Taking Secrets in Stride: Taming the Dragon Clan, #2

By Chelsea Falin

Episode II: Taking Secrets in Stride

Things get heated between Zalena, Ezra, and Damien while things get sweet (but steamy) between Zalena and Azariel. The battle for global domination and perfect world balance has started and Zalena has no idea she's caught in the middle.
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The Bad Guy:

Azariel.

A mage tapping into the darker half of the earth element and leader of the Jewel Clan, he was never so much evil as lost. Of all the things Azariel is willing to do, harming a woman or child isn't one of them. He makes a point to use his resources to eradicate the world of rapists, woman abusers, and child beaters one dead man at a time.

The Good Guys:

Damien.

The last dragon shifter and leader of the Dragon Clan. He refuses to love, because love, he claims, is dangerous. He claims the sweet Zalena as the alpha male he is, partaking in carnal pleasures infused with pain that fade into soft care once his urges have been fulfilled.

Ezra.

A wolf shifter who despised the modern adaptation of his kind as 'werewolves.' With puppy-like enthusiasm and a good nature that lifts everyone's spirits, Ezra has an animalistic personality in the bedroom infused with playfulness.

Markian.

A mage who taps into the white half of the spirit element. He's very ordinary compared to his brethren, but has a calming way about him that puts everyone at ease. He's the voice of common sense in their trio, and when he's gone on missions, the other two are known for making very bad decisions.

The Woman:

Zalena.

A tiny, raven-haired beauty who has clawed her way up in the world from a dark past we don't quite understand yet. She's unwittingly pulled into a world of magic, into the battle for balance in the world, when she accepts a cleaning position from Damien.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chelsea Falin
• Release date: Jun 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393901983

Book preview

Chapter One

Zalena

What are you doing here?

I spun around, heart beating so fast it made black spots dance about my vision. I feared I’d see Damien standing shirtless beside the bed like in my dream. When I saw he stood in a short-sleeve black tee-shirt and denim jeans inside the doorway, my heart rate lowered slightly. I, uh... What the hell was I doing here?

You aren’t supposed to be in here. That’s why the door was closed. Damien’s face was set. He crossed his arms and tapped a foot against the plush green carpeting.

Oh, I..., I’m sorry. I just... was curious.

Curious? Tsk, tsk, tsk. Barging into other people’s bedrooms isn’t very professional of you, is it beasty? Damien’s eyes glimmered with mischief in a face set in disapproval.

Why do you keep calling me that? I yelled louder than I meant to. My nerves were shot, and I feared I’d lost all self-control at this point. My mind couldn’t grasp what was going on. Thoughts tumbled about in my skull in a disconcerting fashion.

Damien smiled, uncrossing his arms as he took one long stride towards me. Why shouldn’t I call you that?

What the hell is going on here? I demanded. And what the hell kind of pet name is beasty?

Is it a pet name? Should I have a pet name for you, Zalena? Would you like me to? Damien took another step forward. There was still considerable distance between us, but I felt like a caged animal, afraid and looking for escape. It wasn’t him that frightened me, per se, but the ridiculousness of the entire situation.

You didn’t answer my first question!

What question was that? Another long step forward.

What the hell is going on here? I’ve seen this room! That’s why I was looking. I saw this room in a dream, and I hadn’t seen it before in real life. But now I see it isn’t only a room in my dream, but it’s real! How is that possible? I was panting in fear and confusion. I hadn’t meant to tell Damien why I was here. The fact he didn’t look concerned was even more disconcerting.

What did you dream of, then? Only this room? I’m rather fond of it myself. Then again, I did decorate it to exactly suit my tastes. That’s how it goes with bedrooms, isn’t it? Damien took another long step forward. He was just outside arm’s reach now, and I was embarrassed to admit a pulsating desire surged amidst the turmoil.

I ... I ... I began to cry. Oh, how I loathed crying. I hadn’t had a crying jag in five years. Now here I was, balling my eyes out in the weird, familiar bedroom of my odd, high-paying client.

I felt strong arms encircling me. A musky cologne with the faintest hint of cinnamon overcame my senses. Unable to control myself, I buried my face in Damien’s black shirt. I felt ridiculous because I was sure it was his fault I was crying. But could I be sure of anything these days? 

Shhhh.... Damien’s fingers ran through my hair as he shushed me, pulling me closer into his embrace.

I sniffled, the tears stopping. Face still buried in Damien’s dark shirt, I asked, What the hell is wrong with me?

I felt more than heard the chuckle rising from Damien’s muscular chest. Oh, beasty, there’s nothing wrong with you. Perhaps you’re overworking yourself, hmm? Or you inhaled a bit too much cleaning solution?

I sniffled and went to shove back, angry he was acting like I was a nut case. His strong arms held me in place, however, so I was forced to yell at him from inside them.

The sad truth was I didn’t want out. My inner turmoil had calmed when Damien wrapped his arms around me, but the confusion thickened. I didn’t let people touch me like this. I’d always been wary of physical contact in any form. I’m not overworked, and I didn’t inhale too much cleaner. I saw this room in my dream.

Damien sighed. While keeping one arm around me, he reached his hand down to cup my chin. He tilted my face upwards. He was so much taller my head was tilted as far back as it could go. It was uncomfortable for my neck, but I could barely focus on that as I met those violet eyes.

While I still thought them strange, I couldn’t deny any longer something was striking, seductive even, about those eyes. They bore holes through my soul, and I felt vulnerable. It was as though Damien knew every thought, every secret, every horrible memory I’d tucked away from myself.

After a long moment of silence, Damien spoke in a quiet, deep voice. I’m sure you saw the room last time you were here. You were a little ‘beasty’ to me the moment I saw you. Perhaps you didn’t register the nickname the first time you heard it. Sometimes our unconscious minds put things together in dreams. Hence, it seems realistic even though we don’t remember collecting any of those thoughts or images.

Really? I sniffled. His explanation made sense. I’d read a few articles on psychology, and his words seemed to be in line with what I’d read about dreaming.

Mhmm. Damien leaned down and kissed my forehead. You’re obviously not sleeping well, either. You should take better care of yourself, beasty. A low, short