Prince of ashes the drag.., p.1
Prince of Ashes: The Dragon Rebels, page 1
Prince of Ashes
The Dragon Rebels Book 1
Fae Lennox
Copyright © 2022 Fae Lennox
All rights reserved
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
I dedicate this book to Brianna, my best friend.
Chapter 1
Jax looked at the driver’s license, then to the young woman that stood before him. She gave him a shy, hopeful smile. Jax sighed as she fidgeted with the hem of her dress. “This isn’t you,” Jax said, his tone flat. He was already tired of the night, and his shift had just begun. ”Can’t let you in.”
The photo on the card showed a blonde woman with blue eyes in her early thirties. The girl probably wasn’t even eighteen and had brunette hair.
Her eyes weren’t even blue.
The girl deflated. She bit her lip and cast a nervous, questioning glance at her date. She looked scared. She looked too young to be at a club in this part of town, wearing a dress that was a size too small.
Her date, a lean man in a sport coat, stepped up to Jax. He towered over Jax and cocked an eyebrow.
He was old… too old for this girl.
His hair grayed at the temples, and he left the top few buttons of his shirt undone, exposing a bit of silver chest hair. Immediately, Jax knew the man’s type. He’d seen it a dozen times before.
“It is her,” the old man said.
Jax gritted his teeth and looked up at the man. He despised men like him. They were entitled, arrogant assholes. They thought a little bit of money, a little bit of authority gave them the right to be a scumbag.
Without looking away from Jax, the old man reached a hand down and caressed the girl’s hips, then her ass. The girl became very still, her cheeks lost some of their color, but she didn’t stop him.
The old man grinned.
Jax stood up from his stool and stepped forward. They stood eye to eye, only a few inches apart.
Jax felt a warmth building in his chest. His blood was hot, coursing down his arms and legs like fire. He clenched his fists.
The man, to his credit, didn’t back away.
The old fool didn’t know what he was up against.
The next few people waiting in line backed away, avoiding the impending confrontation. The girl with the fake ID trembled, but didn’t move.
“Don’t make a scene, kid. Let us in.”
“Go fuck-”
A firm hand gripped Jax’s shoulder from behind, cutting him off.
“Don’t mind Jax, he hasn’t been feeling well lately, head on in. Have a great night,” Paul said, taking his place beside Jax.
Paul squeezed Jax’s shoulder with strength that would’ve crushed a human. Jax tensed as the old man and his poor date walked past them, but he didn’t move. His anger, his fury screamed at him from within, but he didn’t act.
Once they were inside, Paul called over a different bouncer and pulled Jax aside. “What the hell was that?” Paul asked.
“I should be asking you that question. He shouldn’t be allowed in,” Jax hissed. Paul let go of Jax’s shoulder and ran his hands through his hair. He groaned and looked up.
Jax was angry, furious even, but he calmed himself. Paul was a friend, regardless of how different they were.
Paul, the slick party goer that was quick to make friends, and Jax, the hardass that looked so angry that most didn’t dare approach him. Jax liked it that way.
They were opposites in many ways. Paul was tan, and blond with long hair. He was usually smiling, but not at the moment. With Jax’s dark messy hair and grim face, they made an odd pair.
“I agree, but that doesn’t mean you should kill him, Jax. I saw your heart burning, don’t deny it. What the hell was that?”
Jax looked away, his hand instinctively going to his chest. He didn’t dare say it, but he knew what the old man was doing. His gut told him something was wrong, and his gut was rarely wrong.
“You would’ve ripped his head off with one swing. Then what?”
Paul lowered his voice, “What if you shifted? How would we contain three dozen people that swear they saw a man turn into a dragon on main street? How many of those people would even survive to tell the story?”
Jax let out a slow breath.
“I can control myself.”
“You’ve said that before,” Paul said.
Jax’s face contorted in pain, but only for an instant. He put on a strong face and met Paul’s eyes.
“I can control myself,” Jax said.
Paul met Jax’s gaze. He was searching for something, but Jax didn’t know what. Silence stretched between them and only the muted dance music inside the club filled the space. Finally, Paul took a deep breath.
“Jax, you’re like a brother to me. We grew up together, I give it to you straight,” Paul said. “The other guys… they are afraid of your dad, they are afraid of what you will become.” “Not tonight, Paul. I’m tired,” Jax said.
“You need to go home, man. Take your rightful place. How many more years do you need to find yourself?” Paul asked.
Paul glanced down at Jax’s chest, then cocked an eyebrow.
In Jax’s chest beat the heart of a dragon. The heart of a dragon could not be tamed. His chest gave off a gentle red light, like the coals of a dying fire. It shone through his shirt, pulsing with the beat of his heart.
“Calm yourself, Jax. I just want to be honest with you,” Paul said. He glanced around, looking for anyone else that noticed. No one seemed to be paying attention. Whenever a dragon shifter felt the rage start to build, their heart burned. It urged them to shift, urged them to let their primal selves take control.
Jax looked down, ashamed. He pulled his coat shut until it covered the light he was giving off.
“I’m going to take a break,” Jax said.
“Jax,” Paul called as Jax stalked towards the employee entrance to the bar. Jax looked back, teeth gritted.
“Nothing reckless, alright?”
Jax grunted.
Chapter 2
Sasha hated clubs.
She hated the noise. She hated the smell. She hated all those bodies packed into such a tight space. The music was bad and always too loud. You had to yell just to talk to someone. Why then, would her friends insist on bringing her to one every weekend? Probably because she was the only one with a car in the cities.
It drove her nuts.
If Sasha was being honest with herself, it wasn’t really her friend’s fault. She’d never told them she hated clubs.
So, arms folded across her chest, she waited in line with her friends. She felt out of place in her brightly colored, modest sun dress. Her two best friends, Jess and Frankie, were wearing skin tight, cheetah print mini skirts and tank tops.
They both had platinum blonde hair and big breasts. With their matching lipstick, they looked like some sort of twins.
How did they even move in those skirts?
Sasha didn’t look like she belonged. Her skin was as white as it came, and her brunette hair fell in natural curls.
Frankie and Jess were excitedly talking about whatever guy they were interested in at the moment. Sasha found it easy to tune out.
So, when she noticed them both staring at her, she pushed up her thick rimmed glasses, brushed some hair out of her face, and tilted her head.
“What was that?” She asked.
“We were asking you when you were going to get a man,” Frankie said, playfully shoving Sasha’s shoulder.
Sasha groaned inwardly, but kept her face passive.
It was the same question every weekend.
“You guys know school has been keeping me busy. I don’t have time for that stuff.” “You should’ve picked an easier major,” Jess said, rolling her eyes.
Sasha forced a laugh.
Frankie laughed and squeezed Sasha’s shoulder.
“Maybe we will find someone for you tonight,” she said.
This time, Sasha couldn’t hide her cringe. They did this every night they went out. All evening they would discuss Sasha’s prospects of ‘getting’ a man. Then, without effort or consideration, each of them was swept away by some sleazy looking ass with the right pick-up line.
Why do I still do this?
Sasha blocked out the chattering of her friends as they inched up the line. There was some kind of scuffle a few spaces before them, but the line kept moving, and soon, they were in the club.
This club, supposedly nicer, newer, and more exclusive than the last one they went to, looked like all the others. The lighting was dark and the music shook Sasha’s chest. The bar was hidden behind a mass of people shouting for drinks.
Jess and Frankie screamed with joy and immediately started dancing. This was their song, apparently.
“I’ll get drinks,” Sasha mouthed to them, her voice drowned out by the music. They handed her some cash and she slid towards the bar. She found a quiet corner of the bar to wait at. Money held halfheartedly in front of her, she settled on a bar stool. With any luck, it would take a while before the bartender noticed her.
After a few minutes, her mind started to wander. Fir
Lastly, she started longing for a boy friend. Normally, she resisted the urge to daydream about it, but tonight her mood was already sour. She didn’t know what he would look like or how he would act, but she couldn’t help feeling that someone out there would be the right one for her.
Who knows, maybe her friends were right? Maybe he could come up, tap her on the shoulder, and sweep her away, out of this place and back to a… cozy coffee shop maybe? A museum?
Just then, as if by magic, someone tapped gently on her shoulder.
Sasha turned, startled. Her heart fluttered at the thought. Could it really be that easy? Had she manifested her dreams to come true?
Sasha brushed a little hair from her face, blushed, and looked up at the man. He was… old.
The man towered over her, already too close for her comfort. He had some gray hairs, and a grin that seeped arrogance. The way he looked at her, like she was a thing to be coveted… it made her skin crawl.
“Yes?” she asked.
“Saw you here all alone, thought I’d come offer you conversation and a drink.” The man adjusted his sport coat, flaunting it for Sasha.
“Don’t you have a date or something?” Sasha asked, her voice sounded weaker than she wanted. She’s seen her friends shoot down guys like this all the time, but she just didn’t have the confidence for it.
“One too many drinks for her. She is in the bathroom, sick,” He said, then he winked. “She didn’t hold a candle to you, anyway.”
Without an invitation, the old man sat beside her. He was too close, she could feel his heat. His cologne overpowered her.
She looked around, eyes wide. Her friends were gone.
Should she yell? Should she tell him to go away? If only she wasn't so terrified she could just walk away… if only.
She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a croak. The old man noticed and laughed. Then he rolled his eyes.
Just then, two men wearing all black walked past. With jaws set and eyes sweeping the room, they had to be security. Their presence alone seemed to split the crowd. They were looking for something…
Sasha met their eye and nodded. She tried to gesture to the old man, but they didn’t spare her another glance. Didn’t they care? Couldn’t they tell how uncomfortable she was? She only had one thing left to do. Sasha turned and started to stand.
A strong, weathered hand gripped her thigh. It pulled her back and held her in place. She sat, trembling.
“Good girl,” the old man growled. “Don’t be rude. I’ll get you something strong.”
Chapter 3
Jax wasn’t going to be reckless. He respected Paul, and he owed him for getting him work at this club.
Jax wasn’t going to be reckless… until he saw the old bastard again.
When the blood of a dragon courses through your veins, letting go was difficult to do. Paul should’ve known better than to let Jax back in the club.
Though his coat covered it, he could feel his chest glowing in anticipation of the conflict. His rage swelled, unchecked.
How terrified must his date be? How disgusted must she feel to get forced to a club like this? What of her parents? Did they know what she was experiencing?
Jax breathed out, trying to calm himself.
This wasn’t his club. It wasn’t his business. He could not afford to make a scene… not at his newest job.
But damnit, it wasn’t right.
There he was, in his stupid sport coat. His back was to Jax, and he seemed to be chatting with someone, but Jax couldn’t see who.
Jax's body shivered with the anticipation of the fight. He felt the thrill of conflict rising in his blood.
He hated that he loved it so much, but he walked up to the man regardless. It was his nature, after all.
Jax grabbed the man’s shoulder and turned him around. The man shook Jax’s hand off as he turned and cursed.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?” the man asked.
“I changed my mind. You have to leave,” Jax said, fists clenched.
“I don’t give a damn what you think. You’re a nobody. Interrupt my night again, and I’ll make sure you’re fired,” the man said.
The man moved to shove Jax, but Jax grabbed one of his hands before it reached him.
As a dragon shifter, Jax was stronger than an average man, faster too. The old man looked down at his hand, caught tight in Jax’s grip. He wasn’t scared or angry, but his eyes were wide with shock.
Then, Jax squeezed.
The noise that came from the man’s hand was somewhere between twigs snapping and wet paper being crumpled. Unfortunately, the noise of the music covered most of the crunch, but it didn't help drown out the man’s scream.
A few people turned to look, but quietly backed away once they noticed the altercation. The best part wasn’t the scream or the way the old bastard writhed against Jax’s strength, but the feel of his ruined hand. Twisted at impossible angles, the remains of the hand twitched in Jax’s grip.
After a long moment, Jax let go. The old man slumped, cradling his hand. Jax leaned in and spoke softly.
“Make another sound and I’ll take your other hand. Leave without a word and never come back.”
The old man, who was sweating visibly, wiped spittle from his lip. His mouth opened, as if to curse at Jax. He met Jax’s eye and wilted. A part of Jax screamed to continue the fight. The dragon within wanted a challenge. He needed to beat his chest and draw blood from this man.
Head hung low and hand still cradled to his chest, the man ran out of the club. He shoved past Paul, who immediately looked up. Paul wasn’t angry, but he deflated a little as he looked away from Jax. Coming from Paul, that was worse than anger.
Jax took a deep breath, and he felt his dragon’s fury retreat. With effort, he controlled his rage, his thirst for battle. Underneath his coat his glow would be fading. As the anger retreated, cold, oppressive shame took its place.
He truly was his father’s son.
He pressed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples with shaking hands. He’d have to leave this place, now. He’d only been in the city for a few months, but it had almost felt like home. Almost.
Jax opened his eyes, and everything changed.
A young woman, slender and pale, stood before him. She was at least a head shorter than Jax, and she’d been on the other side of the old man. Jax hadn’t noticed her, as consumed with rage as he was.
She was wearing a colorful dress that didn’t fit with the club. Everyone here was in black, leather, or barely anything at all. No, not this woman, she looked as if she was prepared for a sunny walk on the beach. She was pure, vibrant light illuminating a dark horizon.
Jax took another breath. The air was sweeter, fuller somehow. It was as if he’d never taken a full breath in his life.
Her eyes captivated him. Stripes of dark green mixed with brown so bright it was almost gold. Her hazel eyes were wide as she stared back at him. She didn’t seem to notice the chunk of curled hair that fell in front of her face.
Something in Jax’s soul pulled him towards her. He needed to be near this woman until the end of his days. He needed to protect her. He needed to provide for her. He could feel her warmth, even at arm’s length.
He needed to take her.
Jax cleared his throat and pushed all of the passion aside. Though his soul rejoiced at the thought of finding his life-mate, his mind knew better.
This just made things very, very complicated.
Chapter 4
Sasha blinked.
Then she blinked again.
Her mind couldn’t process what was going on. First, she was being harassed by a creep at the bar, then some guy, who had no business being so hot, walked up and crushed his hand. Like, really crushed his hand.
Sasha shivered as she remembered the series of snaps followed by the pathetic whimpering.
