Driven by Dragonblood Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2019 Lynn Burke

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-970-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For Jennifer, Tina, & Fabiola, my lovies.

  DRIVEN BY DRAGONBLOOD

  Blood Born, 3

  Lynn Burke

  Copyright © 2019

  Chapter One

  Primrose

  “Looking for crazies, huh?” The old woman peered up at me from the park bench with watery, blue eyes, not a hint of an inner beast within her whispering to me.

  I smiled, knowing humans responded better to kindness than the anger her words simmered to life inside me. “Some people’s inner thoughts can take on a mind of their own. Not everyone who hears voices has mental issues.”

  She snorted, lips pressed in a tight line, and glanced around the small park, the first of many such stops I’d made while traveling around northern Arizona.

  I’d gone into Jackson Hole enough times to know the older humans liked to talk the most, full of stories—gossip, lore, and truth. Weeding through the fantastical proved harder for me, especially since I hadn’t spent much time around humans in my twenty-two years. I’d also found that while the older human generation answered the most questions, they had similar people skills like my own—almost non-existent.

  At least I had a reason for my behavior.

  “What do you want with people like that?” the woman asked, without looking at me. “They’re the ones who shoot up schools and blow themselves up for their religion.”

  “Have you heard any good gossip lately about people hearing voices? Do you know anyone personally?” I forced myself to ask—again—rather than storm off for reasons she would never be able to fathom, ones that a recluse like me understood perfectly well.

  Another snort of sarcastic laughter shook her shoulders. “All kinds of crazies like that over at Lockwood.”

  “Lockwood?”

  “Hospital for the crazies.”

  I blinked, never once thinking that perhaps the humans would lock up people who claimed to hear voices to the extent I did—I was far from mentally unstable. “Can you tell me where this Lockwood is located?”

  Wrinkled hand waving toward the west, she muttered something about the next town over, one also buried near the Grand Canyon with hardly a population worth mentioning. “Plenty of them crazies you’re looking for over there.”

  For a month, I had made my way south from my cavern home in the Grand Teton in the hopes of finding blood born from the third ancient family on North America’s continent. My grandfather had claimed their ancestral home lay in the Grand Canyon, so I forced myself to go from town to town as I drew near the national park combing the streets and trying at small talk, hoping, praying to my own ancestors in the stars, that I would hear the voice, feel the energy pull of those fate planned for me.

  I’d had zero luck in the month since I’d left my cavern home, but watery-eyed woman had given me the first sense of hope I still might find them.

  Not bothering with a thanks or even a good day toward the ignorant old fool, I stood and ambled back the way I’d come from the trees beyond the park.

  My grandfather’s alpha male had asked me if I’d gotten out much after walking in on him and their female without knocking, so I guess my lack of interaction with humans showed. For those with inner voices, however, I had zero difficulty reading and understanding. That was, until I left the Teton area and flew south in search of my own mates.

  I had met many humans, some with enough dragonblood their inner beasts spoke with me even though their humans knew nothing of their existence. Some also had various voices inside—ones I didn’t recognize as human or dragonblood. I noted, too, the latter humans had even less people skills than I.

  One man I had attempted to speak to drooled all over himself as he stared, unseeing from his perch on a similar bench as the woman I’d left behind. At least six voices had whispered in his head, all of them sputtering absolute nonsense. I’d left him as I found him, alone, and me, none the wiser in finding the two who belonged to me.

  One alpha, one beta—my two mates, the ones I would need to procreate and rebuild the dragonblood line on earth. While I longed for the sexual hunger my grandfather experienced with his two fated mates, I had yet to meet anyone, human or dragonblood, who could make my body burn, yearn for my first sexual encounter.

  My inner dragon purred at the possibility one of the two I searched for might be in the next town.

  Once out of sight of the small park, I stripped out of my clothing, stuffed them in the new duffle bag I had bought myself, and closed my eyes. Communicating with my inner dragon came easy as breathing, my mind’s desire to shift and cloak myself from sight rippling through my physical body like a bend of light, morphing my human form into that of a pale golden dragon, the same color of my waist-length hair, spines, claws, and all.

  Front claws of my left foot wrapped tight to my duffle, I launched into the air, destination Lockwood.

  On the day I had turned eighteen, my human grandmother had added me to her bank account, one richly donated to by the grandfather who just recently found out I existed. Money for my travels wouldn’t be an issue, but I found the motels and hotels much less accommodating and comfortable than the cavern I’d grown up in, even if the amenities of my childhood home were severely outdated.

  And the noise…

  Engines, radios, humans chattering—vastly different than the solitude of Grand Teton and the quiet wildlife interested only in surviving.

  Cloaked and slowly flapping my wings, I soared toward the setting sun, breathing deep as always, hoping for a hint of the scents that would bring my body to life. The ragged cliffs and deep, ancient openings of the earth lay below to my right in muted tones of red, brown, and gray, the deepest parts hidden from sight as the sun sank. A different beauty than the snow-capped mountains of my home, but no less stunning.

  It was a good twenty plus degrees warmer in northern Arizona than home for fall, with absolutely no hint of snow or ice far below me, and for the briefest second, I found myself missing home, the comforts of that which I’d known, the full-blooded dragonblood grandfather I had barely gotten to know before taking off to seek my own fate.

  A small town lay a bit to the south along a snaking highway, so I banked slightly and drew closer, my dragon sight allowing me to easily focus in on buildings and cars. No hint of male dragonblood floated on the breeze from my height, so I circled until I found the hospital watery-eyes woman had spoken of.

  Invisible to the human eye and my cloaking extended to my duffle bag, I made to land a ways off the beaten path and into a stand of trees. Once shifted into my human form, I pulled my leggings, a bra—something I’d hardly worn while living in seclusion and hated with a passion—and a long-sleeve tunic that fell to mid-thigh. My favorite ballet flats, easy to tear through should I need to shift in a hurry, pinched more than I would have liked, and I told myself I would finally buy myself some new clothing at the next store I found.

  I breathed in the soothing scents of spruce and juniper from the surrounding trees, and still finding no hint of dragonblood
in the air, I started off toward town. A small motel on the outskirts offered me a place to lay my head for the night, and once I stowed my duffle bag away in my rented room, I started off in the direction of Lockwood.

  My heart thumped heavier than usual, and I couldn’t keep from smiling. Would fate smile down on me? Would she be so kind as to offer me my two mates so early in my search?

  Yes.

  The voice in my head purred at the same time a slight tingle of energy slid over me. My head jerked toward the hospital’s closest wing, the two-story white building sterile in appearance without a hint of beauty landscaped below. Bars lined the windows, and my brow furrowed at the thought one of my males would be held against his will.

  My dragon growled in my chest, and I bit my lip to keep it contained as humans approached me on the sidewalk. I didn’t bother forcing a smile or replying to their greeting, my focus flitting from window to window of the hospital’s wing, wondering which one shut me out from him.

  Beta.

  I pulled up short, fingers threading through the chain link fence along the hospital’s perimeter, allowing my dragon to take over my wandering gaze since her instincts far outshone those of my human form.

  Energy rippled over the mostly-empty parking lot on the other side of the fence, the tether of energy leading up to the second floor … third window from the building’s end.

  He is there.

  “Yes,” I whispered my agreement with my inner dragon, feeling the energy linking us strengthening enough I could almost feel it like a physical caress across my fingers. Warmth woke between my thighs for the first time, and I gasped at the luscious dampness, the slight pulse of need for my mate as my nipples tightened.

  Biting my lip against the whine building inside me, I stared at his window as the sun cast its last rays overhead in a final attempt to keep the night at bay.

  Did he feel me as I did him? Did he communicate with his inner dragon to the extent he knew who and what he truly was?

  I clutched at the fence, unmoving except for the gnawing of my inner lip as doubts plagued me and the minutes slipped past. What if the voice had driven him to madness? What if the ability to think rationally, to understand the truth of his circumstances, lay beyond his grasp?

  Darkness fell, and I glanced around, making sure no one watched me before cloaking myself, becoming a shadow in the coming twilight. My attention once more returned to the hospital, and I forced away the negative thoughts, determined to find a way inside and free my beta from his prison.

  Chapter Two

  Jaxon

  My new roommate snored like a madman.

  I snorted on a laugh and rolled to face the window. It wasn’t my first time at Lockwood—but it would certainly be my last. The appeal I’d sent to the court system came back in my favor, and since my three-month mark in the joint had come and gone, I would be released. Add to that fact I’d turned eighteen two weeks prior and my parents would no longer be my keepers—not that they’d wanted to from the time I first told them about the voice in my head.

  My paternal grandmother had been schizophrenic, and thinking she could fly, had thrown herself off one of the south rim viewpoints of the Grand Canyon long before I’d been born. Unfortunately, I seemed to inherit the inner voice that promised me wings would sprout from my back if only given a chance.

  The first time I listened to the voice, I ended up with two broken legs, and six surgeries later, could pretty much run like a normal guy my age. I would never be a gold medalist in the hundred meters at the Olympics, but as long as I could chase the ladies, I was content.

  The second, third, and fourth times I thought to leap off a bridge, roof, or cliff, someone had been close by and kept me from free falling until the beast inside me could take control.

  Fucking mad. Just like Grandma.

  Problem was, I didn’t feel mad. Rational in every other way, I struggled to make sense of him, the thing inside me that loved to whisper mischievous ideas, naughty thoughts about the opposite sex that always ended up getting me into trouble.

  I punched my pillow and groaned as my cock took interest in who the fuck knew what. When my beast was in the mood, my body responded. Horny fucker didn’t care what or whose hole offered release, but neither of us had ever found real satisfaction since I’d first gotten a taste of a woman.

  Blessed with my sperm-donor’s good looks and my mother’s smile, I didn’t have any trouble getting laid—another of the reasons my parents had gotten me put away. Couldn’t keep my cock in my pants.

  At least I’d learned to keep the voice to myself. Not sharing his inner mutterings aloud had kept me pretty much on the safe side for a few years. It was the damn joint I’d shared with a couple friends three months earlier that had landed me on a ledge, high as a fucking kite and sure I could fly like one.

  At least my heart still beat.

  I clenched my eyes shut, wishing the fucker on the bed behind me would shut the fuck up already. He snored on every inhale—and exhale. Growling, I squinted at the clock. Twelve-ten in the goddamn morning. In about thirty-six hours, I wouldn’t have to put up with shitty roommates, shitty food, and shitty mattress, never mind the lumpy pillow beneath my head.

  My cock bobbed as though someone had feathered their fingertips down its length.

  “The fuck?” I grumbled quietly, grabbing myself beneath the sheet.

  The hospital preferred we sleep with clothing, but fuck that. I couldn’t stand clothing restricting me while I slept. Sleeping wouldn’t be an option until I blew the load simmering in my balls, though, so I stroked, wondering at the unusual abundance of pre-cum easing my movements.

  Blonde and caramel-colored eyes … yeah, she’s the one I’ll jerk off to tonight. Grinning at the vision I’d created in my head years earlier, I imagined my golden goddess on her knees, mouth wide open, begging for my cock in her throat.

  “Yeah…”

  My balls seized, and I shot my load down her imaginary throat—into my waiting fist—in a matter of seconds. As I breathed heavy from hardly any exertion and muttering a few curses, my cum spurted after only a dozen glides down over my dick. I’d never shot off so damn quick in my life.

  Tingles still raced over my skin, but not the creepy ant-like sensations a lot of my fellow inmates experienced. Didn’t mean the doc hadn’t tried to force meds down my throat like the rest when I’d first arrived. I’d been medicated unwillingly over the years to stop the voice in my head, and those were the times I did feel mad. Not normal.

  One arm thrown over my forehead, I rolled to my back, my softening dick and a shit ton of spunk in my other hand. I would leave a nice mess on my sheets for the janitors, but I didn’t give a fuck. It’s what they were paid for.

  Another wave of … something … licked at my skin, pulling my eyelids open, and I found myself peering through the dark at the barred window on the other side of my noisy-assed roommate. Hardly any moon hung in the sky, so pure darkness coated the inky expanse beyond.

  She’s leaving.

  I blinked and frowned. She? “Who the fuck are you talking about?” I muttered, but the voice inside remained silent. Moments later, that weird energy vibe faded, but another hour passed before I drifted off to sleep.

  ****

  I sauntered down the hallway for my last meeting with Doc in Lockwood—ever if I had any say. Doc Holliday—no fucking lie—was the old fart who had stood in my corner and helped me get my paperwork through the courts. He’d also been the one to help me find an apartment and a job starting the following week.

  Good man.

  Yeah, I agreed with my inner voice, still grinning around a yawn. Hadn’t slept worth a shit, but I had less than twenty-four hours to go until busting out of the psych ward.

  I pulled up short at the opened doorway of Doc Holliday’s office as a rush of brimstone and sex-scented air hit me in the face. My lungs filled as though on their own and my dick stiffened in a goddamn heartbeat.

  “Doc
?” My voice, ragged as hell, half-squeaked his name.

  Some guy, some hot as fuck guy, came into view from the left, a stack of files in his hands. Black slacks, white button-down shirt open at the neck, checkered vest … wide shoulders and scruff with a spattering of gray, strong nose, dark blue eyes he attempted to hide behind dark-rimmed glasses…

  Hot as fuck.

  “Who the fuck are you?” I wanted to tell him he smelled damn delicious, that he instantaneously made me aware I was bisexual rather than just a lover of females. My knees weakened as he frowned, checking me out from head to toe.

  “I’m Doctor Patrick Macaire, your new psychiatrist.” His low voice shivered over me, sending a riot of goosebumps over my skin.

  I attempted to swallow sudden dryness from my throat while tearing my gaze off him to glance around the office. “Where’s Doc?”

  “He had a heart attack yesterday morning.”

  “Shit. Is he okay?”

  The new guy shook his head, lips pursed.

  “Goddamnit.” I clenched my jaw, my emotions torn between grief for the one who hadn’t thought I was crazy and my ongoing hard-on for the man in front of me.

  “Jaxon Denham?”

  “Yeah,” I managed past the thickness in my throat.

  “Why don’t you have a seat?”

  On autopilot, I did as told, slumping down enough I could rest my head against the back of the chair. Throat aching, I tracked the new doc’s movement around the desk, my focus dropping to his tight ass.

  Cry or grab my cock? I clenched my eyes shut to keep from doing either.

  The new doc sat and cleared his throat while shuffling through the files. “I’ll be taking over for Doctor Holliday for a few months until they’re able to hire someone full-time.”