Free My Dragon: Dragon Cursed

By Joely Sue Burkhart

My fated mate can break my curse—if he sacrifices me.

Hundreds of warriors have braved my domain. They came, and they died.

I killed them all.

In a land of poisoned sands and unending drought, I've been trapped as a dragon for centuries. When yet another warrior comes to my lair, I can't wait to rip him apart. But this man knows my secret. He waits for my true form to be revealed in the light of the full moon. For three nights only, I can walk, talk, and love like a human woman. Though there's very little humanity left in me after so many centuries.

He survives my teeth and claws.

He even survives my fire.

The unafraid, stoic warrior is a worthy mate that even my ferocious dragon heart can't deny. Until I learn that he must sacrifice me to save his people.

This warrior may be the one to finally break my curse… if I'm willing to make the greatest sacrifice of all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joely Sue Burkhart
• Release date: Jun 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201994631

Book preview

1

CHANDA

Iscented him in the arid noon. Heat waves shimmered his two-legged shape in the far distance. Who dared encroach on my domain?

It was too hot to stir from the cave, even for me, but the warrior's scent tormented me. Sweat and musk, muscle and pride, oh, how tasty, how divine a feast. Miles away and on foot, he wouldn’t reach my lair until dusk.

Sluggish, I dozed. Dreams tormented me in the roasting heat of afternoon, memories from centuries ago of my life before the curse. Rage crawled in the dark, secret fissures of my heart, a fire stoked hour by hour. Trapped in this prison of wing, scale, and claw, I hated that unknown warrior.

I would tear him limb from limb. Shred his skin and lick his spicy blood from the unforgiving sands. Crack bone to feast on his marrow. I would dine on his fear, shred his dreams and char his most secret hopes.

As soon as the sun touched the horizon and shadows stretched across the red sands, I crept from my lair.

Over the years, hundreds of warriors have braved my domain. They came with sword and magic, bows and shields, hearts bursting with courage, hope, rage, envy, and even lust.

They came, and they died.

I killed them all.

This one would be no different.

Ah, but he was a cocky son of a bitch. He stood in plain view on the highest point of my barrens. With his back to me, he stared out over the empty Well of Tears. The well I had not been able to fill despite an eternity of suffering.

The dying sun blazed behind me, outlining his muscular body, the proud tilt of his head, and then the chiseled lines of his face as he turned. His eyes were dark, shadowed and hollowed with misery. Keldar was a hard land, a hard life, even for such a magnificent warrior.

A curved scimitar gleamed in the growing shadows, ready in his hand but not offensive. Not threatening, not yet. The black taamid flapped about his shoulders like wings, loose and flowing to the ground. Leather knife straps crossed his chest, and a coiled whip hung on his hip. I could smell the sweet herbed oil used to keep the dragon hide supple.

No fear flickered in his steady gaze. No emotion showed on his stone face. He stared at me, waiting. For what?

Casually, I flicked a wing at him. He ducked low, tucked into a smooth roll to the side, and flipped back to his feet. Impressive. Instead of trying to knock him down, I flipped around and grabbed him with my tail which was as thick as his body. Squeezing scaled muscle around his chest, I locked him in bands of living iron he couldn't possibly break.

I would crush his bones and bathe in the blood spray—

Pain shattered my bloodthirsty fantasy.

The curved blade slid into my flesh, just enough to anger me. I slung him to the ground so hard that his ribs creaked, but he didn’t make a grunt of pain.

The scent of blood—even my own—brought my hunger roaring to life. I breathed deeply and threw my head back. Flames blazed to the heavens. The ground rumbled and cringed beneath my claws. Horses miles away screamed in terror and people quaked in their flimsy hide tents and whispered prayers to deaf and uncaring gods.

The warrior before me licked my blood from his blade.

He dared to taste my blood.

A shiver crawled down my spine. This was no ordinary warrior. Already, I felt a gnat's brush against my mind through the fragile blood bond he attempted to weave.

I dared say mine was a bitter and noxious brew compared to the sweet wealth of his blood that would soon roll in my belly. With my hunger fully awakened, I ignored my unease. I flapped my wings and scrambled at him.

He dodged aside with a roll and then leapt, kicking sand in my eyes. A child’s trick. I didn't have to see him. I could smell him: burnt cinnamon, roasted sage, sweat, and tasty warrior.

I would eat him alive.

He led me on a merry chase, and I found myself strangely reluctant to end the game. He smelled so good and fought with such tenacity. At last, I felt something other than rage or hatred. A strange joy burned in my dragon heart.

I seized him delicately in my front claws, pinning him flat on his back against the red sands. Panting, he stared up at me, still without fear. He even gave me the barest hint of a smile, if the faint wrinkles around his eyes were any indication.

"I'm Jalan tal'Krait."

I cocked my head, trying to remember what the words meant. Tal, chief, of the tribe called Krait. All the Keldari tribes were named after the vicious poisonous serpents of the desert, for we were just as deadly.

"I'm the last Krait dra'gwar."

I blew hard, shaking my head. I had no understanding of the last word. Warrior class, I guessed. The last? The Kraits were a mighty clan even in my day, second only to the Mambas. Oh, how the years eroded everything. Even the unshakeable rock crumbled before the winds of time.

Lowering my spined muzzle, I sniffed at his neck. Peeling my lips back, I snagged his clothing in my teeth and tugged it aside to reveal darkly bronzed skin. Black hair spilled like blood against the rock.

I tasted him, just a lick, a graze of teeth. He shuddered in my grasp. My claws broke his skin despite my care.

Blood. Oh so sweet, so rich. I licked the fine red trails from his skin. The only element missing was fear, a few high-pitched screams to flavor my meat.

So I gripped harder, shaking him. Yet he still didn’t make any sound, not a cry of pain, or even a harsh gasp. Curious, I raised my head.

He searched the sky behind me, and a broader smile curved his lips. Night had fallen around us while I’d played with my food.

Yet it was strangely bright.

My scales twitched and danced along my back.

My wings trembled. White feathers and scales quivered around