Dragon Mated: Supernatural Prison #3 Read online

  DRAGON MATED

  DRAGON MATED

  Supernatural Prison #3

  Jaymin Eve

  Dragon Mated: Supernatural Prison #3

  Copyright © Jaymin Eve 2016

  All rights reserved

  First published in 2016

  Eve, Jaymin

  Dragon Mated: Supernatural Prison #3

  1st edition

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. All characters in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. 1.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Acknowledgements

  Other books by this Author

  Book Recommendations

  About the Author

  To Leia Stone, thank you for being the best BAFF a girl could ask for. We are totally Jessa and Mischa, twin souls separated at birth. (Dibs on Jessa … because, you know, Braxton) ;)

  It’s said that if you lie with snakes long enough, you either become a snake or you get bitten. Makes perfect sense. Except, if you’re a wolf, you lie in wait, you bide your time, and right when its guard is down, you kill that fucking snake.

  Jessa Lebron

  Chapter 1

  To say I was upset about being kidnapped by Larkspur, the self-proclaimed dragon king and all-around asshole, would be one of those grand understatements, like saying a cyclone was just a little storm, or Braxton Compass just a little deadly. No, I wasn’t upset, not upset at all – my emotions were running hotter than the depths of hell, fire burning in my gut and utter hatred swamping every feeling in my body.

  It felt like weeks since my entire world had been turned upside down, but I knew it was no more than a single day. Twenty-four hours—nothing really in the eight hundred plus years I could live—and yet it was the longest day of my life so far.

  My mind continued reliving the moment Larkspur had snatched me up from Krakov, the Romanian supernatural prison, and flew like a freaking human lizard through his step through. I had no idea where the frig we were—some sort of castle floating through the sky. I was pretty sure we were nowhere on Earth. The tall, honey-blond dragon king had dumped my butt into this room and then left without a word.

  Mutha-flaming asshole.

  I stepped gingerly through the mess of wood, feathers, and linen that covered the floor and made my way to the one, tiny window. I took my time examining the landscape and grounds again, memorizing the visible stone paths that led from this building, trying to orient myself so I might have a shot at escaping. The castle seemed to consist of a weird mixture of rough, grayish stone, and a cream-colored, porous granite, all of which swirled together into large turrets and a mile-wide series of smaller buildings, a mess of mazes which would make escaping extremely difficult.

  Not to mention the entire concoction was floating about ten miles in the air.

  If I didn’t hate the dragon king so much, I’d admire his genius.

  My wolf and dragon were restless inside. We did not like the strange magic surrounding us. It was not natural—it felt like the fey, only a million times stronger. Yeah, I was taking a guess here, but it made sense that Larkspur would hide in Faerie. Few supes lived here, and the land was pure magic. The perfect world in which to hatch his dastardly plan.

  A low thud at the door had me swiveling and falling into a semi-crouched position. The door was heavy and metal, reinforced and bolted. I knew this because I’d spent the first part of my time here trying to smash it down. Even calling on my dragon hadn’t helped, and she was strong. Obviously, old Larky had planned for that. Larky. I was totally calling him that from now on. I just knew it was something he’d hate. He was all regal and proper and king-like, and Larky sounded like a baby bird or some shit.

  I stalked closer to the door. Whoever walked through was going down. I could already feel my body changing as my wolf shifted closer to the surface. We did not like to be caged; we would kill our abductor and we would make it hurt.

  I was about three feet from the massive door when I felt the stirring of magic, and then a small gap appeared in the stone, just above my head. I caught a flash of a face, skin which looked to be a scaly green. Then a tray was pushed through to my side.

  I lunged forward, prepared to pull scaly through also. I was not above using a hostage to try and get out of here, but the magically-reinforced opening only allowed one-directional movement. My hand slammed against the gap like it was solid rock. Which kinda hurt. Cursing, I yanked the tray out and flung it like a Frisbee across the room. It smashed against the far wall and joined the rest of the rubble on the floor.

  “You should eat,” a low voice murmured through the door. “I won’t bring you more food for six hours.”

  Truth. Even the demi-fey couldn’t hide truth from me.

  My stomach protested. I hadn’t eaten for a while, but I’d be damned if I took any of king asshole’s food. I would rather starve.

  Okay, that might be some crazy talk going on there. Maybe I’d just make a decent attempt at a self-induced starvation protest.

  Shut it, I mentally chastised my stomach.

  I focused on scaly again. “Come in here and make me eat it,” I said. I could only hope the supe on the other side was one who couldn’t resist a challenge.

  There was a brief pause, then I swear I heard a chuckle before the magic dissipated and the opening was gone. New waves of anger and frustration rose up in my mess of emotions. I wanted to scream loudly. It was on the tip of my tongue. But I would not give them the satisfaction. I had no doubt the dragon king was watching me. I was getting a creepy vibe, and he was as creeptastic as all hell.

  I stepped away from the door again, making my way over to the last space on the floor clear of debris in the large, round room. I settled down and crossed my legs, my back against the gray stone wall.

  Time to connect to my dragon.

  Closing my eyes and settling my thoughts were step one. I breathed deeply, deliberately, trying to calm the tumult of emotions. It took some time, but finally, when I felt that I was as Zen as I could be under current circumstances, I reached for my beast.

  For most of my twenty-two years, I thought the dragon was a demon living inside of me. My dragon mark had been spelled and she was hidden away, which had damaged the bond between us. I could feel her there. I practically saw her as she prowled around inside, but I couldn’t shift on command. The wall between us was always present; the only time it busted open was when I was in mortal danger.

  Braxton had said that my dragon and I needed time for our bond to properly form, that after this all the issues would disappear. So since I had nothing but time right now, I was going to try and bond with the biggest weapon I had at my disposal.

  I let my consciousness drift toward her, bypassing my wolf, who was content to let our dragon sister
have the floor. I hovered on the near side of the wall, trying to seep through, trying to figure out how to reach her. She roared at me, sensing my need. We needed to escape. We needed to find our family. We needed our Compasses. We needed Braxton.

  Calm had slipped out of reach again; my thoughts were red hot, anger mingling with a tinge of sorrow. The Compass quads were my best friends; we had been a pack since we were two. That was all, just pack and best friends. Until a few days ago.

  What happened then was the best thing in my life. Braxton Compass. Six and half feet of chiseled hotness, with double dimples, hair as black as the darkest night and eyes so blue the sky was jealous. We’d both fought the attraction for years, me because I was a hardheaded dumbass who was afraid to break our friendship pact and possibly ruin the pack dynamics, and Braxton because I was a hard-headed dumbass and he was waiting for me to figure out that there was so much more between us than friendship.

  He had been waiting for me for years. Which was new knowledge for me, and it totally had my emotions on overload.

  My body still tingled thinking about the few brief times we’d been together, and as luck – and fate – would have it, Braxton was my true mate … well, sort of. Something had malfunctioned with the bond; it was only partially there, but I didn’t give a flying crap on toast. He was my true mate, chosen by the gods, and for me there was no other choice, no matter if Larky thought otherwise.

  Just behind Braxton in my heart were the rest of the Compasses. They were my best friends too, just minus the romance. Their faces crossed my mind, images tangled together, each one more beautiful and badass than the next. Tyson, the wizard with his brown-auburn hair and honeysuckle eyes; Jacob, the slightly more fine-boned fey, with his white-blond hair and leaf-green eyes; Maximus, a massive vampire who rocked some sexy dirty-blond hair and dark brown eyes; then lastly Braxton, dragon shifter and badass. They were quads. They were beautiful. They were arrogant assholes with dimples and attitude problems and I missed them so freaking much it actually hurt to breathe.

  My wolf and dragon both started to howl then, and deciding I didn’t give a single shit if the douchey king was watching, I threw back my head and let my anguish pour out of me in one long stream of hoarse screams and growling curses.

  My grief was cut off by a low, measured voice. “In my time, ladies did not speak so … vulgar. I think I kind of like it.”

  I was on my feet so fast the room spun. The amused voice was close. Somehow douche king had managed to get into my room and was standing before me without having set off a single one of my senses. Goddamn sneaky shifter.

  Air exhaled rapidly from my nose as I stared the asshole down. He was handsome, there was no denying that. Though that cold, regal thing he had going on did nothing for me.

  Gray eyes flashed as he looked around the room. The amusement did not fade from his quirked lips. “I see your accommodations weren’t to your liking.”

  I didn’t take my eyes from him but I knew what he was referring to. Upon my arrival the room had contained three pieces of furniture: a large four-poster bed: heavy, dark timbered, with netting on all sides; a dresser; and a small side vanity. All three were now in a million pieces strewn across the slate floor, most of which was hidden by the ton of feathers I’d ripped from the mattress. It was almost pretty in here now, a snowy massacre of wood.

  He paused, as if waiting for me to join his conversation. I didn’t say anything; I was not playing nice with Larky. His eyes shuttered, and in an odd movement he almost stumbled forward, as if he couldn’t help himself.

  That’s right, asshole. Come a little closer.

  His hands were clenched at his sides, those eyes turning from light gray to a dark tumult of emotions. I remained stationary; my expression did not shift, and as he tilted that golden face to the side – in a movement very much like a predator – I knew he was trying to understand what was going on in my head.

  My guess was that in his previous life this handsome, charismatic, and powerful piece-of-shit usually had women falling all over him. Looked like it was time to introduce him to few home truths about Jessa Lebron. She fell at no one’s feet.

  “You should eat, Jessa,” he said as he moved forward again, smoother this time, stepping around the mass of debris which separated us. “I know you love food.”

  How? Seriously, how did he know anything about me? He’d been stuck in the land of asshole souls for the past thousand years. I wondered if his daughters, the bitch twins, had managed to stay in contact with their father.

  I couldn’t keep quiet any longer. “Where are we?”

  Larky’s grin widened, as if he’d won some sort of dominance challenge in getting me to talk. I was just information gathering so I knew where the frig to run when I managed to get free.

  And I would be getting free.

  “This is my castle in the sky; it has to stay in Faerie. You know how the humans get when things are outside of their control or understanding. Plus, it’s much easier to float here with all of the magic in this land.”

  Dammit! I had guessed right. Faerie. I had no idea how to get out of this realm, but … Louis had tracked me here before. I hoped he could do it again, just as soon as I got out of this place – there’d definitely be some sort of spell here cloaking my energy. The entire castle was probably hidden.

  “How can you be here? I thought this land was dying. That’s why there was a mass exodus of fey and demi-fey, right?”

  Those gray eyes were calculating as they locked on my face. “Are the leaders still spinning that story?” He continued to stare, and I kind of got the feeling he thought I was an idiot.

  “Yes, they’re still spinning that story!” I snarled.

  He laughed, like out-loud, grab-at-his-belly laughter. It hurt my ears and gave me those tingles down my spine in the bad way. The really bad way.

  “Come,” he finally said when his eerie laughter ended. “Let’s dine together. In the meantime, someone will be in to fix up your room.”

  He held out a hand for me – like just held it out, expecting I would take it. Worst part, a very small part of me did want to take his hand. The dragon mark on my back, which was large enough to encompass my entire side, was warm, like it knew its master was close by. The dragon king basically owned all of the dragon marked; we were his little army of brain-dead minions. He could control us, communicate with us, and lots of other joyful facts.

  So far I’d heard or felt nothing of him in my head, I wasn’t sure if he hadn’t bothered to tap into the mark yet or if it was only something he could do in the Earthly realm. Either way, I was hoping like hell he would not use this connection between us. I would fight him to my dying breath, but if that control was wrested from me … shit. I was really hoping that would not happen.

  I stepped closer, my booted feet kicking up a few planks as I plowed through them. I was still dressed in my dirty, torn clothes from the prison. I’d only been in Faerie for about a day, but it already felt like a year. Time moved so differently here; I wondered how much time had passed on Earth. I had no doubt my family was losing their shit. Braxton had probably already razed half of Romania to the ground. The other quads wouldn’t be far behind him.

  I forced my expression not to change, eyes motionless on Larky as he waited for me. I managed to swallow down the flood of hatred that wanted to pour from my mouth. Acting nice might be my one chance of catching him off guard.

  “I’ll show you where you can get cleaned up,” he said.

  “A shower?” I asked with a dickish level of false enthusiasm. Like he could soften me up so easily.

  He nodded. “Yes, of course. Shower, clean clothes, and then food. You don’t need to live like an animal. You’re my beloved, and we’re going to rule over the five races.”

  Oh, like wow, he was really pulling out the big guns today.

  I forced myself to smile, just a little, as if the thought of being his beloved and ruling over the five supernatural races was a pleasa
nt thought for me. Reality was, I’d rather cut my own head off than be in the same room as this slimy piece of crap.

  Actually, scratch that. I’d prefer to cut his head off.

  When I was close enough to touch him, I pretended I was about to reach for his hand, but just as his fingers were about to wrap around mine, I leaned back, kicked up a long board from the floor, and using every ounce of my strength swung it directly into his face. His eyes had been locked on me, so he was a beat too slow to get out of the way. I clocked him directly in the temple and actually knocked him down. I was over the top of him faster than he could blink, straddling him and slamming my elbow directly into his throat. He wheezed out, his cheeks and eyes darkening. He was not a happy camper, and I gave zero fucks.

  I knew I couldn’t kill him. I’d stabbed him directly in the heart and the bastard had just pulled it out and went along his merry way. But I was still going to enjoy causing him pain. His nose crunched as my fist pushed it to the side. Blood poured from it, which told me he was real enough to bleed. Of course it basically healed in an instant, which was very annoying. He reached for me, and I sprang backwards, my boot landing in his gut. Despite that lame grab attempt, he wasn’t fighting back. He was just sitting there and letting me hit him.

  What the hell?

  “Fight back!” I growled at him. “Don’t treat me as weak.”

  He gracefully arose, sort of levitating to his feet. “This would not be a fair fight. Even though I haven’t tapped into the thousands of marked souls at my command, I’m still much stronger than you. And once I do draw upon the marked power … there will be no stopping me.”

  I had some scary thoughts racking me then. Is he actually saying that…?

  “If the dragon marked are alive, you can’t die? I would have to kill every single dragon marked before I can kill you?” My tone was low, mingled with disbelief and what-the-fuckery.

 
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