Dragon Unbroken: A Reverse Harem Dragon Fantasy Romance (Spellbound Souls Book 2) Read online

  Dragon Unbroken

  Spellbound Souls Book Two

  Keira Blackwood

  Liza Street

  Contents

  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

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Also by Keira Blackwood

  Also by Liza Street

  Pierced: Chapter One

  Wild Homecoming: Chapter One

  About the Author

  About the Author

  Copyright © 2018 Keira Blackwood & Liza Street

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any actual persons, places, or events is coincidental. All characters in this story are at least 18 years of age or older.

  The cover utilizes stock images licensed by the author. The model(s) depicted have no connection to this work or any other work by the author.

  Chapter One

  Slade

  I focused on one foot in front of the other, like I was a new recruit and following orders. Left, left, left right left. If I let my mind wander too much, I was in major danger of falling back into the dreams I’d had last night.

  The hall was mostly quiet—not too many people here after the eight a.m. rush. The elevator was right in front of me, but I didn’t take it. Had to keep moving. One foot, then the other. I opted for the stairs instead.

  Stopping at the door to the stairwell was my first mistake. Each time I blinked, I saw flashes of Ariana naked. That alone would have been enough to make me pause. But I could also feel her slick heat surrounding my fingers as I thrust them inside her. Then I could see her, clear as anything, rocking up and down over my shaft. I could taste her kisses. I could smell the sweetness of apples, and the burnt scent of aether that clung to her.

  The problem was—I hadn’t done those things. At least, I hadn’t done them like they were happening in my head. I’d touched her, put my fingers inside her, kissed her. But she and I hadn’t made love yet.

  So why could I remember making love to her as if we’d done it last night?

  I blinked several times. The dream wasn’t why I needed to talk to Ariana. I needed to talk to her about something else—Vosovich had called. When an old Army buddy called, it was never good news. I dreaded those kinds of calls. They put me on edge. Our unit had seen action in Badinor, a tiny, camel-spider infested country not many people had heard of. Since we’d returned to the states, we’d only seen each other at funerals. We’d only talked when we had to.

  This call hadn’t been about Badinor, though.

  “It’s your dad,” he’d said.

  My dad was supposed to be dead. That’s what they told us, even if it never felt true.

  Vosovich was one of the few shifters I’d known in the service. He knew my father was a dragon shifter, like me. And he knew the military had told my ma and me that my dad was dead. There was some part of me that always knew he wasn’t. Part of me knew my father had abandoned me and my mom when I was just a kid.

  Vosovich had to know exactly how I’d feel about the news.

  Just the same, he’d said, “Your dad’s alive.”

  My dad wasn’t alive. Nope. Even if the man I’d looked up to as a kid was alive, he’d given up the right to be called my dad a long time ago. He gave it up when he left and never came back.

  “Look, I know you two aren’t close,” Vosovich had said. “But he’s in some messed up shit, and they’re gonna kill him, no doubt about it.”

  “They’d have to catch him first,” I’d said.

  I hadn’t asked what he was up to. I hadn’t cared. But Vosovich told me anyway.

  “It’s this thing the Allencloth pack is after,” Vosovich said. “Your old man has it, whatever it is.”

  Not my concern, I told myself. I’d said it again when I got off the phone. As I walked up to see Ariana, I repeated it a third time. “Not my concern.”

  But it was. The old man was flesh and blood. I didn’t like him. Didn’t have any need for him. But that didn’t mean he needed to die.

  Vosovich hadn’t had any more information. Just that the Allencloth Clan was involved. As I walked up the stairs, I realized something. I didn’t have enough details. What did I want Ariana to do about this? It wasn’t her job, and I didn’t want to worry her if it turned out to be nothing.

  I’d tell her about the call, I decided. She should know.

  I’d have to tell my mom, too. It would crush her. I couldn’t do that, not over the phone. I’d wait until I saw her in person to tell her.

  I got to the top of the stairwell and opened the door to Ariana’s hallway. On one side was the elevator, and on the other, the door to her penthouse. I heard a click as it opened, and I froze.

  I felt like I was kissing Ariana. Even now, as I stood alone. I could feel her lips on mine, feel her hands clutching my shoulders. I breathed her in and crowded her against the edge of the doorframe. Apple pie, warm and comforting.

  “Slade?”

  I looked up, surprised. Taylor stood there, holding Ariana. Her beautiful brown eyes were wide with surprise, and she wasn’t wearing a stitch of clothing.

  She was breathtaking. All other thoughts flew out of my head as I took in her full, rounded breasts and those long, lean legs. I wanted to kiss my way up to her thighs, hold their smoothness against my palms.

  “I’ll just...uh, I’ll just get dressed,” she said quickly. “Be right with you, Slade. Bye, Taylor.” She darted out from under his arm.

  He stepped into the hallway and let the door shut. I didn’t have to be a sharp-eyed shifter to notice his troubled expression. His eyebrows were squished up the way they looked when something was bothering him.

  “Everything okay?” I asked.

  “Better than okay,” he said.

  I knew he wasn’t lying, but he also wasn’t telling the truth. Something was off. “What’s bugging you?”

  He shook his head.

  “Is she all right?” My voice was sharper than I intended it. “Did you hurt her?”

  “No, fuck no,” he said. “She’s good. She’s happy. Go on in, and you’ll see for yourself.”

  I could stand there and grill him, or I could do what he said and see for myself. I liked the second option. It meant seeing Ariana.

  When I walked past him, I could still sense that he was unhappy about somethi
ng. He was a fool. If he’d just spent the night with our Ariana, he had no reason to be unhappy.

  A steady stream of images filled my head again. What the heck was going on with me? My hands were on Ariana’s hips, guiding her over me…

  “You okay?” Taylor stood next to the elevator, looking over his shoulder.

  “Yep.” I turned back to Ariana’s door. If he was going to hide his feelings, I could, too.

  Ariana’s door wasn’t latched all the way, so I knocked. I didn’t wait for a response before opening it.

  “Hello?” she called.

  She was in the kitchen. I followed the sound of her voice through the living room and stopped in the doorframe. Her back was to me as she stood by the counter. The warm scent of fresh coffee filled the air.

  I glanced around, from the glass-fronted cabinets to the stainless-steel fridge. This was where I’d first touched her. Where she’d touched me.

  “Hey,” I said.

  “Slade.” She turned around with a smile on her face. “Sorry you had to see, you know…”

  She had on a pair of exercise pants, topped with a loose white tank top that showed her purple sports bra when she moved around the kitchen. She looked comfy and huggable. And her legs looked long and shapely in those tight leggings.

  “You’re sorry I had to see you kissing Taylor?” I asked. “Don’t be. It was hot.”

  A light pink blush tinged her cheeks. I liked that, too. “Do you want some coffee?”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I’ll take tea, if you have it. Nothing with caffeine.”

  “Sure, I have some.” She paused, her hands over the dials on the stove. She cocked her head to the side and stared at me. “What’s going on?”

  The words stopped in my throat. What information did I have to share? Nothing. Just that one of my buddies heard something about my dad. It wasn’t even worth discussing, because I didn’t have anything real to say. It felt even less important now that I was here, with her.

  “Nothing much,” I finally said. “Some weird thing about my old man.”

  Her eyes met mine over the kitchen island. “Anything we should be concerned about?”

  I shook my head. “Nah. My mama taught me not to gossip, and I think that’s all this is. If I hear any different, I’ll let you know.”

  She set down her coffee mug and came around the counter. She smelled like her apple-y dragon scents, but she also smelled like Taylor. It didn’t bother me in the slightest. I pulled her into my arms, enjoying the way she arched her back, pressing into my chest.

  I looked into her eyes. She looked sated, but desire was beginning to kindle in her again. I could tell from the way she smelled—eager, sweet. She’d taste so good. And her pupils were dilating.

  She blinked quickly, breaking the spell.

  “You always this insatiable?” I asked.

  Her mouth opened in surprise and a rosy blush colored her cheeks. “What?”

  Had I embarrassed her? I hadn’t meant to.

  “It’s not a bad thing,” I said. “Just, you spent the night with Taylor. You look like a woman who’s been pleased.” If there was any truth to what I’d imagined, she’d been pleased several times. “But now...well, we can both feel this now.”

  She looked up at me through her long eyelashes. “Yeah, we can.”

  I titled my head down and stole a kiss. She tasted like coffee, and her lips were so soft, so sweet.

  The kettle whistled, and she pulled back.

  “I should…” She nodded her head toward the stove.

  “Of course,” I said, and let her go. The feel of her in my arms stayed with me. I could never get enough.

  She went back to the stove and poured water into a mug. She passed me a tin filled with different kinds of tea. I flipped through, found something minty.

  Now that we weren’t staring at each other like we were going to jump into bed, I noticed something was a little off with her, too.

  “Did something bad happen between you and Taylor?” I asked.

  Her gaze was sharp. “Let’s go into the living room.”

  Taylor wouldn’t have done something wrong on purpose, but something had happened, I could tell. Heck, I felt regretful about it, and I didn’t even know what it was.

  I watched her in front of me, the way her hair, caught up in a ponytail, bounced with each of her steps.

  She curled up on one corner of the couch, so I took the other. The fabric was bluish gray, and stiff. The cushions were big, and not worn in enough yet. It wasn’t as comfortable as the green couches back in the suite I shared with the guys, but it would work for now.

  “So?” I asked, taking a sip of my tea.

  “So, what?” A cross look marred her face, a little wrinkle there on her forehead.

  “Come on, Ariana. You can talk to me. Taylor looked weird, and you seem a little off.”

  “Not off. Just concerned,” she said. “He looked weird to you, too?”

  “Come here,” I said, setting my mug on the coffee table.

  She set her coffee down before scooting over and sitting next to me. I wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer so her head rested on my chest. She sighed and brought up her legs under her.

  “I don’t know if he had a bad dream or what,” she whispered. “The worst part is he didn’t say anything to me. It was like something spooked him. I know everything was great between us. Magical, even.”

  I nodded and made a hmm sound, so she’d know I was listening.

  “But when he left, I could see something was different. He looked...haunted. But he smiled and I could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. But shouldn’t he want to talk to me about it? I mean, the way we feel about each other…”

  “You love each other,” I said.

  She nodded.

  “I don’t think you need to worry,” I said, enjoying the feel of her relaxing against me. “Honest. You know I wouldn’t lie to you, ever. Taylor loves you. Whatever spooked him, he’ll get over it.”

  She nodded, her head nestled close. I bent forward to kiss her hair, and settled in. Ariana needed a good cuddle session, and I was just the man for the job.

  I was happier than ever that I’d tabled any discussion about my old man. He had no place in my morning. No place in this penthouse. No place in my life.

  Chapter Two

  Quentin

  Delicate carpet fibers tickled the soles of my feet, while the pad beneath gave to their weight. I had never been much for forgoing footwear, but over the course of our month together I’d found myself adjusting to, and inevitably adopting, the habits of my roommates.

  Mountainous in physique, spry in agility, and gentle in demeanor, Slade only appeared the stereotype his name implied. He was deeper than that, both thoughtful and caring. I was still surprised that he had successfully enticed me to join him in his fantasy video game. Before I’d encountered his hideous furniture and unquestionable charm, I’d never seen the appeal in such ventures.

  Of our trio it was Taylor, the poet, who had affected me the most. He dressed as a college professor and wore an easy smile. He rounded us out, a middle ground between Slade and me—our heart. Knowing him was like knowing a piece of myself that I hadn’t realized I was missing. He was our empathy, the one who knew just what to say when Slade and I were left at a loss.

  Sitting alone at our small dining table, I found the silence inadequate—another notable change. Solitude had always been comfortable. I had considered my ability to maintain distance from others a strength, essential to survival in the business world.

  I had changed.

  I scooped a fork of roasted peppers and potatoes into my mouth. The flavors melded perfectly with the rosemary cream sauce. Perhaps I should have prepared less breakfast, given I was the only one here to enjoy it. Then again, Slade devoured leftovers.

  More than missing the company of Slade and Taylor, I craved contact with Ariana. Not for the first time, I’d dreamed of her gorgeo
us naked form. As time passed, the dreams were growing more vivid.

  I could still feel her fingers on my bare chest, taste her sweet lips on my tongue, feel the tightness of her as I buried myself between her thighs.

  Remembering the dream made my cock hard, as it had been increasingly often as of late. I had to see her. I had to touch her.

  Our date had been derailed, and my hunger for her had not been satiated. Given the way I was drawn to her, I doubted it ever would be.

  I took another bite of my breakfast and waited. I wouldn’t interrupt her time with Taylor, for surely that was the cause of my dreams. He had left Hiber-Nation early with her. Perhaps my imaginings of their evening had combined with my frustration and created the vivid dreams.

  When Taylor returned, I would reach out to Ariana and ask to reschedule our date.

  A gentle vibration tickled my thigh. I reached into my pocket for my phone and checked the screen. It wasn’t one of the people I could ignore; it was Chad Curtis.

  Tightness crossed my chest. My first instinct was to hurl the phone across the room, or better yet, off the balcony. A forty-eight-floor drop would be adequate. But worse than my current predicament would be the consequences of ignoring Chad Curtis.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Mr. Phillips.” His voice was cold steel. I could picture his expression, the hard look of a man whose ruthlessness simmered just beneath the surface. I’d seen it a thousand times—just before the swing of the hammer, just before the screaming.