Sleeping Dragon Stirs, part two: Outside the Veil, #2

By TJ Shaw

Part two in the exciting epic fantasy romance serial trilogy, Rogue Dragon Rising.

As the day of her awakening nears, Amari Hawke struggles to control the beast inside her. Basking in the energy of the approaching Trinity moon, her animal's strength has increased to the point it can control Amari's mind and body. Fearing she is about to slip into madness, Amari is forced into a tough choice.

In a desperate attempt to save Amari and her beast, Jaxon Blackthorn encourages his cadre, the men in his trusted circle, to establish mental links with her, but when his plans fail and Amari's animal exerts control, he must fight for the beautiful woman who is lost to her beast.

Together, can Amari and Jaxon's developing bond for each other overcome the urges driving Amari's animal as they also thwart an unseen enemy vying to keep them apart?

Please note: Sleeping Dragon Stirs ends in a cliffhanger. The third book in the serial trilogy, Alpha Dragon Awakes, provides a satisfying conclusion to Jaxon and Amari's story, but broader story arcs continue into the Outside the Veil series. Alpha Dragon Awakes also contains sensual dream sequences with reverse harem inferences.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Forgotten Dreams Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Oct 8, 2018
• ISBN: 9781948175074

TJ Shaw

As a child, TJ Shaw thrived in the Arizona desert. By the age of five she was riding horses through cotton fields and by eleven bought her first motorcycle, a 125cc Honda dirt bike. Growing up with teachers as parents meant traveling during the summer. Hiking down to Phantom Ranch in the Grand Canyon; fly fishing in icy rivers surrounded by breathtaking mountains; backpacking through national parks; surviving an earthquake in Mexico City; climbing the El Castillo, a pyramid in the ruins of Chichen Itza; sidestepping giant iguanas in the ancient Mayan port of Tulum; to exploring the Sagrada Familia, a Gaudi church in Barcelona, Spain were just some of her adventures. An avid daydreamer, she would lose herself in mystical worlds and far off places limited only by her imagination. Always athletic (400m state track champion, snow and water skier, boxer, swimmer), TJ garnered a scholarship offer to play college basketball, but chose an academic scholarship to Arizona State University instead. To put herself through undergrad and law school, she lifeguarded and coached swimmers before promoting into management for a multi-million dollar recreation facility. She worked as a researcher/bailiff for a criminal judge while studying for the bar exam and ultimately accepted a position as a Deputy County Attorney prosecuting felony crimes until she decided to patrol the streets as a police officer. Currently, she tells officers what to do as the policy and procedure writer for a police department. A writer at heart, she didn’t attempt to get published until Caller of Light. After placing (and winning) in several RWA chapter contests, she decided to find a home as an author for The Wild Rose Press. If there were additional hours in the day, TJ would tickle the ivories a little more, write about her dreams, and travel the world.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

FIRSTS

The dragon lord’s hard body commandeered Amari’s personal space as if he owned it, and her emotions took over, short-circuiting higher cognitive reasoning.

He was right; she was foolish. Instead of railing against him, she longed to explore the ridges and planes of his chest. Her body ached, stirring something inside her. Something she feared more than the dragon lord, whose hand currently perused her flesh with the arrogance of a man who took what he wanted. She acknowledged her true fear. He should be the one afraid, not her. Evil lived in the shadowy recesses of her mind. A darkness so buried in her subconscious, she didn’t know what it was…or remember, anyway.

Lord Blackthorn encouraged that malevolence by urging her to succumb to the sensations coursing through her. Although she remained still under his touch, every particle inside her wanted to adhere itself to his body and never let go.

She couldn’t explain her desire, she just wanted him to ease the hurt. While a kiss didn’t seem like proper payment, he had saved her life…twice. Just a quick peck. How difficult could it be? If he kissed her, then maybe he would let her go, so she could step away and regroup.

His lips skimmed her jaw, shooting chills through her. Are we in accord? he rumbled in a low voice.

Amari’s knees wobbled. If she let go, she would drown within his husky tone. The rustle of his shirt teased her breasts with the promise of his touch. She shouldn’t agree. Any sane female would run. Thankfully, since she’d already demonstrated she wasn’t well-balanced, she nodded.

Lord Blackthorn drew back, creating space between them. A quizzical expression crossed his face, as if he didn’t know what to make of her. She wanted to tell him not to worry because she didn’t know what she thought of herself either, but she could only stand against the stone, waiting for him to claim her with a kiss.

Hunger hardened his face—a predator anxious to taste its prey. She inhaled a deep breath, then stopped breathing. Warning bells tolled in her mind, not the soft chiming kind either, but a gong reverberating between her ears. He dipped his head, and her fingers curled around her dagger.

"Don’t fear this, mon est draco." His vibrant timbre washed over her like a raging river an instant before his lips touched hers.

Jaxon could sense Amari’s apprehension. His nervous sheep was acting as though she had never been kissed. Her heart pounded in erratic beats like a wild thing trying to break free from her rib cage. To be her first taste of a man, both inside her mind and on her lips, was intoxicating—the finest of ales. He would treasure the gift she bestowed for the rest of his life.

He stroked her cheek with his thumb. Her muscles tensed in readiness to flee, and he smiled. Aware of the dagger in her belt, she would have to do a better job of stabbing him before he’d grant this little lamb freedom.

His dragon clawed his insides. One moment demanding he take her hard, and the next, encouraging him to be gentle. She had his beast baffled too, not an easy feat against a mature dragon. Do not fear me, he murmured.

Alarm flitted across her face, but excitement also glittered in her emerald eyes.

Although young, he couldn’t believe no one had ever tasted her. She was too beautiful, too tempting for a young ram not to steal a quick peck behind a hay barn. His beast did not welcome the idea of another touching her, let alone kissing her, and as he angled his head to brush his lips against hers, the man couldn’t abide the thought either.

She gasped, but didn’t shy away. Her ragged breaths fueled his need, and when her small hands gripped his shirt, he growled in appreciation. Pushing her collar aside, he licked the soft skin at the base of her neck where he’d mark her if she were his mate. Her moan shot straight and true through his heart.

For years, his dragon had remained indifferent to his choice of women. After the plague took his family, grief kept him from establishing attachments. When King Dominus made him a soldier in the elite guard, defending the northern borders against the Colony, a bat-like race, constant troop movement prevented any serious relationship.

Although he had lain with many women, he always thought his beast’s inattentiveness was because it preferred the fierceness of the battlefield, instead of the charms of a bedmate. But he had been wrong…very wrong. He just hadn’t met the right woman. His dragon railed against him, demanding he mark her to show others she belonged to them. And with every moan from her sweet lips, his hold over his animal slipped a little more.

Lavishing a final lap to her shoulder, he trailed kisses up her neck before touching her lips. Although young and unskilled, her inquisitiveness charmed his old soul. She brushed her tongue against his, and his dragon jumped in surprise, then claimed itself hers for the taking. He smiled at his beast’s declaration.

Her hand wrapped around his neck while the other rested just below his collarbone on top of his tattoo. Jaxon’s skin twitched beneath her hand, and he groaned due to the sensory overload stemming from the black dragon marking. He had never permitted another to touch the sensitive brand, but as her palm pressed into his designation, he welcomed her hold.

She stood on her toes, growing more assured as she explored him—so young, a balm to his spirit. With each sweep of his tongue and every reassuring touch, her confidence grew…and so did his hunger. His hand traced down the sensual curves of her back, then pulled her against his hard length while his dragon chanted for him to claim her.

Take her. Make her ours.

Jaxon pushed her against the rock face and ground his hips into her. He was out of control, and didn’t intend on cupping her breast and sweeping his thumb across the hardened peak.

She broke from his kiss, panting against his ear. Chaos whirled inside her, tumbling onto his surreptitious link. Her arousal compounded his lack of restraint, fostering an intensifying harmonic, which echoed across their connection. He nibbled kisses down her jaw before nipping her earlobe.

Her body shook, yet she dug her fingers into his shoulders and didn’t let go.

"Do you like how I make you feel, mon est draco?"

Yes, she hissed.

His cock jerked at her throaty rasp, her eager response stripping his defenses. Before Amari, he had always maintained a distance with the women he took to bed, refusing to give himself completely because such devotion would only lead to the same vulnerability that had ultimately doomed his father. He’d vowed never to expose himself to such weakness. Yet the beautiful creature, kissing him with such unbidden passion, threatened to make a mockery of his oath. His resistance hung on the sharpened edge of a master sword smith’s blade.

Who was she? Why did she stir his dragon’s need to claim? What kind of creature are you.

Hmm?

Your designation?

You already know.

He stilled. She couldn’t be a sheep. His dragon would never wish to bond with an herbivore. Her actions didn’t even correspond with sheep characteristics. Why keep up the pretense? Why would she…lie? His teeth grazed down her neck. We both know that’s not true. Tell me.

It doesn’t matter.

Their bond fluttered; she didn’t like him questioning her.

He took a short step back, breaking all contact. Yes, it does.

Her eyes clouded, and she crossed her arms. A healthy blush filled her cheeks, as if she just now realized what they had been doing. Her teeth worried her bottom lip, swollen from his kisses, and he resisted the urge to brush his thumb across the plump flesh.

He dropped their link and the familiar loneliness he’d lived with for over a century returned. Although he had grown accustomed to sensing her emotions in the short amount of time he’d been eavesdropping, he ignored his beast’s badgering to reestablish the connection. Dragons were loyal creatures, willing to sacrifice everything for loved ones, so lies and distrust were unacceptable.

Reaching forward, he cupped her chin. I don’t know why you’re hiding something from me, but I’m very powerful and can protect you. Are you in danger?

She fidgeted and glanced away.

Is that how you got hurt? Someone beat you? Although he had no logical explanation for the protectiveness surging through him, over the course of his long life, he’d learned some responses simply defied understanding. For some reason, this little shifter brought forth the dominant traits of his beast, and rational or not, he would take care of her, even if that meant protecting her from herself.

"You must tell me, mon est draco," he said in a gentler tone.

Unable to keep his distance, he moved in close, crowding her. The musky scent of her arousal seared his lungs as he kept her pressed against the rock. Trapped within his grasp, she wouldn’t escape him—or his beast—ever.

Although he fortified his barricades to ensure his dragon stayed caged, he couldn’t blame his animal for wishing to possess her. Dragons needed a bond mate to live a fulfilled life. Males especially were possessive and single-minded when it came to their mates, and his beast had chosen this redheaded throwback…to be theirs.

He longed to touch her, and seeing no reason to deny himself, buried his fingers into her short tresses. Soft silk greeted his callused pads. Even her choppy haircut displayed defiance.

Her tongue ran across her bottom lip, and his dragon fixated on the pink flesh, clouding his mind. Only the strongest of predators could attract his beast.

What are you? he demanded again. His acute hearing acknowledged the stutter of her heart before it accelerated to a hummingbird’s pace.

Sheep, she answered in a drawn-out breath.

He brushed his nose along her neck where he would someday leave his claiming mark if he mated her, inhaling her spicy scent. She didn’t even smell like an herbivore. As an alpha, no mere sheep would ever call to his dragon in this way.

Not true, he murmured. Who are you afraid of?

She shook her head. No one.

He caught a lock of her hair and rubbed the glossy strands between his thumb and forefinger. Her refusal to confide in him chafed his pride, especially after melding with her during the healing session. Such a link required trust on an intimate level. Yet she acted as if they had never experienced such a connection.

Jaxon’s brows furrowed. When he had first joined with her, she had trusted him enough to shed all but the grand barrier hiding her animal. He had entered many minds throughout his life, but navigating past Amari’s shields had been different…as if she’d never done it before. Shifters innately accepted their mother’s and father’s mental touch at infancy, and as they grew, each parent taught defensive techniques and showed their young how to bond with their animal to ensure a successful transition during Trinity.

The hair on Jaxon’s neck rose. The more he considered his deep link with Amari, the more he believed she had never been mentally touched—neither her, nor her animal—on any level, including the higher familial threads.

Worry scurried across his mind. If Amari didn’t know how to call her beast, her transition would be dangerous. Without direction, her animal wouldn’t know how to exert itself beyond Amari’s mental walls.

He reached for her mind. She accepted him without hesitation and with the eagerness of one who had been denied such contact. With a silent curse, he withdrew.

What kind of childhood had she endured without cerebral stimulation? And why would her parents have denied her access to her animal?

A slow rage seeped into his bloodstream, fortifying his muscles. He might have healed her body, but with Trinity approaching, she would soon face her greatest challenge. His hands settled on her shoulders. "Who are your parents, mon est draco?"

She looked up. The sorrow pooling in her expressive depths stabbed his heart. I don’t know.

She fidgeted under his scrutiny.

Unwilling to let her experience such distress, he reestablished their link and flooded their path with reassurance.

She nodded slightly, as if acknowledging his connection, and her breathing steadied. His eyes crinkled in amusement. She didn’t trust him enough to confide about her past, but on an unconscious level, accepting his mental touch bespoke of her faith in his ability to protect her.

He squared his shoulders and stepped away, his decision made. He would take charge of her wellbeing by teaching her how to connect with her animal. Failure was out of the question because if he didn’t succeed, he would lose her during transition. Both his beast and the man refused to be denied what was theirs to safeguard and cherish—and someday claim as their own.

Come, he ordered.

Amari fell in step behind him. Where are we going?

Back to the caravan.

That will take hours, she whined.

He stopped and turned so suddenly, she almost plowed into him.

Not if you’re flying on dragonback, he replied with a grin.

CHAPTER 2

BREADCRUMBS

Nolan banked to the left while Bastaine’s ocher dragon shadowed his right wing. The crisp air glided over Nolan’s beast, soothing the apprehension inside him. Dark smoke funneled skyward, marring what would have been a beautiful morning.

He topped the mountain peak and dove toward the ravaged meadow, his gut twisting at what he saw. Instead of a peaceful glade marked by foraging deer, a massive funeral pyre towered in the center. The stale tang of blood and stench of death antagonized his dragon, but he comforted his animal with a mental touch as they descended.

Just as their beasts were about to land, both he and Bastaine transformed into men and touched ground with booted feet.

Many survived, Bastaine mumbled through their mental link. Their wagon tracks continue west.

Nolan scanned the destruction. Clues to what happened would be hard to find. The trampled earth would not be forthcoming and any evidence on the bodies had been burned away. Good thing his cadre brother had an uncanny skill for unraveling the mysteries the land coveted.

Bastaine, what do you see?

Bastaine’s eyes flickered to the distinctive burnt orange shade of his dragon. He squared his shoulders and walked around the smoldering pyre. Scanning the charred remains, he pointed to a body wedged within the lumber. Rogues.

You sure?

A healthy shifter would have returned to his non-animal state upon death. This one is stuck in a semi-shift. So are many others.

How many?

Bastaine shrugged. Hard to say. Thirty or so.

Nolan blew out a breath, surveying the destruction with new eyes. Rogues weren’t known to travel in groups. The battle must have been intense.

Bastaine growled. "Several women and children are among