The Witch’s Royal Dragon Mate: Cress Dragon Shifters, page 1
The Witch’s Royal Dragon Mate
Haley Weir
Copyright © 2021 by Haley Weir
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Contents
1. Bridgette
2. Edric
3. Bridgette
4. Edric
5. Bridgette
6. Edric
7. Bridgette
8. Edric
9. Bridgette
10. Edric
11. Bridgette
12. Edric
13. Bridgette
14. Edric
15. Bridgette
16. Edric
17. Bridgette
18. Edric
19. Bridgette
20. Edric
Epilogue
About the Author
Complete Series by Haley Weir
1
Bridgette
There is a certain smell to a city, one that I had almost forgotten since I’ve been away from home so long. It smells full—of things, and people, and experiences to be had. It smells full and also very damp.
I’ve just arrived back in the city that I used to call home, and I expected it to be much more familiar and heartwarming for some reason. Not that I held onto any particular fondness about my barista job or my crappy third floor apartment, which was the size of a walk-in closet. But I just thought I would feel more “at ease” here than I had in the small town I’ve been staying in ever since my transformation into a dragon shifter was complete.
Instead of feeling comfortable back in the city, I feel a sense of urgency. I chalk that feeling up to the mission that I’m on. I need to find the hidden dragon.
I walk past my old apartment building and it suddenly dawns on me that I don’t have a place to stay here anymore. I’ve been gone for too long and rent has gone unpaid for too many months. I no longer have a place to call home, or any possessions to my name aside from the clothes I’m wearing, the artifact from an ancient dragon cave in my hand, and a small wad of cash in my pocket. I suppose at the age of thirty-seven, that’s not really something to be proud of. At least I’m alive. For a hot minute there, I almost wasn’t.
I’m a dragon shifter—the first of my kind, since I was made instead of born this way. Granted, I was made by a narcissistic madman, but my mother always used to tell me to find a “small win” in everything and I guess my new ability to transform into a powerful dragon is that win.
I’ve always known about the things that lurk in the shadows. I was born different—a witch, or alchemist. I lived as a normal person, with normal friends—including my best friend, Ariah. The furthest I’d ever gotten into tapping into my “abilities” was when it came time to make a pumpkin spice latte at the coffee shop I’d worked at.
Unfortunately, my abilities made me a target for nefarious people. Specifically, Ariah’s controlling ex-husband. He kidnapped me, experimented on me, and turned me into what I am today: half-witch, half-dragon, full-confusion.
I still haven’t devoted much time to figuring out my own abilities or how they react with my natural tendency toward alchemy. But in my defense, I’ve been much too obsessed with the legend that I found scribed across the ancient dragon cavern wall in Cress. I don’t know why the lore of the hidden dragon calls to me so much, or why it prompted me to leave my friends behind without even so much as a goodbye. But I felt drawn back to the city and to this search for this elusive, mythical dragon that the legends spoke of. Maybe it’s because he is the last of his kind, and I am the first of mine. Or maybe I’m just trying not to deal with my own life again just yet. Regardless, here I am back in the city.
The legend of the hidden dragon tells of a shifter that is supposed to be extremely powerful and very elusive. It hints at the fact that he is the last of his bloodline, and at the notion that there is something very special about that bloodline. But it doesn’t say what the specialness is or what happened to the rest of his lineage. I’ve heard stories of shifters being hunted for reasons ranging from fear to cash prizes, and I can only imagine that the rest of his ancient shifter family probably met with a grim fate. Somehow though, this hidden dragon survived. At least, it’s speculated that he survived. I suppose some people might just consider this legend as having the same level of merit as a fairytale. But I’m one of those strange girls that has always believed in fairytales. I guess that’s why I’m chasing down this myth before giving thought to how I’m going to eat and where I’m going to lay my head for the night.
At least I have control over my shifting now, and I don’t need to worry about my pupils jumping back and forth between orbs and slits, or my skin changing from milky white flesh to shining scales without my control. When you don’t have control over much, it feels good to have control over something.
I walk deeper into the city, not sure what I’m expecting to find, as I’m lost in my own thoughts. The mere notion that there is another shifter out there who is different than the rest—a loner like me—sends me down a rabbit hole of curiosity that drives me to search out this mysterious hidden dragon. Rumor around Cress had it that the hidden dragon lived in the bowels of the city, so that’s where I am headed. Smack dab in the center of the city, in the grittiest and most crowded spots—which seems like an odd place to go if you want to be unnoticed, although I guess there’s something to be said for getting “lost in the crowd.” Rumor also had it that he was nothing short of impossible to be found unless he wanted to be found, which actually gives me an idea.
If I can’t find him, then I’ll make him find me.
I walk into the old, crumbling part of the city, the part that has a hidden underground culture that could rival Dante’s layers of hell.
I have no idea where to begin. But since I no longer have an apartment here (or a job), the first thing I do is look for a place to stay while I figure out what to do next. As luck would have it, I just so happen to find an apartment listed for rent on a sign hanging right outside the subway station. I pull the piece of paper off its spot tacked up onto the wall and head toward the address listed on the sign. Just outside the apartment building I run into an odd and quirky looking girl who seems to recognize the piece of paper dangling from my hand.
“Hey! Are you coming to ask about the room for rent?” she asks in a voice that is almost too perky to stomach.
“Yeah, is it yours?”
“Yep. I’m Bexley and it’s my spare room that I’m renting out. Do you want to see it?”
“Sure.”
I don’t attempt to match her level of enthusiasm, partly because I don’t think I can but mostly because I don’t want to even try. I follow Bexley up to her apartment, trying to think of ways to sweet talk her into letting me rent a room with no job and no references. Fortunately for me, she looks much younger and more naïve than I am, which probably means that I can convince her to rent a room to me. Unfortunately for me, she also looks young and naïve enough to wear out my patience quickly. I’m guessing she’s probably in her mid-twenties and still hasn't put in any real effort into figuring her life out. Although, who am I to speak on such matters. I’m a thirty-something dragon shifter looking for a mystical man. That doesn’t exactly say much for my own credibility, to be honest.
Bexley’s apartment is cute and odd, just like her. It looks like a bohemian gypsy caravan exploded inside a disco night club. It also looks clean and seems fairly quiet, which will do just fine.
“This would be your room,” she says as she points to one of the two bedrooms in the small space. “Mine is the other one. We share the kitchen and bath but don’t worry, I’m out a lot.”
I’m going to be out a lot too, searching for the hidden dragon.
“So what do you think?” she asks eagerly. “Do you want it?”
“Yeah, it’s nice. But listen, I can pay the first month’s rent right now. And then I promise I’ll figure out making rent on time every month. But I don’t currently have a job, or references, or credit.”
I sigh, knowing that I’ll probably wind up sleeping in the subway station tonight because there’s no way she’d accept my proposal.
“Okay,” she smiles. “That works for me.”
“Really?” I say, shocked.
“Sure. Just as long as you pay it, I don’t care.”
“Thanks,” I say as I manage the first small smile that has graced my face since I was made into a shifter. I reach into my jacket pocket to pull out enough cash for the rest of the month’s rent and hand it over to her.
“No problem. I’ll let you get settled in. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge. No offense, but you look like you could use a decent meal.”
For such a strange girl, Bexley does seem to have a stroke of compassion and it’s greatly appreciated. She leaves the apartment, making sure to leave a second key on the counter for me, and gives me time to get acclimated. Honestly, the situation
I don’t really have any ‘things’ to get settled in with, so I just sit down on the side of the bed after making myself a sandwich from remnants of stuff in the fridge. I shove the food into my mouth, realizing all at once how hungry I am, and think about recent events. I feel badly for leaving my friends behind in Cress without even telling them where I was going. But they wouldn’t understand, I don’t think.
Cress is a small town right outside of the city limits. It’s also a place stuck in time. It’s the only place in the world (as far as I know, anyway) where dragon shifters and humans not only know about each other, but coexist peacefully.
My friends—Ariah and her mate, Zachary, and Cornelis—are all dragon shifters who live in Cress. They took care of me and protected me. At Cress, I had companions and I had a place to stay.
But I’ve never been the type of person who could stay still for too long. Especially not with this mysterious legend scratching at my sanity like a scab.
The peace and quiet doesn’t last too long, because after an hour or so Bexley returns with some friends. I’m distracted from my thoughts as I listen to them talking just outside my bedroom door. They’re talking about one of the local nightclubs, a place called Prismark. And from the sound of it, the club seems exactly like the kind of place that someone might find themselves in when they want to get lost.
Bexley’s description of the club makes it sound dark and elusive. The place sounds like a wonderland of underground culture that gets packed every night with club crawlers. Just the kind of crowd that someone could hide in plain sight.
“Hey, where is this place?” I ask as I walk out into the kitchen and interrupt their conversation. Subtlety has never been a strong suit of mine. “Sorry, I just thought it sounded cool and I was wondering where to find it.”
“No worries,” Bexley smiles. She looks a bit like one of those cute, wide-eyed owls when she smiles. There is another girl sitting at the table with her, and a young guy standing over her shoulder. They both look up at me as if I’m a stain on the wall. I’m guessing that Bexley’s past roommates have been younger and more “hip” than I am.
“We’re actually going there tonight if you want to come along?”
I can hear the other girl audibly sigh at Bexley’s remark, just before she rolls her eyes and tosses her head back.
“Yeah, that would be great, thanks,” I say. It brings me pleasure to annoy the very visibly entitled girl whose eyes are still stuck in the back of her head, mid-eyeroll.
“Cool,” the guy at the door says with a grin. He’s eyeing me up and down, slow enough to make me guess he’s trying to imagine what I look like beneath my clothes.
Interesting friends.
“You’re going to love it there,” Bexley says. “It’s by far the coolest club in town. Hard to get into on most nights, but I know the owner so it’s all good.”
“What kind of people normally go there?” I ask.
All three sets of eyes land on me as if I’ve said something offensive. Then I realize how I must have sounded.
“I wasn’t being discriminatory,” I say, trying to backpedal and figure out how now to reveal the fact that I was asking if shifters frequented the club. I doubt that Bexley even knows that shifters exist, and I’m not about to blow that secret wide open. “I was just wondering if there was a good mix for people watching. Is that weird of me to ask?”
Bexley laughs and the other two seem to relax a bit now and jump down from their defensive posture.
“See?” she says as she nods to her friends. “I told you this chick was cool.”
I turn to go back into my room until it’s time to go to the club, hearing Bexley’s friends make a comment about her “revolving door of roommates.” Then I tune them out so that I can concentrate.
The only thing that I care about is finding the hidden dragon. If he happens to frequent a place like this club, then maybe I’ll be able to spot him. If not, then maybe one of the people there tonight will have some clues that might help me find him. Once I figure out who he is, then I can put into play a plan to draw him out. I just wish that I knew more about what enticed an ancient dragon shifter. I wish that the legend in the old cave provided more information.
I sit on the side of the bed again and hold onto the one piece of a clue that I brought with me from Cress. It’s a goblet, inscribed with a symbol on the side of it. The symbol is the crest of the ancient dragon family—the same crest that belongs to the hidden dragon. I’m betting that if he sees me holding this goblet that he’ll have some sort of reaction to it. Maybe that will be enough for me to pick up on.
There’s a knock at my door before Bexley throws it open and walks straight in.
“So, I’m guessing that you don’t have clubbing clothes,” she says. “Do you want to borrow something of mine?”
“No,” I say, feeling slightly embarrassed at my ragged appearance in jeans and a T-shirt with a noticeably dirty jacket over top. “I’m fine as I am, thank you.”
“Suit yourself,” she shrugs. Then her eyes land on the goblet in my hand. “Cool wine glass.”
“Thanks. I was thinking about bringing it with me tonight.”
“To the nightclub? What for?”
I make up an excuse.
“To drink out of,” I answer. “You know…recycling? Save the environment?”
“True,” Bexley nods. “But this nightclub is different. The owner is quite precise and protective of his club. I don’t think he’ll let you bring that thing in. Best just to leave it here.”
Before I can protest, Bexley reaches forward and takes the goblet from my hand to set it up on top of the dresser.
As we walk toward the club together, one thing that she said about the nightclub owner leaves a residual echo in my mind—he’s protective.
What in the world would a club owner need to protect?
2
Edric
Tonight starts out the same as any other night at Prismark. The club is dimly lit with a smattering of wildly colored strobe lights punctuating the darkness just enough to make it pleasantly disorienting. The drinks are flowing, and the music is set to exactly the right resonating pound so you can feel it shaking the inside of your ribcage.
There is nothing unusual about tonight, and that is how I like it—managed chaos.
But then something unusual happens. Bexley walks in with a woman at her side that I’ve never seen before.
Bexley walking in with a new friend is nothing new. That girl has enough acquaintances to fill her own city with, and she’s at the nightclub more nights than not. But I’ve never seen her bring along someone like this. I can instantly notice something different about the woman standing next to her as she walks into the club, but I can’t quite put my finger on what it is.
It’s odd and out of place to see such a beautiful, mature woman alongside such a clumsy and odd younger girl. But then again, I know that Bexley has a tendency to pick up “strays” when she needs to earn some cash by renting out her spare room.
Bexley is no stranger to the nightclub scene, but the woman with her is.
And it hits me. A change in the air, a crackle of energy. Something familiar whispering like smoke around me.
She’s a shifter. Same as I am.
I watch them walk inside and order drinks at the bar from my comfortable seated spot in the back corner of the room. I like to sit in this corner. It’s the least visible spot in the room, but also the best place to see everything if you know where to look . I enjoy the subtle art of watching without being seen in return.
