A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)

“I know so much about you,” I said helpfully.

You: Older? Maybe. Assertive attitude. Real go-getter. Takes what you want. Commanding, even. Must have eyebrows. Double jointed is a plus. No Darks or fairies named Dimitri.

Justin looked up at me slowly.

I smiled at him. “You’re welcome. Some of them got really porny, but I took the high road. One talked about splitting you like a—”

“And someone responded to this,” he said, voice strangely even.

“Yes! Well, actually, like a hundred people did, but I narrowed it down to the best one. And I’ve been sending notes back and forth posing as you so I could get a real sense of him. He seems like a nice guy. Maybe a little bossy, but I figured that’s something you can work on when you marry him. Also, for some reason, he likes to call you boy and expects to be obeyed at all times, but hey, just roll with it. Could be fun.”

“What part of you thought that this would be a good idea?”

“Most parts,” I said. “But that’s why I’m here. In case he turns out to be a raging psychopath—which I highly doubt because it seems like that’s something you’d have to put down in the ad—I’ll be there right by your side.”

He said nothing for a long time. My jaw hurt from smiling so much.

Finally, “So let me get this straight. You impersonated the Prince of Verania to set up a date for me by using a personal ad in the back of a magazine that I usually see lying in the gutters and covered with bird feces. And not only that, but someone responded to said ad and now I’m on my way to meet him. Where you will also be in attendance.”

“All the highlights,” I said, suitably impressed.

Lots of twitching going on.

“Also,” I said. “One more thing.” I reached into my robe in the inner pocket and pulled out two matching beards from my old Mervin days. “Disguises. So we won’t be recognized. If all goes well, then William will understand why you had to lie. Especially if it’s for love. Do you want to put this on or should—you know what. I’ll just do it. Just… hold still. You’re kind of tense. Like really, really tense. It’s not good for your back. And your hands are fists right now. So much tension. Sorry the beard is a little wet. And sticky. Tiggy spilled juice on it right before we left and I didn’t have time to clean it. Just gonna hold it on your face for a moment to make sure it sticks… annnnd done.”

He looked ridiculous.

“You look amazing,” I said. “William won’t know what hit him.”

I had the best ideas.




I HAD the worst ideas.

Not that they started out that way, mind you, but for some reason, they tended to devolve quickly and out of my control. Dragons, truth corn, getting gay fairy married, turning boys to stone, and asking an important wizard to not explode my nipples. I’d like to think I have the best intentions in mind, but I lose the thread partway through.

Like today, for example.

I wanted Justin to find love.

And thought what if I brought love to him?

Ergo, I put out a search for love.

And then bring him to love.

Foolproof, right?

Almost. Except for the fact that William seemed to be almost as big as Tiggy, wore an entire herd’s worth of leather, and made us call him Sir.

Justin and I sat side by side in the open-air café that William had suggested we meet at. (Though, if I was remembering correctly, he’d said negotiate rather than meet, but I had a lot going on at the time, so I couldn’t be faulted for not remembering every little detail.) I wore a beard similar to Justin’s, something that Sir hadn’t missed, given that he’d raised an eyebrow as we approached and said, “I’m down for twins.”

I should have known it was going to go downhill from there.

“Now, I understand you’re looking to be dominated,” Sir said.

Justin squeaked.

“Uhh,” I said. “I don’t think that’s quite what I—”

“Did I say you could speak, boy?” Sir asked sharply.

“No, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”

He waited a beat, as if making sure I wouldn’t step out of line again. I didn’t, because I didn’t want to get fisted or have something shoved up my pee hole.

“Now. We should probably discuss hard limits,” Sir said. “I’m okay with most things, even the… fluids… some others might have problems with. Even the more solid ones.”

“So unbelievably gross,” I breathed in awe.

“Also, after you sign the contract, you will become my personal property, and I like to share. I have a lot of friends who will want to tear off a piece for themselves while I watch. You will treat them with respect while they treat you like a piece of meat. It’s how these things go. Also, I have this kink where I treat my subs like footstools.”

“I will see you castrated for this,” Justin whispered furiously at me.

“Stop saying things he might like!” I whispered back.

Sir coughed in warning.

We stared at him with wide eyes.

“Are you two quite finished?”

“You have no idea,” Justin said.

“Absolutely none,” I agreed.

“Good. Tell me. How do you feel about puppy play?”

Before I could answer that (Ooh, I like puppies!), we were interrupted by a shrill, grating, and dare I say shriekish voice. “Well eat me up and shit me out. Just what do we have here?”

I sighed. “Crap. I am never going to hear the end of this.”

I turned slowly, already knowing what I would find.

Sure enough, there on the street only a few feet away (how had I not heard them approach!) stood a hornless unicorn, a half-giant, a dragon, and a knight with a resigned look on his face, something that I was extraordinarily used to being directed at my person, even after all this time.

“Heyyy,” I said with a wave. “What. Is. Up.”

“Hey, he says,” Gary snapped, flipping his mane prettily. “Can you believe this? You raise a child most of his life, watch him go through painful years of puberty to become a reasonably attractive man, only to find him negotiating kink contracts with a leather Dom and saying hey.” He sniffled. “I’ve never been more proud of anything in my life.”

Tiggy frowned. “Sam a pain slut?”

“I highly doubt that, kitten. You know how he gets when he stubs a toe. He doesn’t pop a boner, that’s for sure.”

“He’s growing up so fast,” the dragon named Kevin rumbled. “I remember when he was just a wee slip of a lad. Now he’s this young man finding his way in the world. A sexy way that I will probably actively participate in because that’s just who I am. No judgments. We’re all gods’ creatures, right? Just writhing on top of each—”

“Do I even want to know what you’re doing?” the knight asked, cocking a devastatingly unfair eyebrow.

Knight Commander Ryan Foxheart, the dreamiest dream to have ever been dreamed.

And probably currently not very happy with me.

“It’s not what it looks like?” I tried.