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  Secret Baby for the Dragon

  Dragon Curse of Lunca

  Alexis Davie

  Secret Baby for the Dragon

  Text Copyright © 2019 by Alexis Davie

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictionally. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  First printing, 2019

  Publisher

  Secret Woods Books

  [email protected]

  www.SecretWoodsBooks.com

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Epilogue

  Other Books You Will Love

  Thank You!

  About the Author

  Prologue

  2981 BC

  Lunca

  Romania

  Smoke rose up against the spiraled stone ceilings of the Lunca Palace and the smell of sulphur was putrid enough to suffocate even the strongest of men. Frantic orders were screamed over the sounds of explosions, shaking the grounds of the palace, but it did not deter the agile female figure from dashing through the hallways. Draped in a luxurious silver velvet hooded cape, her identity remained concealed only to those whom did not know her.

  To those who did, she was Liris Veskovic, the Queen of Lunca.

  Her heart pounded in her chest as she leapt over a large crevice in the floor, and as the floor crumbled behind her at a rapid pace, she knew what she had to do. There was no other way.

  Out of the corner of her teal eyes, an unnatural movement caused her to turn around and her heart sank. Rhaena the Wicked, was closing in on the royal hatchery, and the Queen knew she had to stop her. There was only one reason – or four – why the witch had caused this much destruction to the palace, but the Queen would rather perish herself, than allow that fate.

  The Queen leapt onto the stone ledge and threw herself into the air, her silver cloak glimmering behind her. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she raced after Rhaena.

  The stone wall of the hatchery exploded into fragments of different sizes, flying by the Queen’s face, but she managed to dodge them every time. The determination and resilience coursed through her veins, and gained on Rhaena.

  The Queen stepped into the hatchery, which was eerily quiet and scanned the cave-like room. Flames erupted from a corner and Rhaena appeared, her staff violently flashing bolts of lightning.

  “You will not take them,” the Queen bellowed, her sharp voice edging through the room, through the echoes of chaos and turmoil which besieged the palace.

  “There is nothing you can do to stop me, Liris,” Rhaena shrieked, as she raised her staff, aiming it at the crystal nest in the center of the room.

  The Queen’s eyes flashed viciously as she leapt towards Rhaena, only to be deflected by the witch’s staff. She fell onto the marble floor but immediately rose to her feet.

  “You cannot do this, Rhaena,” the Queen called out to her, but the witch did not acknowledge her.

  A piercing yellow light spewed from the staff, directly at the nest. The Queen ran towards the nest with complete and utter abandonment, ignoring her sensible thoughts. Her instincts had overpowered her rational thinking, and now she would fight to the death if needed.

  The Queen’s eyes flashed once more, and the stone wall behind Rhaena instantly crumbled. Stones fell onto the old witch and the staff broke in half, vanquishing the yellow ray of evil which descended onto the nest.

  It was quiet for a moment as the Queen carefully and slowly approached Rhaena, cowering under a large rock which pinned her to the ground.

  “I tried to warn you, Rhaena,” the Queen uttered, no emotions on her beautiful face, her golden hair whipping in the wind.

  As she stepped closer, she heard Rhaena muttering words she knew too well, having heard them before many times. “Rhaena, no!”

  Red smoke flowed from Rhaena’s fingertip and whirled towards the nest.

  “Stop!” the Queen ordered.

  With her final seconds of life, Rhaena flicked her wrist, and the red smoke suddenly vanished. Her hand went limp, followed by a low rumble under the Queen’s feet.

  Then silence.

  Deafening silence which shook the Queen to the core. She rushed over to the nest, glanced down at the four dragon eggs before her. Blue, red, purple and silver, they were all there, and unharmed.

  Physically at least.

  Footsteps, which were the same pace as her heartbeats, grew louder in the hallway, and Arlo Veskovic, the King of Lunca, and her beloved husband rushed into the hatchery.

  “Are you all right, my dearest?” he asked as he touched her shoulders and his eyes trailed over her body.

  “I am fine, Arlo,” the Queen insisted. “Rhaena on the other hand...”

  The King looked to where the body of the witch lay on the floor, still pinned to the ground by a large boulder. “You killed her.”

  “She was going to harm them,” the Queen said and motioned to the eggs.

  “But they are unharmed,” the King stated.

  The Queen bit her lip and shook her head. “I had to stop her, but I was too late. She…”

  “She what?” the King asked. “What did she do?”

  “She cursed them.”

  The King glanced at the eggs and his lips snarled in anger, his brow furrowing heavily as he glanced back at the Queen. “There is no need to worry, my love. They will be strong and fierce. No curse can compete with that.”

  The King gently wiped a tear from under the Queen’s eye, but a soft crackling sound made both the King and Queen turn to the nest.

  “It has begun,” the Queen gasped and a tender smile formed on her lips. “Our children are ready.”

  1

  Present Day

  Vancouver, Canada

  The city of Vancouver was still in a dreamy slumber in the veil of darkness. Dax Veskovic stood tall on the balcony, glancing out at the skyline, his dark brown hair softly ruffled by the cold breeze, but it did not seem to bother him much. His thoughts ran awry with what-ifs and should-haves which he knew would not do any good. Dwelling on the past would not do anyone, least of all him, any favors, but Dax seemed intent, his eyes fixed on the horizon.

  As the dawn closed in on the city, casting an orange light upon the buildings, Dax was reminded of his childhood in Romania. Before the war, when life was simple and ordinary.

  A shudder ran through him as he turned on his heel, relishing in the glory and luxury of his penthouse suite with a panoramic view of the West End of Vancouver. Dax could not imagine living in those simple and ordinary times; too much time, too many centuries had passed since he had received his inheritance from his father.

  The Dragon Prince, who was the youngest of his brothers, had no trouble adjusting to the lifestyle which was set out for him by his blood, and he had become rather vicarious and reckless as a result. Especially with his heart.

  His absentminded gaze rested upon the silhouette of the woman in his bed, curvy, vivacious, and insatiable, which was precisely what he desired most.

  Dax was no stranger to the old tales his mother and father told him of the day he and his brothers
were born from their fiery nest inside the royal palace. Thousands of people had lost their lives that day, and most of the palace had been destroyed—a day which would go down in history as the most gruesome and tragic day in the history of Lunca, but also a day of great celebration for the Veskovic family. Rather dramatically and theatrically told by their mother, perhaps, but the Dragon Queen had always been on the dramatic side of the spectrum.

  A hint of a smile formed in the corner of Dax’s lips as he practically heard his mother’s voice in his mind, though this smile soon faded. His intense blue gaze still frozen upon the sleeping woman in his bed. This was not the first time she had graced his bed with her naked presence. In fact, it had become a regular occurrence, an arrangement, if you would, but nothing beyond that. Despite knowing nearly everything about her, the form of her body drenched in the impending dawn light, he felt nothing for her.

  To his brothers, this was their curse. To Dax, a blessing.

  Even though he was the youngest, he never quite felt the need to follow in his big brothers’ footsteps. They were all successful in their professions, working hard to earn their millions, but Dax had figured, Why the fuck would I work myself to death if I can party myself to death?

  That was probably his curse, and he didn’t even know it.

  Dax reluctantly stepped back inside and sat on the edge of his bed. He didn’t want to wake her, but she was laying on his favorite t-shirt—heaven knew how it had gotten there—and he wanted it. He reached his hand over at the sleeping black-haired beauty, but her arms instantly flailed around his waist, pulling him towards her.

  Her sensual, dark brown eyes opened, and Dax stared at her blankly.

  “Come back to bed,” her velvety voice murmured, but he was steadfast and unmovable.

  “You have to go,” Dax said curtly and freed himself from her arms, standing from the bed. “There are a few things I need to do today.”

  “Like what? I could always join you, or,” she murmured seductively, running her fingers down his torso, “we can spend the whole day in bed. You can do that thing you like as many times as you want.”

  “Tempting, but no.”

  “Dax…” The dark-haired woman sat up, allowing the silk sheet to cascade down the smooth skin of her breasts. She looked at him and pouted.

  Dax glanced at her breasts for only a moment before he turned away and grabbed his creased t-shirt from the bed. “Mira, don’t do this again. By now, you should know how this goes.”

  Mira’s eyes flashed for a moment, and her smile faded. “Do I?”

  Dax ran his fingers through his dark brown hair and wordlessly left the bedroom.

  “Dax!” Mira exclaimed, and he heard her follow him. “Seriously?”

  “Your clothes are in the lounge,” he called out as he made his way down the stairs of his penthouse loft apartment.

  “I know. I left them there,” Mira snipped behind him. “Can you just stop for a second?”

  Dax reached the bottom of the staircase and scoffed up at her. “What?”

  “We had a really great night,” Mira said carefully. “Didn’t we?”

  “Our nights are always great, you know that. Do you need justification every time you satisfy me?”

  “No, that’s not what I meant,” she said and followed him downstairs.

  “Then what did you mean?”

  “I was just thinking maybe we could do something together, like outside. Go to a restaurant, or go dancing.”

  “I don’t dance,” he replied flatly.

  “Of course you don’t.”

  “Look, I don’t know what you were expecting of me, but this arrangement has been working for me so far.”

  “Maybe I want more,” Mira said defiantly, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

  “Well, then you’re in the wrong place, because I don’t do that.”

  “Dax, come one.”

  “You should get dressed,” he said in a neutral tone, which he knew infuriated Mira, but he didn’t care.

  That was his vice. He didn’t give a fuck about other people, and he’d tell anyone who asked that very same thing.

  Dax heard her sigh once more as he turned away and stepped into the kitchen. He flicked a switch on his coffee machine and watched Mira, who was angrily reaching for her clothes and getting dressed. He hadn’t even noticed the color of her figure-hugging cocktail dress last night, not even when he peeled it off her body. He was more concerned with his personal needs to notice anything beyond that.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee?” he asked. Mira glared at him.

  “I thought you wanted me to leave,” she grumbled.

  “Oh, I do. I just thought it was the polite thing to do.”

  “Since when do you care about being polite?” Mira muttered, slipping on her shoes. “You are such an asshole.”

  “Excuse me?” It wasn’t the first time Dax had been called that, and it would definitely not be the last, but it was like fire off a dragon’s back. Words had no effect on him, especially not hurtful ones. Just like his blue dragon scales were impenetrable to everything and anything, including fire and lightning, his heart was impenetrable to any kinds of feelings.

  Mira placed her hands on her curvy hips and narrowed her eyes at him. “You heard me. You’re an asshole. I can’t believe that I waste my nights on someone like you.”

  “You didn’t seem to think so last night, or earlier this morning.” He smirked proudly.

  “Maybe you’re just good at fooling people,” Mira said. “Or fucking them over.”

  “I never fucked you over, not for one bit, Mira. You know that this was all just for fun. We agreed to that,” he pointed out nonchalantly. “No strings-attached sex, no emotions, and definitely no relationships.”

  “No, you agreed to it,” Mira argued.

  Dax simply sipped his coffee. “This conversation is getting tedious. Again.”

  “Of course it is. Anything that requires actual talking or feelings is tedious to you, Dax.” Mira moved towards the front door. “Don’t try to call me again if you’re lonely and horny.”

  “Bye, Mira,” Dax added flatly, inhaling the aroma of his coffee.

  “You will regret this,” Mira warned him before she stomped out of his apartment.

  “I already am,” he mumbled to himself.

  Dax didn’t feel a single shred of guilt when the door slammed behind him, and he continued drinking his coffee, staring out at the Vancouver skyline as the morning began.

  All around him, people were rushing to start their day, to get to work on time, to drop their kids of at school, but not Dax. He had more of a leisurely lifestyle.

  After he had received his royal inheritance from his father, Dax figured that he deserved a life he wanted. He invested in land and property, but most of all, he invested in himself. Although that might sound selfish, the only person he could rely on was himself, and it had been proved time and time again over the last fifty centuries.

  Once he had escaped the gruesome scene of their palace in Lunca in ruins and smoke-filled skies, Dax, along with his three brothers and his parents, went into hiding, as Rhaena the Wicked wished them dead. Although the wicked sorceress perished at the hands of the Queen, the Witches’ Council would soon send another to finish what Rhaena only managed to start.

  There had been a few to date, but for the most part, the Royal Dragons lived a peaceful existence after journeying to America. Of course, they didn’t stay together for very long and scattered to the four corners of the Earth, settling into their new lives.

  Dax closed his eyes as he remembered how powerful they used to be when they were together, and perhaps that was the main reason the others decided to leave. Their combined strength was both intimidating and frightening at the same time.

  Maybe it was all better that way, them being apart. No good ever came of them being together: endless arguments, the power struggles, not even to mention the fiery debates.

  In 166
6, Dax’s two older brothers’ argument got so heated, it caused a great fire in Central London, which was still remembered to this day. Dax couldn’t even remember what the fight was about, only that he was rushed out of their home and had to disappear into the sewers.

  Such a glamorous life we lead, he scoffed to himself and turned away.

  The sound of his phone ringing pierced through the silence, and he quickly answered it. “Good morning, Father.”

  “Indeed it is, Daxard.”

  Dax’s jaw clenched at the mention of his full name, older than the world itself, but his father, being even older than that, still insisted on calling him that.

  “I am not interrupting you, am I?” his father inquired, with a trace of sardonicism in his tone.

  “Not at all, Father,” Dax replied. “I have been awake for hours. You know I don’t sleep much.”

  “You certainly don’t need to remind me of your nocturnal activities, Daxard,” his father muttered in disapproval.

  “Is there a specific reason for your call, Father, or did you just want to ruin a perfectly good day for me?”

  “There is a reason for everything I do. You should know that, Daxard.”

  No matter how much Dax wanted to growl, “Stop fucking calling me Daxard,” he knew it would be futile, as his request would be either ignored or simply discarded as unreasonable. His father was equally stubborn and powerful, as well as very set in his ways—which was quite understandable, since he was over eight thousand years old—so the chances of him actually granting Dax’s request were very, very slim.

  “There is something important I need to discuss with you. I have made reservations for us at Helton in an hour. I will send a car round to pick you up.”