Dragon Heartstring(46)
@Juliette_Cross
juliettecrossauthor
www.juliettecross.com
Reviews
Praise for WAKING THE DRAGON, book one in the VALE OF STARS: "A sexy romp with alpha men and strong women. Fans of J.R. Ward's 'Black Dagger Brotherhood' and Sherrilyn Kenyon's 'Dark-Hunter' books will be pleased with this new series from Cross." --Library Journal
Praise for DRAGON IN THE BLOOD, book two in the VALE OF STARS: “This is such a seductive and enthralling world! Mankind and dragonkind live long side one another in a hauntingly dark and beautiful world.” --SmexyBooks
Author Note
I’d like to sincerely thank you, the reader, for spending some time in the Morgon world. And I hope that you will continue the journey. I have so many plans for the heroes and heroines of this world as war and darkness settles over the land. And while sometimes there will be loss and heartache, just as in real life, there will always be light and love at the end of the day. Thank you again for taking a chance on this new series. And stay tuned for a full glossary of the Morgon clans and their gifts, which will be posted on my website in early 2017.
Here’s a sneak peek of WAKING THE DRAGON, book one in the VALE OF STARS series, by Juliette Cross.
Prologue
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
The beautiful blonde froze.
Silence.
She peered down the darkened corridor of the cellar beneath the Vaengar stadium. No one.
The Morgon with black hair and black eyes at the bar had told her the restroom was this way. The only sound was the wafting crackle of the torches. The only sight was long shadows cast by flickering flame. An eerie tendril of fear snaked up her spine. Even half-drunk, something primitive warned her of danger, like the innate foreboding a deer senses when the tiger stalks unseen from the trees.
She shook it off, flipped her long hair over one shoulder, and walked on, knowing the restroom must be just around the bend up ahead.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
She stopped again and spun around, unable to tell from which direction the sound came.
“Bennett? Is that you?” A hollow echo of her voice reverberated down the empty corridor. “Stop it! You’re scaring me.” The last came out a faint whisper. A presence—corporeal, malevolent, and drawing closer—plunged her into icy fear. Her pulse quickened. A hiss of wind pressed the thin fabric of her mini-dress to her thighs. The flame on the wall guttered to nothing, then relit anew.
Tick.
Tick.
Directly behind her. She whirled and stared up at a massive Morgon man who stood only feet away. A behemoth silhouetted by the flambeau. His pointed wings, half-open and huge, kept the rest of him in shadow, as if the light itself repelled him. She could see nothing but his eyes—amber orbs with serpentine slits, bright as the torch-flame. Her breath hitched in her throat. She fell back against cold stone, scraping her bare shoulders against the rough cavern wall.
He passed near a sconce, the light illuminating hard, angular planes, the ancestral lines of the dragon sculpting his face in stark relief—more beast than man. Her heart thrashed against her ribcage.
“I—I lost my way, I think. I should go.” She gestured in the direction she had come, inching along the wall.
He moved with lethal grace, angling closer in slow, even steps.
Tick.
Her gaze dropped to his large hand. Claw-tipped fingers spread wide, the sharp nail of the index tapping the stone. She bolted left, only to find a wall of five Morgon men blocking her exit. They’d materialized out of the shadows in silent stealth. Unmoving, watching. Backing against the wall, she swiveled her head from those blocking her path to their master stalking closer.
“What—what do you want from me?” Her voice cracked, primal fear ripping through her gut.
By now, she’d reached the pinnacle of terror, petrified in place. Tangible evil seeped into her skin as the sinister creature loomed, enveloping her in his shadow. Something screamed for her to run, while a compelling power rolling from the beast kept her pinned in place. It was as if his very presence demanded obedience, subservience.
The beast braced one arm next to her head, her panic filling up the confines of their space. He inhaled a deep breath, drinking her fear in like the sweetest nectar.
“Will she serve, my lord?” A voice of authority from one of the Morgons in shadow—sultry but edged like a razor.
Her chest rose and fell, drawing the beast’s gaze. He leaned closer, trailing one claw lightly over her swelling breasts. Viper-swift, he clamped her mouth with his other hand, stifling her screams, and continued his exploration of her naked skin with the blade-like nail. Her rapid pulse beat frantically at the base of her neck.
“Perhaps.” One word, grating and broken. The voice of a monster.
He snaked his claw across the bottom of her throat, then down the line of her cleavage, pressing just enough to scrape the skin, a thin line of red rushing to the surface. Keeping her immobile with his crushing weight, he scraped a drop of blood from her breasts. He opened his mouth, revealing a row of sharpened teeth, the canines most prominent. Reeking of menace and power, he licked the tip of his claw.