Rescued by the Dragon: Dragon Shifter Romance

By Bianca James

The first book in the fast paced, action packed Relic Hunters trilogy

With her career in chaos and the wounds from her first and last relationship still raw, curvy archaeologist, Saira Rolton won’t be getting involved with men again. Robbed of the recognition for her award winning discovery by a man who told her he loved her, she never wants to hear those words again. Hiding herself in the museum lab and working nights is one way to ensure that she won’t be meeting any more men who think it’s alright to lead a curvy, geeky girl on.

 Dangerously handsome, quick-witted and roguishly charming Bryce Armstrong is a thief. No ordinary thief – a high end antiquities thief who specializes in stealing treasures from the most prestigious museums to add to his hoard.

 But tonight, his objective is treasure of a different kind, a cursed coin with untold power, entrusted to his dragon shifter ancestor’s centuries ago but lost to time. Until now.

 When an evil shadow organization swoops in to rob Bryce of his prize, the bullets start flying and he has no choice but to grab Saira and run. Like any good dragon shifter, Bryce is sworn to protect the innocent, even if they seem determined to see him behind bars for his crimes.

 Soon she will learn what makes this attractive dare devil of a burglar so hot – and it’s not what she’s expecting.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Publishdrive
• Release date: Mar 12, 2024

Book preview

Prologue

Hoxne, Suffolk

England, 478AD

We can’t stop here. We must run. Terryn insisted. But Ryia didn’t stir at his sharp command.

Now! he commanded more harshly than he intended when she failed to respond.

The deep timbre of the distant hunting horn cut through the cold mist that shrouded the ground. Even the ravens, feasting greedily on the bodies of the fallen, were panicked by the ominous sound. Some took wing while others, their bloody beaks glistening wet, stopped feeding only long enough for their black, soulless eyes to survey their surroundings before dismissing the intruders, who were clearly too occupied with their own woes to pose any threat to their meal.

Terryn scanned the horizon, his eyes narrowed against the sun that painted the morning sky, threatening to expose them by chasing away the mist. They’d run all night, hoping to reach the coast before dawn. Before the hunters fell upon them. Failing that, they had hoped that passage through the now silent battlefield would hide their tracks and confuse their relentless and unyielding pursuers, buying them precious time.

They had clearly underestimated their pursuers. Or perhaps their desperation had caused them to be too optimistic.

He looked down at the blood slicked leather of Ryia’s vest. The arrow head had gone deep into her chest, the shaft protruding as if to remind them of the fate that awaited them should they be caught. Not that they needed such a reminder. They had been running for three days, now, their enemy never far behind.

They would never make it to the harbor, at least not fast enough to outrun the hunters. Not if they continued to carry the treasure. And without the treasure, there was little hope for them, even if they lived long enough to make it to the coast.

Terryn knelt and gently roused the wounded woman. The sheen of sweat that pebbled her face hinted at the pain she bravely tried to control.

Ryia, my love, we must move. He stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. The tenderness in his voice and his gentle touch belied the urgency and desperation of their situation.

Her lips parted, but the words caught in her throat. They had drunk the last of their water one day ago, the same day their horse died, leaving them to haul the treasure themselves. Her dry lips parted as she grimaced in pain.

Go, she said as she looked to the horizon, beyond which lay the harbor.

Terryn shook his head resolutely. I’ll not leave you. He intended to keep his promise to her. No matter the cost.

They had taken with them only what treasure they could carry. The hoard consisted mostly of gold and silver coin to buy passage on a ship and start a new life across the sea. Terryn also had the foresight to add some silver trinkets and jewelry to the hoard so they could buy food, and silence, as they passed through the many villages scattered across the countryside, along their journey to the harbor. Once there, they hoped, to buy passage on a ship and begin a new life across the sea. But the thought of fleeing without Ryia by his side was unfathomable. He wanted her at his side. In this life and the next.

He would not squander the short time they had left. Something had to be done and they both knew it. He made his decision.

Scanning the horizon once more, Terryn unsheathed his sword and raised it above his head, ignoring the risk that the glint of the blade might be spotted from afar as he rose from protection of the mist. The muscles in his powerful biceps flexed and the ropey tendons of his forearms bulged beneath the skin as he looped the fearsome sword through the air as if it weighed nothing.

Ryia opened her eyes to see the polished blade catch the sun as it hovered in the air, ready to slice through the cold air, toward her.

No! she wailed plaintively. Pain etched her features as she tried to raise her arm to stop him.

A lone tear escaped the corner of one eye and traced a moist path down her cheek as the haunting, watery pattern of the Damascus steel blade caught the light and shimmered, as if the brutally sharp blade itself was alive.

Without the slightest hesitation, Terryn swung the heavy blade, scribing a silvery arc through the air as the blade, now an extension of the ropey, powerful arms that wielded it, sliced through the air before making a near surgical, but more importantly, near invisible cleft in the grass between Ryia and the chest that held their treasure. Their future.

Despite their dire circumstances, Terryn couldn’t help but display his mastery of favored weapon in a display of strength and skill intended to restore Ryia’s faith in his decision. He was a warrior. She needed to be reminded that on the field of battle, it was his