"Book three of the series opens with a bang. Fraser, Grant’s twin brother who saved High Dragon Aris’s life by taking a bullet only to be taken captive by the evil Templars and to go missing at the end of book one, is lucky to be alive. His mate, Oliver, is a new character; an omega wolf kicked out by his pack for being gay and picked up by the Templars for some nefarious purpose. Both of them together are hot enough for each other to set the pages aflame, and in the middle of trying to get away from the Templars, that doesn’t make their life easier. I was happy to see some of the characters from earlier books return, and with some startling revelations to boot! I predict major excitement coming up in the next few installments – not that this is difficult with everything that’s been going on – and I’m only three books in! Oliver is supposed to be an omega werewolf, but he certainly had me fooled! He is feisty, stands up for himself as much as possible with the Templars’ brutality, and manages to fight for Fraser’s freedom as well as his own while he is at it. He is very young and naïve in many ways, hence the Templars manage to lure him in with the promise of food, but he knows what he wants: and Fraser becomes top of his list as soon as he sees him chained in a cage. It takes Oliver a while to figure out that the attraction he feels is due to the fact they are mates, but once he does, there is no stopping him. He has a keen sense of right and wrong, and some of what he finds in the dragons’ home upsets him. Being Oliver, he sets out to fix it, even against the resistance of some of the dragons. Fraser is biding his time, playing the subdued dragon to lure his guards into giving him just enough freedom to make his escape. It’s the only way he figures he will ever manage to free himself, but he hates every minute. Then Oliver walks into the camp and Fraser is not just immediately attracted, but determined to protect the wolf. Not that Oliver wants protection, and that leads to a few problems, but Fraser is determined not to let that stop him. Oliver is his! If you liked the books in this series so far, if you enjoy watching a much older man get used to the fact that his much younger partner is a lot more self-secure and able to take care of himself than he expected, and if you’re looking for a read that is as tension-filled as it is hot and cute, then you will probably like this novella. I really enjoyed it and look forward to book four!" -- Serena Yates, Rainbow Book Reviews
“I didn’t know dragons could talk,” Oliver said.
The dragon continued to give him an unimpressed stare. “You didn’t know I could talk?”
“I mean, while you’re in your dragon form, you know? I can’t talk when I’m a wolf.”
“Yes, well—” The dragon stopped talking, its head and neck becoming stiff as if it heard something in the distance.
Oliver didn’t hear anything, until he did, and then it was almost too late.
“Get behind me, hurry!” the dragon snapped, and Oliver quickly did what was commanded of him without question.
The second he was out of sight, pressed up against the smooth scales of the dragon’s belly, two Templars walked by. He could hear them chatting among themselves as they made their rounds.
“So what’s going to happen with the werewolf you and Iggy brought in?”
“Don’t know,” said the familiar voice of the other man. Oliver had thought their names were Jason and Michael, the two men who had bought him something to eat. One was actually named Iggy? There was no way the name Jason was real if Michael wasn’t. “He was starving when we found him, though, poor thing. Begging for money in the parking lot of a restaurant, so we fed him.”
“That seems like a good thing. How’s the dragon been?”
Flashlights passed over the dragon’s form, creating a huge shadow that made Oliver all kinds of terrified, but the dragon seemed to be pretending to sleep. Oliver hadn’t realized it had gotten so dark this fast.
“Docile as always. A lucky find, they’re usually so much more aggressive.”
“Yeah, we can keep this one for a while. But what are we going to do with a werewolf?”
The man who had bought Oliver his big breakfast answered. “There’s always a calling for someone. Wolves are supposed to be excellent trackers. Maybe when we get him to see reason, we can get him to help us. He can track other dragons for us. Plus, it’s always good to have a shifter helping our cause. Makes it easier for the public to handle what we’re doing if there are some shape-shifters out there who agree with us.”
“Yeah, that’s true. What a pain in the ass that some bitch in Washington is trying to make selling dragon scales illegal.”
“It won’t matter. The boss has her competitor in his pocket. She’s not going to win that vote.”
The two men walked away, taking their incredibly bright flashlight with them, and Oliver sighed with relief, sagging against the dragon’s scales.
“So that’s what they took you for. Recruitment,” the dragon said.
“They can go to hell,” Oliver said quietly. The scales he leaned against were nice, and almost soft. It was comfortable leaning against them, and he almost found he could go to sleep if he wasn’t so hyped up on adrenaline. His wolf was prowling around inside of his head, eager to run, and yet unable to at the same time.
Because he was next to this dragon? Or because he couldn’t leave him behind?
“You should run,” said the dragon. “It might be your only shot now.”
“What about you?” Oliver asked, and he half turned to look at the dark dragon. It was getting darker and darker, and the black dragon really was starting to look like a clear night sky. He probably would, had it not been for all the chains that were surrounding him.
“I’ve been here a while. I’m biding my time.”
That voice. Such an incredibly sexy, low voice that made his dick hum in his pants and his blood run hotter than it should.
“What’s your name?” Oliver asked. He had to know. He had to know who this dragon was. “I’m Oliver. Maybe I can…maybe I can find someone to help you, someone who knows you, and they can come and save you.”
The dragon lifted its head up to look at him, and those eyes were so intense that Oliver thought he was going to be hypnotized or something. “Thank you,” the dragon said. “My name is Fraser Hamilton. My brother is Grant. I’m not sure where I am, but I come from the Firethorn clan that lives on Black Mountain.”
“Black…that’s in Washington, isn’t it?”
Black Mountain was one of the famous mountains for having sprung from seemingly nowhere, along with several others surrounding it a hundred years ago or so, right when the dragons had revealed themselves to the general population.
Some dragons had been so powerful that they could make mountains grow up right out of the ground, where there weren’t supposed to be any, or hardly any. Supposedly, that had been the event to bring out the Templars, who all wanted to go about their merry way hunting the dragons.
“That’s two states over. How did you get here?” Oliver asked.
Fraser’s eyes widened at that, as if he really hadn’t known he was out of the state.
“Never mind, do you have a phone number? I can call someone for you if I can’t get to them on my own.”
Fraser rattled off a number, and when Oliver repeated it, Fraser said it again and again, until Oliver had it memorized.
This was going to work. Oliver was going to get out of here, find a payphone, and then that would be that.
“Are you going to be all right until someone comes for you?” Oliver asked, and he ran his hand over the spots on Fraser’s body where the missing scales were. On the upper half of his body, the scales were a little rougher, like a cat’s tongue or soft sandpaper. Fraser shivered at the touch, and Oliver quickly pulled his hand away in case he’d hurt the dragon.
“I’ll be fine. You go, now, before you’re caught and skinned alive.”
He’d never even had a tongue in his mouth before. It was slippery and wet, and Oliver just started to suck on it without even knowing why, or if it was doing anything for Fraser at all.
Apparently it was, because the larger man not only moaned, but he also bent his knees down just enough to push their hard cocks together, and he started thrusting forward.
Oliver moaned and came, just like that, so embarrassing and so fast, but there was nothing he could do about it as the shocks rippled through his body, taking his control away from him. It was mortifying, but it felt so damned good.
“Fuck, fuck!” Oliver said when he pulled away from the kiss, and he felt like crying. “Shit, I just ruined it, I—”
Fraser kissed him again, quickly enough to shut him up, but not pushing his tongue deep into Oliver’s mouth like before. “You ruined nothing. That was by far the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”
Oliver wasn’t sure how much he believed that, but Fraser was staring at him with such sincerity, with that same burning desire he had before, that there wasn’t much Oliver could do except for believe it.
Then Fraser’s hand was moving between Oliver’s legs, touching and massaging his cock. It should have been weird, especially since he had cum that was making a wet spot down there, but Oliver could barely take in a proper breath. All he was doing was watching Fraser’s face. The man was staring down at him with as much lust as before. No one had ever looked at Oliver like that, and the fact that he had a mate who wanted him like this was getting to his head. Both of them.
“Oh fuck,” Oliver moaned, throwing his head back and grabbing onto Fraser’s shoulders for dead life.
Fraser was chuckling at him, and then he was leaning down and pressing warm kisses to Oliver’s shoulder. He was slowly pulling at the buttons of Oliver’s shirt with his free hand, exposing more skin for his lips and tongue to press against.
It was so fucking good. Fraser’s mouth was so hot. Literally, it felt like he was burning.
“D–do you have fire powers or something?” Oliver asked. He was so breathless that he was panting.
“No,” Fraser said. “Why?”
“B–because your mouth, oh! Y–your mouth and tongue are burning hot.”
Fraser let out a small rumbling laugh again, and Oliver felt it ripple all the way through his body.
“You’re hard for me again,” Fraser said, and he alternated between rolling his hand, or just sliding his palm up and down, which sent the best kind of pleasure through Oliver’s body. Not even when he touched himself at night, stroking his own cock in just the way he liked, was he ever able to make himself feel this damned good.
Oliver couldn’t even respond. His brain was too busy turning into mash to be bothered with thinking of words to reply to anything that Fraser was saying.
Oliver gasped when he felt himself lifted up into Fraser’s arms, the floor leaving his feet, and then his entire body was on a soft surface that he found confusing for a minute.
Oh, the bed. His brain really wasn’t working.
“I would rip these off of you, gorgeous, but I don’t think we should be stealing anymore clothes today,” Fraser said, smiling at him as he worked on the button and fly of Oliver’s jeans. He wasn’t wearing a belt, so it was a simple matter to get the pants down his hips.
The second the cool air of the room touched his hard cock, which still had drying cum on it, Oliver gasped and felt like he was about to blow one more time just because he could.
“You are so beautiful,” Fraser said, and Oliver filed that away as another word that he didn’t mind being called. At least not by Fraser.
Especially when Fraser leaned down and put Oliver’s cock into his mouth.
“Oh my God!” Oliver moaned, and he immediately threaded his fingers through Fraser’s hair and gripped him tight. The first thing he did, the only thing he could do, was thrust his cock up into that warm space. He was so far gone that he wasn’t even thinking about how Fraser was deep throating him. He wasn’t just sticking around the head and lavishing that with attention, Fraser was moving his entire mouth down the length of Oliver’s cock, and he knew he wasn’t a small guy where his dick was concerned. That was probably the only part of his body that wasn’t overly short.
“You taste so damned good,” Fraser said, and when his hand started working on Oliver’s balls, he lost it again and came with a yell.
Fraser didn’t stop the suction of his mouth or the way he moved. He was determined to milk out every last drop he could get from Oliver’s body.
Oliver, meanwhile, turned into a panting mess on the bed. The only thing he could do was breathe. He was a mindless, boneless pile of slop.
“That was great,” Oliver said. He tried to say it anyway. He was pretty sure that the only thing that came out his mouth was unintelligible noise.
Fraser didn’t seem to mind as he crawled up the length of the bed and pressed another long, luxurious kiss to Oliver’s mouth.
His tongue slid inside, and when Oliver was aware of the different taste, he remembered with absolutely clarity where Fraser’s mouth had just been.
And he didn’t mind it in the least. He moaned helplessly as he sucked on the man’s tongue. It was the most intimate thing he’d ever done in his life, and it was exciting because he knew he was minutes away from doing something that was even more intimate than that.
“Stay here, baby, I’m not done with you yet,” Fraser said.