Dragon Shifter Dominion 1: Passion of the Summer Dragon

by KC Kingmaker

  This round is far from over, dragon boy.

  He made a dismissive sound but didn’t stop me from rubbing the berries on his wound. “Of course I’m not scared. An Unscaled could never frighten me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “You’re everything I imagined a dragon shifter would be—arrogant, snooty, and oh so superior.”

  “I am superior.”

  I couldn’t roll my eyes any fucking harder. I just sighed loudly.

  There was a short lull in the conversation. The crackling fire nearby matched the rhythm of my own fire inside. My heart was beating much faster than usual.

  “Why are you helping me?” he finally asked. “I’m your—”

  “Competition. Yes, I remember.” I’d gotten enough of the berry pulp on his wound, so I sat up on my knees, my feet tucked back against my heels. “I suppose it’s in my nature to help people.”

  He studied me. I had to look away before that amber gaze pierced my soul and lit a new blaze at the juncture between my thighs.

  I was already struggling with my awakened libido enough as is.

  “Yes,” he said eventually, with a slow nod. “You’re not like the others of your kind. I saw how you tried to help feeble women in your town.”

  I lurched, nearly falling backward, my eyes bulging. “W-What! Were you spying on me?”

  “Not spying,” he said quickly. “Uh, observing. For research. Have to keep my eyes on my rival, after all.”

  I saw a flicker in his eyes—the first sign of doubt I’d seen from the man. His jaw muscles tightened and I knew I’d finally gotten the better of him.

  I took the chance to thrust a finger toward his chest, but he didn’t flinch.

  “Also,” I said sharply, “those women are stronger than you’ll ever know.”

  Silence fell for another beat—tense, palpable, our eyes searing into one another.

  “Uh, is anyone gonna eat the rest of these sausages, or should I just cram them all down? I’m not trying to put on any more weight, you know, but they smell fucking divine and my dogged self-restraint can only be tested so far.”

  Clive’s voice was a welcome respite. I tore my gaze away from the dragon and stood, smiling and chuckling airily at the trader.

  As I sat next to him and started munching, the dragon cleared his throat.

  I looked up at the haughty bastard and saw something like remorse on his too-handsome face.

  “I . . . apologize if I offended your women,” he said, eyes averted.

  I finished swallowing my food. “They’re not my women. They’re independent ladies trying to make better lives for themselves. But I can tell how much that took out of you to say. So I’ll take it. Apology accepted.”

  He blinked.

  I ran a hand through my long hair. “And I, uh, apologize if I came out here and pounced on you kicking and screaming. I woke up in a weird mood.”

  He arched a brow, a slow smile budding. “Pouncing on me would have been much more preferable to—”

  “Ah, look at that!” Clive blurted, suddenly jumping to his feet. “We’re all out of time and sausages. But aren’t I happy you two can actually talk like adults! Maybe we won’t kill each other on this sojourn after all.”

  We both watched him walk away.

  When he reached the wagon, he turned to us with an expectant look on his face. He gestured toward the wagon cart. “Up, up, you two. We’re moving!”

  12

  Coalt

  This woman was going to be the death of me.

  Not in any literal sense, because she would never be able to defeat me in combat, but I could barely contain myself around her.

  She was so different than the women of the Emberlands, like Dyna or Ashlyn, and yet so similar at the same time. I had no doubt she’d make a great travel companion once she got out of her mucky little bubble.

  But it was not meant to be. Not between us, anyway.

  Once I found my sword, I would return to the Summer House to take care of the issues there. I’d been shirking my responsibilities for too long. My homeland was a mess.

  But the idea of Levy traveling through Caan with anyone other than me—it made me angry just thinking about it.

  My rising temper startled me. My sister had always called me a “possessive spitfire,” but I would have never imagined being possessive in respects to an Unscaled woman like this one.

  She was messing with my head, and she didn’t even know it.

  We traveled the entire day in the wagon together, as separated as we could be in the small, enclosed space. She leaned against her oversized backpack near the front of the cart, whereas I sat near the back.

  For a while, we said nothing, with only the creaking sound of the wheels and the gentle breeze through the wagon flap to give us any noise. Hours must have passed in agonizing silence. I just wanted to know more about this strange creature, yet she didn’t seem interested in talking to me.

  Perhaps I had made a fool of myself over the morning campfire. Maybe my tongue had been sharpened a bit too fine.

  But so had hers!

  Gah.

  “What’s your name, anyway?”

  I looked up and blinked at her. She was staring at me with those lustrous purple eyes. Had she just said something to me, after hours of not speaking?

  “Huh?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Your name. Dragons have names, don’t they?”

  There was that snark again. I had to keep myself from smiling so I didn’t set her off . . . but I also wanted to push her buttons a bit because she was so good at pushing mine.

  I wondered if this would be another round of barbed exchange.

  “Yes, of course we do. It’s Coalt.”

  Lines creased her forehead. Apparently she wasn’t content with my answer.

  “Colt? As in . . . a baby horse?”

  “No, as in the things used in fires. But with a T.”

  Her eyes widened. “Ohhh, coal-tuh.”

  I nodded. “Most my family is similarly named. In fact, most dragon shifters are named along the lines of their element.” I flapped a hand at her in annoyance, not with her, but this line of conversation. “It’s a whole thing.”

  “Interesting. And odd.”

  She appeared deep in thought, staring at me. She wasn’t staring at me, it seemed, but rather through me, like she could peer into my soul.

  It made me uncomfortable. I had to shift my weight and, um, readjust myself, but I couldn’t while she was staring at me. Not with any decency. So I just arched my knee, blocking any sight of my nether regions.

  It was amazing how she could ignite the fire inside me—much like my namesake—without so much as touching me or dragging those lips across my body.

  I cleared my throat, trying to compose myself before I got carried away. “And your name is Levy,” I said, trying to continue the conversation.

  “What?” she replied quickly, her voice harsh. “Who told you that? No. You can’t call me that.” She sounded offended, and I didn’t know why. “My name is Levia. Levy is what my best friends call me.”

  Tilting my head, I rolled the name around in my mouth before pushing it out. “Levia. My apologies.”

  She drew her knees tight against her and wrapped her arms around them, making herself look more vulnerable than I’d yet seen.

  And were her cheeks gaining color? What was she embarrassed about?

  “Sorry for the outburst,” she said meekly, averting her gaze.

  “It’s fine. Levia. That’s a peculiar name.”

  “Yes, well, it’s actually another nickname.”

  I had to smile. “You Unscaled are a strange species. Would you get offended if I asked what it’s short for?”

  “Leviathan.” She drew in a deep breath. “My name is Leviathan Sunfall.”

  My eyebrows rose. “That’s a powerful name. And it makes sense.”

  “How so?” She snapped her eyes in my direction.

  Studying her face, I start
ed to think I knew why she was acting so defensive around me: She didn’t trust men.

  The way I’d seen her interact with them at Jervus’ tavern; the fact she had a refuge for battered women, and only lived with females.

  It all pointed to the fact she didn’t trust men a single bit, and I had to know why—what in her life had caused her to reject the entire other half of her species?

  But we were much too early in our relationship to be discussing such things.

  Ha! Relationship! What kind of hole are you getting yourself into, Coalt? You are a Firesworn dragon shifter, for Fernus’ sake.

  My logical mind knew anything between a dragon shifter and an Unscaled woman could never last—could never be in the first place.

  Yet it was the exact same dragon inside me that called out for Leviathan Sunfall, clawing toward her.

  What a strange dichotomy—an odd game of war brewing inside me.

  She was staring at me peculiarly, almost pityingly, like I’d gone dense. I’d been quiet for a while.

  “Are you going to answer me?” she asked. “What is that supposed to mean, that my name ‘makes sense’?”

  I gave her a half-smile. “Oh, I did not mean it in an insulting way. Only that you have the heart of a serpent inside you.” I shrugged. “A dragon, if you will.”

  She reddened and withdrew, curling up even tighter against her backpack. “Oh,” she said in a soft, breathy murmur. “Uh, thanks, I guess.”

  I saw the tiny smile that formed on her full lips for just a moment. After I blinked, it was gone.

  She cleared her throat and did a little readjusting of her own, shifting her weight. “So, um, what happened to you up there? Why did you just tumble out of the sky like that, so suddenly?”

  I drew in a deep breath, wondering how to answer such a question. “It’s difficult to explain.”

  “You don’t have to if you don’t want,” she quickly replied.

  “No, it’s fine. It’s embarrassing to say, but I’ve felt a lack of energy lately. My concentration is shot. I can’t focus properly and I can’t maintain my shift for extended periods. It’s not normal, believe me.”

  A mischievous look overcame her once I’d finished blabbing. I’m not sure why I was telling her all this—these were things she could use against me in the future.

  But she had a way with me.

  “What is it?” I asked, insanely curious why she was looking at me so . . . wantonly? Or perhaps I was misreading her features.

  “Oh, nothing,” she said. “I just didn’t know dragons suffered from performance anxiety like normal men.”

  “I—” my breath sailed out of my lungs, mouth agape, eyes wide. She was controlling a fit of giggles and I couldn’t help but throw my head back and snort, then break into hearty chuckling.

  I had a million snide things I could have said to her about that but, truth be told, I didn’t want to argue with Leviathan. I liked seeing her crooked grin more than a hurt frown.

  My sharp temperament made me instantly defensive, but we were much the same in that. It’s why our conversations had started so roughly and bitingly, I reckoned.

  Yes, Levia could be sarcastic and witty, but that was part of her appeal. I was drawn to her quickness and that untamed passion resting in her roguish purple eyes.

  She was such a breath of fresh air from the militaristic, angry folk of the Emberlands. The wars and conflicts and betrayals had made everyone there wary and spiteful. Either that, or submissive to the Empress.

  This Unscaled woman, she was certainly not submissive. And I wasn’t sure I wanted her to be. I didn’t want to tame her wild spirit.

  For all of her flaws, she’s more like me than anyone I’ve met.

  I . . . enjoyed being around her.

  And Fernus forfend—had I ever pegged her wrong at the start!

  “Hey, your chest,” she said abruptly, drawing me out of my daze again. She was pointing at me.

  I furrowed my brow and looked down. My cloak had fallen a bit from my shoulders, slipping open at my chest. The painful gash from my plunge was nearly gone, now just a thin line of pink where the bloody wound had been just this morning.

  Her eyes were wide when I glanced up at her.

  “Praise Merlog, I’ve never seen the berries work that fast!” she exclaimed.

  I scratched my scalp ashamedly. “Ah, yes, well, dragons heal quicker than Unscaled. It’s part of our genetics.”

  She flared her nostrils.

  Uh oh.

  “Then why were you picking at your wound like a curious toddler earlier?”

  I shrugged. “Curious to see what you’d do, I suppose?”

  Shit, the truth was out. It definitely lent itself to her argument of shifters being arrogant and boisterous, me drawing attention to myself in the morning.

  She spoke in a measured tone, though I could tell she was barely keeping it together. “So I didn’t have to use my berries on you?”

  Just like that, the magical spell tethering us together seemed to snap.

  “No, I guess not.”

  “Gah!” she cried, throwing her arms in the air. “What a waste! We might need those!”

  “I just said I can heal my—”

  “I might need those, you selfish prick!”

  Her beautiful face was glowing with indignation, a vein pulsing near her temple.

  “Oh,” I said stupidly, not sure what to do. “I’m sorry. But you won’t need them.”

  “And how can you know that?!”

  “Because I’ll make sure you are protected until we reach Cerophus City.”

  The purple fire in her eyes snuffed out like a spent candle. “And then?” she asked quietly.

  “And then all bets are off,” I replied simply. I couldn’t let her know I’d fallen for her during this wagon ride. Not yet. I still needed to resist, dammit. I had work to do!

  “We’ll go our separate ways,” I added, to drive the point home. “Since we are rivals and all.”

  Disappointment flashed in her eyes. It hurt my heart to see.

  “Right,” she said. She tried to shake off her sudden dismay. “And what is it about this sword that makes it so important to you, Coalt? You’re not like other bounty hunters I’ve seen.”

  “I thought I was exactly what you expected from—”

  “From a dragon shifter, sure. But that’s much different than a bounty hunter. And, I’ll have you know, you’re actually starting to surprise me.” She wagged a finger. “Perhaps you’re not everything I expected from a dragon shifter after all.”

  “How so?” I asked, canting my head.

  “Well, for one, we’re having this conversation, right? These are the most words we’ve spoken. So at least you’re capable of talking with people who are so beneath you.”

  I turned away, saddened she could use my own words so deftly against me.

  Levia was good. She was making me rethink my position about a whole lot of things. I found myself wanting her to think fondly of me.

  I just hoped she wasn’t using this as some sort of means to weaken me—some bounty hunter trick she could use against me in the future.

  Because her tender eyes looked so sincere.

  I scooted closer to her across the wagon, not sure what I was doing. I could feel her body heat as I closed in. “I am not too proud to admit when I am wrong, and I think I was wrong about you,” I said in a low voice, as if I didn’t want the breeze to hear me. “You are not beneath me, Leviathan Sunfall.”

  Her breathing came shallow. I felt her light puffs of air spilling toward me. My heightened senses could smell the natural cinnamon and earthy tones of her body, curling pleasantly into my nose and simmering my soul.

  In front of me, she was taut. The tension between us was riveting. I hoped there would be a time when she didn’t feel so rigid next to me.

  I leaned in, my eyes focused on the puffy curves of her lips . . .

  The wagon abruptly stopped and I jerked forwa
rd—

  Our foreheads smacked together and we both cursed loudly and recoiled, grabbing our respective skulls.

  “Ow, what the fuck!” she growled, eyes clenched shut.

  “Hooray!” came Clive’s voice from outside. “We’re here, lovebirds!”

  13

  Levia

  I can’t believe we just almost kissed! What was I thinking?!

  No, no, I would have pulled away at the last second. I’m sure of it. I just met the bastard!

  I rubbed my forehead as I jumped off the end of the wagon. A dull ache was building behind my eyes after clumsily smacking into Coalt. An odd surge thrummed through my body I couldn’t put my finger on.

  I hated to say it, but the conversation I’d just had with the dragon shifter had been pleasant. Blythe would never believe it.

  We had been raised—or told, rather—that dragon shifter men could not be trusted. If Unscaled guys were bad, dragon shifters were the worst. They were more dangerous because they were more handsome and arrogant. Oh yeah, and because they could turn into fucking dragons in the blink of an eye.

  So far, all those things had been true. Coalt was overly handsome and arrogant, but I had to assume he’d been raised with that superiority complex.

  And unless he was just putting on a façade, it wasn’t all bad. Now I was wondering if I was told “dragon shifters bad” as a little girl because the men of Belfue were just jealous of them? Of their power, grace, and beauty? What other lies had I been fed as a youngling?

  I wanted to learn more about the Summer House, what was affecting his “concentration,” and he still hadn’t told me what the dragonrune sword meant to him, and—

  I stopped myself.

  By the gods, I actually wanted to talk to him more. And do much, much more to him, but those were things I absolutely had to keep secret and barricaded behind my sarcastic posturing.

  Coalt couldn’t know how much I wanted to rip off that stupid cloak and feel every dip and plane of his muscled body, lick his scorching neck and stare into those smoldering eyes and grip his hot cock and . . .