Fated (Dragon Shifter Book 1) Read online

  Fated

  Exiled Kings Dragon Romance

  Naomi Sparks

  naomisparks.com

  Contents

  1. Lex

  2. Hannah

  3. Lex

  4. Hannah

  5. Lex

  6. Hannah

  7. Lex

  8. Hannah

  9. Lex

  10. Hannah

  11. Lex

  12. Hannah

  13. Hannah

  14. Lex

  15. Hannah

  16. Lex

  17. Hannah

  Also by Naomi Sparks

  1

  Lex

  The loud engines rumble through the streets, echoing off the small brick buildings. Tonight is pitch black and our headlights are doing more to illuminate the surroundings than the dull street lamps. If I didn't know any better, I'd swear this place is a ghost town, but I know these kinds of places well enough. They practically roll up the sidewalks once the sun goes down. The small town of Rockfoot, Wyoming is no different.

  But I also know towns like these well enough to know there'll be a bar somewhere around here. And considering my stomach is rumbling almost as much as my bike, I figure a bite to eat and a good, stiff drink is in order before we find a place to crash for the night. That’s the other thing a small town like this is bound to have - a cheap place to stay where people don't ask too many questions.

  There’s no way The Clutch will find us here. And that’s good enough for me. Maybe we aren’t on their radar anymore. I don’t know and I’m not about to find out. It’s better to not risk it.

  We've barely gone a mile before a big neon sign lights up a small, dingy parking lot. Gabe's Gut Buster. Beneath it there’s a faded, hand-painted sign, tacked on as an afterthought, reads Burgers & Brews.

  Well, it won't win any awards, but it sounds like the perfect place to get some food. I glance over at Galen, catching his eye, then motion toward the bar with my head. He nods his agreement and the six of us turn off into the parking lot.

  There are a handful of cars in the lot. This time of night on a Tuesday, it's likely to be only regulars at the bar. Not the best way to blend in, but most of the time, people in tacky bars don't ask too many questions. Unless there's trouble, when we move on tomorrow, none of them will remember us.

  "'Bout time we found somewhere to grab a drink," Galen says, stretching his muscles as he walks over to me. "I feel like I'm dying of thirst!"

  I roll my eyes. The man acts like we've been on the road for days on end without stopping so much as to take a piss. Galen is my second in command and I've known him nearly my entire life, but damn if I still don't want to smack him upside the head most days.

  Faris lets out a low chuckle as he approaches. Then, he slugs Galen in the arm. "Then let's get inside, my friend. We can't have you wasting away on us like a fairy princess!"

  That gets a laugh from me and the other guys while Galen flips us off. Despite the joking, I know everyone is hungry. We've been on the road since the sun up, only stopping to fill the bikes and empty our bladders. Sitting on a seat that's not vibrating beneath my ass will be a good change, though I don't expect plush seating in a place like this.

  When we walk in the door, all my suspicions are confirmed. A steady stream of smoke and twangy music flows out from the bar into the night. A handful of people are scattered around, most of them standing at the long wooden bar near the back of the room. Behind the bar a woman pours beer and talks to a man seated in front of her. She's got long brown hair tied up tight into a ponytail, and she’s moving with a practiced ease as she pours drink after drink for the men.

  For a moment, I stand there watching the woman work, oddly fascinated by her. Then, I snap out of my fog and spot a table to fit the six of us and nod toward it, the guys all follow my lead. We’ve barely sat our asses on the hard chairs when a pretty young gal in a much-too-small top bounds over to us, grins widely as she hands us sticky laminated menus.

  "Evenin' boys. Name's Glass. What can I get y'all?" She’s perky and bats her eyelashes at each of us. Clearly, she’s a practiced hand at this, pulling out all the stops for some road weary travelers, hoping to get a fat tip. Or a fat something else, maybe. She wouldn't be the first waitress we've met who’s more than happy to head back to the motel with us.

  Not that I’m all that interested in sharing my bed tonight. All I want is to stuff myself and crawl into bed to pass out. But hey, the others might have other needs.

  Still, I’m impressed the woman can look so chipper and upbeat, despite how she's running around constantly. I doubt she's sat down in the last couple of hours. I have to admire a girl with a good work ethic, even if she isn't my type.

  “Glass? Now that’s an interesting name. Does it have an interesting story behind it, too?” Ezra pipes up. He winks and then flashes her a smarmy grin. I read his need as looking to get laid tonight. I can’t say I’m too surprised. He’s the youngest in the crew by far and pussy is his top priority.

  “Of course,” Glass replies. “When I get out to Hollywood I want everyone to remember who I am.”

  Ezra eyes the girl’s curves and puckers his lips flirtatiously. “Girl, how could anyone forget a body like that?”

  Glass blushes a bit and then shakes her head. She’s heard it all before. “My name might be Glass, sugar, but I can still see right through you.”

  With that, Galen and the rest of the crew burst out laughing. Ezra shoots us all a dirty look and then shrugs with a smile. It was worth a try, but I can tell the game isn’t over for him tonight just yet.

  “So, what can I get everyone?” Glass asks.

  Everyone orders a beer and a burger, while I order myself an extra shot of tequila, hoping to shake whatever has been riding me all day.

  Glass brings our beers and my shot over first. I down it, feeling the burn slip through my body, warming me from the inside out. It soothes my entire body, my muscles loosening almost instantly.

  "So, what's the plan, boss?" Bren asks, eyeing me over his beer. He has a gold coin in his hand, flipping it between his fingers. It’s his usual habit to fiddle with the gold sovereign. The damn thing is worth a fortune these days, especially to collectors, but he treats it like a knickknack to keep his hands busy.

  I shrug and sip on my beer. "Same as usual, I figure. Grab a room for the night, then see what's going on in the morning."

  The guys all nod, accepting my plan without comment. None of them ever have much of an opinion on where to go or what to do. Lie low, keep to ourselves, and just live life. Settling down may sound appealing occasionally, but we all know the price that came with settling down.

  Better to keep on the move, keep roots from forming. It makes things easier in the long run. Especially when, for us, the long run is damn long.

  And yet, despite all that, I find my gaze constantly drifting over toward the brown-haired woman behind the bar. She's nothing like our happy-go-lucky waitress. She looks like no stranger to conflict. If I ever settle down with a woman, she's the type.

  A low growl slips from my lips, unnoticed over the chatter of the bar. What the hell am I thinking? Settling down. I've barely set eyes on the woman and here I am, forgetting myself. But there is something about her, something that draws me toward her. If I'd been smart, I'd have probably gotten back on my bike and hightailed it out of here.

  But I haven't gotten this far in life without listening to my instincts. And my instincts are telling me to keep an eye on her.

  When Glass comes back, we all order another round of beers. But instead of Glass bringing them over to us, it’s the woman from behind the bar. I fight to keep my emotions clamped down as she looks ove
r at me and smiles. Internally though, my heart pounds.

  Gods… her beauty is… it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like there’s a sweet, irresistible radiance that surrounds her. I’m struck by it, rendered speechless.

  It’s only made worse when she hands me my beer and our hands touch. Fire flares up inside me as my heart seems to stop beating. It’s all I can do to keep myself under control as her scent fills my nostrils. I want to pick her up and carry her to the nearest hotel and claim her as mine, to not let anyone else near her.

  The woman locks eyes with me after giving everyone their beers. It’s obvious she wants to say something. Did she feel the same spark between us as I had? Or is it something else? Does she know what we are, what I am? She smells human. Delicious, but human, so I doubt she can tell.

  Before either of us can say anything an older man, probably in his late fifties, with a bulging beer gut, yells across the bar. "Oy, Hannah!" The woman looks over at him and he waves to her. "Need ya to come finish this for me, my dear."

  Hannah nods to him, then looks back over at me with an apologetic smile. It isn't until I return her smile and give her a half shrug that she finally walks back over behind the bar again, my gaze fixed on her the entire way.

  If any of the guys notice our brief interaction, they don't say anything. Then again, they all know when to keep their mouths shut, even if they had noticed. No one ever accused my guys of being stupid, after all.

  I try to focus on the conversation, but my attention keeps returning to the woman behind the bar. Now and then, she'll glance my way. We'll lock eyes, then she'll turn back to the customers sitting in front of her. It’s tempting to go sit up at the bar, but I know that will just raise more questions with the guys.

  They may know to keep their mouths shut on occasion, but that doesn’t mean they aren't nosy as hell. Those bastards gossip more than a group of old church wives.

  At one point, when I look over at the bar, Hannah isn't there anymore. I barely have time to frown when I sense something behind me. Turning, I see her walking over with Glass, both of them carrying plates of food. Hannah, I notice, is the one carrying mine. Is it on purpose? Or just coincidence?

  But as long as I've lived, if I've learned one thing, it’s that there’s no such thing as coincidences. There is always a reason for everything. It just sometimes isn't all that obvious what the reason is until much later. Which makes me wonder why this attraction to a woman whose name I barely know is so strong.

  "Enjoy your meal," Hannah says as she sets my plate in front of me.

  I nod at her, not even looking at the burger. Its scent is completely overpowered by her sweet pheromones. Even the scent of smoke is masked. My nostrils flare as I breathe in deep, letting it wash over me. God, at this rate, she’s going to drive me absolutely insane. "Thank you," I reply, my voice low and gravelly.

  The two of us lock eyes again for a moment before Glass drags her away. While the guys dig into their food like the pack of dragons they are, my gaze follows Hannah across the dingy bar until she disappears into the kitchen again. It’s only then I turn my attention to the food in front of me.

  The burger is big and greasy, piled high with enough toppings to kill a normal human, which is just the way I liked it. Gut Buster is an apt term for the jalapeno loaded burger.

  Glass comes over again with a load of fresh beers for us, shaking her ass and batting her eyelashes. She sure knows how to work the men around her. The others eat up her little routine, especially Ezra, but I barely glance her way.

  "I'm fixin' to head out for the night. You boys need anything else before I go?" Glass says.

  The others shake their head but Ezra blurts out. “How about your number?”

  “I really shouldn’t,” Glass answers him and looks carefully around the bar for the owner, but then rustles his long, raven-black hair playfully. “You’re cute, though.”

  “C’mon,” Ezra pleads, “You know we’ll have a good time. That’s my personal guarantee.”

  Glass relents with an exaggerated sigh and then gives Ezra a coy smile. “OK, fine. Give me a call later on, cutie.”

  As soon as she hands him her number, Ezra shoves it in his pocket and sticks his tongue out at Galen. “Told you, man! Ha!”

  “I can’t friggin’ believe it,” Galen mutters and lets out a low grumble.

  Glass rolls her eyes at the men and seems for a moment to regret her decision. "Anyway, boys- Hannah over behind the bar will take good care of you now. Have a good night!"

  At Hannah's name, I perk up a bit. Immediately, I glance over at where she’s pouring another drink for a big, burly man, laughing at something he said. A regular of hers, I guess, as I watch her interact with him.

  "Hey boss, I think we’re heading out," Galen says, snapping me out of my day dream. He jerks his thumb towards a smiling Ezra. “I gotta get the hell out of here before all this gloating drives me nuts.”

  I nod. As much as I want to find a bed to crash in, I’m not ready to leave the bar just yet. Something tells me to stay, and I trust my instincts. "Go find us somewhere to hole up for the night. I'll be here a bit longer," I answer back.

  Galen raises an eyebrow, but he nods and doesn't question my instructions. The guys finish off their beers, then head out, leaving me sitting at the table by myself. Not that I mind very much. It gives me time to sit and think without having to pretend to listen to their conversations.

  When Hannah notices everyone has left, she wanders over and starts collecting the dishes. "Your friends all ditch you for the night?" she asks with a cheeky smile.

  "I told them to head out without me. Figured I'd hang out around here longer." I lean back in my chair and study her. She’s good looking, but in a very different way than Glass. She has a more natural beauty about her, with more curves and definition. Unlike Glass, she isn't doused in make-up and flowery perfume, her hair isn't held together with enough hairspray to burn down the bar. Instead, Hannah smells sweet, real, and her hair is tied up by a simple pink ribbon.

  Definitely my kind of girl.

  "Can I get you anything then?" she asks, her eyes going up and down me. I wonder briefly what she sees when she looks at me. Does she see just another lonely traveler? Or can she see the dragon deep inside me? Am I her type or is she just being friendly because it’s her job?

  It’s too bad the legends about dragons reading minds aren't true. I'd kill to see into hers right now. But then, most of the legends of our kind are far from the truth. Not that that stopped the humans from hunting us though, which is why we keep mostly to ourselves.

  "Another beer would be great," I say with a smile. Not that I really want another, but it'll mean having her come back over, rather than staring at her across the bar like a stalker.

  "My pleasure." She returns my smile, and it’s like the entire bar lit up right then. It isn't until she walks back over to the bar that I let myself frown over my reaction.

  What the hell had gotten into me? She’s just a woman, no different from any of the millions of others I've met over the centuries. So why does this particular woman, in this podunk little town, have such an effect on me?

  It’s a bit unsettling, but again, I’m not going to doubt my instincts. So, when Hannah brings my beer, I smile at her again. "What time do you get off tonight?" If our waitress had already left, is the bar closing soon? Or will Hannah be the one taking care of everyone for a while?

  Hannah's eyes go wide, and she stumbles over her words, her cheeks turning pink. "In a couple hours," she finally manages to get out. She’s embarrassed, definitely, but I can also smell the fear on her, mixed with attraction. She's nervous about me, about a stranger suddenly taking interest in her.

  And yet, she's clearly interested.

  She's a woman full of contradiction, and it intrigues me. I like a challenge, a bit of mystery. Women like Glass, who were pleasant enough, held no appeal to me because they were too easy to read, to understand. If I
was going to fall for a woman, then it needed to be one who could keep me on my toes, keep me guessing.

  After a few moments of silence, Hannah mumbles something, then shuffles back off to the bar again.

  I sip on my beer, but I'm not really interested in it. Getting drunk off cheap beer wasn't part of my plan. Instead, I study Hannah as she interacts with the other patrons and the big-bellied man I guess is Gabe. She moves with grace and elegance but without the fragility I usually see in women. She carries herself in a way that tells me she doesn't lean on anyone, that she can handle herself.

  Definitely a rarity lately, I muse as I watch her joke with two of the men sitting at the bar. They tell her a crass joke and she shoots one right back at them, leaving them guffawing. Whether those jokes are a part of her personality, I’m not sure, but if not, she’s capable of adapting to her surroundings.

  She comes over every little while to chat. I order a beer again each time, though they all sit untouched. When she brings over the sixth one, she sets it down, then stares at me, hands on hips. "You planning on drinking them all at once?"

  "Not planning on drinking them at all," I tell her, honestly, and flash a grin. Something compels me to speak truthfully to her, so I do. "But I figure it's an easy excuse for you to keep coming over to chat."

  For someone who works in a bar, she doesn't seem used to having someone flirt with her. Do the men in this town not see her natural beauty, her strength? "Well, ain't that sweet of you." She glances around the bar, but there are only a few people left. Then, she shakes her head before smiling at me and pulling out the chair next to me and sitting down. "Guess I might as well sit and chat with you for a time. What's your name?"