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Synopsis
For centuries, the Dragon Kings have lived among mortals, forsaking their true selves. But for Kelton, hiding in the realm of shadows—and existing only in the world of dreams—is no longer an option. A human woman claims to know that he, like other dark warriors of his kind, is real. That the legends about these powerful, seductive men with hearts ablaze are true. And that, with just one embrace, Kelton could destroy her...or love her until the end of time.
Bernadette Davies is an anthropologist who knows better than to fall into the arms of a Dragon King. But how can she resist Kelton when he's so willing to share his secrets and bare his soul? He hasn't met a beautiful, trustworthy woman like Bernadette in...forever. But once they give into their mutual desire, their worlds will never be the same. Soon, Bernadette must face her dilemma: Should she expose the truth about Kelton in the name of science? Or join him in his battle with the dark forces—in the name of love?
Contains mature themes.
Release date: October 29, 2019
Publisher: St. Martin's Publishing Group
Print pages: 1
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Fever
Donna Grant
CHAPTER ONE
Glasgow May
“Dragons are real.”
The words went through the small room of the restaurant reserved for special meetings like a pistol shot. Today’s meeting was of the local cryptozoologists.
Keltan wanted to be anywhere but there. Yet Ulrik had sent him halfway across Scotland to hear whatever Dr. Bernadette Davies had to say in her highly publicized talk about dragons.
Keltan was shocked at the sight of her. He’d expected some older woman in her sixties with gray hair, glasses, and at least two chins. Instead, he was met with a vision that actually had his mouth hanging open. Straight black hair parted on one side fell just past her chin and brought attention to her incredible cheekbones. Her large, jade eyes met everyone’s gaze with determination and calmness that proclaimed that she wholly believed everything she was going to talk about.
Her hunter-green button-down shirt was billowy yet molded tantalizingly to her breasts. And the black pants her shirt was tucked into made Keltan’s mouth water when he caught a glimpse of her perfect derriere.
Keltan had to bite back a groan when he saw the black stilettos on her feet. He’d always been a sucker for women who wore heels.
But it was the first three words out of her mouth that made him sit up straight and pay attention. A jolt of dread and worry went through him so quickly that his stomach roiled viciously.
“As cryptozoologists, we work tirelessly to prove that such creatures exist,” Bernadette continued. “Many of you know for certain that particular creatures you believe in are real. For me, it’s dragons.”
“Do you have proof?” someone asked.
Keltan didn’t look in the direction of the voice. He kept his gaze locked on Dr. Davies. Now, he wished he hadn’t chosen a seat toward the back. If he’d sat closer, he wouldn’t have had to look around the various heads to keep her in view as she walked back and forth.
There was no doubt about the confidence she exhibited. And while there was a chance that she was one of the few off her rocker, Keltan didn’t think that was the case. As a Dragon King, he and his brethren at Dreagan had gone to great lengths to hide their true selves from humans.
But a few years ago, the Dark Fae had taken a video of the Dragon Kings in a skirmish with them. The Dark released the footage to the world, and speculation about dragons soared overnight—and it had yet to diminish.
Now, humans looked at the sky constantly, making it harder and harder for the Kings to shift, even on the sixty thousand acres of Dreagan where they lived. On an almost weekly basis, the magical barrier surrounding the lands stopped numerous drones sent by mortals trying to see if Dreagan was the home of dragons.
It made all of the Kings wonder if it had been wise to choose the double dragon as their logo, or the Celtic word for dragon as the name of their whisky.
Ryder, the King who could create and work with anything electronic, used his hacking skills to wipe the video from everything and everywhere. Yet the curiosity of the humans had been woken. They wanted answers.
Which was why Keltan was at this meeting.
He’d thought it a joke and a waste of time. Obviously, Ulrik had been right to send him.
“Fuck,” he mumbled beneath his breath.
Dr. Davies smiled. And for the first time, Keltan realized that she wore a nude color on her full lips. There was something in her smile and the way she held her head that sent a chill of foreboding down his spine.
Instead of responding, she merely smiled in response.
A murmur of shock went through the group of twenty-five people as they all assumed her smile meant she did, indeed, have proof.
Keltan opened the mental link all the Dragon Kings shared and said Ulrik’s name, followed by Ryder’s. Both answered him immediately.
“We have a problem,” Keltan said.
Ulrik sighed. “Damn. Does the woman know something?”
“Aye, but I doona know what yet.” Keltan studied her as she returned to the center of the room without sharing the proof she claimed to have. “Ryder, I need everything there is on Bernadette Davies.”
“Kinsey and I’ll do a deep dive on her immediately. You’ll have something shortly,” Ryder promised.
Ulrik then asked, “Has she shown you anything about us?”
“No’ yet,” Keltan answered. “She did allude to some proof she had, but she’s no’ said what it is.”
“Yet,” Ryder added.
Keltan grunted because he’d thought the same thing. “She’s verra confident. It’s no’ just speculation she’s peddling. Her first words were that dragons are real.”
“Keep me informed,” Ulrik stated.
Keltan severed the link. Ulrik was running the shots at Dreagan at the moment. Not that any of the other Kings wanted the responsibility. After Constantine, King of the Dragon Kings had been taken by Usaeil, Queen of the Light just as the Kings were about to go to war with her, things got … tense at Dreagan.
And now this.
Keltan ran a hand down his face. They didn’t need this. They should be concentrating on locating Con, not chasing after some mortal who might or might not have information on the Dragon Kings.
And, frankly, Keltan didn’t care if Dr. Davies did. The Kings had walked and lived among the humans for millions of years, forsaking their true selves and the fact that they had once ruled this realm. Maybe it was time for the Kings to stop hiding.
As soon as that thought went through his head, Keltan knew it would never happen. The proof was in the brief time that dragons and mortals had attempted to live together. It had ended with the Kings sending their dragons to another realm and hiding away for millennia.
All because of a vow to protect the mortals without magic.
When, in fact, the dragons could have wiped them from the Earth in minutes.
But they weren’t murderers. They had tried to make it work with the humans, conceding land again and again and again as the mortals bred like bunnies.
For a long time, Keltan had hated them. Con’s spell to stop the Kings from feeling hate—or love—for the mortals had helped to quell much of his anger. Now, Keltan just wanted his life back. He didn’t care if the humans were there or not.
He wanted to fly during the day, feel the sun on his scales, and survey the world from the clouds for however long he wished.
He wanted to let out a roar without having to wait for a thunderstorm to mask the sound.
He wanted to be able to choose when and where he shifted instead of only doing it at Dreagan at night.
With an inward shake of his head, he ground his thoughts to a halt and returned his focus to Bernadette Davies. She was pointing at a projection screen that displayed a picture of Fair Isle.
“Some of you may not know, that not long ago some bones were found in one of the many caves of Fair Isle. An American archeologist, Faith Reynolds, claimed that they were dragon bones. Oddly enough, Faith hasn’t been seen since that declaration.”
A man to Keltan’s left said, “Are you saying that someone silenced her?”
Bernadette shrugged. “I’m saying that I couldn’t locate Ms. Reynolds in order to speak to her. When I dug deeper, the prominent and up-and-coming archeologist appears to have disappeared.”
That wasn’t true, but Keltan couldn’t point that out. If he did, everyone—including Dr. Davies—would want to know how he knew such a thing. And right now, he didn’t want any attention on himself. He was there to observe and take notes.
“What about the video?” a woman in her mid-twenties asked from the front row. “Is that your proof?”
A ghost of a smile flitted across Bernadette’s face. “For those who didn’t get a chance to see it, the young woman is referring to the video that surfaced a couple of years ago that showed men shifting into dragons and fighting other beings with red eyes.”
“There was magic,” the young woman said.
Dr. Davies nodded as she glanced in the girl’s direction. “That there was. Within days of the video going viral, it was wiped from the internet.”
“That isn’t possible,” a man in his fifties with a heavy French accent stated.
The young woman turned around and met the Frenchman’s gaze. “It’s true. It’s gone. You can’t find it anywhere.”
Another man with an English accent snorted loudly. “I agree with him. Once something is released on the internet, it’s in the cloud. And once it’s there, you can’t get anything back.”
Keltan hid his grin because there was one person who could get it back or remove it entirely—Ryder.
Before the argument could continue, Bernadette quickly interjected, “We could debate this all night long. And while it’s fascinating, that’s not what I came to talk about. Though it is part of the story.”
Bernadette clicked something in her hand, and the picture of Fair Isle vanished, replaced with a list that made Keltan clench his teeth together.
“Here are all the things that involve dragons.”
Keltan read the list.
The video of dragons appearing, then disappearingThe dragon bones on Fair IsleArcheologist Faith Reynolds disappearingNo big deal. Dr. Davies had already mentioned all three.
Then Keltan read more of the list.
Bernadette touched on each one, adding dialogue next to the names. “Number 4: Known members of a mob go missing near Dreagan. Number 5: Kyle Ross goes missing only to be heard telling someone that he was going to find his sister who worked for Dreagan, then Kyle goes missing. Number 6: Renowned journalist Rachel Marek goes to Paris to cover the World Whisky Consortium and is seen with a representative from Dreagan—and has only released one new piece since then. And that piece was about Kyvor.”
“Kyvor is no longer in business,” someone said.
Dr. Davies nodded slowly. “No, they aren’t. After a little digging on my part, apparently, the higher-ups in the company were interested in buying out Dreagan Industries.”
Keltan wanted to stand up and tell everyone the truth about each of the points. He had to clench his hands into fists just to remain seated.
Based on everything Bernadette was laying out, anyone in the room who hadn’t believed was slowly coming to her way of thinking. And by the smile on her face, that’s exactly what she intended.
The question was why? What did she gain by all of this? What was her motive?
She continued down the list with a mention of how Dr. Sophie Martin had left her position at an Edinburgh hospital to open a practice near Dreagan. It was no surprise to Keltan when Bernadette cited the socialite Alexandra Sheridan and the Scotsman she had been photographed with in New York, only now to be seen near Dreagan.
Thank goodness Bernadette didn’t know about all the others. As it was, there was a serious case for anyone to take an interest in Dreagan on a level that would keep Ryder and his mate, Kinsey, extra busy.
For the next two hours, Keltan was one of the few who didn’t say anything as the room debated Dr. Davies’ list, adding their own thoughts and conjecture.
Bernadette answered question after question but never revealed any of her sources. And while it appeared those sources weren’t always accurate, they came close enough to make Keltan aware that someone knew the secrets of the Dragon Kings.
The problem would be discovering who it was—and silencing them.
CHAPTER TWO
It had gone better than she could’ve hoped. So much better. Then again, how could anyone not want to know about dragons? Bernadette said good-bye to the last person leaving the room and packed up her papers and laptop. The talk was only supposed to last two hours, and yet she’d talked for five.
The entire evening had exceeded anything she’d dared to hope for. Finally, it seemed as though others might actually begin to pay attention to the things she had to say about those at Dreagan—especially since she knew the truth.
She hadn’t had to explain if she had proof or not, and she was thankful since she couldn’t exactly show it. Everyone had been immersed in the discussion and the links that she had found between the various women and Dreagan.
But she knew she would have to show the proof eventually. She’d brought the dragon scale for just that. And yet she didn’t want to share it. It had been something she’d kept to herself for nearly a year now. To show it to others would almost be like sharing a secret part of herself.
A part that had kept her going during the long months when her fellow anthropology colleagues thought she’d lost her mind. Though she supposed she’d feel the same thing about someone who, after a decade as an anthropologist, had decided to become a cryptozoologist.
Not that she’d had a choice. As soon as she’d seen the dragon, she’d been unable to look away.
Or think of anything else.
For weeks after, she’d stared at everyone around her, wondering how they couldn’t know of the magical beings that lived among them. It boggled her mind that so many went about their lives as if they were the only creatures on Earth.
She, however, knew differently. Her glimpse of the dragon had opened up an entire world to her. It was also how she’d discovered the Fae.
Bernadette pulled her keys from her purse as she looped the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.
The moment she walked from the back room into the restaurant and was assaulted by the various delicious smells, she decided to eat there. It was a splurge that she couldn’t really afford, but she was going to do it anyway. It was her gift to herself for carrying out such a fabulous evening.
Bernadette set her bag and purse on the chair next to her as a waiter handed her a menu. Her mouth watered as she looked at all the options. Everything sounded good, which made choosing difficult. Then she looked at the prices and barely hid her wince.
The food wasn’t extremely expensive, but since she was now down to part-time at the museum so she could focus on her research about dragons, her income had taken a beating.
“Excuse me, madam. This is for you.”
She looked up as the waiter set a glass of whisky on the table. “Um … I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this.”
“It’s from the gentleman at the bar,” he told her and motioned to his right.
Bernadette leaned around the waiter, her gaze latching on to the bearded man who lifted a small tumbler filled with amber liquid in her direction.
The waiter then said, “The gentleman said you should give it a try. It’s the best Scotch in the world. And, frankly, I have to agree with him.”
Bernadette swallowed hard as her gaze swung back to the glass before her. “What brand is it?”
She knew the answer before the waiter said, “Dreagan.”
She closed the menu and set it before her as her heart hammered in her chest. The man at the bar was from Dreagan. She knew it with the same certainty that she knew dragons were real. There was no running from him. She’d known that someone from Dreagan would contact her sooner or later.
She just hadn’t expected it to be in person.
Bernadette had never run away from anything in her life. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. There was that incident when she was seven, but did that really count?
She squared her shoulders and looked back at the man at the bar. She took in his dark blond locks that were combed away from his face and fastened in a queue at the back of his neck. His gaze was still locked on her.
While she couldn’t discern the color of his eyes, there was little doubt that he expected her to ignore him. The slight widening of his eyes when she waved him over had her giving herself a little pat on the back—albeit with a shaking hand. She might be sitting with a straight spine, but it would be foolish to not be at least a little anxious.
Her gaze didn’t waver from him as he casually stood from the barstool. He was tall—taller than expected. And the fact that he carried himself with certainty had her anxiety skyrocketing with a vengeance.
The waiter wisely walked away before the man approached. Bernadette shoved her hair back from her face and tried not to fiddle with her hands—a nervous habit she had yet to break.
“Good evening.”
Damn. His voice was as smooth and rich as velvet. It had just the right amount of husky timbre that made bumps rise on her flesh.
She had been raised along Scotland’s border with England, so it wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard a Scots brogue before, but there was something unique about his. Something wild and untamed that made every nerve ending in her body stand up and take notice.
To her delight, her voice came out strong and clear when she gave him a nod of greeting and said, “Good evening. Please, join me.” She motioned to the chair opposite her.
He pulled out the seat and lowered himself into it before his eyes met hers once more.
“Thank you for the drink,” she continued. “Why do you believe that I’ve not drunk whisky before?”
Instead of answering, he asked, “Have you?”
“No.” Damn him. She should’ve guessed that he’d come back with such a comment.
“Try it,” he urged.
“I’m not much of a drinker. I’ll occasionally have a glass of wine, but that’s it.”
The man shrugged one shoulder. “Please, doona feel as if you have to drink it.”
Well, now she wanted to more than ever. “It’s always good to try new things, right?”
One side of his mouth kicked up in a grin. Bernadette spotted even, white teeth. His eyes were the color of amber, and they blazed with a fire that mesmerized her and made her breath catch in her throat.
Her stomach clenched as she continued staring into his beautiful eyes. Finally, she lifted the glass to her lips, but just before she took a drink, he stopped her.
“Smell it first,” he urged. “Let the flavors of the whisky invade your nose before they hit your tongue.”
The way he’d said it made it sound so … sensual. As if they were about to do something sexual, not drink Scotch. She swallowed and inhaled the scent of the whisky as he’d advised.
To her shock, she quite liked it. It was nutty, and she could definitely smell the peat moss used. But there was something else she recognized yet couldn’t quite name.
She looked at him over the rim of the glass. Their eyes met and held. She sat there surrounded by the smell of whisky and the presence of a man that set her on edge and made the air around them fairly crackle.
“Now, drink,” he told her in a soft voice.
Without hesitation, she let the liquid touch her tongue, and her mouth exploded with flavor. She tasted the peat moss and the nuttiness she’d smelled, but she also noticed a smokiness. The Scotch was heavy and bold. It burned slightly as it went down her throat and settled into her stomach, but she went back for another sip.
The man’s smile was slow, his gaze stating that he’d known she would like it. Bernadette licked the whisky from her lips as she set the glass on the table.
“Are you ready to order, madam?” the waiter asked as he walked up, seemingly out of nowhere.
She’d forgotten all about being hungry. Bernadette opened the menu again and quickly scanned the items, looking for something that was reasonably priced.
“The smoked salmon is particularly good,” the man said.
Salmon was one of her favorite dishes. She hadn’t had it in months. It sounded so good that she didn’t even look at the price. “I’ll have that,” she told the waiter.
The man then turned to her table companion, who waved him off.
Once they were alone again, Bernadette leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I would introduce myself, but I believe you already know who I am.”
“I do.”
She liked that he hadn’t tried to lie. She’d give him props for that, at least. Bernadette raised a brow, waiting for him to offer his name.
He chuckled and said, “I’m Keltan Dreagan, but you already knew I was from Dreagan.”
“I did,” she confessed. Bernadette wracked her brain, trying to remember if he’d been in her lecture, but she couldn’t place seeing him. Not that she paid attention to every face—something she would need to change.
“I came to hear your talk.”
She let out a sigh. “I see. For one of you to come, those at Dreagan must be worried about what I’m going to say.”
His lips twisted as he lifted a shoulder. “Every business has an interest when they learn someone is telling wild tales about them.”
“But they aren’t so wild. They’re the truth.”
“You believe you know the truth?” he asked, a blond brow arched.
There was something in his words that gave Bernadette pause, yet she found herself saying “Yes.”
“Hmm,” he said as he took a swallow of his whisky. “You have quite a few theories, Dr. Davies.”
“Are you here to tell me I’m wrong?”
“As I said, I came to listen to what you had to say.”
She laughed and reached for the Scotch once more. “And the drink?”
“No’ something I intended, but I doona regret it.”
“Despite everything I said about Dreagan?”
He glanced at his hands that rested in his lap, one large one holding the tumbler. “I was curious about you.” His lids lifted, and amber eyes caught hers.
“Curious?” she repeated, a little thrill running through her that she didn’t understand or expect.
“Something must have happened that turned your focus to Dreagan.”
“And you want to know what that was,” she said with a smirk.
Keltan shook his head. “Dig into Dreagan Industries all you like. We give substantial sums to various charities around the globe. You’ll no’ find anyone in our company who’s been arrested or given so much as a speeding ticket.”
“That’s just it, Mr. Dreagan. You and everyone at your company are squeaky clean. Too clean, in fact.”
He chuckled and sat up in his chair, bracing his forearms on the table. “Are you honestly telling me that the fact we’re no’ breaking the law and do right by others means we’re a target? Lass, there are plenty of other people for you to go after. Throw a stone, you’ll hit one.”
“So, you’re not a dragon.”
Her words stopped him in mid-rise from his chair. He slowly lowered himself back down and leaned close to her. “Do you know how daft you sound?”
“I don’t care.”
“You should. I dug into you, Dr. Davies. You had a stellar career, one that only a fool would throw away so nonchalantly. You were respected, and with just a few printed words from your first post about dragons, you lost that respect.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice since she saw others in the restaurant staring at them. “I don’t care what others think.”
“That’s shite,” he stated, no heat in his words.
She ignored him and continued, “If you knew something was true, that something extraordinary was real, would you keep it to yourself? Or would you tell the world?”
“I doona know what proof you think you have, but there is no such thing as dragons. They’re nothing but mythological creatures.”
“Then why do you have them on your logo? Dreagan is Gaelic for dragon.”
Keltan shrugged and shook his head. “Dragons, griffons, and a host of other mythological creatures have been used for eons as logos and on family crests. Why does anyone choose such a logo? You’re reading far too much into this, I’m sorry to say.” With a nod, he stood. “Goodnight, Dr. Davies.”
She could only watch as he walked away.
Copyright © 2019 by Donna Grant
Glasgow May
“Dragons are real.”
The words went through the small room of the restaurant reserved for special meetings like a pistol shot. Today’s meeting was of the local cryptozoologists.
Keltan wanted to be anywhere but there. Yet Ulrik had sent him halfway across Scotland to hear whatever Dr. Bernadette Davies had to say in her highly publicized talk about dragons.
Keltan was shocked at the sight of her. He’d expected some older woman in her sixties with gray hair, glasses, and at least two chins. Instead, he was met with a vision that actually had his mouth hanging open. Straight black hair parted on one side fell just past her chin and brought attention to her incredible cheekbones. Her large, jade eyes met everyone’s gaze with determination and calmness that proclaimed that she wholly believed everything she was going to talk about.
Her hunter-green button-down shirt was billowy yet molded tantalizingly to her breasts. And the black pants her shirt was tucked into made Keltan’s mouth water when he caught a glimpse of her perfect derriere.
Keltan had to bite back a groan when he saw the black stilettos on her feet. He’d always been a sucker for women who wore heels.
But it was the first three words out of her mouth that made him sit up straight and pay attention. A jolt of dread and worry went through him so quickly that his stomach roiled viciously.
“As cryptozoologists, we work tirelessly to prove that such creatures exist,” Bernadette continued. “Many of you know for certain that particular creatures you believe in are real. For me, it’s dragons.”
“Do you have proof?” someone asked.
Keltan didn’t look in the direction of the voice. He kept his gaze locked on Dr. Davies. Now, he wished he hadn’t chosen a seat toward the back. If he’d sat closer, he wouldn’t have had to look around the various heads to keep her in view as she walked back and forth.
There was no doubt about the confidence she exhibited. And while there was a chance that she was one of the few off her rocker, Keltan didn’t think that was the case. As a Dragon King, he and his brethren at Dreagan had gone to great lengths to hide their true selves from humans.
But a few years ago, the Dark Fae had taken a video of the Dragon Kings in a skirmish with them. The Dark released the footage to the world, and speculation about dragons soared overnight—and it had yet to diminish.
Now, humans looked at the sky constantly, making it harder and harder for the Kings to shift, even on the sixty thousand acres of Dreagan where they lived. On an almost weekly basis, the magical barrier surrounding the lands stopped numerous drones sent by mortals trying to see if Dreagan was the home of dragons.
It made all of the Kings wonder if it had been wise to choose the double dragon as their logo, or the Celtic word for dragon as the name of their whisky.
Ryder, the King who could create and work with anything electronic, used his hacking skills to wipe the video from everything and everywhere. Yet the curiosity of the humans had been woken. They wanted answers.
Which was why Keltan was at this meeting.
He’d thought it a joke and a waste of time. Obviously, Ulrik had been right to send him.
“Fuck,” he mumbled beneath his breath.
Dr. Davies smiled. And for the first time, Keltan realized that she wore a nude color on her full lips. There was something in her smile and the way she held her head that sent a chill of foreboding down his spine.
Instead of responding, she merely smiled in response.
A murmur of shock went through the group of twenty-five people as they all assumed her smile meant she did, indeed, have proof.
Keltan opened the mental link all the Dragon Kings shared and said Ulrik’s name, followed by Ryder’s. Both answered him immediately.
“We have a problem,” Keltan said.
Ulrik sighed. “Damn. Does the woman know something?”
“Aye, but I doona know what yet.” Keltan studied her as she returned to the center of the room without sharing the proof she claimed to have. “Ryder, I need everything there is on Bernadette Davies.”
“Kinsey and I’ll do a deep dive on her immediately. You’ll have something shortly,” Ryder promised.
Ulrik then asked, “Has she shown you anything about us?”
“No’ yet,” Keltan answered. “She did allude to some proof she had, but she’s no’ said what it is.”
“Yet,” Ryder added.
Keltan grunted because he’d thought the same thing. “She’s verra confident. It’s no’ just speculation she’s peddling. Her first words were that dragons are real.”
“Keep me informed,” Ulrik stated.
Keltan severed the link. Ulrik was running the shots at Dreagan at the moment. Not that any of the other Kings wanted the responsibility. After Constantine, King of the Dragon Kings had been taken by Usaeil, Queen of the Light just as the Kings were about to go to war with her, things got … tense at Dreagan.
And now this.
Keltan ran a hand down his face. They didn’t need this. They should be concentrating on locating Con, not chasing after some mortal who might or might not have information on the Dragon Kings.
And, frankly, Keltan didn’t care if Dr. Davies did. The Kings had walked and lived among the humans for millions of years, forsaking their true selves and the fact that they had once ruled this realm. Maybe it was time for the Kings to stop hiding.
As soon as that thought went through his head, Keltan knew it would never happen. The proof was in the brief time that dragons and mortals had attempted to live together. It had ended with the Kings sending their dragons to another realm and hiding away for millennia.
All because of a vow to protect the mortals without magic.
When, in fact, the dragons could have wiped them from the Earth in minutes.
But they weren’t murderers. They had tried to make it work with the humans, conceding land again and again and again as the mortals bred like bunnies.
For a long time, Keltan had hated them. Con’s spell to stop the Kings from feeling hate—or love—for the mortals had helped to quell much of his anger. Now, Keltan just wanted his life back. He didn’t care if the humans were there or not.
He wanted to fly during the day, feel the sun on his scales, and survey the world from the clouds for however long he wished.
He wanted to let out a roar without having to wait for a thunderstorm to mask the sound.
He wanted to be able to choose when and where he shifted instead of only doing it at Dreagan at night.
With an inward shake of his head, he ground his thoughts to a halt and returned his focus to Bernadette Davies. She was pointing at a projection screen that displayed a picture of Fair Isle.
“Some of you may not know, that not long ago some bones were found in one of the many caves of Fair Isle. An American archeologist, Faith Reynolds, claimed that they were dragon bones. Oddly enough, Faith hasn’t been seen since that declaration.”
A man to Keltan’s left said, “Are you saying that someone silenced her?”
Bernadette shrugged. “I’m saying that I couldn’t locate Ms. Reynolds in order to speak to her. When I dug deeper, the prominent and up-and-coming archeologist appears to have disappeared.”
That wasn’t true, but Keltan couldn’t point that out. If he did, everyone—including Dr. Davies—would want to know how he knew such a thing. And right now, he didn’t want any attention on himself. He was there to observe and take notes.
“What about the video?” a woman in her mid-twenties asked from the front row. “Is that your proof?”
A ghost of a smile flitted across Bernadette’s face. “For those who didn’t get a chance to see it, the young woman is referring to the video that surfaced a couple of years ago that showed men shifting into dragons and fighting other beings with red eyes.”
“There was magic,” the young woman said.
Dr. Davies nodded as she glanced in the girl’s direction. “That there was. Within days of the video going viral, it was wiped from the internet.”
“That isn’t possible,” a man in his fifties with a heavy French accent stated.
The young woman turned around and met the Frenchman’s gaze. “It’s true. It’s gone. You can’t find it anywhere.”
Another man with an English accent snorted loudly. “I agree with him. Once something is released on the internet, it’s in the cloud. And once it’s there, you can’t get anything back.”
Keltan hid his grin because there was one person who could get it back or remove it entirely—Ryder.
Before the argument could continue, Bernadette quickly interjected, “We could debate this all night long. And while it’s fascinating, that’s not what I came to talk about. Though it is part of the story.”
Bernadette clicked something in her hand, and the picture of Fair Isle vanished, replaced with a list that made Keltan clench his teeth together.
“Here are all the things that involve dragons.”
Keltan read the list.
The video of dragons appearing, then disappearingThe dragon bones on Fair IsleArcheologist Faith Reynolds disappearingNo big deal. Dr. Davies had already mentioned all three.
Then Keltan read more of the list.
Bernadette touched on each one, adding dialogue next to the names. “Number 4: Known members of a mob go missing near Dreagan. Number 5: Kyle Ross goes missing only to be heard telling someone that he was going to find his sister who worked for Dreagan, then Kyle goes missing. Number 6: Renowned journalist Rachel Marek goes to Paris to cover the World Whisky Consortium and is seen with a representative from Dreagan—and has only released one new piece since then. And that piece was about Kyvor.”
“Kyvor is no longer in business,” someone said.
Dr. Davies nodded slowly. “No, they aren’t. After a little digging on my part, apparently, the higher-ups in the company were interested in buying out Dreagan Industries.”
Keltan wanted to stand up and tell everyone the truth about each of the points. He had to clench his hands into fists just to remain seated.
Based on everything Bernadette was laying out, anyone in the room who hadn’t believed was slowly coming to her way of thinking. And by the smile on her face, that’s exactly what she intended.
The question was why? What did she gain by all of this? What was her motive?
She continued down the list with a mention of how Dr. Sophie Martin had left her position at an Edinburgh hospital to open a practice near Dreagan. It was no surprise to Keltan when Bernadette cited the socialite Alexandra Sheridan and the Scotsman she had been photographed with in New York, only now to be seen near Dreagan.
Thank goodness Bernadette didn’t know about all the others. As it was, there was a serious case for anyone to take an interest in Dreagan on a level that would keep Ryder and his mate, Kinsey, extra busy.
For the next two hours, Keltan was one of the few who didn’t say anything as the room debated Dr. Davies’ list, adding their own thoughts and conjecture.
Bernadette answered question after question but never revealed any of her sources. And while it appeared those sources weren’t always accurate, they came close enough to make Keltan aware that someone knew the secrets of the Dragon Kings.
The problem would be discovering who it was—and silencing them.
CHAPTER TWO
It had gone better than she could’ve hoped. So much better. Then again, how could anyone not want to know about dragons? Bernadette said good-bye to the last person leaving the room and packed up her papers and laptop. The talk was only supposed to last two hours, and yet she’d talked for five.
The entire evening had exceeded anything she’d dared to hope for. Finally, it seemed as though others might actually begin to pay attention to the things she had to say about those at Dreagan—especially since she knew the truth.
She hadn’t had to explain if she had proof or not, and she was thankful since she couldn’t exactly show it. Everyone had been immersed in the discussion and the links that she had found between the various women and Dreagan.
But she knew she would have to show the proof eventually. She’d brought the dragon scale for just that. And yet she didn’t want to share it. It had been something she’d kept to herself for nearly a year now. To show it to others would almost be like sharing a secret part of herself.
A part that had kept her going during the long months when her fellow anthropology colleagues thought she’d lost her mind. Though she supposed she’d feel the same thing about someone who, after a decade as an anthropologist, had decided to become a cryptozoologist.
Not that she’d had a choice. As soon as she’d seen the dragon, she’d been unable to look away.
Or think of anything else.
For weeks after, she’d stared at everyone around her, wondering how they couldn’t know of the magical beings that lived among them. It boggled her mind that so many went about their lives as if they were the only creatures on Earth.
She, however, knew differently. Her glimpse of the dragon had opened up an entire world to her. It was also how she’d discovered the Fae.
Bernadette pulled her keys from her purse as she looped the strap of her laptop bag over her shoulder. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.
The moment she walked from the back room into the restaurant and was assaulted by the various delicious smells, she decided to eat there. It was a splurge that she couldn’t really afford, but she was going to do it anyway. It was her gift to herself for carrying out such a fabulous evening.
Bernadette set her bag and purse on the chair next to her as a waiter handed her a menu. Her mouth watered as she looked at all the options. Everything sounded good, which made choosing difficult. Then she looked at the prices and barely hid her wince.
The food wasn’t extremely expensive, but since she was now down to part-time at the museum so she could focus on her research about dragons, her income had taken a beating.
“Excuse me, madam. This is for you.”
She looked up as the waiter set a glass of whisky on the table. “Um … I’m sorry, but I didn’t order this.”
“It’s from the gentleman at the bar,” he told her and motioned to his right.
Bernadette leaned around the waiter, her gaze latching on to the bearded man who lifted a small tumbler filled with amber liquid in her direction.
The waiter then said, “The gentleman said you should give it a try. It’s the best Scotch in the world. And, frankly, I have to agree with him.”
Bernadette swallowed hard as her gaze swung back to the glass before her. “What brand is it?”
She knew the answer before the waiter said, “Dreagan.”
She closed the menu and set it before her as her heart hammered in her chest. The man at the bar was from Dreagan. She knew it with the same certainty that she knew dragons were real. There was no running from him. She’d known that someone from Dreagan would contact her sooner or later.
She just hadn’t expected it to be in person.
Bernadette had never run away from anything in her life. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. There was that incident when she was seven, but did that really count?
She squared her shoulders and looked back at the man at the bar. She took in his dark blond locks that were combed away from his face and fastened in a queue at the back of his neck. His gaze was still locked on her.
While she couldn’t discern the color of his eyes, there was little doubt that he expected her to ignore him. The slight widening of his eyes when she waved him over had her giving herself a little pat on the back—albeit with a shaking hand. She might be sitting with a straight spine, but it would be foolish to not be at least a little anxious.
Her gaze didn’t waver from him as he casually stood from the barstool. He was tall—taller than expected. And the fact that he carried himself with certainty had her anxiety skyrocketing with a vengeance.
The waiter wisely walked away before the man approached. Bernadette shoved her hair back from her face and tried not to fiddle with her hands—a nervous habit she had yet to break.
“Good evening.”
Damn. His voice was as smooth and rich as velvet. It had just the right amount of husky timbre that made bumps rise on her flesh.
She had been raised along Scotland’s border with England, so it wasn’t as if she hadn’t heard a Scots brogue before, but there was something unique about his. Something wild and untamed that made every nerve ending in her body stand up and take notice.
To her delight, her voice came out strong and clear when she gave him a nod of greeting and said, “Good evening. Please, join me.” She motioned to the chair opposite her.
He pulled out the seat and lowered himself into it before his eyes met hers once more.
“Thank you for the drink,” she continued. “Why do you believe that I’ve not drunk whisky before?”
Instead of answering, he asked, “Have you?”
“No.” Damn him. She should’ve guessed that he’d come back with such a comment.
“Try it,” he urged.
“I’m not much of a drinker. I’ll occasionally have a glass of wine, but that’s it.”
The man shrugged one shoulder. “Please, doona feel as if you have to drink it.”
Well, now she wanted to more than ever. “It’s always good to try new things, right?”
One side of his mouth kicked up in a grin. Bernadette spotted even, white teeth. His eyes were the color of amber, and they blazed with a fire that mesmerized her and made her breath catch in her throat.
Her stomach clenched as she continued staring into his beautiful eyes. Finally, she lifted the glass to her lips, but just before she took a drink, he stopped her.
“Smell it first,” he urged. “Let the flavors of the whisky invade your nose before they hit your tongue.”
The way he’d said it made it sound so … sensual. As if they were about to do something sexual, not drink Scotch. She swallowed and inhaled the scent of the whisky as he’d advised.
To her shock, she quite liked it. It was nutty, and she could definitely smell the peat moss used. But there was something else she recognized yet couldn’t quite name.
She looked at him over the rim of the glass. Their eyes met and held. She sat there surrounded by the smell of whisky and the presence of a man that set her on edge and made the air around them fairly crackle.
“Now, drink,” he told her in a soft voice.
Without hesitation, she let the liquid touch her tongue, and her mouth exploded with flavor. She tasted the peat moss and the nuttiness she’d smelled, but she also noticed a smokiness. The Scotch was heavy and bold. It burned slightly as it went down her throat and settled into her stomach, but she went back for another sip.
The man’s smile was slow, his gaze stating that he’d known she would like it. Bernadette licked the whisky from her lips as she set the glass on the table.
“Are you ready to order, madam?” the waiter asked as he walked up, seemingly out of nowhere.
She’d forgotten all about being hungry. Bernadette opened the menu again and quickly scanned the items, looking for something that was reasonably priced.
“The smoked salmon is particularly good,” the man said.
Salmon was one of her favorite dishes. She hadn’t had it in months. It sounded so good that she didn’t even look at the price. “I’ll have that,” she told the waiter.
The man then turned to her table companion, who waved him off.
Once they were alone again, Bernadette leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over the other. “I would introduce myself, but I believe you already know who I am.”
“I do.”
She liked that he hadn’t tried to lie. She’d give him props for that, at least. Bernadette raised a brow, waiting for him to offer his name.
He chuckled and said, “I’m Keltan Dreagan, but you already knew I was from Dreagan.”
“I did,” she confessed. Bernadette wracked her brain, trying to remember if he’d been in her lecture, but she couldn’t place seeing him. Not that she paid attention to every face—something she would need to change.
“I came to hear your talk.”
She let out a sigh. “I see. For one of you to come, those at Dreagan must be worried about what I’m going to say.”
His lips twisted as he lifted a shoulder. “Every business has an interest when they learn someone is telling wild tales about them.”
“But they aren’t so wild. They’re the truth.”
“You believe you know the truth?” he asked, a blond brow arched.
There was something in his words that gave Bernadette pause, yet she found herself saying “Yes.”
“Hmm,” he said as he took a swallow of his whisky. “You have quite a few theories, Dr. Davies.”
“Are you here to tell me I’m wrong?”
“As I said, I came to listen to what you had to say.”
She laughed and reached for the Scotch once more. “And the drink?”
“No’ something I intended, but I doona regret it.”
“Despite everything I said about Dreagan?”
He glanced at his hands that rested in his lap, one large one holding the tumbler. “I was curious about you.” His lids lifted, and amber eyes caught hers.
“Curious?” she repeated, a little thrill running through her that she didn’t understand or expect.
“Something must have happened that turned your focus to Dreagan.”
“And you want to know what that was,” she said with a smirk.
Keltan shook his head. “Dig into Dreagan Industries all you like. We give substantial sums to various charities around the globe. You’ll no’ find anyone in our company who’s been arrested or given so much as a speeding ticket.”
“That’s just it, Mr. Dreagan. You and everyone at your company are squeaky clean. Too clean, in fact.”
He chuckled and sat up in his chair, bracing his forearms on the table. “Are you honestly telling me that the fact we’re no’ breaking the law and do right by others means we’re a target? Lass, there are plenty of other people for you to go after. Throw a stone, you’ll hit one.”
“So, you’re not a dragon.”
Her words stopped him in mid-rise from his chair. He slowly lowered himself back down and leaned close to her. “Do you know how daft you sound?”
“I don’t care.”
“You should. I dug into you, Dr. Davies. You had a stellar career, one that only a fool would throw away so nonchalantly. You were respected, and with just a few printed words from your first post about dragons, you lost that respect.”
She leaned forward and lowered her voice since she saw others in the restaurant staring at them. “I don’t care what others think.”
“That’s shite,” he stated, no heat in his words.
She ignored him and continued, “If you knew something was true, that something extraordinary was real, would you keep it to yourself? Or would you tell the world?”
“I doona know what proof you think you have, but there is no such thing as dragons. They’re nothing but mythological creatures.”
“Then why do you have them on your logo? Dreagan is Gaelic for dragon.”
Keltan shrugged and shook his head. “Dragons, griffons, and a host of other mythological creatures have been used for eons as logos and on family crests. Why does anyone choose such a logo? You’re reading far too much into this, I’m sorry to say.” With a nod, he stood. “Goodnight, Dr. Davies.”
She could only watch as he walked away.
Copyright © 2019 by Donna Grant
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