Owned by The Dragons : Dragon Menage Romance

By Cara Wade

She's found love in all the wrong places. Now, she'll find it two-fold.

Samara comes from a long line of powerful witches. She is a Necromancer, one who can summon the Dead. When she finds out that Lex, her demon-shifter boyfriend is plotting to use her powers to dominate both the Living and the Dead, she is sent by the High Priestess of her coven to hide out in a small town in the middle of the desert. There she stays with Dora, an empath who runs a Bed and Breakfast. While there, she meets two male dragon shifters, best friends since the Dark Ages. As Samara seeks a way to stop Lex, she finds herself falling deeply in love with both of them. Meanwhile, Lex will stop at nothing to find Samara and bend her to his will.

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Standalone Romance Stories With No Cliffhanger!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Cara Wade
• Release date: Feb 19, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386724605

Book preview

Owned by The Dragons

PROLOGUE

SAMARA:

S amara, my little goose , I will need you to summon one of your Dead for me, Lex said lightly. I frowned. I should never have done it the first time , I thought. A few weeks before, I had summoned the spirit of my mother. I had, like any girl in a long-term relationship, wanted my boyfriend to meet her. I realized then that maybe I had made a mistake in showing my demon-shifter boyfriend how strong my powers as a Necromancer were. We were standing in the luxurious living room in Lex’s penthouse apartment. It was sleekly decorated in black leather modern style furniture and gold accent pieces. A Goya was perfectly poised above the black and white mosaic fireplace, which held a roaring fire, as was Lex’s wont. We had just returned from an extravagant dinner at one of the most extravagant restaurants in the city—oysters, champagne, filet mignon, a decadent seven-layer cake. Lex spoiled me rotten. 

Again? Why? I asked, trying to keep the alarm out of my voice. Lex was several thousand years old, however he looked to be in his early thirties. His looks were model-level gorgeous. He had angular features, a straight nose, and a razor-sharp jaw. He had thick, dark black hair and deep brown eyes that he used to hide their true red glow. His teeth were white, perfect, even if his canines had a bit of a sharp point to them. 

I need a little... help on something, he replied vaguely. My eyes instantly narrowed.

What kind of help? I said. He looked at me uneasily. It was obvious he didn’t want to tell me.

Does it matter? he said. He was getting cagey. Something was definitely off. I saw a sharp red gleam flit across his warm brown eyes.

I does, in fact, I told my boyfriend. I kept my voice light and even, turning my gaze to the large floor-to-ceiling window in his penthouse apartment and looking out over the city. It was night, and the sky was ink-black. The city lights glowed golden and red, lighting up the buildings like an anthill fairyland. I could see my face in the reflection; pale, worried. I relaxed my jaw, hoping that it would be enough. 

It’s no concern of yours, Samara, he replied. Just summon a few for me, please? The way he said it, it sounded as though he thought it were nothing—a simple favor, like borrowing a cup of sugar. Warning bells were going off inside of me. This was wrong. What could he possibly want? Raising the Dead was not a simple thing. It took real power, and had massive consequences when misused. 

Actually, any of the Dead that I summon are most certainly my concern. I continued, slowly, moving forward with caution. Being a Necromancer comes with much responsibility. You know what happens when a Necromancer abuses her powers. His face was a pale mask, poorly hiding his...fury? He walked over to me briskly, his studied ease having vanished.

You did it once, he snapped, referring to the time when I had summoned my mother in front of him, which was not really an abuse of my powers.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have, I remarked. But I thought that you wanted to meet my mother.

I wish to speak with her again, he said, continuing to push his agenda. Did he really think that I was so stupid? Well, evidently. My mother would be one of the strongest Dead, having been a powerful clairvoyant in life. I stepped away from him. He closed the distance, placing a large, warm hand on my shoulder. He attempted to rub my shoulder, instead pulling at the black satin dress that I wore. He ran his finger over the diamond choker that he had given me and looked me in the eye. He smiled.

Please, Samara, he said. I have questions for her.

What sort of questions?

Ones concerning life and death. I frowned. He had no concern for either of those things. He was a demon. He could not, technically, die. At least, not like a human could. I cursed myself for not at least reading a bit of demonology. It would certainly have come in handy in this relationship. 

Tell me exactly what you are going to do, I said, pretending that I was being coy, when, in fact, I was highly suspicious. I placed a hand lightly on his chest.

No. His answer was blunt.

Then I won’t summon any Dead, I replied evenly. 

His fist connected with my face in what felt like a horrible explosion. I had not seen it coming. As pain throbbed like a heartbeat within the skin of my cheek, I looked at Lex in shock. This was not what my kind, caring boyfriend would do. His good-looking face was twisted in dark fury. I had never seen him this way. Fear pooled in my stomach in sickening waves. I was one of the most powerful witches in the world, and yet...facing my demon-shifter boyfriend, I was frightened.

How dare you disobey me? he yelled, his voice booming. Who was he to demand my obedience?

Obey you? I replied weakly, in an attempt to regain my standing. His eyes widened. His hand was moving again, but I was so shocked that I did not move fast enough. His open palm collided with my face. I fell to the ground, limp, like a rag doll. I lay there on the cold black tiles for a moment in shock. Was this really happening? I picked myself up and off of the ground. I studied Lex for a moment. I saw none of the remorse that I had expected. Turning, I fled, my heels clicking on the tile floor.

I should have expected no less of a demon.

CHAPTER ONE

SAMARA:

Surrounded by the flames of five large black taper candles, I used my athame dagger to begin to build the protective circle, using the shiny silver blade to draw out a pentacle on the floor. It was around four feet, so