Skylord: A Dark Dragon Shifter Romance

2020·0.2 MB·english

by  Delta James

Skylord
By
Delta James
Copyright © 2020 by Stormy Night Publications and Delta James
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage
and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Published by Stormy Night Publications and Design, LLC.
www.StormyNightPublications.com
James, Delta
Skylord
Cover Design by Korey Mae Johnson
Images by Shutterstock/vishstudio, Shutterstock/tsuneomp, and Shutterstock/euclem
This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book
are fantasies only, intended for adults.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Similar Books by Delta James
Books of the Wayward Mates Series
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Delta James Links

Chapter One
Failure was not an option.
Two of the Elemental Dragons had awakened—Gideon, Lord of the Earth, and Kellan, Lord of the
Sea—and Aurora meant to see the remaining two did not.
It had taken more than a fortnight to escape and travel from Dragon’s Galloglas to Dunnet Head, their
resting place. Now she was here, standing on the edge of a precipice that led to the opening of the
cavern. There were only two ways to enter the dragons’ lair—lowering oneself from the top, or
magick. The problem with the latter was that the cavern was most likely protected against it. She had
no choice; securing one end of the line around a rock outcropping, she began the treacherous climb
down. One misstep and she would plunge to her death. The final two dragons’ rising had to be
stopped... it was up to her.
Hand over hand she began the rappel down until she was parallel with the opening. She hung
suspended in midair, listening—nothing but the sound of the perilous sea below reached her ears. She
could see nothing more than it was massive and dark. She would need to be inside to decide how best
to accomplish her mission.
Kicking hard with her legs she began to swing at the end of the rope. Each time the line hit the top of
the fissure, it sent a powerful ripple down the remaining length, edging her closer and closer to the
interior. Finally, she was able to swing into the main chamber and she released the rope, hitting the
floor with a thud, knocking the wind out of her.
Catching her breath, she regained her feet and began to explore the dimly lit cavern. There was a
large, central area with a raised altar. No doubt the dragonlords had used it to sacrifice those who
opposed them. Four antechambers were adjacent and appeared to open off the main one, two of the
smaller rooms seemed to have been opened from the inside, the rubble strewn on the floor.
Approaching the altar, she saw three scrolls. She passed her hand quickly over them, ensuring that no
spell protecting them had been cast; just as she reached for the first, the door sealing a third chamber
exploded as dragon fire streamed through. Aurora ran and hid inside, pressing herself against the back
of the chamber. She waited with her dagger poised to strike.
From the fire emerged an enormous man dressed only in a red kilt. This must be Duncan. His
shoulders were so muscular and broad that he seemed to fill the doorway. His upper body tapered
down to a lean waist and hips that flowed into powerfully muscled legs. He had a strong jaw that
seemed to have been cut from the same rock as the cliff itself. His hair was a bit longer than was the
norm, running back in a streak across the middle of his skull and falling in a soft wave to his shoulder
blades. The sides were shorn clean except for several streaks that ran from his hairline up to the
longer mane in the middle of his head.
Aurora shook her head, reminding herself she wasn’t here to admire his almost perfect physique. This
monster had raped, turned, and killed her ancestress and she meant to avenge her. Somehow he must
have sensed her presence as he whirled around, peering into the darkness where she had thought to
hide.
* * *
Duncan filled his lungs fully for the first time in a long time; how long, he didn’t know.
He stretched and shook the last vestiges of sleep from his body and mind. The only sound that
splintered the silence was that of his own breathing. The passage of time had not dimmed his memory.
He remembered there had been an uprising and when it seemed all was lost and that those left behind
would suffer if they continued, he and his brethren—Gideon, Lord of the Earth; Kellan, Lord of the
Sky; and Seth, Lord of Fire—had allowed the sorceress Elspeth to put them in stasis until they might
be needed again.
Rising from his bed, he noticed the thick layers of dust and cobwebs that covered everything. Opening
a chest at the end of the bed, he withdrew a sword belt and strapped it on, then selected and cleaned a
sword. He raised the weapon overhead and brought it down in a swift and deadly arc, then moved
around the room thrusting and parrying, to awaken his body and mind. There was no telling what
awaited him when he unsealed his chamber; it was best to be prepared.
Duncan wondered if his brothers had awakened, what preparations or precautions they might have
taken. Standing back from the wall of rock that had sealed him away from the rest of the world, he
inhaled deeply and blasted the rock with a stream of fire as he exhaled. Watching the wall crumble
into ash, he smiled. Some days it was good to be a dragon.
When no one came through the opening, he waited, listening. The quiet remained except for the sound
of the sea as it crashed against the rocks below. Cautiously, he entered the main chamber. The place
he had said goodbye to his mate, Neeva, when he had sent her to try to safeguard the last clutch of
eggs. She had died alone in that attempt, Kellan having left her to join the rest of them in a futile
attempt to turn the tide of the last battle. Elspeth had put him into stasis before the other three. The last
sound he had heard before sleeping was Elspeth whispering, “You will wake when she and the world
need you.”
Looking toward the other chambers, he could see that Gideon’s and Kellan’s had opened; presumably
they too were awake. Seth’s remained sealed; Duncan grinned. How like Seth to be the last to wake.
Holding his sword in a defensive position, he looked inside both Gideon’s and Kellan’s chambers,
confirming that they too had awakened, but left no trace as to when or where they had gone.
Duncan returned to the main chamber and saw three scrolls on the central, raised altar. He picked
each one up, recognizing the handwriting on each—Elspeth, Gideon, and Kellan. Believing that
Elspeth’s might contain the most salient information, he opened it first.
If you are reading this, then one or more of you have awakened. I know you charged me with
sending you to your eternal rest, but that I could not do. Duncan was mate to my sister, and I
cannot allow myself to believe she died in vain.
The four of you survived for a reason, what that reason is I don’t know, but I have to believe it was
for the good of us all.
The spell I cast was to allow you to rest and awaken only when you were needed, either by your
true heart or because our land was in need of its greatest protectors, the dragons of the elements—
earth, sea, sky, and fire... Gideon, Kellan, Duncan, and Seth.
Elspeth
Duncan shook his head; sorceresses were not always to be trusted and always followed their own
paths. Instead of sealing them away forever, she had cast the spell so that it would be possible that if
they were needed, they would arise. But how long ago had she written these words?
The second note he picked up was the one from Kellan and he cast it aside. Irrational as it might be,
he held him at least partially responsible for Neeva’s death.
My brothers,
So, it would seem Elspeth crafted a flaw in her spell to give us rest. How very much like her sister,
Neeva, she is... or was.
I am the first of us to wake. I do not know how long we slept. I would ask that we each leave a note
for those who remain as to where we have gone. I believe we should return each year at the
summer solstice to ensure the safety of the others.
My first breath brought the scent of my true heart so perhaps Elspeth possessed knowledge that we
did not have. I feel called both to my mate and to Cornwall. I am heading south to find both. I
would welcome you joining me, but if you are called to your own home, I will see you here at the
summer solstice.
If Elspeth is right, the revelation of our true hearts must mean that we were spared to reestablish a
dynasty of dragons. Perhaps this age will see our species and our world returned to peace and
prosperity.
Gideon
Duncan smiled. So, Gideon had been gifted with a true heart, his true mate. He was glad for him as
Gideon had always longed for a mate with whom to sire offspring. There were tales that claimed that
should your true heart be ripped from your embrace, there might be another, but he’d never believed
that. Despite that, he breathed in deeply and was surprised when the earthy scent of heather, violets,
and thistle filled his mind in two ways; the first as a sensory memory and the second as a more
visceral perfume that filled his nostrils.
He shook his head as if to clear it from the remnants of his true heart’s aroma. His grief over Neeva’s
death clutched at his heart despite the passage of time. Still, he needed to see if Kellan had anything to
offer and so picked up the last note.
Seth and Duncan,
I’ve seen the notes from Elspeth and Gideon. I have awakened and am going home to Raicleach. I
intend to rebuild Raicleach and find a mate to breed and sire offspring.
I suggest you each do the same. We can, as Gideon suggested, meet back here at each of the
summer solstices.
I wish you well.
Kellan
How like each of the authors were the two notes; both were representative of the dragons who had
written them. Gideon’s was conciliatory and inclusive, speaking of the future and what might yet
come to pass. Kellan’s—arrogant and dismissive of anyone’s needs beyond his own. If they were
being summoned back to the living, their combined strength must be needed. Perhaps all that had been
lost had not been lost in vain.
Closing his eyes, he took another deep breath, startled as the scent of his true heart once again wafted
across the breeze. When he had visited the cavern in the past, normally it had been filled only with the
strong, briny tang of the sea. But there was no denying that on top of that aroma was the perfume of his
true heart—the combination of heather, violets, and thistle—Neeva’s scent. Had she somehow
survived? Had the news of her death been in error?
“Neeva?” he whispered as he turned toward the scent.
A small, beautiful, decidedly human female rushed out of the darkness of one of the other chambers.
Definitely not Neeva.
“Bastard,” she cried as she brought a knife held over her head down in a deadly arc.