilia. “I have a plan. I’ll find Arnold, and he’ll help me.”

  “The Terminator isn’t real, Ilia.”

  “Arnold is real. Chryssie said he’s a governor now. I’ll find a phone box, call Governor Schwarzenegger, and then we’ll look in the Book of Yellow Pages and find my mate. Easy.”

  Elek sighed. But at least he didn’t argue any longer. How could he argue? Ilia’s plan was solid. This would work.

  The heat radiating off that tear in the fabric of the Earth pushed at Ilia. But Ilia had met bigger and meaner bullies. He pushed back.

  Even with all the strength he’d gained from years of fighting wasn’t enough. The Veil blasted outward, sending both Ilia and Elek back on their bare asses.

  When Ilia was able to open his eyes, he saw a dragon emerge. It sailed through the crack to land a few feet from Ilia. The dragon was a natural-born beast who didn’t harbor a man inside of him. This dragon had a woman on his back.

  “Oh good, you two are here. That saves me a trip.”

  Morrigan slid a leg over the dragon’s back and dismounted. Then she reached up and grabbed first one and then another sack. She tossed the first to Ilia. Elek caught the other.

  The sacks weren’t heavy. They were light as a bouquet of flowers. In fact, the sacks smelled like the most fragrant blossoms Ilia had ever come in contact with. They smelled like human women.

  “These are the last two with fire in their blood,” said Morrigan. “Now that I’ve cleaned up that little mess Draco and Regin made by letting the pregnant human back across the Veil, I’m done being your dating app. Have a nice life.”

  And with that, Morrigan hopped back on board her dragon and took flight. Ilia and Elek watched her fly off. Then they both looked down at what they held in their arms.

  Ilia pulled the covering off the sack. Inside, he found a heart-shaped face surrounded by hair like fire. Two pink lips that looked ready to be kissed. And pale skin that appeared translucent under the moon’s light.

  Elek removed the sack covering to reveal an identical face. Twins. They had been delivered as twins.

  And one of them was Ilia’s. He felt it in his bones, in his heart. But which one?

  “I have dibs,” Ilia said.

  Chapter Four

  Rose knew she was sleeping. She felt warm and toasty in her bed. Like she was floating on a cloud, not the hard mattress she shared with her sister. Her body was stretched, and her muscles felt languid. Her belly was full and settled. Not a grumble or twinge of pain to be found.

  This dream was heaven. More than anything, she did not want to wake from this fantasy. It was better than any reality.

  Still, something urged her to open her eyes. It wasn’t a sense of danger. Not like when she was in a dressing room on a modeling gig and a picture frame was askew because it held a hidden camera. Not like when she was on set, and the photographer asked her to put on and take off a robe when Rose could see the continuous red light on the camera that indicated it was recording a video he could later use on a porn site.

  No. Rose didn’t feel she was in that kind of danger. She felt exposed, but she also felt no need to cover up. She knew without knowing how she knew that her body was protected from any harm or leering eyes.

  Though the dreamworld was heaven, Rose knew that back in reality, she could be in danger. There was silence in her bedroom. There was never silence in her bedroom.

  Normally, she could hear the next-door neighbors arguing. The woman screeching, followed by the thud of flesh against flesh. Sometimes that thudding was carnal. Most times, it was the thud of violence, followed by the sirens of police.

  But Rose didn’t remember making it home. The last thing she remembered was being at the casting call for the latest modeling gig with her sister. She remembered Park tugging at her clothes to reveal more of her skin. She remembered Gates ogling at her with those beady eyes of his. And then blackness.

  Oh, no. What if she had been drugged? Again.

  That had to be the reason for the warm toasty feeling and the blessed silence. Coupled with how loose her body felt. Those bastards had drugged her.

  But how? She didn’t remember drinking or eating anything. They hadn’t offered. And even if they had, she knew better than to take it.

  Still, something wasn’t quite right. Mainly because everything felt right. Rose felt safe, and warm, and comfortable. Such unfamiliar feelings that assured her that she was, indeed, in grave danger.

  Rose struggled to open first one then another eyelid. When she managed to slit her eyes open a fraction, she wished she’d closed them back. A bright purple light assaulted her eyes.

  It was like Barney, the purple dinosaur,
had his butt in her face. The jewel-tone shimmered like the giant stuffed animal was twerking right under her nose. Rose had never seen anything like it.

  Her eyes quickly adjusted, and she opened them wider to see that there was no purple dinosaur. This wasn’t an actual light. There were gems all around her.

  Were these jade? Amethyst? Rose didn’t know her jewels. She’d never worn anything except loaned jewelry on-set or costume jewelry bought at the convenience store. She knew that what she was seeing all around her was the real deal.

  Where the hell was she?

  Actually, no. Scratch that. Rose became less concerned with where she was and more concerned with why she couldn’t move.

  She looked up to see that her forearms were bound with rope. She knew she should panic. But a different feeling won the race up her arms and into her chest.

  Fascination.

  Rose was fascinated by the intricate knots along her forearms. The rope was the same deep shade of purple as the gems. Where the three knots formed, they bloomed out to make loops that reminded her of rose petals.

  Looking down, she saw the same patterns over her legs. In the past, on runways and on photo shoots, she had been dressed in the most bizarre of costumes, from strips of paper to aluminum foil. But never rope. Never something that constricted her movement.

  That’s when she remembered; she couldn’t move. She wasn’t being dressed up. She was being held against her will.

  Now the panic moved in. Rose struggled against the ropes to break free. The instant she tried to free herself, pain slammed into her.

  Abrasions from the bindings scratched at her arms where they had cradled her only a second ago. The cords tightened where they were fastened and dug into her skin.

  Rose stopped moving. The moment she did, the relief was instant and all-consuming. Pleasure replaced the pain.

  Her mind reeled at the opposite reactions. She held still, and that languid feeling cascaded through her body once more. When she struggled, she felt pain. When she relaxed, she felt like she never needed to move again.