My dragon keeper, p.1
My Dragon Keeper, page 1
My Dragon Keeper
Broken Souls 2
Alisa Woods
Check out all of Alisa’s bestselling Paranormal Romance...
READING ORDER
Dot Com Wolves
* * *
Claiming Mia (Book 1)
Saving Arianna (Book 2)
A Christmas Wish (Book 3)
Riverwise Private Security
* * *
Jaxson (Book 1)
Jace (Book 2)
Jared (Book 3)
Wilding Pack Wolves
* * *
Wild Game (Book 1)
Wild Love (Book 2)
Wild Heat (Book 3)
Wild One (Book 4)
Wild Fire (Book 5)
Wild Magic (Book 6)
Fallen Immortals
* * *
Kiss of a Dragon (Book 1)
Heart of a Dragon (Book 2)
Fire of a Dragon (Book 3)
Chosen by a Dragon (Book 4)
Seduced by a Dragon (Book 5)
Touched by a Dragon (Book 6)
Loved by a Dragon (Book 7)
Marked by a Dragon (Book 8)
Claimed by a Dragon (Book 9)
Of Bards and Witches: Leonidas’s Story (Book 10)
Fallen Angels
* * *
A Deadly Sin (Book 1)
Guardian of Light (Book 2)
The Sin of Wrath (Book 3)
Seraphim (Book 4)
Prince of Shadow (Book 5)
Tempted: Tajael’s Story (Book 6)
Kiss of an Angel: A Christmas Story (Book 7)
Legal Magick
* * *
Ever Strange (Book 1)
Mercy Strange (Book 2)
Verity Strange (Book 3)
Broken Souls
* * *
My Dragon Lord (Book 1)
My Dragon Keeper (Book 2)
My Dragon Mate (Book 3)
My Dragon Bodyguard (Book 4)
My Dragon Lover (Book 5)
My Dragon Master (Book 6)
Akkan (Book 7)
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My Dragon Keeper (Broken Souls 2)
Copyright © September 2019 by Alisa Woods
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author. For information visit: Alisa Woods
Cover by BZN Studio
My Dragon Keeper (Broken Souls 2)
When you’re destined to be the soul mate of a dragon, what’s love got to do with it?
Nothing makes any sense.
I wake up in a hospital bed with no memory of the last two weeks, no idea where I am, and a hot guy tending my every need. Well, not every need… not yet. But he’s hot as sin and twice as sweet.
Next thing I know, I’m confessing all my sins—and the darkness I’m still carrying inside.
What have I done that I can’t remember?
Then he starts talking about a magical race of dark elves and soul mates and… I’m running for the door.
Because I’ve finally cracked and none of this can be real.
Cinder’s a soft-hearted photographer. Aleks is a dragon whose time is running out… she might not be his soul mate, but try telling that to his heart.
My Dragon Keeper is a steamy dragon shifter romance that’ll heat up the sheets with love and warm your heart with dragonfire.
One
Aleksandr
Watching Cinder is like waiting for a bird with a broken wing to heal.
Only I don’t know what part of this gorgeous Dragon Spirit has been shattered. Her body is recovering—the dark circles under her eyes are gone; the cracked lips are healed. She’s coming back from being starved while captured by the Vardigah, the bastard dark elves who held her and did something to her. I’m sure she was taken because of us—because she was destined to be a soul mate to a dragon somewhere—and that hangs some fucking heavy guilt on my heart. But that’s not why I’m here. And it’s not why I haven’t left her side for more than a few minutes since we rescued her.
I made her a promise.
Two promises, actually. The first one was out loud for other people to hear. She said something about a girl named Julia, who she wanted me—us, someone—to rescue. She said it in one of her fevered states, so I don’t even know if that’s real… but I promised all the same. The second was a whisper for her alone. That I knew she was Dragon Spirited. That she would live and love and become the mate of some lucky dragon. Even if she hadn’t had the mark—the same as her twin sister, Ember, now mated to the Lord of our Lair—I could hear her dragon spirit in her feverish words. Not asking for help. Not crying out for comfort. But seeking help for someone else, someone trapped by an enemy that had waged a genocidal war on my people and nearly destroyed them. That was Cinder Dubois’ dragon spirit speaking directly to me, and once we were alone, I vowed to that spirit I would not leave her side until she was whole again. Not just the physical recovery from whatever the Vardigah had done, but whatever else she needed, including finding her other half—because that was the very least she deserved for all her suffering because of us.
Cinder makes a small murmuring noise. She shakes her head like she’s saying no, but then sinks deeper into the pillow. Her beautiful dark hair is fanned out across the white linens. The fever that blushed her pale cheeks for the first few days is gone. It’s been two weeks since Cinder returned, and she occasionally wakes and eats, but mostly, she sleeps. Her lips part in a sigh that captivates me. She’s talking more now—sometimes when she’s awake—but she’s still confused. Yet I hang on every word, looking for clues to help her heal. The human doctors can find nothing wrong with her, and dragons don’t need medicine—our bodies keep us healthy and youthful in appearance until the bitter end. Once upon a time, we’d give our blood to the witches, and they’d use it for healing spells for humans. I’d give blood for Cinder in a heartbeat, but those arts are lost now.
I’m waiting for her to say something after her sigh, but it doesn’t come. She just returns to her light, restless sleep, so I go back to gazing out the window.
We’re in the mated dragon’s honeymoon cottage, tucked in one of the Thousand Islands, but far from the lair’s castle. The cottage is a tiny place, built for privacy, and we’re hiding out here in case the Vardigah come back for her. We can’t risk them finding the lair and finishing us for good. But Nikolais—my friend and brother dragon—is on standby to teleport in and rescue her, should the Vardigah come hunting. Ember as well. They’re mated, so their powers include that ability among others. I’m standing guard and offering what I hope is comfort during Cinder’s recovery. Ember gets freaked during visits, so I think it helps her to know I’m always here.
Not that I would be anywhere else.
Cinder draws in an audible breath and opens her eyes.
I beam a smile and lean forward on my chair next to her bed. “Hello, sunshine.”
She squints. “Who’re you?”
It spears my chest—I keep hoping she’ll remember me from one time to the next. “I’m your friend. Aleks. Are you hungry? Lunch is waiting for you.”
She shakes her head, closing her eyes and leaning back into the pillow. I think maybe that’s it, but then she sucks in a breath and struggles to sit up. She’s still weak, even with the meals we’ve been able to get into her.
“Where are you going, beautiful?” I’m out of my seat, gripping her arm to help her rise while tapping the controller for the bed to raise the head. Nikolais ordered one of the hospital beds brought over from the hospice center for the lair.
“Bathroom.” She shoos away my help, but I know she’s not steady enough to go on her own. Getting close but not yet.
“I’ll get the nurse.” I tap the call button on the table at her bedside.
“Nurse?” Cinder peers up at me, confused, with those wide gorgeous eyes of hers. They’re amber near the pupil, blending with green along the outside, and edged with a dark blue-green that makes them just pop. They’re the same eyes that Ember has, but somehow Cinder’s are deeper. Or maybe just more broken. The rest of their features are nearly identical—same gorgeous curves, same porcelain skin—except Ember has a tiny birthmark on her cheek. That, and Cinder looks like she’s been tortured. They both have the birthmark on the inside of their wrists that shows them as Dragon Spirited.
“Here she comes.” I nod toward the door as it swings open, hoping to distract her until the nurse can scurry to her bedside.
“Ah, you are up again!” the nurse trills, hurrying across the room. She’s a short Indian woman with a delicate face, surprising strength, and a lovely singing voice, which she’s always using. She takes my place at Cinder’s side, grasping hold of Cinder’s arm to help her up. “Do we need to use the facility?”
“Are you the nurse?” Cinder asks, her brow wrinkling as she stands.
“Yes, dear. I’m Biti, remember? Let’s get you taken care of.” As the two shuffle-walk toward the restroom, the nurse starts to sing. “I hope when you decide, kindness will be your guide. Put a little love in your heart…”
I smile. Biti said something about music being soothing for memory patients, but I think she just likes to break into song. Cinder doesn’
Which gives me a moment to step outside.
I want to be there whenever Cinder awakens—that continuity might eventually put some pieces together—but I grab the chance to get some fresh air when I can. There’s a wide balcony off the back of the cottage, and it overlooks a lush garden. Fragrant flowers surround a small fountain, and past that, a wooden lover’s swing hangs from a vine-covered pergola. Every dragon in the lair dreams of finding their mate, bringing them here, and christening every inch of the place with their love-making. So far, we’ve only had six mated pairs—now seven with Niko and Ember, who are honeymooning at Niko’s retreat castle. I breathe in the flower scents and wonder if Cinder would return here with her mate, after she finds him. Would she want to come back to the place where she spent so much time in recovery?
I take the stone steps down from the balcony to the pathway and then past the fountain. The flowers in her room need refreshing, and the daylilies are just opening now that we’re moving into mid-summer. I pick a few, linger for a moment to soak in some sun and gaze at the sparkling blue water. When Cinder gets a little stronger, I want to bring her out to the bench swing and let the beauty of the garden banish some of the darkness that seems to plague her. I can’t decide if the amnesia is damage the Vardigah did or if it’s protection her mind has conjured for itself. When we rescued her, the chair she was strapped to had a nightmare assortment of steel appendages springing up from underneath. Maybe it’s better she doesn’t remember that. But this confused state is no good, either. She can’t find her mate that way. I didn’t know the person she was before, but her dragon spirit is strong—she’s fighting to get better every day—and I know she’d be happier as a mated dragon. She and her mate both have half of a soul. It’s part of her destiny.
As a dragon myself, I can speak to the loneliness of not fulfilling that destiny. Dragons weren’t meant to go two hundred years without mating. Eventually, our bodies give up the fight, but our hearts break long before that. A female dragon spirit will continue to be reborn, continue to seek her mate across centuries, but once the male dragon dies, her dragon spirit will pass with him. It’s possible that Cinder’s soul mate has already passed—maybe he was one of the withered we’ve lost recently. A new dragon seems to succumb every few weeks. But I feel certain her mate is still alive. I can’t be sure, but I just feel like her dragon spirit is still kicking, still hungering for her mate, which means her mate is out there somewhere.
I made a promise to help her heal and find him. And if he’s already gone, then I could do a lot worse than spend what’s left of my days in the company of someone as beautiful and strong as Cinder Dubois. Even as a friend, if that’s all we can be.
I take one last, long breath of the perfumed air, then I turn back to the cottage.
Back inside, Cinder and Biti are halfway to the bed. “Got some fresh lilies for you!” I say brightly, sweeping ahead of them to swap out the tired stems from two days ago. The vase sits on a table next to the bed, where her lunch is already waiting. Normally, honeymooners have the cottage to themselves, but we’ve brought in an entire staff to make sure Cinder’s cared for 24/7—cook and housekeeper, nurses in shifts. I sleep on the couch in the living room and shower in the second bathroom. Nikolais brings me fresh clothes. It’s a whole operation.
I step back so she can see the flowers, and she’s entranced, just like the last time. Biti lets her walk the few steps by herself to the table. Cinder’s eyes are wide, looking at me, not speaking but searching my face.
“Go ahead, they’re for you.” I smile. “The food, too. It’s time for lunch.” I say it with enthusiasm, hoping she’ll actually eat.
She cups the flowers with her thin-fingered hands and bends to put her face nose-deep into the fiery-orange Tigerlily blossoms. One sleeve of her nightgown slides down her shoulder. She doesn’t fix it, just straightens and says in a whisper, without looking back, “Thank you. They smell so nice.”
“My pleasure.” I exchange a brief, hopeful look with Biti—those are the most words strung together we’ve heard from her yet.
“I’ll leave you to lunch, then.” Biti encourages me with a flourish of her hands as she retreats from the room.
I step up behind Cinder and gently lift her sleeve back into place. “Would you like to sit for lunch?” I gesture to the chair where I was sitting before—I’ve eaten plenty of meals there—but she just shuffles back to the bed. I’d help her get in, but she manages it without me. Which is good. “Alright, the bed, then!” I trot across the room to retrieve the swing tray, the one that goes over the bed so she can eat there. With a flourish, I present her with a plate of grilled cheese and berries. She picks up one berry and puts it in her mouth. While she gets started on that, I take a seat and text her sister.
CINDER’S UP AND EATING. AND TALKING (SOME). GOOD TIME TO VISIT.
It takes a few seconds, then the reply comes back. TWO MINUTES.
COME IN THE NORMAL WAY. The last thing Cinder needs is her sister teleporting straight into the room.
When I look up, the berries are gone, and Cinder’s eating the sandwich with two hands. “How about some milk with that?” I spring up from my seat.
She blinks—too much—but nods as she chews. I have to peel off the extensive plastic the chef has wrapped around the cup, but I finally get it free. By the time I get it to her, she’s downed half the sandwich. Which is tremendous. So many good signs. I hand the milk to her. She closes her eyes and tips her head back to drink it. She’s gulping it down like she’s parched.
The need to simply talk starts me babbling. “The chef will make you anything you like. He put some sun tea on the front step yesterday—it’s probably ready by now. And there are more berries, I’m sure. Would you like some more?”
She’s finished drinking, setting down her cup on the tray with an extreme level of care. She has an adorable milk mustache I just want to reach over and wipe off, but that wouldn’t be cool. I take a seat instead. She’s not saying anything, just frowning at the tray and blinking.
“That’s fine.” My heart’s kind of sinking. “We’ll try it next time. Maybe for dinner.” I shut my mouth because my throat is closing up.
She slowly turns and squints at me. “Everything’s… fuzzy.” The words take great effort.
“I know.” I slide to the front of my chair. I want to go to her, hold her hand. “It’s going to be okay. You just need a little time.” I’m dying to close the distance between the chair and the bed and hold her hand—like I did when she was feverish. Back then, it didn’t seem to matter. She was so confused, couldn’t focus… touch was the only thing that soothed her. That, and my voice whispering reassurances in her ear as she thrashed. Now she’s awake enough to know that she doesn’t know me—or at least doesn’t remember me—and that makes everything harder.
She nods with my words, but that seems to draw her eyelids down. Before I can think of something else to say, she’s slumping her head back—only the pillow’s in the wrong place, and the head of the bed is raised too much for sleeping. I spring up and push the button to lower the bed, then reach behind her to hold her up while I adjust the pillow.
When I do, her eyes open again, and she gazes blearily up at me. “You take care of me.”
“Yes, I do.” We’re close enough I can feel her breath on my chest. “There you go.” The head of the bed is down now, and the pillow is in a comfortable spot. She settles into it and closes her eyes.
