Page 1 of The Dragon of her Dreams

Chapter 1

Vanya

OUR THIRTIETH BIRTHDAYwas just around the corner, and my siblings didn’t even seem to care that such a massive milestone was approaching.

And why would they?

Anselm and Jessa were both happily married and had brought children into the world with their mates last year. My sister had been blessed with a pair of beautiful twins, and Kayla had given my brother a strapping son. My siblings were busy, content, and flourishing in their new lives.

I, on the other hand, was not. I spent far too much time trying not to compare myself—the proverbial old spinster—to my amazing brother and sister, Prince Anselm and Princess Jessa, the pride and joy of our powerful kingdom. But what made the comparisons particularly annoying and hard to deal with was the fact we weren’t just any ordinary siblings. We were triplets. A natural trio born within mere minutes of each other. As a result, people had been comparing us to one another our entire lives.

And with our baby brother, Iain, now mated to Veronica, I’d definitely been left behind. I distinctly felt like I was letting everyone down. I wasn’t the golden child, or the pretty child... I was the dark, waifish, and bookish outcast.

What do I have to offer my amazing family?

“Good morning, beautiful girl,” Mom said, walking gracefully into the dining room for breakfast. “How’d you sleep?” Our mother had been injured last year and now walked with a steel cane to help her balance, but she was still as beautiful as ever. The kingdom adored her, as did our father.

“Pretty good,” I lied, not wanting to get into it. Truthfully, I’d stayed up far too late reading a book from the library until sleep had claimed me, only to wake up in a sweat, having dreamed of a man I’d never seen before. I wasn’t usually one for erotic dreams, but last night had been truly incredible, and I found myself missing the mystery man.

My mother sat down in her high-backed chair opposite me and poured herself a steaming, fragrant cup of tea—her regular morning ritual. Everyone knew that after her tea she’d have hot buttered toast with jam or a sweet pastry, then some yoghurt and fruit. She was a creature of routine and stability in our sometimes chaotic and crazy dragon shifter family, though she had her fiery side. “Have you ordered your dress for the party yet?” she asked, referring to our upcoming thirtieth.

I grabbed a piece of tasty cheese and a handful of dark purple grapes. I’d lost a little weightagainand needed to eat enough to fill out my elegant dress. “Yes. Weeks ago, actually,” I answered. “I wanted to make sure it was done in time.”

When I’d spoken to the dressmaker, it had crossed my mind that my sister might want a new dress too, and I’d considered calling her to ask if she wanted to join me for a fitting or two. Then it had occurred to me that she would probably be wearing something gifted to her by Marienne, her mother-in-law.

In that moment, the chasm between us seemed even greater than ever before. My siblings were living their lives, and I was almost of a matronly age and still living with our parents... We’d gone from being a trio of best friends with the whole world ahead of us, to being grown adults with separate lives, and it hit me hard.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Mom asked suddenly, her serene features marred by a grimace of concern. “You look sad.”

“Oh no, I’m fine,” I managed to say with a forced smile, though that too was a lie. I took a fresh, still-warm bread roll from the woven basket in front of me and pulled it apart with my fingers absently. “I’m just feeling a little lonely, I guess. You know, with everyone being away at the moment.”

Anselm and his wife were visiting Aunt Cass in the North, and Jessa was at Erik and Marienne’s castle, like always. Jessa seemed to prefer it there, and it was hard not to take that personally. It wasn’t like there were many castles to choose from. We were each other’s mirror opposites. Her with blonde hair, bubbly demeanor, and penchant for pink, and me with my raven locks, reserved outlook, and love of more gothic attire.

“Well, they’ll be here for the party,” Mom said as she beamed to raise my spirits. “There are only a few days to wait now, and then we’ll have all the company we could ever want. You’ll probably find yourself craving the peace and solitude once they land. It’ll be overwhelming—you know that.”

I chuckled softly. “True. Very true.”

Everyone was coming to the party. Not just my siblings, but all the kings and queens, their children and grandchildren. It would be an enormous event, almost as big and lavish as a wedding. It was a party to celebrate three royal birthdays, after all.

The door suddenly banged open, and Dad marched into the dining room with a harried air about him. “I’m sorry I’m late,” he apologized, sitting down at the head of the table, a frown firmly in place on his usually smiling and handsome but aging visage.

“What’s happened, Dad?” I asked, my own expression dropping in empathy for my father. “What’s wrong?”

He straightened his jacket and sat up, shifting on his seat in annoyance, choosing not to answer immediately.

“Here, love,” Mom said, pouring Dad his morning coffee and shuffling a hearty portion of crispy bacon and perfectly poached eggs onto his plate. “Take a minute, then tell us what’s going on.”

I smirked at my mother’s demeanor as she slowly sat back down. Though she was reliable and set in her ways, she wasn’t normally the calm one between my parents. But with Dad looking to fly off the handle at any moment, she was engaging herultra soothingmode. She was calming his inner dragon. But what could have made my father so worried? It couldn’t be...

Oh, God...

“Nothing’s wrong with Jessa or any of the babies??” I demanded, my stomach lurching at the mere thought of something happening to any of my family, especially my new niece and nephews.

“Oh, no, it’s nothing like that,” he assured us both, reaching out to squeeze my arm in a comforting gesture, but said no more.

Mom and I waited as patiently as we could for my father to get himself together, the silence extending all around us. Was he angry? Hurt? Fearful? I couldn’t tell at this point, as his expression was unreadable. But he was still processing something, that was for sure. Whatever it was, it wasbig,and that triggered a deeply unsettling feeling in my gut.

I kept eating, knowing full well there was no rushing my father. He would speak when he was good and ready and not a moment before.

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