Chapter 1
“You’re trespassing on private property.”
Chloe was already slightly breathless from her trek up the Welsh mountainside, but the sound of that deep-molasses-over-gravel voice from behind her was enough to make her even more so. It made her heart beat faster and louder too.
Besides, she already knew she was trespassing. How could she not when there were so many signs of “Private Property, Keep Out” at the bottom of the mountain? Signs she had deliberately chosen to ignore.
“Did you hear me?” the man behind her persisted when she gave no response to his comment, either verbally or physically.
Apart from losing her breath and having heart palpitations, that is.
Chloe drew several deep breaths into those starved lungs, hoping her heart would take the hint and calm down too. She was a seasoned freelance reporter, for goodness’ sake, so it was hardly the first time she had ventured somewhere she knew she wasn’t meant to be.
“You aren’t allowed up here.” This time, the growl was accompanied by a large hand—a very large and very warm hand—being placed on her arm to enable the man to spin her round to face him.
Oh my God…
If Chloe had thought she was breathless before, then looking up—and up—at the dark-haired man who had accosted her succeeded in knocking every last bit of air from her lungs. The heat of his hand on her arm sent tingles down to her hand and through the rest of her body, and it took her several seconds to recover her wits enough to take in exactly what she was looking at.
This man was an alpha alpha. His powerfully arresting face almost looked as if it were carved out of honeyed granite: high cheekbones, a sharp blade of a nose, a sculpted and unsmiling mouth, and a square and stubborn jaw. She couldn’t tell what color his eyes were because he was wearing wraparound black sunglasses.
At five feet six inches tall, Chloe had always considered herself to be above average in height, but this man towered over her by at least a foot. He wasn’t only tall but seriously muscled. He kept his dark hair short. His black T-shirt looked as if it were painted onto his wide shoulders, muscular chest, and tapered waist. Black jeans molded to his powerful thighs and long legs. To complete the seriously badass outfit, he was wearing black biker boots.
His clothing indicated he might be in the military. He was certainly a warrior of some kind.
A warrior?
What the hell…?
This was the twenty-first century. There were no such things as warriors anymore. Soldiers, some of them exceptional, but not warriors. Besides, as Chloe knew only too well from the past couple of months of dealing with her on-again-off-again boyfriend, most men were assholes.
Also, the chatter of the other guests at the inn she was staying at in the village, of the late-night comings and goings at the castle, said this man was more likely to be a crook than he was a warrior.
Chloe had to give a shake of her head to clear it of the effect of his touch and that overwhelming masculinity when his hand dropped away from her arm. She was here to sniff out a story, if there was one, not to be attracted to one of the men she was pretty sure was going to feature very prominently in that story.
She had come on holiday alone to the Welsh mountains, when her unreliable journalist boyfriend phoned her at the last minute to tell her he was too busy working on a story to go with her. Her suitcase was already packed, the car full of fuel and ready to go, so Chloe got in her car and went, vowing never to date another fellow journalist again.
Within a day of her arrival in North Wales, she had gone for a hike, and literally walked out of some trees into the side of a castle that wasn’t featured on any of the numerous maps of the area she had brought with her. Not the ruins of a castle, but a tall and imposing gray stone medieval monstrosity, with turrets and extra wings added on to it.
Her curiosity piqued, Chloe had returned to the inn and started asking questions.
The answers had been interesting.
It might not be on any of the maps, but the locals knew the castle was there. They called it Pendragon Castle. Chloe wasn’t hot on history, or fairy tales either, come to that, but she was pretty sure that in the films and television series she had seen featuring the legend of King Arthur, he was supposed to have been the son of Uther Pendragon.
The gossip surrounding the half dozen or so men who lived in the castle, and who were rumored to be the last surviving members of the original family, was even more intriguing.
The men were all of a similar age, possibly their midthirties. All of them were reputed to be tall and imposing—and Chloe now knew firsthand just how imposing.
The locals admitted none of the men worked in the area.
Nor did they socialize locally.
None of them were married either, although occasionally a local woman or two had been known to…visit for a day, possibly two. This last was confided with a knowing wink.
Some of Chloe’s fellow guests at the inn were as interested in the castle as she was.
They spoke of seeing bright lights up on the mountain a couple of nights ago. Of helicopters or some other sort of small aircraft landing. Weirdest of all, one couple said they had heard roars reverberating down the mountain, much like the sound of a wild animal—a large wild animal—in pain.
Until that last comment, Chloe had thought perhaps she’d stumbled upon a gang of drug smugglers. The remote and unlisted castle in the rugged Welsh mountains was, she thought, a perfect place to receive their drug shipments. Or possibly illegal firearms and other weapons, now she had seen this man’s appearance.
The roars of a wild animal didn’t quite fit in with that conclusion. Unless they had some seriously big guard dogs up here? If that was the case, then Chloe was more convinced than ever these men had something to hide. Something she intended knowing, and exposing, if she could.
“Are you deaf or just stupid?” the man demanded impatiently at her lengthy silence.
Chloe certainly wasn’t deaf. She could hear what he was saying well enough. But now that she thought about it, the fact she hadn’t told anyone where she was going today, and she had now been caught intruding on this man’s property—this angry man’s property—told her she might be guilty of a little of the latter.
Maybe more than a little, she acknowledged with an inner wince. If the men living in the castle were drug or arms dealers, then by coming up here alone, she could have placed herself in danger.
“I’m neither of those things.” She finally answered his accusation lightly, although she couldn’t quite manage a smile to go with that lightness. She didn’t enjoy being called stupid. Or knowing, on this occasion, the accusation had merit. “I’m merely a lost tourist who was going to knock on the door of your castle to see if you could point me back in the direction of the village.”
Mine.
The word roared into Nathaniel’s skull with the force of a sledgehammer the moment the woman spoke. So loud and so powerfully, he almost staggered under the force of it.
What the hell—?
“Are you okay?” The redhead looked concerned, telling Nathaniel he must have gone a little pale. Certainly something had alerted her to the fact he was far from happy.
Nathaniel wasn’t sure what he was at the moment. Unhappy didn’t begin to cover it. He was slightly dazed, a little confused at the instant effect this woman had on him, and pissed because he felt either of those things.
Nor did he believe her story about being lost.
Mainly because he had seen this same red-haired woman wandering about on their mountain two days ago. He had stood and observed her from the top of one of the turrets of the castle.
He had given her the benefit of the doubt that last time and chosen not to bring her to the attention of his brother. Deryk’s temper was…volcanic at the moment. He was more likely to act first and ask questions later.
Having this woman come here for a second time, quite deliberately, meant Nathaniel wouldn’t be able to keep this from Deryk a second time.
Nathaniel’s heightened senses had warned him of her presence the moment she stepped foot on their mountain today. He had also tracked her every purposeful step as she made her way stealthily toward the castle using the cover of the trees to hide her approach. That stealth and purpose as she skulked about the perimeter of the castle walls, obviously looking for a way in, meant Nathaniel had no choice this time but to confront her. Before Deryk did.
Mine, that voice roared again inside his head.
No, she’s fucking not, Nathaniel mentally roared right back.
There was no doubting this woman was absolutely beautiful. Probably aged in her mid-twenties, she had long, straight hair that gleamed with a spectrum of colors from russet to gold. Her eyes were the clear blue of a mountain lake on a summer day, and her complexion creamy smooth. She also had full breasts—which Nathaniel certainly approved of—a slender waist and curvy hips. All shown to advantage in a red T-shirt and fitted jeans.
Yes, she was stunningly beautiful, and the way she faced him so unflinchingly told him she also had balls. Nathaniel was well aware of how intimidating his height and size could be. But neither her beauty nor her courage changed the fact she had to leave, and sooner rather than later. He also needed to make it clear she should never return.
There was only him and Deryk in residence right now. Deryk being Deryk, suspicious bastard that he was, would have dragged her inside the castle by now, so fast that her feet wouldn’t have touched the ground, until she was seated in front of him and he demanded she answer his questions.
Deryk’s mood had become unstable of late, and their brother Dylan had been staying here, keeping an eye on him originally. But Dylan had been needed elsewhere, and Nathaniel had come back to take his place. If Deryk had been the one to find this woman on their property, it was anyone’s guess what her fate would have been. Deryk would have either fucked or killed her by now. Or both.
“This is private property,” Nathaniel bit out.
“I think I got that.” Her straight white teeth showed in a friendly smile. “Could I possibly have a glass of water? It’s really hot today, and I forgot to bring a drink with me.”
A liar as well as beautiful, Nathaniel acknowledged with a scowl, knowing the water was merely a ruse to get inside the castle. He despised liars.
Mine.
Fuck off, Nathaniel instructed firmly.
Maybe he needed to get laid? It had been a few months since he and Deryk had shared the pretty blonde. All of them tended to get a little tense without a good fuck to relieve the tension every couple of weeks.
Mine.
“No,” he answered that inner voice as well as the woman in front of him.
She blinked at his abruptness. “No?”
“Yes.”
“Make your mind up, is it yes or no?” she teased.
Nathaniel frowned. This woman wouldn’t be poking him with a verbal stick if she knew what he was. “It’s get the hell off my property—now—and don’t ever come back!”
Her eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?”
“Did it sound like a threat?”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess that’s what it is.” He nodded abruptly before turning on his heel and striding away, the wild clamoring inside him urging him to return. It became more and more frantic the farther he got from the redhead.
Definitely time—past time—he got laid.
Chloe watched as the behemoth stomped away after delivering his rude dismissal.
Not that she was in the least deterred by that rudeness. Journalism, she had quickly learned, wasn’t for the fainthearted. It was either grow a skin of leather to protect yourself from the abuse that often came your way, or sink without a trace.
And if Mr. Muscle thought he had frightened her off with his growly behavior, then he was mistaken. After their conversation, Chloe was more convinced than ever there was a secret inside these austere castle walls.
“What did you say?”
Nathaniel scowled across the kitchen table at his brother as the two men sat drinking coffee together after their evening meal. “A woman came up to the castle today.”
“What woman?” Deryk demanded.
“Well, I didn’t talk to her long enough for us to exchange names.” Nathaniel barely held his sarcasm in check.
His brother tensed. “You spoke to her?”
“It’s called conversation,” he drawled. “You should try it sometime. I believe it’s something people do on a regular basis. Polite people.”
Deryk scowled his lack of appreciation for the unmistakable sarcasm. “I’m neither polite nor people,” he snapped. “So where have you put her? In your bedroom or the dungeon?”
Nathaniel grimaced. “Neither.”
His brother looked a mess, his blond hair overlong and untidy, stubble on his jaw. “What do you mean, neither?”
Nathaniel sighed heavily at the other man’s aggression. “I’m sure that most people are intimidated by your scowling countenance, brother, but need I remind you I am not only older but also bigger than you are?”
Deryk gave a snort as he stood up with a noisy scrape of the kitchen chair. “A minute in age and an inch in height.”
Most would assume, given that information, that Nathaniel and Deryk were twins. Not so. Not only did they look completely unalike—Deryk fair where Nathaniel was dark—but they had been born to different mothers.
“And don’t think that by changing the subject, I’ve forgotten the woman,” Deryk warned harshly.
“Goddess forbid,” he drawled.
“Where is she?” his brother snapped.
“As she isn’t a local, I suspect she’s back at the inn if she’s staying in the village. Or on her way back to wherever it is she came from.”
Deryk’s eyes gleamed a dark and molten gold. “You let her leave?”
“Yes, I let her leave.” Nathaniel remained outwardly calm, but inwardly, he could feel his anger rising in defense of his actions.
“The fuck…!” His brother bent down until his face was an equal height with Nathaniel’s. Lighter gold flecks had appeared in his dark gold orbs as a warning his volatile temper was very near the surface. “Why?” he growled.
“Maybe because, unlike you, I don’t have a wish to kill all the humans that wander into our territory.” Nathaniel also stood, using that inch in superior height to look down at Deryk. “We’re here to protect the humans, not kill them.”
“We were sent here to protect one human,” his brother corrected harshly. “That human has been dead for a long time.”
“Then we didn’t do such a good job of protecting him.”
“Unlike us, our brother was completely human, and so always fated to die.”
Unlike them, who had been born to protect their brother for the short span of human years he’d lived. Yet they were still here, had been so for over fifteen hundred years, the gates of Annwn, the Welsh Otherworld, firmly closed against them.
Because they weren’t human. Not anywhere close.
Nathaniel could barely contain his impatience with this conversation. “So now we kill humans?”
Deryk’s stance was one of aggression. “To protect ourselves? Our family?” he rasped. “If they get too close, then yes, we fucking kill them!”
Green eyes battled with gold. In the same way their beasts would battle if either of them allowed those beasts to break free.
Brother against brother.
Dragon against dragon.
The tension snapped in the air between the two of them for several long minutes before some of the aggression finally left Deryk’s shoulders and he took a step back, his expression becoming rueful. “Was she beautiful?”
Nathaniel’s own tension eased slightly. “Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you bring her here for us to share?”
Mine.
He and Deryk had shared women on and off for years, dozens, hundreds of them, but the possessive reaction of Nathaniel’s beast told him not to attempt it this time, not with this particular woman.
His smile lacked humor. “Possibly because my dragon wants to throw her on the ground and fuck her.”
Deryk eyed him curiously. “He doesn’t want to share?”
“Not this time, no.”
“Could she be your fated mate?”
Nathaniel scowled. “I thought we had all agreed there’s no such fucking thing as our fated mate.”
“But—”
“It’s at times like this I wish our bodies didn’t have a total lack of reaction to the effects of alcohol.” They had learned years ago that their immunity to alcohol made it a complete waste of their time and money.
Deryk still eyed him curiously. “How can you be sure she isn’t your fated mate?”
“She’s human.”
And they were dragons.
Mystical creatures of myth and legend.
They were also men.
Men and dragon combined, and they had been alive for over fifteen centuries.
Ten male children. Sons of a human king and the ten sorceresses sent from Annwn to bear his dragon children. Once pregnant, those sorceresses had returned to Otherworld to give birth to their sons. When those children reached the age of the equivalent of thirty-five human years, they had ceased to age and their dragons had awoken, indicating it was time for them to return to the human realm to protect their human brother.
But not before their mothers had told them of another prophecy. A promise that, for their unselfish service to the earth realm, they would one day meet their fated mate. The one woman who had been born just for them, and who would bear their offspring.
All these centuries later, none of the dragons had yet found their fated mate. Some, like Deryk, were starting to turn feral without the mating to a female to soothe their warrior spirit. Their dragon natures were starting to take precedence over their human side, until one day there would be only dragon left. When that happened, the other brothers would have no choice but to destroy the feral dragon he had become.
After the death of their human brother, they had spent the first two centuries searching the far reaches of the world for the female dragons who would become their mates. They had discovered many Other, also hiding in full view of the human world, but no female dragons existed.
They still searched, every fifty years or so, in case that had changed. But so far, there were still no female dragons for them to mate with.
In the meantime, all their hearts were becoming as hard as the jewels they coveted and hoarded beneath the castle that had been home to them all for so long.
They were powerful, as only their beasts could make them. Wealthy in the jewels and money the human world had given them. Yet none of the eight dragons that remained had ever found the fated mate promised to them.
Until now?
A part of Nathaniel wished it was so, because then there might be hope they could save Deryk.
But Nathaniel’s senses told him the woman he had met today was completely human. And no human female could ever be the mate of the dragon as well as the man.
To attempt to do so might kill her.