Page 4 of An Accident Waiting to Dragon

And then there was Gwen…

“You can’t do it, can you?” Goran taunted now. “I always knew you were a coward.”

Asher growled deep in his throat. A warning. At the same time, he sent his friend a single thought. “I will take care of them for you.”

Goran’s family. Especially Gwen.

If she ever forgave him…

Eyes glittering with what might be tears but looked like anger, Goran sneered. “Come on,” the challenge rang through the clearing.

His friend was ready for this death. Asking for it. Begging even.

Without warning, his friend lashed out with all the power a wood pixie could muster. Roots of trees burst from the ground, twining together to form a massive sword. He slammed it down on Asher’s back, striking his tail.

Agony ripped through Asher in a searing trail which threatened to obliterate him right there.

Blue flames erupted from his maw on a roar of fury and pain and regret, hitting Goran dead on.

Asher held the fire for longer than he had to. Held it even as his body wavered, swaying like a reed in a hurricane as his own injury shrieked at him. He held it until the trees all around them exploded in flames, and the men watching had to shift themselves to be safe from the conflagration.

The fire cut off abruptly as Asher swayed wildly, then the world tipped over sideways.

The last thing he saw was the pile of ashes on the ground.

Ashes that only seconds ago had been his best friend.

CHAPTER ONE

Asher

* * *

Present day…

As far as Asher was concerned, there was nothing more teeth grindingly frustrating than sitting in a conference room, choked by the fancy suit and tie he’d been forced to wear. He listened intently to another unending debate the bureaucratic types were currently having about the state of dragon shifter kind. Problems that seemed small after five-hundred years of fighting.

But the war was over, the corrupt kings removed, and new leaders installed. And, with the rise of the phoenix, they had peace at last.

Which basically puts me out of a fucking job.

Not really. His position as beta of the blue dragons made him second-in-command and next in line to rule, at least until Ladon and Skylar Ormarr—the Blue Clan’s king and queen—spawned little fire breathers of their own. Problem was, Asher was a warrior, not a diplomat. Talking—unless it involved giving orders—wasn’t exactly his thing.

His dragon huffed in agreement. The animal side of him hated this as much as he did.

The oval shaped table sat fifteen dragon shifters and at least another ten lined the walls in more chairs. And they had yet to settle a single issue. Pussy footing around feelings and playing politics like a chessboard…even a mate by his side wouldn’t make this shit tolerable.

Not that he’d ever have a mate.

He’d lost his chance the day he’d killed Goran.

He just hadn’t known it until later. Until he’d told Gwen…

An image crowded into his head of delicate lines—a face with a slightly pointed chin, freckled-dusted button nose, and golden eyes that had last looked at him as if he’d turned into a monster.

Now that the war was over, maybe the time had finally come to find her and…

And what? Remind her of all the reasons she should hate him?

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