The Man With The Dragon Wings

By Lizzie Lynn Lee

For Emily:

She never would’ve imagined her knight in shining armor is a bounty hunter.
He’s too bastardly wicked to walk only the right side of the law.
Granted, he’s hot and sexy as hell, but when he surrenders to the nature of his beast, he’s more terrifying than a scary monster.
Her brain tells her to run. Her body wants her to stay.
But why does her heart ache when he’s in danger?

For Rovik:

He never believed in love at first sight, and yet, the moment he laid eyes on her, he knows he must have her.
Save her.
She’s a runaway bride and the man she was forced to marry doesn’t deserve her, but will stop at nothing to get her back. Including bringing in the whole clan to take down Rovik.
True mates are real, and he plans to convince her that nothing on earth could stop him from making her his.
Forever…

Author note: This story contains graphic dragon-on-dragon violence, a runaway bride who drives like a homicidal maniac, and a young dragon king who thinks every problem in the world can be solved with an orgasm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lizzie Lynn Lee
• Release date: Oct 26, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311761729

Book preview

For Emily:

She never would’ve imagined her knight in shining armor is a bounty hunter.

He’s too bastardly wicked to walk only the right side of the law.

Granted, he’s hot and sexy as hell, but when he surrenders to the nature of his beast, he’s more terrifying than a scary monster.

Her brain tells her to run. Her body wants her to stay.

But why does her heart ache when he’s in danger?

For Rovik:

He never believed in love at first sight, and yet, the moment he laid eyes on her, he knows he must have her.

Save her.

She’s a runaway bride and the man she was forced to marry doesn’t deserve her, but will stop at nothing to get her back. Including bringing in the whole clan to take down Rovik.

True mates are real, and he plans to convince her that nothing on earth could stop him from making her his.

Forever...

Author note: This story contains graphic dragon-on-dragon violence, a runaway bride who drives like a homicidal maniac, and a young dragon king who thinks every problem in the world can be solved with an orgasm.

Chapter One

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The moment the young woman walked into the diner, Rovik knew with his heart and soul she belonged to him. His mate.

A surge of heat rushed into his head. His heart hammered fast, and an insane urge to shift threatened his perfectly mastered human form. It felt as if his blood was seared from the inside out and every fiber of his being called for her. Beckoned her. Wanted to claim her. Make her his. Forever.

Even though he was sitting a dozen feet from the door, his sharp sense of smell caught a whiff of her scent. Beneath the floral fragrance of her perfume, the distinct aroma of that woman became a powerful aphrodisiac. His cock stirred underneath his jeans. Goddamn it. Rovik grabbed the ledge of the Formica countertop, waiting for the unexpected reaction to pass. He had never experienced such interest toward a woman.

A human, at that.

Fuck.

He calmed himself with a simple meditation trick he learned while stationed in Okinawa. Breathe in, think of nothingness, become one with nothingness, breathe out.

Gradually, he regained his composure.

Everyone in the diner turned their head in her direction, gawking. Rovik studied her surreptitiously. What do we have here? He never thought he’d see the day a runaway bride would hide out in a road side diner. She wore a floor length white wedding gown, complete with a sheer veil over her head. Her backless dress outlined her curvaceous figure: voluptuous chest, small waist, and full hips. She yanked the veil from her carefully done coiffure and balled it before chucking it unceremoniously into a nearby trash bin. She looked as if she had done a bit of sprinting as well judging that she looked out of breath.

Rovik couldn't take his eyes off her.

The woman scanned the diner. Their gazes collided.

And as if fate had intertwined theirs together, the woman picked up her gown and headed in his direction. She took the empty stool next to him at the countertop.

Give me a slice of that apple pie. Whipped cream too, please. Do you have some Coke? she asked the waitress behind the cash register. Her voice sounded like a song bird, beautiful and mellifluous.

Sure, hon, the waitress resumed her gum-chewing motion, eyeing the bride thoughtfully. Guess you're not getting married today, huh?

Nope, and just leave it at that, said the woman. Her tone was sad.

I know, honey. I'm sorry. The waitress patted the bride’s hand rather matronly and went to fetch her order.

Rovik eyed her. She was so goddamn beautiful, looking as if in her early twenties. She had stunning sapphire eyes shaded with long, lush black lashes. Her cheekbones were high and her sensual lips were rouged red. She had smooth, unblemished alabaster skin. Her glossy hair was a deep shade of mahogany and styled in an elaborate updo.

Can I buy you a sundae to go with the pie? Rovik asked.

She looked at him. Sundae? You know, I would love that.

The waitress returned with the runaway bride's order. Here we go, beautiful: a slice of apple pie topped with whipped cream and Coke on ice. Is there anything else you want?

Your special sundae for the lady, said Rovik to the waitress, then turned back to the bride. I was told this diner made their own ice cream. I tried their peach ice cream yesterday. It’s to die for.

For the first time since she came in, she smiled broadly, showing her perfect pearly white teeth. God, she was fucking beautiful. It was as if the whole world had just lit up. She was one of those rare few who could brighten a room like sunshine. He was captivated by her.

That would be wonderful, she said. I'd love to try.

You got it, hon. The waitress nodded and scurried to get her order.

The runaway bride offered her hand. My name is Emily. Everybody calls me Emmy, she said.

That's a beautiful name, he said, shaking her hand. Mine's Rovik.

Just Rovik?

And you just Emmy?

She blushed prettily. Emily Anderson. Today I’m supposed to be Emily McGuire. Thank God that didn't happen. Or should I say, won’t happen.

Rovik silently agreed. Otherwise, he wouldn't have met this woman. Well, Ms. Anderson, it's a pleasure to meet you. My name is Rovik Stromheim.

You have a Viking name, she remarked. How cool is that? She eyed him from head to toes and took it all in. From the leather jacket, dusty jeans, and biker boots, before her gaze briefly lingered at the open-carry weapon on his holster. Are you a cop?

I'm a fugitive apprehension agent.

A bounty hunter?

"Exactly, a bounty hunter."

The peach sundae arrived. Emily thanked the waitress and Rovik and started to pick on the whipped cream. She ate it with gusto and then demolished the pie as well before chugging the ice cold Coke. Rovik loved women with healthy appetites. He grew tired of watching his past dates pick on just salad for sustenance.

She exhaled a deep breath. Man, that hit the spot.

I told you it was good.

Yeah. I've been sugar deprived for the past three months to fit into this stupid dress.

How awful. I'd marry you dressed in a flour sack, Rovik ventured.

Her smile returned. Would you?

Pretty girl like you? Sure.

That's nice to hear. By the way, I'm not the one who got dumped at the altar. I ran away. Emily looked at the clock above the cash register. In twenty minutes, they will look for me. They'll catch me eventually. But I’ll go back kicking and screaming. This is my last chance of freedom.

Hearing that, every cell in his body went on full alert. Are you in trouble, Emmy?

Hmm? She lifted her eyes from the empty plate. I guess I can say that.

Did you call the cops?

Cops? She laughed. I'm supposed to marry the sheriff’s son. Don’t men in uniform tend to stick together, especially in small towns like this? She sighed. You wouldn't understand.

You’re mistaken. Try me, Rovik said.

You’re not from around here, are you?

I'm from New York. I came here to pick up a bail jumper. But my friend apprehended him a few hours ago.

So, are you driving back to New York? she asked.

That's the plan.

Can I go with you?

Rovik was stunned. Was this fate or temptation? This seemed too good to be true. You want to go with me, a man you've just met? Didn't your mom teach you not to go with strangers?

My mom's dead. Don't know my dad. I've lived with my mom’s friend since I was twelve. She studied his expression. "Say, you work as a bounty hunter, right? I’m good with numbers and I can run your business for you, you know, behind the scenes. I’m a fast learner and I can figure out how to cut your overhead to make your bottom line