THE MATING CLAIM: Werewolves of Montana Book 14 Read online

  THE MATING CLAIM

  Werewolves of Montana Book 14

  Bonnie Vanak

  Contents

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Epilogue

  The Werewolves Of Montana Series

  Werewolves of Montana listing continued

  Werewolves of Montana listing continued

  Book listing continued and copyright

  Blurb

  A powerful wizard must retrieve a book of dark magic from the pretty dragon shifter he’s falling in love with before it unleashes demons intent on destroying the world.

  Dragon shifter Lacey McGuire is in big trouble. Not only is she flat broke, but she has an immortal wizard pursuing her for possessing an illegal book of spells. Drust, the Coldfire Wizard, needs to destroy the book, but Lacey sees the book as her financial salvation. What Lacey doesn’t know is that the dark magick within the book can unleash a horde of demons hell bent on taking over the world. Equally dangerous are Lacey’s growing feelings for the sexy, intriguing Coldfire Wizard, for love is more lethal to her than any magick book.

  Controlled and disciplined, Coldfire Wizard Drust has vowed never to fall in love with a dragon shifter, but elusive Lacey threatens his resolve. Her fiery spirit and wicked sense of adventure bewitch him as much as they vex him. Drust must convince Lacey to surrender the book so he can destroy it. When a desperate Lacey uses another spell from the book, Drust will go to extreme lengths to protect her from the evil threatening to steal her very soul…

  Prologue

  In the shadows, no one could hear you scream.

  Screaming in this house did no good. It only upset Evie, and Lacey would never cause fear or panic in her little sister.

  Melanie shoved the filthy rag into Lacey’s mouth, causing her to nearly choke. Binding her wrists with rough rope, the woman tossed the hemp over a rafter and pulled tight. It forced Lacey to stand nearly on tiptoe. Muscles straining, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  Maybe it would go quickly today.

  Her foster mother’s moods swung like a pendulum these days. One never knew if she would reward her and Evie with ice cream for simply doing their homework…

  Or beat her because Lacey had failed to pick up one dirty sock from beneath the bed.

  Or simply punished her because their foster mother felt like it. Melanie looked like a thirty-year-old brunette human. Her Otherworlder true self was a dragon shifter, like them. But unlike other dragon mothers, Melanie held no affection for children. She hated witches and any time Lacey mentioned witches, or potions or witch magick, Melanie flew into a rage.

  Today’s punishment would be particularly brutal, for Melanie had caught her reading a book of spells and potions Lacey had borrowed from a friend whose mother was a witch.

  The book ended up in the fireplace.

  But Lacey vowed to remember the spells. They transfixed her with wonder, filled her with power. One, a vanquishing spell, sounded powerful enough to use on Melanie herself.

  It was supposed to banish demons, and her foster mother certainly fit the bill. Lacey had memorized that spell.

  Lacey thought of the laptop holding the information on her file, the file she’d stolen from Melanie’s office. It contained information about her birth father’s last whereabouts. Scotland. A castle in the highlands.

  I’ll find you, dad. I know you and mom didn’t surrender me to the orphanage because you didn’t love me. I’ll find you, and mom as well.

  Her birth father was a mystery, but Lacey had to believe he wanted her in his life. Often she imagined him as a kindly scholar bent over ancient texts in a dusty study, immersed in researching their family’s ancient lineage. Dragons were fierce advocates of bloodlines. Parentless Lacey and Evie had none.

  But she would someday. For now, she had to endure the brutal beatings.

  Evie was too little to take this kind of punishment. Lacey always did it for her to protect her foster sister. She had tougher skin. It had been broken time and again by Melanie’s cruelness.

  Then again, Melanie never seemed interested in punishing Evie. Only Lacey.

  No tears. Never let them see you cry. It empowered her foster mother.

  “Disgusting. Simply disgusting. That book you read is obscene.” Melanie yelled. “You’re a witch! A bad, bad witch!”

  Peering over one shoulder, she spotted what her foster mother held. Not the wooden spoon or her favorite blunt object – a leather belt. The beatings were tough, but she endured.

  Panic squeezed her stomach. She’d never survive this…

  She heard the whistling of the bullwhip through the air before it struck her bare back. Lacey bit hard on the rag as the burning pain began.

  Lacey clung to the ropes binding her, imaging her unknown father rushing into the tiny house, bursting through the door. Roaring as dragon, sweeping red flames over the stuffy furniture, bellowing with rage. Then shifting into his human form to address Melanie’s cruelties.

  “You hurt my little girl,” he’d yell. “You shall pay.”

  And then I’d watch as Melanie dropped the whip and backed up, screaming in terror as Dad shifted into dragon. But he wouldn’t breathe fire on her. No, I’d tell him to be merciful, and get me and Evie the hell out of here.

  She and her little foster sister would cling to the spikes on her father’s dragon back as he rose magnificently into the sky, taking them to his opulent castle in Scotland.

  Anywhere but here.

  She tried to hold fast, tried not to cry, but after the fifth blow, tears gushed from her eyes. Melanie chortled with glee.

  “You have bad witch blood in you,” she yelled again.

  As the whip descended again on her back, Lacey made a vow. Never again would she cry in front of someone to give them power over her.

  No more mercy. Some day she would find Melanie.

  And in the shadows, she would make her scream…and scream…and never stop.

  Chapter 1

  Love was a myth to Lacey McGuire. Certainly as much as she wished to find it, searched far and wide for it, love had evaded her.

  Now a powerful wizard had taken away her one shot at it.

  “You killed my father. The father I’d never met, the only man I’ve ever searched for all these years, the man who was my ideal. You destroyed him.”

  Lacey stared at Drust, the immortal Coldfire Wizard. Okay, maybe her father was only ideal in her mind, because she’d met him briefly and at the time she had no idea who he was. But that didn’t excuse Drust’s actions. The guardian and judge over all dragon shapeshifters executed the one man she’d pined for her entire 25 years.

  Drust rubbed his chin, covered with a well-trimmed black beard. His striking blue gaze met her stricken one.

  “I told you, Lacey, I had no choice. Miles Wharton presented a grave danger to…”

  The pressure in her head threatened to cut off her air flow. She could no
t breathe, could not think, nor even hear the words uttered in his deep voice. Words failed her suddenly. She could only move her mouth up and down like a goldfish caught in a glass globe. Drust was the cat, sharp talons trying to swipe the fish out so he could play with it.

  He’d always played with her like a cat did, threatening to punish her for breaking one rule or another. Usually she shrugged off his threats. But this time, she could not rebound.

  Bottles, vials of potion, bundles of sage sailed through the air towards Drust’s head. The wizard deflected each one with little effort.

  “Lacey, I will explain…”

  “Explain this, you dickwad,” she yelled, tossing another bottle at him. “He was my father!”

  “I know. But he had gone quite mad and there was no cure…”

  Lacey tuned him out, grief spiraling out of control. She never cried in front of anyone, not since the day her foster mother whipped her until the tears came. That day, Tristan, the Silver Wizard, had rescued her and her foster sister Evie and delivered his own punishment to Melanie.

  But now Tristan wasn’t her guardian or judge anymore. Drust was – the powerful Coldfire Wizard was a dragon shifter himself and ruled over the fates of all dragon shifters.

  A warm hand gently clasped her shoulder. Maybe he meant it as comfort. She jerked away, not wanting his touch.

  “The Book of Shadows you are hiding is not meant for mortals, Lacey. This is why your father died…”

  She didn’t care that Drust could vaporize her in a heartbeat. Or that he stood there, a shadow of anguish in those deep blue eyes, looking helpless.

  Helpless as a centuries-old immortal wizard could look.

  Drust slid a palm over her cheek, cupping it. He lifted her face to meet his gaze. She wanted to struggle free, but captivated by his touch, she did not.

  Instead, she looked at his face and those piercing blue eyes, filled with mystery and shadows. And perhaps a touch of compassion.

  “So frail,” he murmured. “Yet strong. Ah, you are young, but in your eyes, I see an ageless soul.”

  Her mouth wobbled as the tears threatened to spill over. The wizard seemed intrigued by her.

  “I would kiss your tears away, if that would ease your grief.”

  The whisper was so faint, she might have imagined it. Drust, the powerful dragon wizard, wishing to kiss her? Lacey blinked and saw a potent mix of desire and tenderness in his gaze.

  Equally drawn to him, she felt like a moth beating delicate wings against a fire. Dragon though she was, Lacey couldn’t help the emotions careening through her, sending her spiraling out of control.

  Overriding the grief and rage was a hot mix of desire and confusion. Why was she attracted to this wizard? She had never been drawn to men of power. Instead, she avoided them and sought to rescue those subjugated to them.

  He will crush you like a bug beneath his heel. Never forget that. Do not trust those with more power than you, Lacey. Remember the foster home?

  She pulled free and the moment shattered, like glass.

  “Lacey…”

  “Just leave me. Go.” Lacey slumped to the ground, her heart shattered, her grief threatening to pour out in sobs.

  Never cry in front of the enemy.

  Silence for a minute in the shop, but for her heart thudding against her chest, her lungs squeezed air in and out. Nails dug into her tender palms as she squeezed her fists.

  Never cry in front of the enemy.

  “I will leave you alone for now. But I must return. You will give me that book,” Drust finally said.

  Feeling the breeze in the air, she glanced up. He was gone.

  Her heart shattered as she curled into a ball, and finally released the choking grief consuming her.

  Being an immortal wizard with powers enough to level a city was little defense against a woman’s tears.

  Especially when he was the one who’d caused them.

  Shifting into his dragon form after he left Lacey’s shop, Drust flew high above the city, invisible to all the humans, or Skins, as Others called them. He could breathe coldfire upon their houses, destroying them before they even blinked, and no one would see the source.

  But right now he cared not for his powers nor for Skins.

  Guilt and compassion warred within him. As the immortal Coldfire Wizard, it was his duty to protect his dragon shifter charges, and to pass judgement over them when they broke the rules.

  Possessing the Book of Shadows definitely was a rule-breaker. And yet he found that mattered not as much as the tears swimming in Lacey’s huge green eyes, tears she refused to shed before him.

  He’d wanted to reach out, wipe away a single tear with the edge of his thumb.

  He’d wanted to gather her into his arms and comfort her as she sobbed.

  He’d wanted to kiss her and kiss her well, until they let their rising passions overtake them.

  He could do none of these things. What the hell was wrong with him for even thinking this way? She was a mortal dragon, his charge.

  Lacey McGuire was a striking dragon shifter, perhaps not beautiful in a classic sense, but arresting. Hard to forget with eyes green as his beloved forests of home, a take-charge attitude and her long brunette hair usually tied back in a braid swinging down her shapely backside.

  She was tall as well, only a few inches shorter than him, and albeit too thin for a female dragon. He frowned, considering. Had she been eating properly?

  Her diet is not your concern. Focus!

  Lacey McGuire was a troublemaker and rebellious. One must be stern with such dragons, for his people breathed fire and out of control, they presented a grave danger to the populace.

  Just as her father had.

  And yet he couldn’t find it in his heart to bend her to his will, get the damn book and leave. He’d never been this soft-hearted.

  With a low growl, he roared at the clouds, flying higher and faster to clear his head.

  When he became a wizard of the Brehon, rescued from the underworld after centuries of loneliness, he vowed to the goddess Danu he would serve her well.

  In silence, he’d made his own personal vow – never get involved with any assignment and become close to them. Because that meant erring in judgement and perhaps failing to live up to his strict personal standards of delivering justice.

  And yet Lacey, tempting fruit, stood between everything he cherished and everything honorable. She bewitched and irritated him.

  She aroused him as well. And why did she bear a dragon birthmark on her neck identical to the one he had on his body?

  They had no connection to each other, either now or in his mortal life. Drust would have remembered a fiery soul such as Lacey had she been reincarnated. Even hundreds of years later, he remembered each one.

  A flicker of memory teased him. Just a flicker, like a shadow passing before him. He’d been select with his lovers back then, prudent because of his heritage and proud family history. Fathering bastards was against his strict code of honor. Oh, he’d had a few lovers, but none memorable and he’d ensured no pregnancies resulted.

  And yet Lacey, there was something familiar about her and haunting…

  Damn woman! Roaring, he sprayed a line of coldfire at the clouds. They instantly froze and splintered, causing snowfall.

  A grim smile touched his dragon mouth. Let the good folk of Florida see that weather oddity.

  Lacey must turn over the book. Was it his fault he’d executed her father in order to save lives?

  When he’d become a wizard of the Brehon only three years ago, he knew it would be a challenge. He silently vowed to save as many lives as possible, and to be merciful and just.

  But no one, not even his mentor Tristan, had warned him decisions could have consequences other than justice.

  No one warned him those decisions could break hearts as well.

  An eagle, circling over a mirror-smooth lake below, turned its head and seeing him, squawked in alarm.

 
Amused, Drust grinned, displaying jagged teeth. Dragons were not invisible to animals, which had proven to be problematic at times.

  “Fear not. I’ve already dined and I have little appetite for fried bald eagle,” he spoke aloud. “But if you have any words of wisdom on how I can convince Lacey McGuire to forget her father’s untimely death and do my bidding, I welcome them.”

  Obviously not offering anything, the eagle dove towards the lake.

  “Some help you are,” he muttered.

  Much as he hated to admit it, he needed guidance from Tristan, his mentor. And then he would visit his castle and meditate. Meditation soothed his jagged nerves. Perhaps he would drop by and see Sebastian and Sienna. Alexander was in town, too. His descendants always seemed overjoyed to see him. Chase, his apprentice, was planning a wedding to Evie, Lacey’s foster sister. Drust had granted him several weeks to enjoy himself. He would attend the wedding, of course.

  Family was everything to dragons. So was his own family.

  Sighing, Drust flew north.

  But he still could not get Lacey out of his mind.

  Chapter 2

  It was a bright, sunny day in Tir Na-nog, home to the powerful wizards of the Brehon, but the lovely weather held no interest for Tristan, the Silver Wizard.

  Instead, he sat in his favorite leather armchair in the library of his castle, reading a book. Xavier, the Crystal Wizard, played with building blocks on the carpet near the massive stone fireplace with Sonia, his toddler.