Dragonfire

By B.J. McCall

When the nights are Dragonfire hot, human and dragon may bond in a way neither expects.

Captured: Captured and tossed in an aviary, Zira discovers she is the tyrant Targus's new pet. The key to her escape lies with her keeper, a hunky human with a gentle touch. Dragon Keeper Laros has no idea the dragon he's been tasked to train is also the woman who's haunting his nights...

Chosen: A thousand years ago two dragon clans went to war over a cache of gold. To stop their war, a sorcerer cast a spell, hiding the treasure. According to legend the location of the gold will be revealed when the chosen is bonded with her dragon mate. Born with the mark of the dragon on her hip, Karis Nordrath is heralded as the chosen, but the only dragon that stirs Karis' fire is her bodyguard, Rett Aurumon.

Covert: Rogue dragons are committing crimes, and anti-shifter activists are demanding action. The good dragons have come up with a plan. Undercover dragon warrior Velka Krytt's mission is to bring the Rogues to justice. Law enforcement has a different plan. Undercover human cop Aric Exeter's mission is to bust the Vigilante organization. When their missions collide, Velka and Aric must join forces to survive. Things are getting dragonfire hot!

Covenant: Thanks to a mysterious covenant, Byrne Tregaron and Livia Hazac will be bonded for life. Livia is getting the mate of her dreams, a dragon who doesn't know she exists. Byrne doesn't want a Hazac for a mate, and for him keeping the covenant is a matter of honor, not desire. She has one shot to capture her dragon on her terms. She attends Byrne's bachelor party with seduction in mind. One night. Her way.

Caught: For Adatha Krytt there is only one dragon, but he has vanished, leaving her to pursue her dream of becoming a dragon warrior. Duty is everything until the day comes when Trynt's quest becomes Adatha's mission. To catch a thief, she must track down the dragon she loves. Can she fulfill her mission without breaking her heart?

Publisher's Note: The individual stories in this anthology have been previously released in E-Book format.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Changeling Press
• Release date: Feb 16, 2020
• ISBN: 9780809902613

Book preview

Dragonfire

B.J. McCall

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2020 B.J. McCall

BIN: 08099-02615

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Changeling Press LLC

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www.ChangelingPress.com

Editor: Sheri Ross Fogarty

Cover Artist: Karen Fox

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Table of Contents

Dragonfire

Captured

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Epilogue

Chosen

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Covert

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Covenant

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Caught

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Epilogue

B.J. McCall

Dragonfire

B.J. McCall

When the nights are Dragonfire hot, human and dragon may bond in a way neither expects.

Captured: Captured and tossed in an aviary, Zira discovers she is the tyrant Targus’s new pet. The key to her escape lies with her keeper, a hunky human with a gentle touch. Dragon Keeper Laros has no idea the dragon he’s been tasked to train is also the woman who’s haunting his nights…

Chosen: A thousand years ago two dragon clans went to war over a cache of gold. To stop their war, a sorcerer cast a spell, hiding the treasure. According to legend the location of the gold will be revealed when the chosen is bonded with her dragon mate. Born with the mark of the dragon on her hip, Karis Nordrath is heralded as the chosen, but the only dragon that stirs Karis’ fire is her bodyguard, Rett Aurumon.

Covert: Rogue dragons are committing crimes, and anti-shifter activists are demanding action. The good dragons have come up with a plan. Undercover dragon warrior Velka Krytt’s mission is to bring the Rogues to justice. Law enforcement has a different plan. Undercover human cop Aric Exeter’s mission is to bust the Vigilante organization. When their missions collide, Velka and Aric must join forces to survive. Things are getting dragonfire hot!

Covenant: Thanks to a mysterious covenant, Byrne Tregaron and Livia Hazac will be bonded for life. Livia is getting the mate of her dreams, a dragon who doesn’t know she exists. Byrne doesn’t want a Hazac for a mate, and for him keeping the covenant is a matter of honor, not desire. She has one shot to capture her dragon on her terms. She attends Byrne’s bachelor party with seduction in mind. One night. Her way.

Caught: For Adatha Krytt there is only one dragon, but he has vanished, leaving her to pursue her dream of becoming a dragon warrior. Duty is everything until the day comes when Trynt’s quest becomes Adatha’s mission. To catch a thief, she must track down the dragon she loves. Can she fulfill her mission without breaking her heart?

Captured

B.J. McCall

The tyrant Targus has a new pet dragon.

Captured and tossed in an aviary, Zira discovers she is Targus’s new pet. The key to her escape lies with her keeper, a hunky human with a gentle touch who has no idea she can shift.

To please his master, Dragon Keeper Laros must make the new dragon fly. Zira shifts to her human form to seduce her keeper, convincing Laros his midnight visitor is his reward.

When the nights are Dragonfire hot, keeper and dragon may bond in a way neither of them expects.

Chapter One

Zira whipped her tail, banking to the right. Chasing the distinctive chime of golden bells, she flapped her wings and circled above the tall trees. A member of the dragon clan of Aurumon, Zira had inherited the ability to sense gold. Whenever she was within a hundred feet of gold, a tingle ran the length of her spiked spine and her scales glowed.

Again, she heard the alluring tinkle. Zira snapped her head around and spotted the shining gold bells hanging from the limb of a large oak. For centuries, trekking monks hung the bells as tribute to the dragons of the Fire Mountains in exchange for safe passage through the ancient mountain passes. Now hikers and climbers from all points of the globe continued the tradition, but the bells were rarely made of gold. Collecting real gold bells was a game between Zira and her friends, and the competition was stiff.

The game began with a challenge, and everyone in her group of friends had already collected bells. Zira was determined not to come up short.

She circled above the great oak, surveying the area for signs of Brixan guards. This deep in the forest between the Fire Mountains and the city state of Brixa, Zira had to be cautious. Targus, the tyrant ruling Brixa, had turned the once friendly humans of the small country against the dragon clans inhabiting the mountains.

Scales glowing as bright as the morning sun, Zira flew around the oak tree. She swooped low to snatch a coveted bell with the talons of her right foot. Something wrapped around her leg. Caught by an unseen snare, Zira flapped her wings and kicked her foot, but thin lines tightened around her talons. She whipped her tail, thrashing to break free.

A voice rang out. Shoot it!

Taking a breath, she turned, aimed, and shot fire at the man holding a rifle. He screamed and dropped the weapon as his clothes caught fire. A sharp pain pierced the scales of her neck. She swung around and spewed flames, taking out another aggressor.

She flapped her wings. Fly! Fly!

Over the grunts and the swearing, Zira heard a harsh male voice. Shoot it! Shoot it!

Stabbing pain pierced her neck and chest. Needle sharp metal penetrated her right shoulder.

Fly! Fly! Her vision blurring, Zira fought to fly, willing her wings to flap. Barely able to raise her right wing, she thrashed, using her fire and her tail as weapons. As she lost wing power, fear laced Zira’s heart and raced down her spine.

Hold it! Don’t let it get away!

Zira kicked, but the snare held, then her left wing went numb and folded. She fell to the ground, hitting hard on her chest and belly.

It’s down. Throw the net!

Zira’s eyes fluttered, then darkness and silence overtook her.

Chapter Two

Fear slid down Laros’ spine as he stepped through the pressurized double-gates, the only entrance to the aviary. The three-acre dragon cage was surrounded by a force field high enough to allow its occupant to fly. So far the dragon had lain on its belly, snoring loudly and blowing smoke out of its nostrils.

Laros had been called before Protector Targus and ordered to rectify the situation. Every few hours since the dragon was placed in the aviary, Targus had appeared on his balcony eager to see his new acquisition fly. He stood there now, watching and waiting. Laros had no choice but to wake up the beast.

Sweat trickling down his back, Laros gripped the cattle prod and approached the scaled creature. Measuring twenty feet from its large head to the tip of its tail, the size of it was staggering. Its legs were thick and its big feet were tipped with lethal looking talons. When one glittering tawny eye popped opened, Laros jumped back.

His heart pounded and sweat trickled down his back.

He’d heard many tales about the dragons of the cloud-shrouded peaks of the Fire Mountains. Some said the dragons had magical powers while others denied the claim. Laros just wanted the damn thing to fly. Then the Master would reward him.

Laros hadn’t been given a reward in a long time. Too damn long.

If the creature didn’t fly, Protector Targus would punish him. Gritting his teeth, Laros strode up to the beast. Dragon, the Protector wants to see you fly.

The creature blew smoke around Laros’ legs.

He raised the cattle prod. Don’t make me use this.

Touch me with that thing and I’ll fry you.

Laros gasped, his eyes darting around for the source of the voice.

The dragon’s lips moved. Toss it away.

Stunned, Laros stared at the creature. His heart raced, the acid taste of fear rising from his belly to his throat. It wasn’t possible. Not only had the dragon talked, it had spoken his language.

The dragon raised its horned head and looked at him. Its eyes were bright and its mouth wide. Are you deaf?

At the sight of the dragon’s large teeth, Laros swallowed the hard lump in his throat. He coughed and hoped the dragon didn’t see his trembling knees. I didn’t know dragons could talk.

The dragon snorted, blowing smoke in Laros’ face. But can humans comprehend?

I understand you, Laros said, surprised by the dragon’s deep, but pleasant sounding voice.

Let’s try again. Toss the prod or fry.

Laros chucked the cattle prod. It landed about ten feet away.

Fire shot out of the dragon’s mouth, melting the dual-pronged prod, burning the grass and blasting Laros’ face and arms with heat. Laros wanted to run as far and fast as his feet would take him, but despite the years that had passed, the memory of his last punishment was still fresh. Laros had vowed never to return to that tiny dark cell.

Where am I?

Laros glanced up at the palace, his gaze focused on the high balcony where Protector Targus stood, watching and judging. You’re in Protector Targus’ garden.

An invisible force field arched over the palace gardens, allowing the dragon enough space to fly, forage and rest. The perfectly cut lawn was surrounded on three sides by tall trees and flowering scrubs. A pool with a massive fountain graced the center. The dragon lay near the fountain.

Targus of Brixa?

Protector Targus of Brixa, Laros corrected.

The dragon looked around. How did I get here?

You were captured and brought in by helicopter yesterday. If you don’t fly, my master will be angry. The sun is going down. The master has ordered me to flood the gardens with bright lights until you fly. It’s wise not to anger Protector Targus.

The dragon reared up on its back legs, opened its bat-like wings with a snap and launched into the air. Wings flapping, the dragon flew straight up and slammed into the force field. Its wings folded and Laros feared it would fall to the ground. The dragon’s tail whipped back and forth and its wings flapped. Righting itself, the dragon flew around, its scales flashing like a million gold coins, testing the limits of the force field.

Then the dragon flew at the balcony where Protector Targus stood and breathed fire. The blast hit the force field and flames shot in all directions, but the barrier held. The dragon flew around and attacked the energy shield again, to no avail.

Instead of attacking the barrier a third time, the dragon landed gracefully on the manicured lawn directly in front of Laros. In awe of the magnificent creature who dared to attack the master, Laros reached out to touch it.

The dragon lowered its head.

Laros ran his hand down its long nose. Its scales were smooth and warm. I’ll never hurt you, he said, awed by the amazing creature.

Can you say the same for Targus?

Do not displease the master, for he is quick to punish.

The dragon snorted, blowing smoke. Its breath was hot. The dragons call him the tyrant of Brixa.

Tyrant was an apt description of the man who had led a military coup and taken over the city state of Brixa the year Laros was born. Those who dared to oppose the Protector were put to death.

Laros looked up at his master. Resplendent in a medal-laden uniform, Protector Targus raised his hand, acknowledging Laros. From this distance, the master’s long white hair was visible, but not his cold blue eyes.

Laros prayed the master was pleased and he would be rewarded.

Who are you?

Protector Targus left the balcony and Laros turned his attention to the dragon. I am Laros, your keeper.

You have experience with dragons?

I have worked in the palace stables for years. I know nothing about dragons. You are my first.

The dragon looked up at the sky. The barrier? How did Targus do it?

It’s an energy field of some kind. I don’t know how it works.

How do you get out?

Through pressurized gates. They’re not large enough for a dragon.

You said I was dropped in. How did I get through the barrier?

It was initialized afterward. You’re trapped. Laros felt sorry for the dragon. Do you have a name?

Zira. The dragon flicked the end of its tail into the air. You do not fear me?

Only a fool would not fear a dragon.

Yet you are my keeper. Was it by choice?

I am a thrall. I do as the master commands.

The dragon’s eyes flashed. You’re a slave?

All my life, he said, holding out his arms to show the dragon the chain link tattoos encircling his wrists. We are marked for life.

I have heard that over half the population of Brixa is enslaved and that many died after Targus took control.

Laros noted the sympathetic tone in the dragon’s voice. That is true. If you fly every day the master will reward me. If you don’t, he’ll punish both of us.

Your master is a fool. My father will be searching for me. When he finds me he’ll destroy this place and your master’s palace.

Laros had learned the foolishness of hope. No one would come to free the thralls of Brixa. Until he does, I’ll take care of you. Are you thirsty or hungry? I have fresh water and vegetables. Come, I’ll show you the way.

When I was flying I saw a large metal building.

The master had a hangar built inside the aviary for you to sleep in. The door is large enough for a dragon, wing span and tail.

How thoughtful.

Laros led the dragon down a walkway that had been widened in anticipation of the dragon’s arrival. The hangar door was open. I was told that dragons like to sleep in caves with dry leaves and brush for bedding. The straw is clean. I’ll muck it out every day.

The dragon snorted.

Laros figured his assignment as dragon keeper was due to his experience with horses and the strength of his back. He’d been working for days, sunup to sundown, preparing for the dragon’s arrival. Right now, he wanted nothing more than to rest.

Outside the hangar was a long table laden with various fruits and vegetables that Laros had hauled into the aviary and washed for the dragon’s consumption. Next to the table was a trough with fresh water.

I was told dragons like fruits and vegetables, so I’ve brought you a selection of what is available. If you have a preference, I’ll do my best to get what you like. The corn is sweet and the lettuce and carrots are fresh from the garden.

I like bread. Cinnamon bread.

I’ll go to the palace kitchens and bring back what I can find.

Can I walk with you to the gates?

Laros nodded and began walking. The dragon remained at his side. He reached up and touched its neck, running his hand over its scales. Your scales are smooth and warm.

Thank you. Your hands are gentle.

We turn here. The gates are up ahead.

When they reached the gates, Laros told the dragon to stay back. I have to be scanned before I can exit.

Wouldn’t a pass key be simpler?

Thralls have implanted chips.

Implanted on your body?

Behind our left ear. It’s the way we’re controlled. If we enter an unauthorized area, the guards are notified and we are punished. He recalled the pain of the laser whips and the absolute darkness of his tiny cell.

Laros, have you tried to escape?

He heard the compassion in the dragon’s voice, and found it odd that the creature was more sympathetic than the free citizens of Brixa. He stepped onto the scanning plate. A useless endeavor. I was born a thrall. I will die a thrall.

The interlocking plates of the inner gate retracted, releasing a whoosh of air. He stepped through the arched gateway and waited for it to close. The inner gate sealed, then the outer gate opened.

He entered the palace kitchen. Prest, one of the cooks, approached Laros. The rest stopped working and huddled together. Except for the head chef who wasn’t present, the kitchen staff was comprised of thralls.

We’ve heard the creature breathes fire, the red haired cook whispered. We heard it tried to attack the master. Is it true, Laros?

The creature is fierce and it breathes fire, Laros said. But it hasn’t eaten. I was thinking I would tempt its appetite with bread.

What kind of bread?

Laros thought it wiser not to tell the cook the dragon talked and had specifically requested cinnamon bread.

Can you give me a selection? Perhaps something sweet? I think the dragon is a female.

The cook’s eyes widened at that information. He looked at the huddled group and nodded his head. A boy scurried through a set of doors and came back with a large sack stuffed with bread.

We’ll bake or cook anything you’d like, dragon keeper. Just ask.

Laros understood the price was information. The master’s new pet had brought a bit of excitement into their lives. He accepted the bread.

The dragon has scales and long, lethal looking talons on its feet.

The boy gasped and covered his mouth with his hand.

I must go.

Laros hurried out of the kitchen and returned to the aviary. The dragon waited beyond the gates. He opened the bag.

The dragon lowered its head and sniffed. Smells good.

Let’s return to the hangar.

Laros placed his hand on the dragon’s neck and together they walked back to the hangar. He smiled. It wasn’t often he’d enjoyed his assigned tasks, but taking care of the dragon was far more thrilling than working with the horses.

He spread out the bread. Let me know what you like and the palace cooks will bake it for you.

The dragon sniffed the selection and scooped up a large loaf of bread with its tongue. Cinnamon bread. Delicious. You must compliment the cook.

After consuming another loaf, the dragon relaxed. It stretched out its long neck and laid its head on the ground.

You must be tired. It’s probably the tranquilizers.

The dragon snorted, blowing smoke.

I live upstairs in the far corner of the hangar, Laros said, pointing to a staircase on the side of the hangar. At the top of the stairs was a small deck with a folding chair and a door. That’s my door. See the bell hanging from the deck? If you need me, tap the bell with your nose.

When the aviary was completed, Laros had moved into the small apartment in the upper rear section of the hangar. His living space was minimally furnished, but comfortable, and for the first time in his life Laros had the privilege of privacy. Young male thralls lived in crowded, noisy barracks with common facilities. Despite the hard manual labor involved in maintaining the aviary, Laros often spent evenings on the small deck overlooking the expansive gardens, enjoying the solitude. Sharing a building with a fire-breathing dragon was preferable to living in the city barracks. For convenience, he had an inside window for keeping an eye on the dragon and an internal staircase for easy access to his charge.

As long as the dragon flew every day, Targus would be pleased and Laros would be rewarded.

If you require anything, all you have to do is ring the bell, Laros said. The sun is setting behind the mountains and darkness will soon fall. I will see you at sunrise. Sleep well, Zira.

Pleasant dreams, Laros.

Chapter Three

Zira watched her keeper walk up the flight of stairs and enter his living quarters. She lifted her head and looked at the distant snow-capped peaks of the Fire Mountains. As the sun disappeared behind the mountains the snow reflected the sunlight, turning the peaks a brilliant red. She thought of her parents, her brother and her home. A tear slid down Zira’s cheek.

She shook her massive head, forcing back the tears. She wasn’t one of those poor animals put in zoos by humans. She wasn’t a tyrant’s pet. She was the daughter of Qydar and a member of the Aurumon clan. She’d escape this prison and with her father and brother at her side she’d come back and destroy this place. Targus would pay.

Still hungry, Zira munched on corn and gazed at the lighted windows of Laros’ quarters. Her keeper mentioned that a dragon was too large to fit through the gates, which meant he had no idea she was a shape-shifter capable of taking human form. Her ignorant keeper was the key to her escape.

Moving slowly, Zira rounded the outside staircase. She stretched her neck and peered through a window. Laros was stretched out on a sofa, eyes closed. He still wore the drawstring brown pants, but he’d removed the matching V-necked pullover shirt and his shoes.

Although human, Laros was easy on the eyes. His hair was dark and cut short. His features were rugged, beautifully handsome, and she liked the color of his eyes. They were blue, the color of the high mountain lake near her home.

Her gaze drifted over his bare chest. His shoulders were broad and his stomach ridged with muscle.

Zira ate a couple of apples and consumed another loaf of bread. Her hunger satisfied, she entered the barn and nestled in the soft hay, waiting for the early hours when the sky was still dark and the keeper would be deep in his dreams.

* * *

Lifting her head, Zira looked up. The position of the stars told her that dawn was still a few hours away. Zira rose, balanced her weight on feet and tail, then shifted. Her massive body shrank, her scales and tail disappearing. Wings changed to slender arms and talons retracted, becoming nails on dainty toes.

Zira shook her head, and her long blond hair fell to her waist. She stretched, easing the tension in her human body. It was time to engage her keeper. She made her way up the stairs and opened the door. She heard the rustle of bedding, a click, then soft lamplight brightened the room.

Laros sat on the edge of the bed, a white sheet shielding his lap. He looked at her as if a naked woman appearing on his doorstep was a common occurrence. Are you from the palace or the city barracks? he asked.

Zira had planned to slip into bed with him, seduce him in the darkness before telling him her secret, but given his reaction she decided to play along. The palace.

You must be new. I haven’t seen you around.

Zira wanted to stay as close to the truth as possible. I haven’t been here long.

His gaze flicked down to her toes and made a slow sweep up her legs. The master must be pleased to give me such a beautiful reward. How long have you served in the palace harem?

Harem?

The reward he’d spoken of was a woman. Protector Targus must use sex as a reward for performance. Zira lifted her long hair and pushed it over her shoulders, revealing her body.

His breath caught. His quick, audible intake of air emboldened Zira. I was sent as a reward for Laros. Are you Laros?

He nodded. Come in and close the door.

Zira did as he asked and stepped toward him. Where are your clothes?

What possible explanation could she give for running around the palace stark naked?

You’ve displeased your controller, he said. I know the palace harem is a step below the master’s harem, but you’ll learn the rules.

Although curious, Zira dare not ask questions about the controller and his rules.

Laros’ gaze dropped to her breasts, then lower. The master has an eye for beauty, in both face and form. Then he looked her in the eye. What is your name?

Since she’d already told Laros her name, Zira blurted out a friend’s name. Jaida.

Jaida. It’s a lovely name. He pulled the sheet away and stood. You have nothing to fear from me. Like you, I’m a thrall.

Zira stared at his impressive erection. Then her brain registered his statement. He was a thrall, born into a slave class.

Don’t worry, Laros said, walking up to her and cupping her face in his big, calloused hands. This isn’t the harem. I’ll treat you well.

Then he slanted his head and kissed her. His lips were firm, warm and mobile. He kissed her thoroughly and with the zeal of a lusty male.

She didn’t know what to expect of this man, but his kiss was masterful and his hands remained on her face.

He ended the kiss. Our choices are few, our pleasure controlled. You’ve been given as my reward, but I’d rather you were willing.

Laros was giving her a choice. You are kind.

He smiled. But are you willing?

Heat radiated from his body. Zira leaned toward him and pressed her breasts to his chest. The heat of his skin was appealing. Yes.

He kissed her again and Zira responded easily, naturally, to his passion. He wrapped a muscled arm around her waist, planted his big hand on her ass and held her tight. The long ridge of his hard cock dug into her belly.

Fire blast! One thing dragons understood was heat, and Laros was sizzling.

Zira had never had sex with a human, but his kisses were scorching and his hunky body was definitely hot. She wrapped her arms around his neck and rubbed her breasts against his chest.

Tell me what you like, he said, kissing her neck. What pleases you? If you need tenderness, we’ll keep it slow and sweet. He raised his head, his gaze meeting hers. If you want passion…

He let the rest of the question hang in the air, but the fire burning in his eyes left no doubt as to want he needed.

Zira wanted dragonfire; a burning hot climax that smoked her toes or talons, depending on her form. She’d had dragon lovers, but she hadn’t experienced dragonfire. Was it possible with