PROLOGUE
CARINA
“It’s saidthe one with the mate mark of the dragon is meant for one but can choose any. She will not be able to resist her mate or any other except of her own free will. The pull of which will be nearly as powerful to the one true, nearly as much as it will be of her decision. ‘Tis up to the dragon, who is meant to be her fated above all others, to prove to her that he wants her. That she’ll be beloved over any other.”
I’ve heard that very saying since I was a little girl, and my grandmother was able to grill it into my head. As a little girl, I loved hearing the stories of the dragon mark. It made me feel special because I had the exact mark my grandmother spoke about. I used to run around saying I was going to marry a dragon.
This did not go well for me. I became the target for bullies. I was hit, kicked, and tormented until I finally had enough and moved away.
In moving away, I refused to think about the dragon mark or wanting to marry a dragon again. I didn’t want it. Didn’t need it.
My life now is perfectly fine without the idea of some fairy tale coming true.
Okay, so not exactly a fairy tale, I knew there were supernatural beings out there in the world. My own brother, Cason, was a dragon for Pete’s sake, just as all males in our family are.
Our lineage goes back to the beginning of time, when dragons roamed the earth in millions. Now, they’re scarce and typically stay to themselves.
As my grandmother told me the story, she told the very same to Cason. Our parents had died the day after I was born. All because of my birth. It had gone unnoticed that my mother wasn’t okay. She ended up having a clot that dislodged and killed her. In turn, killing my dad as well because they were bonded.
My grandparents had taken us in, loving us as they had always. They made sure I knew I was loved and that I would never feel the loss of my parents. Doesn’t mean it always worked.
Grandmother’s story doesn’t pop into my head as much as it used to, but still, it does every so often. This time is just laughable because my brother found his mate. It’s the reason I’m even back in town. To celebrate with him and my family.
It’s weird being back. I haven’t been since I escaped this forsaken town. No matter where my work takes me, I always steer clear of Windsor, Virginia. Sure, it’s pretty, and when the leaves turn, it’s even better, but not enough to bring me back here for anything.
Only Cason’s wedding could do that. Though from what he said, he’s not having a wedding. Not really. They’re just doing a celebration at some address he sent to me, all but demanding my presence.
Considering I had a few days before I had to leave for my next story, I write travel articles for a living. Not just articles. I had a full blog and website dedicated to my work. I love traveling and going to so many different places around the world. Best of all is writing about them and sharing the uniqueness of those places.
It’s a great way to make a living and my grandparents sometimes even join me. Cason, not so much. He has his own life he’s living, and I can’t blame him.
I wish I didn’t have to come back here.
My phone rings, pulling me out of my thoughts as I pull down the road leading to the address. I glance at the car’s screen to see who it is and hit the cancel button on the steering wheel. For the past several months, I’ve been getting calls from unknown numbers. Never the same number. At first, I thought the calls were creepy because no one really spoke, they just would breathe and hang up. Now, I think it’s annoying. I’d change my number if I could, but it would be too much of a headache to switch everything over.
I let out a frustrated sigh as my phone starts to ring yet again, but when I look at the screen, it’s Cason’s name.
“I’m almost there,” I answer, slowing as the GPS says I’m nearly there. “I’m about to pull in now.”
“Good, I’ll stay on and make sure the prospect doesn’t give you any grief at the gate,” Cason remarks gruffly through the speakers.
“Prospect?” I question, confused. “Why do I need to stop at a gate?” I don’t wait for him to answer as I see said gate and roll my window down. A guy with a well-manicured beard trimmed close to his face steps from the little building that they have to the side.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” the guy asks.
“Let her through prospect,” Cason says through the speakers.
“You got it, Inferno.”
Inferno?
What the hell?
“Why did he just call you Inferno?” I ask as I pull through the opening gate.
“We’ll talk about it when you get up here. Just follow the road the rest of the way to the clubhouse. The grandparents are here and waiting with me and Francie.”
Francie was the woman he found to be his mate. I don’t know anything about her other than she’s the assistant manager at a bar.
