Dragon Love: The Omen Club, #2

By R.L. Wilson

I rescued her. In return, she captured my heart.

Winter 

I'm the north side's best potion dealer. Everyone in Chicago knows. What I'm not is a thief, but when a handsome dragon rescues me from a thirsty vampire's clutches, what I want most is the one thing I can't have. But I won't let that stop me because our chemistry is enough to make my head spin and my heart swell.

Kyle

I like to think I'm a good guy. Rescuing a beautiful stranger proves my theory and more, but there's a problem. A relationship is the last thing I want or need, but the sexy witch with the come-hither eyes put a spell on me. Dragon Rules be damned. I have to have this witch.

Find out what happens when forbidden love finds its perfect match in this heart stopping paranormal romance!

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.L.Wilson
• Release date: Apr 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9781393788591

R.L. Wilson

From early life R.L. started writing short stories. Raised on Star Trek, E. T. and Ghost Busters, she found herself infatuated with imagination. Her writing is influenced by many, with J. K. Rowling being the most influential. When she is not writing or plotting her next book, she spends time with her husband, three children and two cats.

Book preview

Chapter One

Kyle

There’s a sense of nostalgia to the place that I’ve always called home, a mansion with dozens of trees in every direction. Silence. The truth is it’s the privacy that we need. We’ll always need it, and not because of others in our community—it’s the humans. Not that I blame them. They should fear us. They fear everything. Such pitiful creatures.

I grind my teeth at the thought as I make my way towards the mountain-like house before me, stretching out towards the black sky like a dark spike. The orange glow from the lights in the windows highlights her, a looming figure in the window waiting for me to arrive.

There’s splendor to being one of us, but there’s also frustration. After three years away with no communication, she hasn’t changed much. I’m sure of it. No amount of worldly goods could make her not act like a mother.

I take in a deep breath as I near the front door. There’s a pungent scent coming from the house which reeks of burning meat. My mouth is watering at the scent. Glancing back, I consider my Ferrari in the driveway, wondering if I should set off again. I don’t want to be here. I already regret coming back, and I haven’t even said a damn word to my family.

After brushing back my thick black hair, I knock on the door. I hear her voice from the other side, but I can’t tell what she said. Not that it matters—I technically live here. We all do, as a family unit. After all, you’re nothing without your coven.

Come in already. I’ve missed you.

There’s heavy pain in those words, which echo through my head like a lost song. It’s both a blessing and a curse to communicate with our minds. Does it come in handy while amongst others of our kind? Sure. But there’s a risk to everything, and always being able to hear their voices in my mind comes with its downfalls. I often grow tired of the opinions of my kind.

I open the door and walk into the manor, revealing perfectly waxed marble floors and a winding staircase right in front of the entrance. There are side rooms, and solid gold decor mixed throughout the silver ornaments that my mother collects on her antique stands. I’m silent as her footsteps sound in the next room. I can already smell the wine emanating off her, something that dates back to when I was young. It’s a scent that reminds me of her, no matter where I am.

You’re back, she states as she enters the parlor with a gold wine glass in her hand. She’s as tall and elegant as ever, jewels draped around her neck as though she’d been born with them. I’m so glad to see you.

You as well, Mother.

Come with me into the drawing room. We have so much to discuss.

I cringe at the thought, but despite wanting to leave, I follow her. If she weren’t my mother, I would have left already. I don’t want to have an awkward conversation about my travels. Even just being in my human form is causing pain in my legs. The sheer friction of walking is uncomfortable. I want to be back in the night sky with the air beneath my wings.

The drawing room is where she keeps her most beloved possessions—antique china, sculptures dating back to Ancient Greece, and several cabinets displaying her gold collection. I often wonder why she needs to surround herself with such opulence. It seems redundant now.

So, tell me, she says, gracefully lowering herself to the black leather chaise lounge across the room from me, which sits between two cabinets. It’s as though she, herself, is a part of her own collection. How were your travels? No phone calls or letters from you in three years. I would have sworn you’d been killed by hunters, or worse.

She tries to hide it, but I pick up the tension in her voice. It’s a slight wavering that only those closest to her would understand.

I travelled to the Middle East and Asia. Spent some time living among nomads, and visited family in Japan. Most of it, however, was done in my authentic form.

She grimaces before she takes a sip of her drink. You know it’s forbidden for humans to witness your dragon form.

You need not tell me. None saw.

Good.

We fall silent. Just as I had suspected. She just wants to know if I’ve finally found a dragon as a mate. There were many beautiful specimens along my way, but none that I found appealing enough. It’s not always the beauty of a being, it’s the soul attached.

My brother, Sebastian, learned the difficult way.

How are things here? I ask finally, breaking the silence. Any news on the Selene coven?

She narrows her eyes at me. No. Their banishment has not been revoked, if that’s what you’re asking.

I see you’ve made the most of them being gone.

She clenches her teeth, and her knuckles become white as she grips the gold goblet in her hand. Is there something you wish to say?

There’s nothing I can say that’ll help the situation. Besides, she doesn’t want to know about my discoveries in the world. Seducing others, tasting their flesh. Drinking until my human form couldn’t take anymore. Anything that made me feel alive.

No. There’s nothing.

She takes a sip of her wine and wipes her lip with her long finger. I suppose you’re leaving?

Is it that easy to tell?

You haven’t changed, you know.

I fall silent, not wanting to witness her mockery now. Whatever they did to the Selene coven was a choice. I try not to think about it. How my brother killed his fiancée—how fleeting our lives, which I’d once thought were unassailable, could be. For all we know, we’ll be next. I didn’t want to stick around and find out. I simply needed to get away, and being here again is causing the same urge to rise within me again.

She brings her eyes to me and sighs. Well, go on, then. Don’t let me keep you.

I’ll be back later this evening.

I suspected as much, she says, pursing her lips. I suppose you went through a bit of your money?

I laugh at the thought. You know I’ll never run out, even if I tried.

You shouldn’t be so profligate.

Mother, I’m grown now. You can’t tell me what to do any longer, I tell her, my voice sharp. I’ll spend it how I wish.

The precious stones along her neck clink together as she turns to face me. Be careful what you say. You’re still my son.

I knew nothing had changed. Maybe returning to Chicago was a bad idea. Still, I’m a sucker for dramatics. A masochist? Not at all. Just easily amused, due to boredom. Being here sometimes brings out the