Four years ago, Morgan was found half-dead near the dragon village of Thorsbury Upon Wick.
Morgan cannot remember what happened to her, but the villagers suspect she might be a dragon from their long lost ancestral homeland.
Adopted by the villager...
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E R I K
The fox was alive, and she was my mate.
I massaged the spot the wisp had touched me with the palm of my hand. This had to be a cruel joke. Why had the universe chosen her, of all people, to be my mate?
My heart thundered in my ears. What was I going to tell the others? They all thought she was dead! But here she was, lying on the ground, helpless and injured.
An ache deep inside me demanded that I go and pick her off the ground. It was the same ache that had compelled me to try and save her from that fall.
I ignored it. It didn't matter if she was my mate or not. She was a fox. She deserved to suffer.
The sound of broken twigs echoed across the forest. Someone was coming.
A young man walked into view and rushed to her side. Instantly, angry heat prickled across my skin. Was this her lover?
My fists tightened into angry balls as the young man dropped beside her.
"Morgan, put your hands around my neck," he said softly.
I prickled at the tone of his voice and gritted my teeth when the little fox reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I busted my ankle," she explained, wincing in pain.
He smiled at her sympathetically, and I had to fight the urge not to march over to this young whelp and punch him in the face for touching my woman.
My woman.
I bit back a humourless laugh. I would never accept her as my mate. I'd rather die alone and unmated than take a fox for a bride.
However, I can't stop my heart from clenching each time she gasps in pain.
"I'm sorry, but it really hurts," she winced.
"It's okay. I'll take you back to Thorsbury Hall," he replied.
Morgan's eyes suddenly widen in panic, and I feel myself leaning forward, preparing myself to rush out of the shadows and take my injured mate out of the arms of this man-child.
"You mustn't take me back to your parent's house. I don't want to cause any trouble between your family and mine. Please, Eli. Take me back to the pub," she asked.
The young whelp stared back at her like a love-struck fool. He then leaned forward and pressed his nose against her mane of beautiful red hair and inhaled deeply.
The little fox frowns unhappily and presses the palm of her hand against Eli's forehead.
"Please stop this," She snaps.
But Eli doesn't stop. He had a look in his eye that I'd seen a hundred times as a soldier while watching enemy raids on villages.
