The [Not] Cursed Dragon (Deadly Dragons Duet #1)

by Colette Rhodes

“I’m Hiram,” the silver air-dragon said, giving me a cocky grin as he pulled his clothes on. Pretty boy. Arrogant. Would probably cause me trouble. “I’m guessing you’re the Alpha.”

“I’m Levi,” the green earth-dragon said, pulling his shirt on. He had a quiet, peaceful presence. Appropriate for a dragon with an earth affinity. He’d balance out the cocky silver dragon nicely. “And I’m Seff,” the red fire-dragon announced, standing a little further away from us, lacing his trousers. I tilted my head, beckoning him closer. He complied easily. Good. You could never be sure with fire dragons, their temperaments were the least reliable. Seff looked younger than the three of us and like his dragon had only recently emerged.

But the plans I had for my life as a free dragon did not include staying in the den and cooking for the rest of my days. I had things to do. Dragons to slay and so forth.

If I wasn’t free to choose them, to choose this life alongside them, to choose to love them, it could never be enough.

She’d been fresh out of captivity and brimming with hope and curiosity. It was almost a talent, the way we’d quashed that so quickly.

“Shira.” Seff’s quiet voice was pleading, pained. “Come back.” “I’m right here,” I replied, aiming for aloof, though the waver in my voice gave me away. “No, you're not. You're wherever we banished you to because we're fucking morons. This isn't you.”

It had taken just over a week for us to make our mate completely miserable, and she’d been a fucking prisoner before she came to us. There must be some kind of prize for being the biggest assholes in Avalon.

Of course, the gods had given us a mate who’d drug her new father-in-law the first time she met him.

Lying to my brother? Morally wrong. Murdering my enemies while they were unconscious and unable to defend themselves? Kind of gray area.

Until recently, I’d agreed. But there was nothing delicate about a dragon who poisoned her father-in-law and escaped through a pitch-black tunnel into the complete unknown. Shira had bigger balls than I did.

“She’s a talented artist,” Ilia added with a small smile. “Those murals she painted on the cave walls were beautiful. I hope you’ve given her some paints.” Of course, we hadn’t given her paints. We’d given her all the flour she could ask for so she could bake to her heart’s content, and a steady supply of dried petals and soap to do laundry. I despised myself.

“Do goblins have mates?” “No, we reproduce independently by laying eggs under the light of the moon and calling on the dark spirits to hatch them,” she deadpanned.

“You wouldn’t know a curse if it jumped up and bit you on the nipple,” she gasped, wiping away a tear from her eye. “So how else do you explain all the terrible things that have happened to me?” I challenged, putting the bag on the table and lifting my arms in exasperation. “Life, little dragon.”