Blaze: Volume 4: A Dragon Romance

By Donna Grant

Volume Four of an exclusive four-part volume by New York Times bestselling author Donna Grant.

Who was he to be able to consume her in such a way? He had filled her body and mind as easily as if he wielded some type of...magic.
Anson vows to protect Devon from the Fae. But can he control the flames of passion that blaze within his heart?

Read all four parts of this sensational volume and look for the full volume of Blaze in June 2017.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Macmillan Publishers
• Release date: May 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781250149398

Donna Grant

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. She’s written more than thirty novels spanning multiple genres of romance including the bestselling Dark King stories, Dark Craving, Night’s Awakening, and Dawn’s Desire. Her acclaimed series, Dark Warriors, feature a thrilling combination of Druids, primeval gods, and immortal Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives with her two children, a dog, and four cats in Texas. "Dark, sexy, magical. When I want to indulge in a sizzling fantasy adventure, I read Donna Grant." --Allison Brennan, New York Times Bestselling Author

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Chapter Thirty-seven

Eons of time learning to control his rage was what got Anson through Amdir’s mind-numbing prattle about how he hated Balladyn and was going to claim what was his.

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Amdir finally left the room. Still, Anson waited until there was no doubt that he was alone. Only then did he sit up and look around.

The space wasn’t what one would expect of a lab or a torture chamber. There were no instruments or racks. The only thing in the room was a long, wooden table.

Upon it were stacks of books. One was open. Anson climbed to his feet and got as close to the table as the chains allowed. He was able to get near enough to peer at the book.

Writing. The books were Amdir’s journals. And at the top of this new page was Anson’s name. He held back his snort of anger. So, Amdir wanted to jot notes during the torture. That wasn’t going to happen.

The Dark weren’t enemies of the Kings simply because the Fae slaughtered humans without regard, revered malevolence, or embraced everything wicked.

The Dragon Kings eagerly and enthusiastically killed any Dark as retribution for the capture and subsequent torture of two Kings. The centuries of unrelenting torment had broken those Kings’ minds. That’s when the Dark had released one out into the world.

That day would live forever in every King’s memory. The horror of seeing one of their brethren so . . . destroyed. They were the most powerful beings in the realm, yet the Dark had managed to get the upper hand—briefly.

Every King had stared in helpless dismay at their fellow King. They’d all wanted it to be an illusion, some deception that their brother would throw off and turn the tables on the Dark. But it wasn’t to be.

That had left Con no choice but to put the King out of his misery. Yet, it hadn’t been an easy task. It was a major event when a Dragon King killed another, which was why Con, as King of Kings, had shifted and stepped up to do what none of them could.

There had been a moment of quiet as Con stood over their dead comrade. Con then lifted his head, his dragon eyes locking on to the Dark. And in one of those rare instances, Con released his wrath upon the Fae.

For days after, Con had closed himself in his rooms, refusing to speak to any of them. None of them had expected to see it affect Con so. But each of them recalled the day when the Dark had freed the second Dragon King. Before any of the others could step up, Kellan took the second King’s life.

Both of Kings’ deaths had been unnecessary. Yet it showed the Dragon Kings that they weren’t untouchable and that sometimes being immortal was a hindrance.

Anson refused to be the third King driven mad—and killed by his own. He wouldn’t make any of his brethren perform that horrible task. No matter what kind of torture Amdir administered, Anson wouldn’t break.

He couldn’t.

Not just for his brothers, or himself. But because of Devon.

He had to find her. Without a doubt, the Dark had taken her, as well. She was somewhere in the horrid Dark Palace. And Anson would find her.

Turning his back to the books, he looked at the wall where the chains were affixed. He yanked at them, expecting to feel some give. Unfortunately, there was nothing.

The chains were old. The wear upon the metal was evident by the scuffs and scratches. Then there was the dried blood. No doubt Amdir added magic to the chains with each use, building the Dark magic so that even a mortal would be able to sense it.

Anson tried to shift, and just as he’d expected, the chains prevented it. That didn’t deter him from finding a way to break free, however.

So the rumors are true, came a female voice behind him.

Anson spun around and looked at the Dark female. She wore a sleeveless, silver dress that skimmed the top of her thighs, showcasing black boots that laced up over her knees, and the bodice plunged down her chest, showing the swells of her breasts.

Never taking her red gaze from him, she slowly walked into the room and let her finger run along the table. Turning so that she looked at him over her shoulder, she bent at the waist to look at one of the books, revealing her bare ass. Her smile widened, and she straightened to face him.

Most males would be on their knees begging to let them have me by now, she said.

I’m no’ most.

She gave a small pout. I’m beginning to see that. What a pity. I like what I see.

He ignored her gaze that ran over his naked form. There was nothing about the female that appealed to him. Not after having Devon in his arms.

I suspect more Fae will come to see the Dragon King that Amdir caught, she said with a smirk.

Anson held up his hands, the chains clinking. Unlock me, and I’ll give you and every Dark in this pit a show when I go after Amdir.

I’m almost tempted to do just that. Her smile seemed genuine as she looked at him. Almost.

If you release me now, I’ll no’ kill you.

Her smile faded slowly. She flicked her long, black and silver hair over her shoulder and glanced at the door. We all have a part to play. Yours is to be right where you are.

And yours? he asked, lowering his arms.

More important than you could imagine. You might actually thank me later.

That intrigued him. Your name, Dark?

Muriel.

Though the Dark Fae usually wore red or black, they were also known to wear silver. He disregarded it at first, but now he took another look at