Chapter One

Chapter One

The fucking foxes were at it again.

And these weren’t your run of the mill foxes either. They were shifters and they were lethal, and led by a shifter named Syrus, who had taken over the rule of the shifter pack after his father was killed. Jazdon still had doubts that the old fox king had died of natural causes, but he couldn’t prove it.

A fox shifter noticed him flying overhead and sent up a chatter to the rest of the pack as they picked up speed, their bodies racing easily over the rocky terrain below.

Truth be told, he’d expected the response.

While his dragon form was hidden from humans, it wasn’t from other shifters. With a mixture of blue and gold leathery scales, he knew he cut an imposing sight. It really was genetics. He couldn’t blend in to save his life. Not that he had to worry about blending… At the top of the food chain, things just kind of went his way.

Pausing in mid-flight, he easily held his forty-foot body in a hover, his massive wings swooped out. His gigantic tail hung thick and heavy and curled at the tip beneath him. The pitch-black talons of his claws did a slow curl through the air. Arching his thick neck up, he tipped his head. If his mood hadn’t turned so dark, he might have enjoyed the cool crisp morning.

What the hell are they after?

His reptilian shaped eyes slipped over the rugged terrain and followed the foxes for a few more seconds. When it came to keeping peace on their land, King Reykur left it up to him. As the prince of the Isatolia clan, it was Jazdon’s job to establish order.  He swept the area in front of the pack and ran his gaze over the jagged cliff rocks, searching every alcove and crevice for movement.

Lately, the pack had become notorious for wounding an animal, then giving chase, before finally killing and eating their prey. Which was fine if it wasn’t another shifter or a human. Last time had been a tragedy.

Syrus fucking knows better.

While alive, Jarl had kept Syrus on a short leash. Now however, there was only Jazdon and the force of the Isatolia guards to keep the surly bastard in line. Syrus fucking knew they were hunting across the dragon territory line.

So why do it?

Did the fox shifter really want a war with the dragons? It was a no-win situation on their part, as the foxes were no match for them. Maybe, and that was a big maybe, the fox pack might be able to bring down a lone dragon, but there wasn’t a chance in hell they could take on the whole of the guards.

Jazdon dropped toward the ground, the terrain blurred. Rocks, dirt and grass billowed from the ground when he swooped down over the pack. They converged on their target, which ended up being larger than their normal prey of birds. It was a harbor seal, the most common seal in the area, and it went down beneath the pack’s numbers while the rest of the seals scrambled from the cliffs and dove into the waves below.

“What, don’t think they learned their lesson last time?” Vargla said, his laughing words echoing in Jazdon’s head. Jazdon swooped upward and turned east over the bright lush and rocky landscape, the voice of his first lieutenant coming through loud and clear.

In dragon form, hearing each other’s thoughts was as easy as breathing. They were born with the ability; they communicated through their minds when shifted. Of course, being of royal blood Jaz could turn off their voices easily enough, but he never blocked them while on patrol.

“I don’t trust them one bit,” Jazdon grumbled.

Vargla caught Jazdon as he crested a rise and moved in at his flank. The frost dragon was the same size and texture, with thick leathery scales and lethal talons, their only difference, Vargla’s glittering icy blue color. Well, that and the fact that Vargla breathed ice while Jazdon breathed fire.

“Trust is earned,” Vargla agreed. “Did you notice that was only half their numbers? Where’s the rest of the pack?”

“I don’t know, but I bet Syrus is with them,” Jazdon said.

“Hate that fucker.” Vargla muttered.

Jazdon silently agreed. At some point the dragon king was going to need to make a decision about the Fox leader Syrus. The best course of action, as far as Jazdon was concerned, was to put the fucker down and let the rest of the fox shifters settle on a new leader. But that wasn’t his decision. The sad part was that as with any race, not all fox shifters were bad.

Swooping upward, he spun and shot toward the north in a streak of color. The wind blasted his scales, the cloudy sky a backdrop for the beauty below.

Iceland’s Hornstrandir Nature Reserve had been home to his clan centuries before the humans had named it. The reserve covered over two hundred square miles and attracted many humans all year. Touring trails lined the west side of the reserve keeping most of them away, but every so often humans strayed to the northeast—an area not so easily accessible and one where his home was located.

Hidden to view, the castle stood concealed within the cliff of rocks and lined the length of the Hornbjarg. Jazdon made damned sure that nobody could find their location. For within their granite walls lay the heart of the dragons, the Greengile.

Greengile dragons give birth to their race. The delicate dragons, while strong, were susceptible to danger when pregnant because they couldn’t shift into their more powerful dragon form. Right now, there were few pregnant. And that was a big problem—pregnancy was becoming rare, and their numbers were dwindling.

“Have Maridous place an extra guard at the castle,” he told Vargla. He wanted to be ready just in case the missing half of Fox shifters were up to no good.

“She’s going to love that,” Vargla barked a laugh over their tough as nails general who oversaw the gates of the castle.

The funny part was that Jazdon had been calling Maridous tough as nails since they were young. Jazdon and the other two had grown up running the castle together and where there was one, you’d usually find the others.

Thinking of home made his stomach growl. “I’m hungry.”

“I’m fucking starving,” Vargla agreed.

Turning toward home, Jazdon heard the distant sound of yipping.

“Damn it! That’s the other half of the pack,” he growled.

Jazdon banked toward the west. Vargla barked an order to one of the other soldiers to take a message to Maridous. The young dragon broke away and darted back toward the castle.

“Wait up, Jaz,” Vargla called, zooming after him with the rest of the warriors falling in behind.

Not many could catch him, and he was tempted to slow, but something wasn’t right. The shifter yipping had grown intense with a frenzied sound. One that sent a sour churning in his gut.

Jazdon ignored Vargla’s call and streaked toward the other half of the fox pack. Growing closer, he noticed a dot running ahead.

Fuck.

It was a human.

A male by the look of it and fucking Syrus was leading the charge.

This was going to be tricky.

If he went in with dragon form, the harm could be irreparable to the human’s psyche. If Jazdon shifted, he’d be in human form and vulnerable to the pack. He did have his sergeants and lieutenant with him so he might be able to pull this off.

With his decision made, he tossed out orders.

“I’m shifting. Cover me,” he snarled and slammed toward the ground.

“My liege, no! Wait!” Vargla’s panicked shout echoed in his ears, but Jazdon ignored the frantic plea.

He knew it was a risk, but no way in hell was he letting another human be killed.

The rock cracked beneath his weight and his talons dug into the granite sending debris into the air. He landed between the human and the pack.

With their shields in place, dragon shifters were invisible to humans while in dragon form so he wasn’t concerned about freaking the guy out. The man might hear the earth crack when his dragon form landed, but he didn’t think so because the human was running full out and not looking back.

With a shimmer of light and air, Jazdon instantly shifted into his human form just as his lieutenants slammed into the fox pack. Not waiting to see if his shifters had the pack under control, Jazdon spun and raced after the human.

The man whirled when faced with a dead end at the cliff’s edge. Shock expanded his pupils when they swept over Jazdon’s naked form. The growing noise of the screaming pack faded into the distance as Vargla and his lieutenants fought off the foxes to the point where they turned tail and ran.

“What the fuck are you doing out here!” Jazdon raged, stalking forward.

Stupid bastardwas his first thought; his second was fuck me. He ignored the growing state of his cock.

The man was absolutely and without a doubt the sexiest human he’d ever come across.

And that was saying something.