Billionaire Dragon's Bride

By: Anya Nowlan

CHAPTER ONE

Devon



Devon suppressed a groan, standing and staring at Remington with all the barely hidden irritation he could muster. As usual, these council meetings could lead to nothing good.

“You can growl all you want, Devon, it doesn’t make what I’m saying any less true,” Remington said, showing off that simpering smile of his that always reminded Devon of a snake that needed to have his head chopped off. And really, what more was he than a slithering nuisance – a dragon from the south, where the mountains were barely hills and the gold ran scarce?

Grimly, Devon mused once more about why he put up with this bullshit when he could have been doing something more agreeable, like plotting how to grow his wealth or making a woman gasp with the things his tongue could do.

The traditions come first, Devon heard his father’s voice echoing in his ears, always there like a bad migraine whenever he tried to stray too far from what was expected. He sighed, his golden eyes switching from Remington to the other two.

“What say you?” he asked, turning to Cillian, whose emerald green eyes were brimming with mirth. He hoped for reason, but he knew that he would get none from Cillian Greenmeadow when it meant lessening a Bluewing’s irritation.

Easy for him to think this funny. No one’s making him bow to rules so old that the only beings we could reign over when they were devised were lizards and the occasional mammoth, Devon thought darkly, trying to keep his hands from balling into fists.

“I think the southerner has a point,” Cillian said casually, quirking a brow and tossing a look at Remington. “Our fathers ran the council based on the old rules. If we want to toss those out the window now, we better have a damn good reason for it. And I don’t think we currently do,” he offered, shrugging his shoulders. The blonde man, who completed their circle, Alexander Goldplains, nodded as well, scarce of words as he usually was.

Whenever Devon saw the golden dragon without his twin brother Apollo, the livelier of the two, he had to wonder if perhaps Apollo had laid claim to all the words allocated to the pair, and he simply sent Alexander off to grunt and grumble in response. He’d have to ask Apollo that the next time he saw the man at a poker table in Vegas.

If there is another time, he thought bitterly.

Devon could feel his dragon roar and thrash at the idea that the rest of the council presented, the animal coiling into a tight ball and then lashing out within him, pressing against the very edges of his consciousness with its demands to be let free and sort this matter with strength, not rules. He’d always preferred a good fight over hours and hours of arguments, but it seemed that his fellow council members were more civilized than he had hoped.

If some blood was spilled, things would be so much easier – that much he and his dragon could agree upon. But more than anything, he wished to be somewhere far from here and if that place had champagne, hot women and plenty of gold, it would just be an additional boon. He could have been hoping for the ability to turn water into gold for how likely that was to happen.

He pulled a hand through his short, dark hair, which was slicked back and formed long, needle-like scales on his scalp. He was almost smothered in the obnoxiousness of the utter glee he could feel wafting from Remington. Of course Remington liked the idea he was proposing. After all, he was the only one who matched the criteria. Devon’s muscles tensed at the very thought of letting Remington Redblade become the Head of Council.

His family had been nothing more than worthless for centuries – his father had been a letch and there wasn’t a Redblade yet, who could be counted on in battle. The last thing the dragons of Treasure Lane needed right now was a dragon like Remington leading them. Devon could see the destruction and failure that was likely to come if a man with Remington’s lack of character was given the title and the power that came with being Head of Council.

His hands rolled into fists in earnest now, and he had to focus hard on keeping his dragon at bay. Wouldn’t do him any good to outright kill one of the last surviving members of the four dragon families of Treasure Lane. No matter how much he wanted to.

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