Chapter 1
Mid-Summer
The Human Realm
Columbus, Ohio
Bjorn Draig had no idea how the hell he’d ended up here.
Third-born son of Brian Draig, the fourth King of the Dragon Shifters. Gamma to the current Dragon King. Warrior, strategist, occasional executioner of the crown’s will. And somehow, despite all that, he was standing outside a bookstore in Columbus, Ohio, in a line that wrapped around the damn block, waiting to get a book signed.
For a female who wasn’t even his.
The things he did for family.
Apparently, Author-Signed Book Retriever could now be added to his resume.
He’d been standing in line now for three hours, though he planned to keep it a secret that he was at the very back. No one needed to know that he’d arrived later than he should have.
The females in front of him chatted excitedly, clutching their books like sacred relics. Bjorn shoved his hand in his pocket, checked the time on his phone, and tried not to snarl in frustration. Ten minutes into the time of the start of the signing, and the line hadn’t moved.
He was here because of Harper. His brother’s mate. Harper was supposed to come to this event with her mate, Elias, except she’d gone into labor last night and ruined everyone’s plans. Elias, being the soft-hearted bastard he was, had looked at Bjorn with those pleading eyes that said You owe me and somehow, Bjorn had ended up here instead.
Standing in line, waiting to get the autograph of some female who wrote books about dragon and fairy smut. Why in the world Harper, who was Fae herself and committed dragon and fairy smut on a regular basis, needed to also read about it was beyond him.
He didn’t understand females.
Bjorn still wasn’t sure how Harper had thought she was going to manage standing in line like this, nine months pregnant and swollen as a melon. He doubted Elias would’ve let her anywhere near this crowd even if she hadn’t gone into labor.
He sighed, rolling his shoulders, already regretting his life choices, when a voice piped up ahead of him.
“So... are you, like, doing cosplay or something?”
Bjorn blinked and looked up. The woman in front of him had turned around. She was pretty. Dark hair, big brown eyes, and a mouth made for laughing, and judging by the way she’d been sneaking glances over her shoulder for the last few hours, she’d been trying to work up the nerve to talk to him for a while.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
She smirked. “You look like him.”
“Like who?”
“Bastian.”
Her friend snorted beside her.
Bjorn frowned. “Who the hell is Bastian?”
She gave him that look. Half disbelief, half amusement. “The main character. From the Dragon’s Fire series.”
Now he felt like an idiot. “Right. The main character.” From some books he’d never read.
“Uh-huh.” She crossed her arms, clearly not convinced.
Bjørn fought the urge to roll his eyes. “I’ve never read the books,” he admitted, lowering his voice like it was a confession.
Her jaw dropped. “Then why are you here? You’ve been here for hours.”
He smiled sarcastically. “I enjoy standing in line.”
Her friend laughed outright.
“I just...” He stopped for effect. “Find random long lines to stand in. If I see one, I pull up and stand in it.”
The first female just stared at him, eyebrows arched.
“I’m doing it for my sister-in-law,” he said finally. “She was supposed to come, but she had a baby last night.”
Both women softened immediately.
“Aww,” the friend said.
The first one tilted her head. “Did she tell you that you look like Bastian?”
“She might’ve skipped that part,” Bjorn muttered. Of course, she had. Harper would take great delight in all of this.
The woman snorted, clearly entertained. “So, you look like that every day?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He glanced down at himself. He was wearing his favorite black T-shirt, dark jeans, and his most comfortable boots. He blended fine. He didn’t look out of place, did he? “Only on Tuesdays and Fridays,” he added dryly.
Her mouth dropped open before she laughed, shaking her head. “I’m Kate, and you’re funny.”
“Bjorn.”
She gave him another once-over, still smiling. “Nice to meet you.”
The line crept forward again, blessedly, and Bjorn exhaled in quiet relief. If he had to charm one more human, he might lose it. The attention wasn’t new, but it was annoying as hell. He’d fought wars with less staring.
As they moved toward the bookstore doors, more heads turned. Whispered giggles followed. One female actually waved. He ignored them all, choosing to stare at his phone and wondering if maybe he should read this book. It would be more entertaining than just standing here.
Finally, he made it inside the bookstore. The air smelled of paper and coffee and that synthetic floral perfume humans loved to drown themselves in. The noise level was impressive—laughing, chatter, and the occasional shriek of someone spotting a friend or a kid who was completely overstimulated. He could sympathize.
Bjorn’s dragon stirred under his skin, restless and unimpressed.
‘It’s for Harper. You know that,’ Bjorn told him silently.
’Dumb,′ his dragon, Dokkr, shot back. ‘This place stinks. And these humans are loud.’
‘You’re not wrong.’
A group of women nearby caught his attention when one said, “Did you read chapter thirty-two?”
The other gasped. “Yes! I cannot believe how spicy it was! I loved the edging, the queening, and the spicy talk. And that spit roasting? O. Em. Gee!”
Bjorn almost choked.
“Oh, I know. Valentina is ah-mazing. Oh! Did you see that guy at the end of the line? The Bastian look-alike?”
He froze. Harper owed him big time.
“YES! Holy shit, he’s hot.” The woman lowered her voice, but not nearly enough. “I’d let him fuck me all night long.”
Her friend burst out laughing.
Bjorn stared at the bookshelf off to his right, pretending to pursue titles, and tried not to groan. I am going to kill Harper.
′She owes you,′ Dokkr murmured, clearly amused.
′She owes me more than just a niece,′ Bjorn muttered.
“I wonder if he’s single,” another voice said.
“No wedding ring.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s single.”
Bjorn actually rolled his eyes this time. If he somehow ever ended up in this situation again, he’d wear a hat. Or a paper bag. Anything.
The smell of coffee drifted stronger now, warm and bitter. But beneath it... something else. Fainter. Sweeter. He breathed in and froze.
That.
He didn’t know what it was, only that his dragon reacted instantly, his head lifting as Bjorn’s pulse quickened, heat and desire rippling down his spine.
Then-
“Can I get a photo?”
He looked up to find a blond woman a few feet away, phone in hand, smiling too brightly at him, her face eager as she waited hopefully.
“Why?” he deadpanned.
“Because you look just like him!” She fluttered her lashes. “That’s why you’re here, right, Hottie?”
Kate snorted a laugh from ahead of him.
Bjørn gave her a flat look. “I might have to read this damn book,” he muttered.
The blond gasped. “You’ve never read it?”
“Nope.”
She looked scandalized. “Well, can I get a photo anyway? Please?”
Apparently, his sarcasm hadn’t worked. “Fine.”
She squealed, rushed forward, and practically plastered herself against him. He sighed, took her phone, snapped a few shots, and, because he couldn’t resist himself, he kissed her cheek for the last one.
She nearly melted. “You’re the best!”
When she left, Bjorn met Kate’s gaze again.
“Told you,” she said smugly.
He snorted. “Next person who asks for a picture is getting charged.”
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, the line began to move faster. He was close enough now to see the front of the store, where a table sat, flanked by posters of dragons and fire and a smiling woman with dark hair. The author, he hoped. He was over this shit show.
Bjorn checked his phone again. Five hours. Five fucking hours of this. Harper had better memorize the entire book by heart.
His dragon shifted again, restless.
‘Thought you were bored,’ Bjorn said silently.
‘Was. Something smells... good.’
Bjorn inhaled again. That same scent. Sweet. Warm. Wild. It cut through the coffee and perfume, through the crowd itself. He followed it with his eyes, pulse picking up.
There were too many people in the way to see clearly, but the pull was unmistakable. His instincts sharpened, the noise fading until there was only that scent calling to him.
He clenched his hands, fighting the urge to shove his way through the crowd and find who it belonged to. He’d waited this long; he could hold out a little longer.
And then, finally, the crowd parted.
She came into view.
Long black hair in soft curls, blue-gray eyes that seemed to catch every light in the room. Her laugh floated across the distance, and his dragon went still, then leaned forward, straining toward her.
Bjorn’s chest tightened. The scent, her scent, rolled over him in a slow, perfect wave.
When her gaze lifted and found him, it hit like a punch to the ribs.
The rest of the world vanished.
Her lips parted. His breath caught. Time folded in on itself, the hum of the crowd fading until there was nothing but that pull between them.
And he knew.
Every cell in his body, every echo of his dragon’s power, roared the same truth through him.
She was his.
His fated mate.
