Dragon Shifter Dominion 1: Passion of the Summer Dragon

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Dragon Shifter Dominion 1: Passion of the Summer Dragon Page 13

by KC Kingmaker


  I would give him a little bit of a show before we resumed our travels.

  Naked except for the locket around my neck—which never left my body—I skipped through the tall grass toward the wide river. The sun sparkled off the surface in white patches.

  I scanned the area when I made it to the bank of the river.

  Not a splash. A totally serene, undisturbed surface.

  “What . . . the fuck.”

  I started to panic, my heart rising to my throat.

  Throwing all thoughts of sexiness aside, I ran up the little hill to my tent.

  The fur he’d been using as a blanket outside my tent, before I’d invited him, was gone.

  My stomach sank.

  Birds chirped overhead. Little bugs made chirring noises near the bank of the river. The breeze was calm and warm. Those were the only signs of life.

  Coalt was gone.

  My mind stumbling, I thought of the possibilities: Had he been kidnapped and dragged away? No, that was idiotic. Did he wander off to poach some breakfast for us? No, we still had plenty of food in the bags, which he’d left here. Which meant he couldn’t have expected to be going far.

  A single word rang through my mind: Competition.

  The dragonrune sword. Adversaries.

  He had betrayed me. Taken my trust with his oozing sex appeal and then stomped on it and crushed me.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  I FELT STARK RAVING mad as I left the safety of the outcropping. I couldn’t think straight through my anger.

  Had everything Coalt told me about himself been a lie just to make me feel, what, sympathy? Just to draw me in closer? I tried not to believe it. He couldn’t have been that cruel.

  Then I remembered my teachings as a child: Dragon shifters are the worst among us.

  The smoldering closeness building between us, could it have all been a ploy?

  He had promised to keep me safe until Cerophus City, and then had said all bets were off after that. We were bounty hunters on the hunt for the same asset. How could I have been so foolish to think otherwise—that anything real could form between us?

  It almost brought me to tears, knowing what we’d done last night. What I had instigated.

  I lugged my backpack and made it to the next tall hill. It was the biggest one yet.

  As I crested the hill by midday, I drew in a sharp breath.

  A sprawling city was laid out before me among the plains.

  Cerophus.

  Oh. Well, that wasn’t so bad. Had we known Cerophus City was so close to our stopping point the night before, we probably would have pushed on to make it there.

  Is that why he had left me, then? Had he realized we were within inches of our goalpost and his tactical mind calculated his best chance of retrieving his sword was dashing away while I slept?

  Since he’d finally “had me,” I had to assume I meant nothing to him anymore. Like all other men, he had become callous and only concerned with his own ambitions.

  I would never forgive him. He had tossed me aside.

  Abandoned me.

  I stormed down the hill toward the city. It looked five times bigger than Belfue. A large wall surrounded it, with an iron portcullis as an entrance. The portcullis gate was lifted open to incoming traders.

  A few guards stood watch at the gate, talking with the odd merchant here and there.

  I stood at a distance and watched for a while. There didn’t seem to be rhyme or reason why the guards were stopping certain traders and not others.

  The breeze curled some of my silver hair in front of my face, and that brought up another thing: If the death of that Cerophus Defender had become public, they’d be looking for an auburn-haired man and silver-haired woman traveling together.

  Well, at least we weren’t traveling together any longer, so that worked to my advantage. The guards would hopefully be on the watch for a duo.

  Even so, my hair made me stick out.

  I ended up slicing apart the fur pelt I had used as a blanket the night before—the same one Coalt and I had shared during our intimacy. I could still smell his bonfire and pine scent on it.

  Sorry, Clive, I thought as I tore into the pelt with my dagger.

  I managed to fashion a makeshift hood, which I strung to the collar of my tunic and flipped over my head, tucking my silver hair away.

  I would look odd wearing a furred hood in this kind of heat, but it was better than announcing myself as an associate to murder with my gleaming hair.

  There were various roads leading to the southern gate of Cerophus. The trail I traveled was just one of many. Carts and wagons and groups of people were coming in from all directions. It was a crowded day.

  I debated asking a passing trader with a cart full of linens if I could sleep in between them, but knew that would set off red flags. I couldn’t risk him giving me away.

  Instead, I nudged my way into a line of folks who were heading in at the same time and decided I’d take my chances. If the guards pulled me out of the lineup, I’d just play dumb. And if that didn’t work, I’d run away and try a different tactic. These guys had likely been ordered to maintain their posts, so I didn’t think they’d give chase.

  My heart was racing as I made it close to the gate with my new friends who didn’t know they were my friends. We were a large crowd, mostly with baskets and a few wheelbarrows.

  Before we reached the front, I found the oldest looking lady and smiled at her weathered face. “Here, Vera, might I take that for you? It looks heavy.”

  She was carrying a basket of smelly fish, but I didn’t care about the contents, just that it looked like I was bringing something into the city.

  “Oh dear, that’s very sweet of you,” the old woman said with a charming smile. She studied my face for a moment as if debating whether she thought I was going to run off with her goods like some hoodlum.

  Eventually, she passed me the basket and I stayed by her side as we approached the guards.

  One of them came over and my heart tried to thud its way out of my chest.

  “What’ve you got here?” he asked.

  “Fish,” I said, lifting the smelly basket higher.

  He scrunched his nose, padded his hand around a few layers of fish carcasses, and decided he’d had enough. “And who are you traveling with?”

  Without missing a beat, I said, “My grandmother. They’re her fish, actually. I’m just holding them for her.”

  “Nice girl,” the man said, and he gave me a lascivious grin. I wanted to punch his teeth into the back of his throat.

  “Thank you, Vero,” I managed to spit out.

  “Carry on.”

  And we did.

  Inside, the town was like a bazaar—the square was a commotion of people going this way and that without any apparent roads leading out of the fray.

  Grandmother hobbled alongside me, unbothered by the huge crowd near the gate, but I was getting nervous.

  “Where would you like me to drop this off, Vera?” I asked.

  “Oh, honey, it’s okay. I can take it from here.”

  Her skin was tinged brown from a life of hard labor. I had no doubt she could “take it from here,” but I felt obliged to her for helping me.

  “I insist,” I said, bowing my head.

  “Well, all right. It’s just this way.” She led me away from the bazaar and down an actual road that popped up. Houses and buildings went on as far as I could see.

  This was a big city. I’d easily get lost here. I needed some direction and Chief Garnu hadn’t given me enough to go on, the weasel.

  All I knew was the name of the man I was looking for: Manek.

  “Why did you make up a story about your relation to me, young lady?” Grandmother asked as we reached a quieter avenue.

  I grimaced. “Sorry about that. I just needed to get in here.”

  “Are you wanted or something? This is a free city. You didn’t have to sneak in.”

  “Eh, would it
ruin your opinion of me if I said yes?”

  She chuckled. “Oh, no, I used to be quite a ragamuffin myself. We do what we do to get by.”

  We reached a district that smelled worse than the basket I hauled. Combined with my backpack, I was being weighed down and wasn’t going to make it much further.

  Food sellers inhabited both sides of the street with makeshift tents. We’d entered a shantytown, everyone looking poor and angry.

  “Pleasant looking folks here,” I said, trying to make conversation. So far, Grandmother was my only friend in these parts.

  She laughed, showing me a mouth that had more gaps than teeth. “Yes, but they are my people.”

  “Have you always been a fisherwoman?”

  “Oh, I’m not a fisherwoman. My sons are. I just sell it.”

  “They don’t join you to make sure you’re safe?”

  Her rheumy eyes twinkled. “I may be old, but I can take care of myself.”

  I smiled swiftly. “I’m sure, Vera.”

  We reached an empty tent where a younger man was setting up shop.

  “And besides,” she said, “I have one of my sons right here. Darin, look at the pretty thing I found walking in. This is . . .”

  “Levia,” I said, blushing slightly. The man was quite handsome, with a full beard and strong shoulders. Even though he was Grandmother’s son, he was easily twice my age.

  “A pleasure, Vera.” He bowed low. Even in his peasant’s clothes, he had an air of nobility that made me wonder if he’d been disenfranchised, or just felt like he had.

  Life looked tough here—even in a shining city like Cerophus. It was still a Wildlands city.

  “You should ask her on a date, Darin,” Grandmother said matter-of-factly.

  “Mother!” Darin blustered, his cheeks going red.

  “Grandmother!” I cried.

  The old woman sighed. “Don’t say I never tried to help you, Son.”

  “I never say that, Mother.”

  She waved him off and transferred fish from the basket to her counter. She drew a huge knife and began cutting off their heads.

  I made a face as I watched for a moment.

  Darin was staring at me with a smile. “I don’t mean to offend, Vera, but you seem out of place here.”

  “What gave it away?” I said with a chuckle.

  “The silver hair. The expression.”

  I tucked my hair back—a few strands had fallen over my forehead. “Ah, yes. I try to keep that hidden.”

  Darin shrugged. “There are countless unscrupulous people in Cerophus. There’s no reason to hide your—”

  “I’m not unscrupulous, Vero,” I said quickly. I didn’t need a man putting words in my mouth. He could keep his opinion to himself.

  “Oh, my apologies.” He bowed stiffly.

  “Don’t mind him, dear,” Grandmother said. “You see why he’s still single? Stumbles all over his words.”

  Darin looked suddenly bashful and turned to help his mother load the fish on the counter.

  People walked all around us, kicking up clouds of grime and dirt, but no one seemed to mind. If anything, the crowds helped me blend in.

  I was already a sneaky person, but I figured I could use all this to my benefit.

  “Who are you looking for?” Grandmother asked unceremoniously.

  “W-What?” I stuttered. “How do you—”

  “A girl like you wouldn’t be in a place like this if you weren’t looking for someone specific. And your eyes keep darting around.”

  I frowned. “All due respect, Vera, but I’ve lived on the streets most of my life. I’d say this is exactly where a girl like me belongs.”

  “Fair enough.” That was the extent of her apology, and I was fine with it. Had Darin said all that, it might’ve been a different story. But older women had a way of saying whatever was on their minds, even if it was offensive, and I was okay with it. Alondra was much the same at the refuge.

  And, I mean . . . she was right.

  “Manek, he’s called,” I said. “But this city’s so big I doubt—”

  “Oh? What do you want with Shiny Manek?”

  My pulse spiked. I leaned conspiratorially under the canvas of their setup. “You know Manek?”

  “Of course, girl. Most of us do.”

  “How? And why is he called ‘Shiny’?”

  “Fake gold teeth, I reckon,” she said, chortling. “The sunlight reflects right off him.”

  Darin snorted. “Mother, you don’t need to feed the girl lies. We all know that’s not the only reason he’s called ‘Shiny,’ don’t we?”

  I eyed them both. “What are you talking about?” I turned to Grandmother, hoping she’d spill the tea.

  She flapped a hand at me. “Word is he makes his own Shine. But what do we know? We’re just poor fishmongers.” She winked at me.

  I raised a brow. “Shine . . . as in booze?”

  Grandmother put a finger over her lip in the universal sign for me to shut up. “Anyway,” she said, pointing in the distance, “he’s not too far up the road. When you get to the stinking tannery, that’s where you’ll find him, in a vomit-colored abode.”

  I tilted my head in confusion. “I thought you just said—”

  “He’s a tanner by trade,” Darin clarified. “The booze is a side gig.”

  “Ah. Well, I appreciate your help, both of you. If I’m ever around this way again—”

  “You probably won’t find us,” Darin said haughtily. Then he smiled at me. He was starting to annoy me. “We move around.”

  I got the feeling there was some innuendo there—that maybe he and ol’ ma were also part of something “unscrupulous” that Darin was hinting at.

  I didn’t have time or care enough to ask about it.

  “Thank you,” I said, then nodded to them.

  As I walked away, I heard Grandmother’s sullen, raspy voice chiding her son: “You really need to stop being such a snooty asshat, boy. You’re scaring away all the pretty girls.”

  I blushed and smiled, then pulled my hood tighter, ducked my head, and continued down the road.

  18

  Levia

  The house I stood in front of could definitely be described as “vomit-colored”—a pasty green and yellow that was peeling and gross. Then again, it didn’t stand out among all the other buildings around it; they all looked nearly dilapidated.

  For someone who reportedly brewed his own alcohol, I felt fitting in was definitely appropriate.

  I made my way across the street, keeping my head down. It was the hottest part of day with the sun high in the sky. The heat only worked to intensify the pungent odor of the tanning district: sickly, like rotting flesh, piss, and stagnant water.

  I nearly puked from the stench when I reached the house, not that it would have detracted from the décor much.

  I knocked on the door and it rattled noisily like it was about to fall off its hinges.

  “We’re closed,” announced a voice from the other side. It was hoarse and high-pitched, but certainly male.

  “It’s the middle of the day,” I called back. “Manek.”

  I heard grumbling and shuffling feet. “And who is it that vexes me on such a hot day?” He sounded closer.

  “My name is Levia Sunfall, Vero. I was sent by—”

  The door swung open and I nearly stumbled inside. “Hush, woman, are you trying to make me?” He peered left and right, then ushered me in.

  The man was short and fat with three chins and a sweaty, bald head. He seemed to either be overheating inside his stuffy abode, or scared of something, his jittery eyes darting all over.

  His most noticeable feature was his shining gold teeth, which made him obnoxious looking.

  Manek’s house looked like absolute shit—bottles and half-eaten plates all over, shelves and crates overturned. It looked like, well, a dragon had romped through.

  “What do you want?” he demanded, pacing near the front door. His edginess m
ade me nervous.

  I crossed my arms under my breasts. “Chief Garnu sent me.”

  “Ah, another bounty hunter. Great. Haven’t had many of your ilk around, though.” His words hinted at something as he studied me up and down.

  I suppressed a shudder while he eye-fucked me. “My ilk?”

  “Women.”

  “Oh.”

  “What does Garnu want?” He resumed his pacing, apparently having had his fill of wanton thoughts.

  I tilted my head. What an odd question. “If I’m not the first bounty hunter who’s been through here, then you know what he wants.”

  He flapped a pudgy hand at me. “I want to hear you say it. I like your voice.”

  I frowned. “I’m here for the dragonrune sword. Garnu said you’d have information regarding it.”

  “Well, he lied.”

  I twitched, my body tensing. That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. To have him say it so quickly and dismissively—

  “Bullshit,” I said. “I didn’t travel through woodlands and hills and prairies for days just to hear that.”

  “Too bad, girl. You can go now.”

  “No, I can’t,” I replied firmly, bracing myself for trouble. The man just wouldn’t cease pacing. “Will you stop, please, and talk to me? Maybe we started off on the wrong foot.”

  He finally spun toward me, standing in place but looking like he was about to flop over. He wobbled and I got a waft of stale liquor seeping out of his pores.

  “Yes, perhaps we shouldn’t be on our feet at all.” He flashed his golden teeth.

  I narrowed my brow. “What do you mean by that?”

  “I have an open bed. You have a need, I have a want.” He shrugged like it was the simplest thing in the world.

  I bristled, my shoulders tightening. “Listen here, you slimy bastard—”

  “Ah, there’s the spirit. Tell me more about how disgusting you think I am.”

  What the fuck? His glittering eyes confused me. His words stopped me short. “I, uh, what? Are you putting on this lewd, ugly front because I’m a woman? Is that it?”

  “Yes, lewd and ugly. Indeed. Not just any woman, are you? A strong, lithe, fit cun—”

 

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