Airos

By Jennifer Wright

Zane has everything in his life under control and in order, but can he keep it that way when a young dragon is thrown into his life?

Zane was meant to be a warrior—end of story. Though he may not have had the most pleasant life living at the coven, he still loved being there. But the steadiness of his world came to a halt all within one day's events. A man he never saw coming has pushed the boundaries of what little normalcy he has, and learning of a secret love is just confusing him even more. Zane has never felt more torn on what he should be feeling...and for whom. Though if he assumed having two men plaguing his every waking thought was hard enough, learning of the danger his mother is in nearly has his head spinning off into another dimension.

The leader of the Drguns is threatening to take everything away from him, his best friend is slipping further and further away from him, and a little dragon is managing to get under his skin in more ways than one. Sorting out what he has to do, what he wants, and what's right for him will be the biggest challenge he's ever been faced with. Will he follow his heart or will he take the easy path...or is the easy path the right path to begin with?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pride Publishing
• Release date: Nov 15, 2013
• ISBN: 9781781848203

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A Totally Bound Publication

Airos

ISBN # 978-1-78184-820-3

©Copyright Jennifer Wright 2013

Cover Art by Posh Gosh ©Copyright October 2013

Edited by Rebecca Douglas

Totally Bound Publishing

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the publisher, Totally Bound Publishing.

Applications should be addressed in the first instance, in writing, to Totally Bound Publishing. Unauthorised or restricted acts in relation to this publication may result in civil proceedings and/or criminal prosecution.

The author and illustrator have asserted their respective rights under the Copyright Designs and Patents Acts 1988 (as amended) to be identified as the author of this book and illustrator of the artwork.

Published in 2013 by Totally Bound Publishing, Newland House, The Point, Weaver Road, Lincoln, LN6 3QN

Warning:

This book contains sexually explicit content which is only suitable for mature readers. This story has a heat rating of Totally Burning and a Sexometer of 2.

This story contains 188 pages, additionally there is also a free excerpt at the end of the book containing 11 pages.

Finding Home

AIROS

Jennifer Wright

Book three in the Finding Home series

Zane has everything in his life under control and in order, but can he keep it that way when a young dragon is thrown into his life?

Zane was meant to be a warrior—end of story. Though he may not have had the most pleasant life living at the coven, he still loved being there. But the steadiness of his world came to a halt all within one day’s events. A man he never saw coming has pushed the boundaries of what little normalcy he has, and learning of a secret love is just confusing him even more. Zane has never felt more torn on what he should be feeling…and for whom. Though, if he assumed having two men plaguing his every waking thought was hard enough, learning of the danger his mother is in nearly has his head spinning off into another dimension.

The leader of the Dráguns is threatening to take everything dear to him, his best friend is slipping further and further away from him, and a little dragon is managing to get under his skin in more ways than one. Sorting out what he has to do, what he wants and what’s right for him will be the biggest challenge he’s ever been faced with. Will he follow his heart or will he take the easy path…or is the easy path the right path to begin with?

Dedication

I’d like to dedicate this book to my Aunt Terri. You helped me so much in getting this series started, and I greatly appreciate it. Your feedback and encouragement mean a lot to me.

Prologue

One hundred and fifty years ago

Zane let the bundle of firewood in his arms drop to the ground. Grumbling to himself, he knelt down in front of the fireplace to stack the scattered logs.

Son, dear, you have to calm down some.

He glanced over to his mother, Silvianna, who busy preparing dinner. He doesn’t understand me. He never has!

She looked over to him, one eyebrow arched. Are you sure you want to raise your voice to me?

Zane bowed his head, staring guiltily at the stone floor. Sorry, Mamma, he just makes me so mad sometimes.

I know he does, love, but your father only wants what’s best for you.

He met her gaze and said, No, he doesn’t, he only wants what’s best for him. He started stacking the wood again with a little more force than needed. I’m not a farmer like him and he knows that, but he still expects me to follow in his footsteps.

His mother was at his side then, her hand coming down softly on his shoulder. Is that so bad?

After placing the last piece of lumber where it belonged, he stood and took her hands into his. No, Mamma, it’s not bad. But I’m not a farmer—I’m a fighter. Father knows this, but he doesn’t care.

Her worried eyes gazed up at him. Your father just wants you to settle down and find a mate. There’s nothing wrong with that.

There’s plenty wrong with it. I’ve already told him I don’t want to settle down. As for a mate…well, you know the answer to that one.

She brought her warm hand up to rest on his slightly cooler cheek. Loving another man will not stop you from having a family.

Zane sighed and closed his eyes. This was becoming pointless. She would always find a way to counteract his words, making everything reasonable. He knew she was torn between letting her son have his dreams and agreeing with her mate, Roum.

No, he said, tightening his hands around hers a little. Families don’t belong where I’m going.

I’ve heard of vampires having mates at the coven, why couldn’t you?

Having a mate is different than having a family. A child does not belong growing up around a bunch of warriors.

She smiled at him. You do want a family, though, don’t you?

He had no response for her, because if he told her yes she would try to convince him to stay. Deep down he’d dreamt of having a son, but he’d always pushed the thought aside. He wanted to be a warrior more than a father.

A tingling feeling in his gut had him going rigid.

What it is? his mother asked, concern lacing her words.

Zane quickly made his way over to the front door and threw it wide open. He’d been so angry that he’d lost track of time.

The sun, he spoke quietly. It’s about to rise.

The gasp from behind him told Zane that his mother was thinking the same thing he was—his father hadn’t returned home yet. His heart raced in his chest as he ran from the tiny cottage and into the field. Cutting through the tall callive grass was the quickest way to the woods, just beyond which lay the grazing field where his father should be. The thin blue reeds of the wild foliage whipped against his bare arms, but he ignored the stinging pain. The building panic in his chest had him running faster than he ever had before.

Why was his father still out there? Did the damn vampire not realize the sun would soon be cresting the horizon, leaving him exposed to its deadly rays?

As Zane reached the tree line, he begged for his legs to move faster. He knew he was practically flying through the trees, but Zane felt as if he was barely moving. Thoughts of his and his father’s last words to each other flickered through his mind.

I just don’t understand why you can’t stay here, Zane.

This isn’t my life, Father, it’s yours.

"This is our life. I didn’t build it for just me and your mother…I built it for you as well. Why can’t you just be happy with it?"

I will be happy…when I get out of here.

Zane resisted the shudder that threatened to slow him down. The memory of the stricken look on his father’s face was now like ice in his veins. Those were the last words Zane had spoken before he had stormed out of their home. By the time he had returned, his father had already left to go care for the animals like he did every night.

And now here was Zane, putting every ounce of energy into reaching his father before the sun did.

He burst out from the cover of the woods and into the open field. The light of the morning had slowly started to fill the sky and was growing more vibrant with every heartbeat. Coming to a halt, he searched the area for his father. Zane’s breath caught when he spotted the lone mare without her rider.

He rushed over and took hold of the horse’s reins. He quickly observed her, searching for any sign that might tell him where his father was, but he found nothing.

Father! he shouted, praying that the man was still close by.

He caught the sound of another horse and turned around just in time to see his mother come barreling out from the trees. She looked to him, fear and panic written across her face.

Where is he? she cried out.

I don’t know. He waited until she was by his side then handed the mare’s reins over to her—his natural vampire speed surpassed that of a horse, so the horse was no good to him. Here, take her. I want you to head east then circle back around and go home.

What? No! I want to search for him.

Mamma, do you see the sky? When Father comes home he’s going to be in a lot of pain, and you are going to need to be there to feed him, all right?

She seemed as if she wanted to protest and cry at the same time, but in the end she took the reins from him. Find him, Zane. You find him and you bring him home.

He placed a comforting hand on her leg and said, I will, Mamma. Giving her leg a light squeeze, he then stepped back. Now go.

Nudging her heels into her own horse’s sides, she took off.

I promise I’ll find him.

He searched the entire day and returned home at nightfall…alone.

Chapter One

Present day

Boek sighed in relief when the horse he was riding finally came to a stop. Not wanting to get kicked, he quickly scooted back as the rider in front of him shifted to dismount. He’d learned early on that the Drágun he rode with could care less if Bo was struck by the heel of his boot as the man dismounted. Bo was even pretty sure that the jerk had done it on purpose the first time, but he just let it go like everything else. There was nothing he could do about it, so why bother—he was nothing but a lowly cook at Lord Gravaick’s castle.

Bo wanted to snort at the thought of the leader of the Dráguns insisting he be referred to as Lord. He was anything but. He was a disgrace to the entire dragon race, but he was nevertheless their leader. At one time the dragons had been a peaceful people. They’d lived in harmony with the fellow dwellers of Pavarus—the vampires, humans and mage folk. All had been well under their previous ruler, until Gravaick. The man hated anyone who wasn’t a dragon, more specifically anyone who wasn’t a Drágun—they were all he cared about.

Since Dráguns were such powerful creatures, Gravaick had made it a law that every Drágun had to join his army and fight against anyone lesser than them—which was everybody.

And that was how Bo came to be residing in that bastard’s castle. Nikolai, his brother, was a Drágun. Since Nikolai and Bo had no other family, Nikolai had insisted Bo come with him—kind of. For reasons unknown to Bo, Nikolai didn’t want anyone to know that they were brothers, so after a month of serving as one of Gravaick’s warriors, Nikolai had organized for Bo to join the castle as a servant—it was the only way for them to be together.

So, for the past hundred years, Bo had had to bear only seeing his brother once a month when Nikolai snuck down to his chambers at night. There were also the rare occasions of a brief glance if they happened to pass in the hallways.

Bo missed his brother desperately. He missed the days when they lived in the little village of Falfolk. Their parents had died shortly after Bo was born, so it had always been just the two of them. Nikolai had never told him of how they died, and that irritated him to no end, but since Bo hadn’t really known his parents, the fight for an answer faded. Nikolai, though, had done a wonderful job raising him and Bo couldn’t be more grateful. Nikolai had been his father, his mother, a brother and a best friend. They’d always had so much fun together. He remembered that there was always laughing. Even in some of the gloomiest times, Nikolai would find a way to put a smile on Bo’s face.

Now, Bo couldn’t even remember the last time they’d laughed together.

He knew that Nikolai meant well, and his brother had risked a lot getting him into the castle, but if Nikolai only knew…

Bo’s features had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. The few women of the castle referred to him as adorable. He was a mere five foot seven with a small frame, a heart-shaped face, short dark brown hair, amber eyes and full lips—he was delicate to say the least. If it wasn’t for a certain outward appendage between his legs, he could be a friggin’ woman. All right, maybe not a woman, but he was definitely pretty. He did have some muscle to him and his abs were well defined, but ultimately he looked more like a boy than a man—even though he was a hundred and sixteen years old. Nikolai said he resembled their mother in a lot of ways. It was the closest thing Bo had to knowing her, but it didn’t do him any good at the castle. There were very few women residing there, yet there were just over a hundred warriors. Gravaick rarely allowed the men to leave to seek out a wench and sate their lust, and Bo knew what the poor women of the castle went through because of it.

Bo had gone through it a few times himself, but those were days he didn’t like to think about and refused to mention to Nikolai. If his brother knew about the times when men would sneak into his room late at night…well, it would tear Nikolai apart. The guilt alone would surely be the end of him. Besides, ever since one of Bo’s intruders had had the bright idea of trying to force Bo to suck his cock—only to have Bo nearly bite the thing off—the guys had decided to steer clear of his room.

Not all of the Dráguns were bad, though, but the ones who were treated him as a lowly servant. The abuse had lessened and was no longer as terrifying since he’d stood up to them. He was more than capable of dealing with the verbal lashings, put-downs and being pushed, kicked and hit. Anything was better than the late-night visits.

And right now he was getting a lovely dose of that servant treatment.

The rider he was with dismounted then grabbed Bo by the arm and jerked him off the horse. Bo let out an unmanly grunt when he hit the ground, his knees screaming as shooting pain coursed through them. The wool bag that covered his head was whipped off and Bo winced as the bright midday sun blinded him. He hated wearing that thing, but Gravaick was very cautious, and anyone leaving the castle who wasn’t a Drágun had to wear one. Ever since Gravaick had declared war on the vampires, he had been living in hiding. And if a person couldn’t see where he was going or where he was coming from, then Gravaick’s location would remain hidden.

It was a great strategy, Bo would give the asshole that much, but it was a pain for someone like him who had to travel to Hollon once a month to gather supplies. He’d spend the entire morning on the back of a horse blind as a bat—it made him terribly dizzy.

Get up, Callex snarled.

Bo glared up at the Drágun with pure hatred in his eyes, but it was lost on the man. Callex was ignoring him as he went about tying the stallion to a nearby tree. Maliqus already had his horse tied up, the large wagon still secured to the animal. Normally, one wouldn’t just casually leave their rides on the edge of town unsupervised, but the red ropes that reined the horses declared them as belonging to Gravaick, and nobody dared to steal from their ruler. It was the same for the cloak around Bo’s shoulders—the red stitching along the hem told everyone that he was a servant of Gravaick’s and he was not to be messed with. Those little, thin red strands were the only thing that kept him protected, seeing as his guards were now abandoning him like they’d always done.

Callex and Maliqus were supposed to follow him around as he gathered supplies, keeping him safe. As usual, though, they were quick to leave him and head to the nearest tavern to drink and screw as many women as they could.

Bo stood and wiped off his pants—the knees now darkened with dirt. He sighed to himself as he regarded the soiled linen. He’d just washed them three days ago.

Looks like I’ll be doing my wash a few days early tonight.

When he glanced back up, he noticed that Callex and Maliqus were already leaving.

Hey, he called out. You haven’t given me any coin yet.

Callex stopped and slowly turned back to him. Bo swallowed hard at the stern look on Callex’s face, the man’s dark gaze sending a shudder through his body. The solid black eyes of the Dráguns had always been disturbing to him, except for Nikolai’s—it was just another part of his brother that he accepted. Maybe it was because he’d grown up with Nikolai. Maybe it was because Nikolai was actually a good man. Even when Nikolai’s eyes turned red, it didn’t bother Bo. But he was always disturbed by the other warriors’ eyes. Somehow it was just different.

Callex glanced to Maliqus and grinned. Grabbing a small pouch at his waist, he then reached inside and pulled out a handful of coins and tossed them to the ground before Bo. Bo watched in frustration as the silver and gold pieces scattered in the dirt.

Jerks.

Callex chuckled. Spend it wisely, beautiful.

Bo curled his lip back with disdain at the pet name. He was a man for crying out loud—not a woman. He glared at Callex and Maliqus as they walked away laughing.

With another sigh, he got back down on his knees and began gathering up the coins. Despite the freezing ground and winter month, there’d been no snow and Bo was thankful for that as he collected the money.

Standing again, he tucked the coins safely into his pants pocket. Not even bothering to try to wipe away the dirt from his knees this time, Bo pulled his wool cloak tighter around him then headed into town.

He really did like his visits here. The people were wonderful and kind and he wished he could see them more than once a month. He enjoyed the smells and sights as everyone bustled around about their lives—children playing in the streets, women laughing as they chatted amongst each other. Even the sound of the men grunting hard at work was like music to his ears. It was an exciting adventure every time he came to Hollon.

His dizzy ride was soon forgotten as he came up to his first stop. With a happy smile, he greeted the woman behind the bread table.

Hello, Maryl.

Maryl’s smile was wide and genuine. Oh, darling Bo, it’s good to see you again. She came around the table and treated him to one of her warm hugs. Has it been a month already? she asked, her voice bright and joyful.

Yes, it has, he replied, her jubilant nature warming him as her hug did.

Maryl cupped his cheek and graced him with a loving, motherly look. Dearest child, you are as sweet as ever, I still have yet to figure out why you would ever want to be working with that evil man.

If she only knew.

She patted his cheek. Well, love, will it be the same as usual?

Bo smiled and nodded. Yes, please.

Maryl turned to a boy who stood next to the bread cart behind her. Well, you heard him, go on now. The boy inclined his head then began putting together Bo’s order.

Is everything going well with you? Bo asked her.

The woman beamed brighter. Oh, yes, my daughter just told me yesterday that she’s with child.

That’s wonderful, he said. Please tell her that I said congratulations. He only hoped that Maryl’s daughter was having a girl. Even though only a couple of males out of every village were born with that cursed Drágun gene, they were still born, then carted off to serve Gravaick when they reached manhood and shifted. It was a curse, not a blessing like it used to be. Being a Drágun used to mean you were the protector of your village—your family. Everyone looked up to them with awe and love.

Now, they were feared. If a Drágun came to your village it meant that they were there at Gravaick’s bidding, and that was never a good thing. Now, after giving birth to a boy, the mother would weep, already mourning the possibility of her son being taken away. It was now a tragedy the day a man turned into a Drágun.

Bo pushed the depressing thoughts aside and made idle