Dragon Lords Blood Contract Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  FREE Bonus Chapter!

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Sneek Peek: Dragon Lords Blood Pact

  Sneek Peek: Finding My Mate

  Sneek Peek: Protecting My Mate

  Books By Rylee

  About Rylee

  Dragon Lords Blood Contract

  By Rylee Winters

  Copyright © 2019 by Rylee Winters.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

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  PROLOGUE

  Ethan

  “The sphere’s seal is breaking,” the Lord Chancellor announced, his brows serious and voice heavy with worry and unease. “Grand Vizier, what progress have you made?”

  “Your Graces,” Ethan addressed the five Elders, stepping from the shadows and forward into the light, to bow. “Our enemies grow bold. They prowl at the edges, seeking to seize an opening, an opportunity, to sever the ascension to the throne.”

  The atmosphere in the Council chamber grew even more sombre and grim.

  “What measures have been taken to protect the four princes?”

  “I have cast a temporary protection charm. But this will not last. My powers are unable to sustain it for more than a few more moons.” A gloomy look flickered across Ethan’s features, as he said the last bit with a tinge of shame. “But I have found a possible solution.”

  “The King is dying,” the second Elder, seated to the Chancellor’s right, said. “I fear he may not last past this spring… There’s a chance he may pass before the selection process is complete.”

  The news was bleak; the king’s condition even more critical than Ethan had anticipated. “How is His Majesty now?” he asked, almost fearful of the answer.

  “He is being heavily guarded, but remains weak, lying in bed, barely speaking. His breathing grows more labored each day.”

  “Is there no way to save him?” Ethan’s voice seemed to hitch with emotion, which he quickly suppressed down. But the desperation in his words was clear.

  The Lord Chancellor shook his head sadly, tugging at his gray, wizened beard. “There is no cure for his ailment. The poison from the snow beetle infects his blood, and consumes more of him with each passing day. Only blood letting has sustained him to this point, thus far.”

  Ethan swallowed the gravelly lump stuck in his throat, picturing an image of his aged father lying on his deathbed.

  “We are relying on you, Ethanial. The fate of all dragons and our future offspring, rests heavily on your shoulders. You must proceed as planned.”

  “Yes, your Grace. I will do all that is necessary to protect the princes and ensure the bloodline remains intact.”

  The Lord Chancellor nodded. “Good… Good. The magic cast on the seal that keeps Azareth locked away is weakening and must be restored. The witch must not be allowed to escape. Otherwise, she will destroy our world and put an end to our kind – blood, death and chaos will rain upon us.”

  Ethan held his back and shoulders straight. “I understand. I will not fail,” he said, all steely determination.

  “Very well. Keep us abreast of any news. Do not let your guard down.”

  With a curt wave, the Lord Chancellor dismissed him.

  Obeying, Ethan bowed, and retreated back into the shadows.

  The meeting was over. Time was precious. There were other pressing matters to deal with.

  Outside the Council chambers, he twisted the inner band of his gold ring. It clicked once the small amber gem fell into alignment.

  Activating a transportation portal with a wave of his hand, a black void opened up in the air, its edges spiralling out into swirls of electric purple.

  With straight shoulders, and a heart full of firm resolve, he stepped in, and disappeared into the darkness.

  The portal closed.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Jasmine

  The trouble began at midday. It had been a slow morning spent answering a few email enquiries from prospective clients: a case about a missing family heirloom, a cheating husband, stolen jewelry – nothing extremely interesting, but small jobs that would help pay the bills.

  I sat back in my chair, and propped my feet up on my cherry oak desk. Scattered across its surface was organized chaos – towers of paperwork piled high, waiting for me to complete and finish filing away.

  I moaned, covering my face in my hands.

  I hated paperwork.

  I hated it more than almost anything.

  My brain just seemed to automatically shut down and stop working whenever it came to admin and filing. I’m sure there was some legitimate clinical medical condition for this - they just had to find a name for it.

  I was contemplating how I should tackle this undesirable task, when there was a knock at my office door.

  A happy distraction.

  I plopped my feet off the desk, and sat up properly so I could reach my laptop and turn on the video feed from the secret camera I had outside. It was installed inside one of the two ironcast lanterns secured on the wall on either side of the door.

  The camera revealed a man with short dark hair and wearing sleek black glasses, standing outside. He seemed out of place in the plain white hallway in his posh clothes.

  Wearing a dark gray fitted suit, with his hair parted off-centre and fringing his forehead on one side, and carrying a slim brown leather briefcase in one hand, he looked like he’d stepped out of a cover of GQ magazine.

  I wondered if he’d gotten lost.

  The stranger seemed to be gazing curiously at the large lion statue guarding the door, an amused smile playing on his lips.

  He ran his fingertip across its marble fangs, appreciating the artistry. Little did he know, hidden inside was a smoke bomb, powerful enough to fill the entire hallway if released.

  It was a safety precaution I’d built in case I was ever cornered inside my office and needed a way to escape. The trigger for the bomb was built into the underside of my desk. I’d only ever had to use it twice in my life. Both times, the bomb had proved to be highly effective.

  Mister GQ knocked again and I pressed one of the buttons under my desk, unlocking the door with a buzz.

  “Come in!” I hollered.

  I watched as the
mysterious man entered, and looked around the room critically.

  Dark brown eyes took in the sparse interior – a long lounge with two matching single chairs and standing lamps on one side – the lounge often acting as a second bed for me when work got busy – and a few vases filled with pink cherry blossom branches, adorned the back half of the room. At the front half, I sat at my desk with gray steel filing cabinets standing up against the wall behind me.

  The man walked towards me, his eyes sweeping over the messy piles of papers and folders threatening to completely overtake the desk space in front of me.

  As I studied him, I pretended not to notice the look of judgement that passed over his handsome features, and acted as if my office wasn’t the complete mess it was in. If he had a problem with it, he’d just have to deal with it.

  I gestured for him to take a seat.

  “Please, sit down, Mr…?” I trailed off, raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

  “Payne…Ethan Payne.” He looked up from my desk to smile at me crookedly. Unable to help himself, it wasn’t long before he glanced down again, eyes continuing to take measure of the various heaps of paper strewn across the top of my table – perhaps trying to determine what I was working on.

  I shrugged, not bothering to apologize for the clutter.

  Taking a seat in one of the two chairs occupying the space in front of my desk, he placed his leather briefcase down on the floor, before straightening up and sitting back in the cushioned seat.

  “How can I help you?” I asked, clasping my hands together.

  “You are Miss Jasmine Wyatt, I presume?” he asked in a deep voice with an English accent.

  “Yes, that’s right,” I nodded, scanning him from top to bottom.

  Neatly shaven, clean manicured hands, stylishly dressed in a well ironed tailored suit with a plain black tie – trendy, but not overstated. A young professional from my guess.

  And from what my nose was telling me, his metrosexual look belied a dominant masculine scent.

  “I’m looking for someone with your particular skillset to help me and my team with a specific problem.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “And what kind of problem would that be?”

  “We need help locating an item.”

  “Go on.”

  “It’s an artifact of sorts. A very ancient one. It hasn’t been seen for quite a while.”

  “Hmmm…” Tilting my head to one side, I gave Ethan a questioning look. “How long are we talking about? A year, two years, or maybe five?”

  Ethan paused. “More like a few centuries.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath, locking my gaze with Ethan’s, and stared at him in keen interest. “And what makes you think I can find it?”

  Ethan leaned forward in his chair, flashing me a charming smile.

  “You’ve come highly recommended, Miss Wyatt. I’ve spoken to a few of your past clients and they all say you’re amazingly skilled at finding even the most secret and well concealed objects…”

  “Is that right?” I laughed dryly.

  “Yes. I’ve also heard you’ve got a real talent for getting people out of sticky situations. Both these capabilities makes me feel confident you’re well equipped to help me with my situation.”

  Examining Ethan carefully, I tried to work out who he’d spoken to, and whether it included any of the clients I’d pissed off to the point they hated my guts. At least a dozen people came to mind who would have less than glowing remarks to say about me – particularly the ones that had tried to cheat me by not paying.

  “Tell me more about the job,” I finally said.

  “My team and I are looking for an enchanted amulet. It’s said to have once belonged to the great Merlin. Word has it that the amulet is a conduit between the owner and a powerful oracle in another plane.”

  “Is this a hoax? Or some sort of wild goose chase?” I cracked a laugh, checking to see if I’d heard right. A mystical amulet belonging to a legendary wizard, powerful enough to connect someone to another dimension. My first thought was, this guy must be smoking something.

  “I assure you, I am being very serious. The amulet exists, and I need you to help me find it.”

  “Okay,” I said, deciding to play and see where this would go. “Have you got any leads?”

  “We’re chasing one down at the moment. All signs look positive so far, and I’m hopeful it’ll help point us to the general location of the amulet.”

  I nodded, acknowledging the information, humming as I drummed my fingers on the arm of my chair.

  “So, what do you need me to do exactly?” I asked, lifting my brow curiously.

  Ethan smiled at me thinly, and got straight to the point. “I won’t beat around the bush with you Miss Wyatt, since time is one of the commodities I value the most. I know you have the special ability to scent magical signatures, and it makes you one of the best trackers out there. I need you to use this talent of yours to help me and my team to find the exact location of the amulet.”

  The tapping of my fingers came to an abrupt halt.

  “Do I now?” I said archly, pausing to assess Ethan’s expression. “Then, why is it I can’t smell yours?”

  There was a moment of silence as Ethan locked eyes with mine, holding my gaze steady with his. Then answering in a quiet voice, he said, “Perhaps I don’t have one.”

  I sniffed as if scenting the air, then pursed my lips. “Oh no, it’s faint. But it’s definitely there. I just can’t tell exactly what you are. It feels like something between a sorcerer and a shifter…only I can’t quite place it.”

  Now that got Ethan’s attention.

  He smiled at me wryly. “Your reputation is well earned, Miss Wyatt. I can see why you come so highly recommended.”

  “You flatter me. Now, are you going to tell what or who exactly you are? I’m not too comfortable dealing with unknowns,” I said, pulling a tight smile.

  I watched as Ethan seemed to consider my request, but not unexpectedly, he smiled back, shaking his head. “It’s a long and complicated story, and not important to the job. Perhaps we should discuss the details of the job instead?”

  My eyes narrowed as I stared suspiciously at the man in front of me, wondering if Ethan was even his real name. But this wasn’t the first time I’d encountered a secretive client. In the end, if the man was going to pay well, I didn’t care if his name was Troy or Gulliver.

  “What are you offering,” I asked coolly, plastering on an almost disinterested expression.

  “A hundred thousand dollars and a bonus.”

  I perked up, both at the number and the promise of more. “What sort of bonus?” I asked slowly, trying not to appear too keen.

  “A fifteenth century scrying mirror, crafted by Nicolas Flamel himself.”

  “The famous sorcerer slash alchemist,” I blurted out, jolting forward in my seat, and completely forgetting that I was pretending to be indifferent.

  “The very one.”

  I sat back impressed, and let out a soft appreciative whistle. It was hard to belief such a rare artifact was being offered on the table.

  Then something occurred to me. I narrowed my eyes at Ethan and said, “How can I be sure you even have this mirror? For all I know, you could just be lying – or maybe what you have is a fake.”

  Ethan appeared unruffled by my scepticism. On the contrary, he even seemed prepared. Bending over to reach down to his briefcase, he opened it a crack, and pulled out a standard sized document, and tossed it onto the table.

  It landed with a small puff of air on a cluster of papers occupying the area right in front of me, sending a few sheets skittering astray.

  “Blood contract,” he declared brusquely.

  I froze, eyes widening as I looked down at it, wondering where the hell this guy had procured that level of magic from.

  “Just who are you?” I asked sharply, head snapping up to glare suspiciously at Ethan. There was a discernible edge to my voice.

  “Not
an enemy. So don’t make me one,” Ethan said evenly, his expression and posture calm and poised.

  My eyes narrowed to slits, but I didn’t try to kick him out.

  This guy was way more capable and dangerous than I’d first given him credit for. And although he didn’t seem to be a threat to me right now, things could always change in the split of a second. It would be best not to let my guard down.

  “Who the hell are you and what do you really want?” I hissed, demanding to hear the truth.

  There were not a lot of people who knew how to obtain a blood contract, and even less who knew how to create one. Outside of very powerful or extremely evil demons and magic wielders, there wasn’t anyone else who traded in them. Unfortunately, I had no idea which category Ethan fell into.

  And if he was one of those people who dealt in the dark arts, then I wanted to avoid him as much as possible.

  “I told you who I am. My real name is Ethan Payne. I don’t have any ulterior motives, and I’m here to give a legitimate job offer to you.”

  I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest sceptically. “And I’m just suppose to believe that?”

  “Jasmine. I hope you don’t mind me calling you that…,” Ethan started. “Let me be frank with you. I’m interested and willing to pay for your skillset because I’ve heard a lot of good things about you, and this shouldn’t come as a shock to you – but I expect results. Results I think you can produce. Now, I’m offering a generous compensation package for your services. If you’re not interested in taking it, I can go elsewhere.” He finished, not at the least bit ruffled by my outburst.

  I grunted, but unfolded my arms, losing a bit of the hostility on my face.

  Ethan continued to speak, acting like we were having a simple chat over coffee. “Word on the street is you’re searching for someone. With the money I’m offering you and the precious scrying mirror – this would undoubtedly open new avenues for you in your search.”