Dragon Games

By Jory Strong

Supernatural Bonds #8:

Though he has no intention of shackling himself to a female, Tielo has devised a poker invitational to bring potential human mates to Drake’s Lair for his fellow dragons. Club co-owner Pierce has also set a plan in motion—to see his partner mated. When their two schemes collide in the shape of Lyra, smoke and flame result, literally.

For Lyra, the invitation to an evening of high-stakes poker is the answer to a prayer and her chance to help a family in need. But her confidence wavers upon entering Drake’s Lair, where the male members role-play as dragons and brazenly display their sensuality.

None are as dangerously distracting as Tielo. The gold-and-silver “dragon” could be her downfall, and not just at the poker table. Because despite his attempts at denial, overwhelming need and lust blast Tielo the instant he meets Lyra. He’ll have her beneath him before the night is done, his essence inside her, his claim undeniable.

For dragons, mating is no game...and Tielo is playing for keeps.

Please note: A previous edition of this story was published by Ellora’s Cave.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jory Strong
• Release date: Dec 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370507412

Jory Strong

Jory Strong has been writing since childhood and has never outgrown being a daydreamer. When she's not hunched over her computer, lost in the muse and conjuring up new heroes and heroines, she can usually be found reading, riding horses, or walking dogs. Her stories have won numerous awards, as well as been national best sellers. She lives in California with her husband and a menagerie of pets. She loves hearing from readers. Visit her website at jorystrong.com or contact her at [e-mail].

Book preview

Dragon Games

Supernatural Bonds

Jory Strong

Copyright 2012 by Jory Strong

Smashwords Edition

Cover design by Syneca Featherstone

* * * * *

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Thank You!

About the Author

* * * * *

Chapter 1

Tielo leaned back in his chair and put his feet on the desk. Tilting his head, he opened his mouth and exhaled a controlled burst of fire toward the ceiling in the way a human might send a puff of cigar smoke upward. Life didn't get any better than this.

Through the open doorway he could hear the spin of roulette wheels and shuffle of cards. He could smell the gold of the coins used in place of poker chips, and the scent of glittering jewels piled on tables as additional collateral. And best of all, he could feel the excitement generated by his latest scheme.

It's perfect.

Perfect, he repeated. And if he sounded like a dragon stretched on a sunny ledge, or lying on a bed of priceless gems, well, he was a dragon and Drake's Lair was part of his hoard, one shared in partnership with the fey lord, Pierce—who stepped through the doorway as if summoned by the thought of him.

Someone looks pleased with himself, Pierce said, flopping down in the chair across the desk from Tielo.

Tielo lifted a crystal flute filled with Dragon's Flame in a salute. I am genius, hear me roar. Our fortunes are about to double, if not quadruple. You have, no doubt, noted the influx of patrons to the club.

"The Dragon's Cup is here, guaranteeing fertility to any pair who drinks from it, what did you expect? Even those dragons who don't have an existing mate, or a woman in mind to become a mate, want to see for themselves that the cup has been recovered and is now in dragon possession. Or more specifically, in the possession of male dragons, so you no longer have to play the role of boy toys to the females of your kind."

Tielo snorted black smoke through his nostrils, refusing to let Pierce ruin his excellent mood with a reminder of what was now the past. Not yet the distant past, but then, for a dragon, such a measure was a difficult feat anyway.

Pierce spoke the truth, though many a male would still choose a human female over a dragon one. Having the cup here, in this human realm and in the bastion of male power that was Drake's Lair, did in fact change the dynamic between dragon sexes—an imbalance that had formed over the millennium thanks to the curse placed on his race by the wizard Enos.

By the Great Ancestor! Tielo had no desire to be encumbered with a mate of any species, but rage burned through him with thoughts of the wizard.

May the sorcerer burn in Hades! Or better yet, be chained to a rock like Prometheus for all eternity. Only instead of having his liver eaten each day by an eagle, only to be regenerated so the torment could begin with the rise of the sun, let Enos lose testicles and cock!

The wizard had been envious of dragon wealth, covetous of it. He had created the chalice and tied dragon creation magic to it, making births rare.

In the old days, before the chalice fell into the hands of the fey and then was lost in the mortal realm, dragons could get around the curse by giving Enos some of their treasure. In return, the sorcerer would allow them to drink from the cup, restoring fertility for decades, and occasionally centuries.

Now, thanks to a pact between three dragon princes—Severn, Hakon and Malik—the cup had been recovered. It was available to all males and their chosen mates, without payment or obligation. And though Tielo claimed allegiance to his cousin Severn, Drake's Lair had long served as neutral territory and now housed the Dragon's Cup.

His lips would not soon touch the cup's rim. But that didn't mean he couldn't capitalize on the desire of other dragons to shackle themselves to a female and breed.

The prospect of growing riches banished old rage and sent pleasure purring through him. Dropping his feet to the floor, he set his glass on the desk and poured one for Pierce before refilling his own. Handing the flute to his partner and reclaiming his drink, Tielo said, A toast is in order.

"Let me guess… To your genius."

He affected a modest nod. Care to hear about my latest scheme, already set in motion?

I can hardly wait. Pierce touched his glass to Tielo's, hiding his amusement as he did so. He'd set his own plan in motion, and it was about to intersect with his partner's—though Tielo didn't know it.

They emptied their glasses, the Dragon's Flame a rich, potent elixir delivering a satisfying burn on its way down.

I'm now sufficiently fortified to hear your latest, Pierce said, setting the flute on the desk, though also lifting the centuries-old decanter and refilling his glass.

Tielo opened his top drawer, retrieving a postcard-sized piece of paper. He handed it to Pierce.

A sinuous, multicolored dragon bathed in flame ran along the card's border. Bold lettering entitled the bearer to enter the club and join its members for a game of cards, with Drake's Lair providing a gambling stake of $100,000 in chips and winnings above that amount convertible to cash at the conclusion of the evening.

Pierce placed the card on the desk between them. Pretending ignorance of its intended use, he said, An interesting concept, but we hardly need to bait a hook in order to lure human whales into the club. We've got a waiting list of wealthy individuals who want to come here and gamble their fortunes away. If we were willing to allow them as members, even with limited privileges, we could quadruple our membership inside a month's time.

Tielo shook his head. You lack vision, my friend. He gestured toward his open doorway and the crowd visible through it. "The invitations are meant to bring suitable women here. Already the cards are making their way into the hands of a select few. That's why the gaming tables are full and the dining areas overflowing—in anticipation.

I don't truly understand the appeal, though there must be one since you yourself have succumbed—to the extent of being willing to share a wife—but there is obviously a large number of males anxious to surrender their freedom to a female. And Drake's Lair is in the unique position to benefit from it.

Pierce called fire, his element, because yanking a dragon's tail even metaphorically was a dangerous game. He manipulated the flames, creating a ball to toss between his open hands so he'd have a ready defense.

How are you distributing the cards? he asked. Tell me you don't have Henri trolling the beach for bikini-clad beauties and passing the invitations out.

Tielo laughed at the image of the club's very proper maître d' engaged in such an activity. Hardly that, though the idea does have merit, purely for its amusement value. No, my plan is much more refined. In fact, it's perfection.

If you do say so yourself. Pierce couldn't resist the urge to throw the ball of fire at Tielo.

Tielo exhaled a small gout of flame, meeting fire with fire over the center of his desk. If I may continue?

Of course.

Severn and Sophie are back from their sex-cation, their little vacation to the dragon realm to complete their bond. As soon as I learned they were home, I paid a visit. Flush from the pleasure of nonstop mating, our now-mutual cousin Sophie agreed, with Severn's permission, to take some invitations to Inner Magick and get the half-elf—

Aislinn. She's friends not only with Sophie, but with Storm. Not to mention the dragon princes consider themselves indebted to her for the help she freely gave. Without it, the cup might not have been recovered at all.

A hand touched to Tielo's chest and a quick bow of his head served as an apology for any slight Pierce might feel on behalf of the woman who was friends with Storm, the wife he shared with his cousin Tristan.

Pierce gave a slight nod. He picked up the flute of Dragon's Flame, tipping it toward Tielo in acceptance of the apology and a signal for Tielo to continue explaining his grand scheme, a dragon game Pierce hoped would have a different outcome than the one Tielo expected.

Sophie has agreed to petition Aislinn on our behalf. She felt sure Aislinn would be willing to offer the invitations to some of those who frequent her shop.

Pierce allowed a smile of satisfaction, confident Tielo wouldn't understand the full truth of it. "An excellent plan. Aislinn is in the unique position