Dragon's Baby Read online

  Dragon’s Baby

  Misty Woods Dragons

  Juniper Hart

  Dragon’s Baby: Misty Woods Dragons

  Text Copyright © 2018 by Juniper Hart

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2018

  Publisher

  Secret Woods Books

  [email protected]

  www.SecretWoodsBooks.com

  Contents

  Dragon’s Baby

  Bonus Content: Shifter Romances

  Bonus Content: Shifter Pursuit Series

  Dragon’s Baby

  By Juniper Hart

  Prologue

  Heaviness hung within the dank castle walls, each brother more distraught than the next.

  The cavalry—soldiers on foot—was coming, but who could say how long it would be before help arrived? Would it be a day? A week?

  The six princes of Misty Woods knew they did not have such a luxury.

  “We are doomed,” Cassius murmured, pausing between the grey slate of the stone to stare into the darkness. “We have called too late for salvation.”

  “You must not speak so ridiculously,” Marcus growled, pacing along the hearth, his heavy wolf cape draped about his shoulders. “They will come. We will be saved.”

  “We are the sons of King Rui. We have never failed at battle, and we will not commence today!” Anders declared hotly, slamming his sword into the scarred round table and scowling at his brothers. “We bleed royal blood. We carry the seed of Misty Woods in our loins. Cease your doubts and hold your heads high as Father would have had us do! Whether they come or not, we will go into battle and fight for our kingdom!”

  His brothers did not seem to be convinced.

  “I must go to Nora,” Ansel muttered, turning to flee the room. Maximus stood solidly in his way.

  “You will see your maiden when the kingdom has been spared,” Maximus spat.

  “And what if the kingdom is not spared?” Titus demanded, undoubtedly thinking of his own love, locked away in the turret with the other women and children for their own protection against the impending battle that loomed not so far away.

  “Then we shall all perish together!” Cassius roared.

  “You needn’t perish, my lords,” a creaking voice called out to them, and the princes whirled to the source.

  From the shadows beneath the cast iron candle holders, the old sage grinned toothlessly at them, her wretched face a twisted compilation of glee and malice.

  “You!” Maximus shouted, lunging toward her. “How did you get in here?”

  “I come in peace, my lord—lords,” she cooed, seeming unperturbed as the oldest brother yanked her from the wall and paraded her forward. “I have come to offer you safety in this time of terrible peril.”

  “You?” Ansel snorted. “You are decrepit and useless. Who do you fight with?”

  The old sage cackled, and each man felt a shiver of apprehension slide through them as they realized the crone was not intimidated by the threat of six towering men of power and weaponry.

  “As you said, my lord,” the witch demurred, “I am ancient and without benefit. I do not wish to take sides.”

  “Put her in the barracks!” Marcus howled. “We are wasting valuable time bantering with this hag!”

  “My lord!” she cried imploringly. “Before you lock me away, hear my words, and then decide to do what you will. I only beg a moment of your precious time.”

  Her black eyes seemed like hot coals as the brothers turned their attention to her.

  “Speak!” Maximus snapped. “We have matters of battle with which to contend!”

  “It is of those matters I wish to speak,” she assured them. “You cannot win against the Northmen.”

  “Nonsense!” screamed Titus. The princes advanced on her, their swords drawn, ready to behead the her for uttering such treasonous words.

  “I beg of you, my lords, hear my words before you strike me dead!” she continued, offering them a nearly toothless smile. Her grin widened, even though she was encircled among the six princes of the kingdom, as though their presence inspired amusement in her rather than fear.

  “The soldiers you have requested from the realm will not be here until the day following the full moon,” the sage explained. “And the Northmen will attack at dawn. You know as well as I do that they have already conquered the villages. Their next skirmish will be the castle walls. They outnumber you. It will undoubtedly be a brief, humiliating fight.”

  “How can you know that?” Ansel demanded, but even as he spoke the words, he knew the woman had her ways to obtain the knowledge she desired.

  “I assure you, my lord, it is so,” she said. “I am offering you a chance to win against the Northmen without fear. You will be regarded as legends, and the minstrels will sing about you for generations to come!”

  “We are the princes of Misty Woods,” Anders growled. “We fear nothing!”

  “There are already many a ballad about our bravery!” Marcus called.

  The old sage shook her head, as if there was little else she could do to change their minds.

  “Then you will die,” she told them, her tone flat and certain. “And Misty Woods will no longer be.”

  A stillness hung in the air, not broken or interrupted even by a breeze from the open window as the six princes stared at the old witch. Her statement had cut each of them deeply, and they could do nothing but inherently recognize the truth. Without help, their kingdom would certainly cease to exist.

  “How can you prevent it?” Cassius asked quietly. He sensed the disapproval of his brothers for asking, and although none of them protested his question, he still lowered his gaze.

  “I have the power to invoke the will of Mother Nature and turn you into beasts who breathe fire,” the sage told them. “For three days and three nights, you will sprout wings and fly above your enemies, touting flames from your throats until they have all been sent back to the fiery hell where they belong!”

  “Witchcraft!” the brothers yelled. “A spell! Underworld debauchery!”

  “It is the will of Mother Nature,” she assured them, demurely lowering her eyes. “It is only a short miracle, but a miracle nonetheless.”

  The princes stepped back and glanced at one another, unsure of how to respond.

  “If it is the work of Mother Nature…”

  “If it is only for three days and nights…”

  “If this ensures our victory…”

  They turned back to the woman, who waited patiently for their response, her black eyes glittering.

  “Why would you help us,” Ansel demanded, “if you claim to have no side?”

  “Ah, my lord,” she replied smugly. “Just because I do not choose, it does not mean I do not hate.”

  “And what do you have to gain by this?” Titus insisted. They wanted to know why she would willingly help them fight against the Northmen.

  The old witch smiled enigmatically. “I am serving my kingdom, my lord.”

  Once more, the brothers exchanged a long look. The old woman had been nothing but trouble for them and for Misty Woods, but if she could give them a chance to defend their kingdom… if they could save their people…

  Slowly, the six princes began to nod, one by one, their hearts filled with hope once again.

&nbs
p; “We shall prevail!” Anders cried, and they all roared in consensus, raising their swords to toast their newfound power.

  And in their surge of arrogance, they did not see the witch’s smile grow cruel and cold, for they had not thought to ask her which kingdom it was that she served.

  Not until it was much too late.

  1

  It didn’t matter that her head was pounding or that she was angrier than she had ever been in her life—Brooklyn Demeris was determined to apply her eyeliner and suck it up.

  I’ve been in exile long enough, she told herself. This is happening, no matter what.

  “Brooklyn? I need the bathroom!” Veronica cried impatiently from the hallway. Brooklyn scowled at her reflection.

  “You need to use yours,” Brooklyn snapped back. “That’s why you have one.”

  “I can’t get in there right now,” her roommate argued. “Come on, Brooklyn! I just need to pee!” Brooklyn threw open the door and glowered angrily at the petite brunette.

  “No!” she growled. “Go undo the mess you made in your bathroom and stay out of mine!”

  She slammed the door before Veronica could protest, shaking her head in disbelief. She had shared the three-bedroom house with Veronica Saddler for almost two years, and it seemed that the tension between them only escalated with each passing day.

  There were fundamental differences between the women, ones that had not seemed enormous at first, but were quickly becoming a nuisance. Veronica was messy while Brooklyn, who was by no means a neat freak, did not appreciate the endless piles of dishes in the sink.

  Especially when we have a dishwasher, she thought, willing her face to stop creasing so unattractively as she looked at her face in the glass.

  Currently, Veronica’s bathroom was filled with random crap she had acquired online; currently unusable, because she could barely enter the room.

  And she has a walk-in closet. What is wrong with this girl?

  But Veronica paid her rent in full and on time every month, which was more than Brooklyn could manage half the time, forcing her to grin and bear the clash between them.

  If I would finally get this damned promotion, I could get my own place and get out of here with my trusted dog, Hunter. Then I could live in peace and quiet, Brooklyn thought.

  Veronica wasn’t the only reason Brooklyn was upset. She was still seething at Ryan, her ex-fiancé, and as she leaned closer to the mirror to correct the mess she had made around her eyes, her jaw clenched.

  Her reflection did not please her in the least: her blonde hair, although freshly washed and styled, seemed to have lost its usual luster as it hung without any real energy about her shoulders. Teal eyes stared back at her, now encircled in smeared black liner, but lacking the glimmer they had once possessed.

  What did he do to me? Brooklyn wondered numbly. He’s aged me ten years in one.

  She was still beautiful and young, though, her prime years ahead of her. At least her figure was still intact, and she hadn’t sprouted any wrinkles just yet. It wasn’t likely that she had developed into a decrepit hag at twenty-five, but she felt as if her ex-fiancé had somehow drained the life out of her in a relatively short period of time.

  She had dodged a bullet, really. Ryan had cheated on her with a stripper named Elena. She was lucky she had walked away healthy and with whatever dignity she had managed to maintain, thanks to the support of a very caring circle of friends. She wasn’t someone who would continue enabling his bastard ways. Besides, her friends had ensured she wouldn’t go back to him.

  Brooklyn wiped her eyes with a cloth and started her make-up again. At her side, the cell dinged, and she eyed it through her peripheral vision.

  Be there in ten minutes, the text read, and she groaned inwardly.

  How had so much time gone by? She had been getting ready for over an hour already, and yet she was nowhere closer to being ready than she had been after her shower. She didn’t have time to respond to Audrey’s text. What she needed was to hurry up and get ready.

  It would be tacky of her to be late. After all, the girls had planned the evening on her behalf, and while she wanted nothing more than to rip off her too short dress and crawl back into bed, she forced herself to move forward.

  No man is worth this, Brooklyn told herself, reapplying her liner and mascara as quickly as she could, willing the Advil to work its action to tame her headache. The pain had been incessant for days, a throbbing that felt like her brain was swelling in her skull cap. Surely Ryan was to blame for this, too. It was just one more reason for her to hate her ex.

  Brooklyn stepped back from the mirror and examined herself with bleary eyes.

  The club will be dark, she assured herself. No need to go overboard. It’s not like you’re out looking to get laid tonight.

  She slipped into her bedroom, grabbing a pair of red stilettos to match her cherry red minidress, and stole down the stairs. If she had not been so consumed in her own misery, she would have realized that she looked stunning, red undoubtedly her best color.

  Veronica instantly jumped into her bathroom, as if she had been waiting by her closed bedroom door for Brooklyn to move.

  I have to do something about that girl, she thought with annoyance, but her attention was diverted by a honking outside. The limo had arrived.

  Brooklyn quickly put on her shoes and threw open the front door as Hunter barked in protest.

  “Oh!” she cried, turning toward her German Shepherd. “Sorry, baby boy. Come and give me a kiss.”

  He lunged forward, nuzzling his face in her stomach, and Brooklyn couldn’t help but laugh as she lost her balance and fell backward. Again, the limo horn sounded, and Brooklyn waved impatiently to indicate she was coming.

  “I have to go, boy,” she told him, rising to dust herself off. “Be good, all right?” He whined slightly but permitted her to leave, his brown eyes staring after her forlornly. It was all she could do not to rush back into the house and lock the door.

  At least I have Hunter, she thought, closing the door behind her as she made her way down the steps.

  “Hurry up!” Audrey yelled, poking her head out of the skylight. “We have dinner reservations to keep!”

  “I’m coming!” she muttered. The limo driver opened the back to allow her in to meet her friends. The group whistled at her in appreciation as she slid inside and took her place on the white leather seats.

  “You look like the whore of Babylon,” Maddy announced. and the other women hooted in agreement.

  “Thank you,” Brooklyn demurred. “I wish I could return the compliment.”

  “Ah, you see?” Audrey called. “She’s getting her sense of humor back!”

  “My sense of humor was never lost,” Brooklyn sighed, accepting a glass of champagne from Stella as the limo pulled away from the curb. “It’s my pride I’m still looking for.”

  “Screw Ryan Shilling,” Audrey growled, downing the rest of her goblet. “Screw all men!”

  Brooklyn raised her glass and her eyebrow to her best friend, also swallowing a massive gulp.

  Audrey is already drunk, she realized. She probably started drinking at home.

  “Don’t worry about her,” Stella murmured, as if sensing Brooklyn’s thoughts. “If she gets sloppy, I’ll take her home. Don’t let her ruin your night.”

  Brooklyn glanced gratefully at her. Audrey had been her one true friend through thick and thin, but there was no question that the girl was a lot to take. The running joke among them was that Audrey was an acquired taste.

  They really did go out of their way to make this a good night for me, Brooklyn thought, glancing around at her half-dozen friends. I must have been more pathetic than I realized.

  “I thought you were going to cancel tonight,” Maddy confessed as Stella refilled her glass.

  “How could I refuse girls’ night in a limo?” Brooklyn protested, but as she spoke, she realized how many times she had blown off her circle of friends in the past month. Gu
ilt filled her as she took another gulp, hoping her expression wasn’t evident.

  “Well, that was our hope,” Maddy replied, closely studying Brooklyn’s face. “We figured, since you’d canceled on everything else, if we planned a big night out, you would be forced to come.”

  Another stab of shame pierced Brooklyn’s heart, and she gazed at her hands.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I mean, the guy banged a stripper! And I’m the one wallowing in it!”

  “We’ve all been there,” Stella told her reassuringly. “Don’t beat yourself up. You know that it’s his loss. I wouldn’t be surprised if he comes crawling back on his hands and knees.”

  “Screw Ryan Shilling!” Audrey screamed again. “Screw all men!”

  “Maybe not all men,” Christine piped up, a small smile on her pixie-like face, and the other women booed.

  “Oh, shut up, Chris! No one wants to hear about your perfect relationship!” Audrey yelled. “You found the one man in the world who can keep his dick in his pants. Congratulations!”

  “All right,” Brooklyn interrupted, her instinct telling her that Audrey was about to become obnoxious in her inebriated state. It wouldn’t be the first time, and like Stella had said, she couldn’t let her ruin her night. “Let’s agree not to discuss men tonight at all, okay?”

  There was a cheer of approval, and the friends raised their glasses in toast.

  “To enjoying each other’s company!” Maddy called.

  “Hear, hear!” they chorused, everyone placing their glasses to their lips.

  Brooklyn settled back against the seat and allowed the alcohol to take effect, her shoulders relaxing against the leather. For the first time in days, she noticed her headache subsiding.