Page 12 of Not an Assistant (Tales of the Dreggageggon #4)

Dragon Awakened

Z ahara

We are having a picnic in the park, something Acheron has apparently never done. An array of fruit and finger foods are spread across the small tartan blanket as we sit and watch the children and dogs of strangers play in the park.

“This is nice,” he says softly. His shoes are kicked off, his jacket discarded, and his white dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” I say with a grin. “You need to learn to do more normal people stuff.”

“Sadly, Zaraha, I’ve never had a normal person in my life to show me the little joys.”

I lean over and kiss him. “I’ll show you.” I wink and he grins in return.

The moment is broken by the ringing of his cell phone. He stares at the screen before looking at me with a torn expression.

“Go and run your empire,” I say shooing him away. “My boss said I could take the afternoon off so I’ll just be here, enjoying the sunshine.”

He kisses me, deeply, passionately, and strides away. Not far but just out of earshot. I close my eyes and lie back to soak up some rays. For long moments everything is peaceful. But then a shadow blocks my light.

“You’re in my sun, Acheron.”

When he doesn’t say anything, I open my eyes. Shock courses through me. A woman, with beautiful blonde hair, stands over me. Rage and disgust are scrawled across her features.

“Hello, Zaraha. Let’s go for a ride.”

Before I can react or say a single thing, a needle jabs into the side of my neck. The last thing I hear is Acheron’s angry roar as the world around me darkens.

****

T he ropes cut into my wrists. Silver-lined, spelled with something sharp. My skin burns where they touch, but it’s nothing compared to the fire twisting under my ribs. Something inside me is awake and changing. My skin feels too tight. Actually, I feel like I might explode at any minute.

The woman’s voice is a low rasp in the dark. “Do you know what he sees in you? Because I don’t and I would love to understand.”

I don’t answer her. It doesn’t matter what I say, this bitch is clearly off her rocker.

She circles me like a predator too scared to strike.

The warehouse is freezing, but my skin burns like it’s on fire.

My veins feel like they’re boiling. Something like unleashed power itches under my skin like it’s trying to claw its way out.

“He was mine,” she snarls.

“He was never yours. Or anyone else’s,” I whisper.

“He was mine!” she yells. “You have him under a spell. Or your omega scent has lured him. He doesn’t know who you really are.”

I laugh at her. “Acheron knows exactly who I am. And he will be coming for me.”

“He can’t find you,” she says, running a hand through her hair. “He doesn’t know where you are.”

I smile cruelly. “You have no idea what you have done.” I shake my head in disappointment. “A mated dragon, a mated Alpha, can scent his mate for miles. He’ll find me.”

She slaps me across the face and I taste blood in my mouth. “You’re not his fucking mate!”

Her movements are erratic but her focus is on me. She doesn’t see him walk into the warehouse, but I do.

“Greta.” Her name makes her jump and spin around. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I-I’m helping you. I love you.”

“So, you stole my mate.” His words are like sharp knives, flung at her, each hitting their mark.

“I’m supposed to be—”

“You are nothing!” he roars, his dragon pushing through to the forefront. “You were an acceptable assistant but that is it. Nothing more.”

His words break something in her. She turns and lunges at me, a blade flashing in her hand. A scream tears from my throat, but it’s not fear anymore. It’s release. Because in that moment, between pain and fury, between her hatred and my survival, I fucking snap.

Fire erupts from deep within me, covering me in flames and melting away the chains that hold me in place. But the fire isn’t red, or gold, but a perfect mixture of the two. It’s soft and warm but still lethal.

It bursts from my chest, sending Greta flying backward. My restraints melt. The metal floor glows beneath me. Something cracks down my spine before exploding out of me. Wings. I can feel them, raw and rising.

A roar explodes from deep inside my chest as the world around me shimmers. I feel my bones snap and realign as I drop to my knees. My body bends, reshapes, and grows. It hurts, but with the pain is an overwhelming sense of freedom, like this is exactly what I have been waiting for my whole life.

Looking down my body, I take in my new form. Powder-pink scales that shimmer beneath the shitty lighting in the warehouse.

I’m a fucking dragon.

My skin is velvet scales. My fingers, talons.

Greta scrambles backward and her blade clatters to the floor. Her face is all horror now. No hate. No fury. Just the realization that she tried to kill a dragon. And failed.

She screams. The sound reverberates through my skull and grates not only on my nerves, but on my dragon’s too, irritating us both. I open my jaws, to burn or bite, I’m not even sure, but someone else beats me to it.

Midnight-blue wings erupt behind her and a roar shakes the ground. Acheron lands in a blast of power, massive and enraged. His dragon form is pure death—dark, beautiful, and terrifying.

Greta shrieks shrilly before she takes off running like an idiot. But it’s too late. No one can outrun a dragon, especially not two pissed-off dragons.

I leap, my wings catching the air, and crash down in front of her, while Acheron crowds her from behind. There’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide.

She looks at me. “You’re not supposed to exist.”

My dragon grunts before opening her mouth. It’s not words or a roar that leave us but fire. Final and absolute. I watch as Greta burns, not just her body, but the poison inside her. The lies. The jealousy. The rot. And then she’s gone.

I collapse in the middle of the warehouse floor the moment she is gone. Smoke curls from my skin, and my wings retract slowly, painfully. My bones ache from the shift, and my head is spinning. But I’m alive. Whole and changed.

Acheron lands beside me, shifting to his human form before he hits the ground. He’s already moving, already gathering me into his arms.

“You did it,” he whispers.

I can’t speak. My throat is raw, and my heart is racing. But my arms wrap around him instinctively and my head rests against his chest.

And the bond between us sings.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I didn’t mean to shift. Not like this.”

He cradles my face. “You were magnificent.”

I blink up at him. “You’re not afraid of me?”

“Terrified,” he says softly. “Terrified I’ll never be worthy of you.”

And then he kisses me. Claiming me again—this time, dragon to dragon.