Page 1 of Witch's Bells and Mistletoe

Prologue

ADEON

TWO YEARS EARLIER

I peer up at the coven house, my brow lowering into a scowl. This can’t be the place. Granted, I’ve been asleep for a time after I fled my homeland once the adventure of traveling wore off, and I’ve seen some sights of the years since awakening, but nothing prepared me for the reality of finding myself standing in front of a coven house.

This is where my ancestral treasure has been hidden? I can hardly credit it. Aside from the veil of magic that clearly hangs over the place, it doesn’t have the look of an occult den where objects of formidable power would be secreted away. I’ve been in my fair share of dark holes protected by layers of human magery to know the difference. There is no stench of heavily woven magic here. Instead, there is a bloom of magic to this place which is quite captivating, and a certain charm to it. One that suggests at any moment a passel of apple-cheeked children might run out laughing with their mother trailing after them as they frolic in the snow. The icy elegance of the garden peeks around the edge of the house, the frosted vines curling in a way that invites me to find a cozy spot and nest here.

I snort at my fanciful imagination and shake my head before running a hand carefully among my red locks to make sure that my horns haven’t begun protruding again. Holding onto a wholly human form is a struggle, but I don’t wish to frighten the locals, which means keeping myself in check at all times. Humans prefer things that look…well, human. And I haven’t a clue how long this treasure will take to locate. I aim to not leave here without it. I can’t. To not recover the treasure would mean never finding a mate. The treasure is the promise of life for a dragon clan.

Every dragon family has only one. One jewel that serves every dragon in the clan who calls upon its aid and holds it between their claws in petition to find their mate. The great dame of my line, Aegalthea held it for generations. Sadly, I wasn’t made aware of her passing. It wasn’t until recently when I made the journey to her den to make my case to find a mate—and not for the first time since she denied my last request four hundred years ago—that I learned of her death, and the looting of the clan hoard two centuries prior. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought that she hid the treasure herself just to watch me squirm—except she isn’t here to enjoy it. Nothing remains of her or the treasure but a trail of rumors to guide me from one spot to another before finally bringing me here.

I blink the snow from my eyelashes as I survey the house. From here I can tell that there are all manner of decorations hung to celebrate the season. It brings a certain warmth of happiness to lodge within my chest—one I don’t wish to feel if this is a den of thieves and dragon slayers. Still, it is hard to dismiss a bit of cheer, and I don’t have to force the smile that comes to my lips as I set out down the walk. If there is a bounce in my step, it is to be expected. Perhaps I will find my treasure in short order and prevail upon the coven to share some of their bounty. That would be a blessing.

Rumbling happily to myself, I knock on the door, my imagination conjuring images of the elderly head of the coven home who will greet me. I’m nearly bowled over by the sight of the woman who greets me. She is tall and possesses an elegantly cut figure plump with curves in all the right places and a queenly bearing. There is no hint of the delicate bloom of youth on her cheeks, which suits me all the better. This is a mature female, full in her power and delectable flavors. I breathe in her ripe scent as brown eyes bearing a hint of amber in their warm depths look me over. I look my fill too, not requiring an invitation to return the favor.

She is comely indeed. Her blonde hair is piled on her head like a crown, and the blouse and skirt combo hug her figure so perfectly that it begs to be stripped off and reveal the secrets beneath it longing to be plundered. She is such a fine female that she nearly distracts me from the reason that brings me here.

I’m reminded of it abruptly when she lifts an arched eyebrow and a voice like honey-whisky fills my ears with her polite, yet sharp, words.

“Can I help you? This is private property, as the sign down by the road indicated, and I’m afraid that we are in the midst of a very private family celebration. Whatever you are here for, speak up so you can be on your way.”

I blink at her, a dangerous smile slowly curling my lips. “I’m here for my treasure, and I’m not leaving here without it.”

Naturally, I’m met with laughter until the moment she realizes just how stubborn a dragon can be. I quite savor her furious scream when I reveal the hint of my true nature. She hopes to scare me away with the force of her magic that flows through her with her shriek, but a fire dragon is made of sterner stuff. All the same, my victory feels no closer when she finally leads me to a room that I may den in while I search for the elusive treasure she swears is not there.

It must be here. I can practically taste its power wound within the magic there, even if I cannot locate its position. I will find it eventually. Until then, I will amuse myself with the company of the female and her coven that are now under my protection while I occupy this dwelling. It is no great hardship to offer them such a gift, though the lovely Katherine dismisses it as such, claiming that my protection is more welcome or necessary than my presence.

It would seem that she wishes to thwart my efforts. It doesn’t matter—a patient dragon always gets all that he desires.

Chapter 1

KATHERINE

No one ever said that being the head of a coven is an easy job. A coven is more than just witches gathering—it’s family, which means my responsibilities are innumerable to make sure everything is running smoothly and my “children” are safe from any threats that may step into our world. It’s also why I’ve desperately needed a vacation for years.

Normally I would never think of being away during the holy days of the Winter Solstice, but my dear, sweet child Fran is a bit of a bear when she gets into a mood, and pregnancy has not softened her disposition in that regard in the least. I’m not entirely sure how she’s managed to keep it a secret from the vampire she married. Reynard must be oblivious, but then most men are in my experience.

Fran insists that I need to “get away.” Whatever that means. I’ve been occupied with coven business since I was left to lead the coven in my youth. There has never been time for anything other than work. Just how far should I be going and what exactly should I be doing? According to her, I just need to go and get my mind off the business that comes with running a coven. She doesn’t care about my conundrum of exactly how I should vacation—which is quite vexing since I don’t recall taking a real vacation before and am not entirely sure how it’s done—she just wants me out of the coven house.

I suspect it is because she wishes for a bit of peace herself. Apparently I am demanding and meddlesome. I don’t know what she’s complaining about. If I hadn’t made sure she did her duty to the coven—I only really demand four times a year that she make an appearance as my heir—then she would still be alone in her cabin. I believe that at very least warrants thanks, not being chased out of town as if she is possessed by a witch hunter.

That said, I’m trying to take this concept of a vacation a little more seriously. I considered a cruise, but who knew that it would be so difficult to find a decent cabin at the last minute on one of the popular liners? Naturally, I filed that bit of information away for another time and settled for a cozy resort in the mountains, The Grand Williams Hotel and Ski Resort.

It is quite picturesque, I must admit. I take a sip of my coffee and sigh happily as I watch the snow fall on the other side of the hotel’s large windows. There is a subtle wink of festive lights that reflects off the window, but it doesn’t detract from the experience. It is beautiful and uninterrupted with any manner of chaos requiring immediate attention. I can somewhat understand why Fran enjoys escaping into her woods to hide from the rest of the world. If it’s a bit too quiet and lonely, I don’t focus on that little detail. This is my vacation. I just need to focus on spoiling myself. I honestly don’t remember the last time I’ve done anything for the pleasure of it. Self-care is something I’m always preaching to my family, so it’s about time I get started on it myself.

Best of all I don’t have Adeon hovering over me with a critical eye and scowling protectively over me. I half-expect to turn around and find him standing behind me, huffing and puffing over every little thing or any time I lift a finger to do something he disapproves of. Admittedly part of me really enjoys it, but I’m also not a fool. Adeon is simply amusing himself with being a nuisance while he searches the house and property for his treasure, but never goes any further. He never actually expresses interest in a bed partner, nor does he try to initiate a more intimate connection. He is all broody flirtation and possessiveness to the point where sometimes causes a little confusion as to his intention. I manage to keep perspective and keep my distance from the dragon, however, because I’m fully aware that his protectiveness and apparent possessiveness is largely a territorial behavior attached to being able to protect the hiding place of his jewel while he searches for it.

Truthfully, being able to escape Adeon’s mixed signals is nearly worth this vacation—even if part of me does miss him just a little. It would almost be nice if he just unexpectedly decided to show up.

I laugh quietly at the thought as my eyes skim the room with amusement. That isn’t likely to happen. Adeon would be absolutely miserable here. Fran calls me a busybody, but there are times he is worse—which makes my job easier since he seems to take a special delight in informing me of everything going on within the coven house. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the male simply sit down with the intention of resting. If he were here, the archaic grump would no doubt be scowling at all the frivolous and excessive décor. Especially the considerable amount of mistletoe hanging everywhere. As if there is anything wrong with perfectly healthy adults finding any opportunity at all to kiss.

What I really need for this vacation is someone to kiss under the mistletoe. To wipe away all thoughts of a particular dragon that I’ve become unhealthily obsessed with.

A tiny pang fills my chest at the thought, but I know it’s the right decision. This is why I’ve never allowed myself to become attached to men. I simply need to occupy myself with a lover for the next couple of weeks to remind myself of how much better it is to embrace pleasure wherever I find it and set everything back into place. Still, I feel a wistful smile tug at my lips as my gaze returns to the scenic view. It truly is idyllic. Peaceful. Achingly romantic. I push the last thought aside and focus on enjoying the scenery.

This is exactly what I needed. There is absolutely nothing that requires my attention except watching the snow fall. My foot begins to bounce as my eyes restlessly stray once more from the scenery to make another sweep of the first-floor of the hotel. I fight back the sigh that rises in the back of my throat. I am not bored. I refuse to be. Enjoying the peace and quiet is a wonderful way to unwind. I catch myself drumming my fingers on the side of my mug.

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