Ancient Desire Read online

  Table of Contents

  Content Warning

  Dedication

  Author’s Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more romance from Entangled… Pirate’s Protector

  Hunter’s Hope

  Magic Dark, Magic Divine

  Nightshade’s Bite

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2022 by N.J. Walters. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing

  644 Shrewsbury Commons Ave

  STE 181

  Shrewsbury, PA 17361

  [email protected]

  Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing.

  Edited by Alethea Spiridon

  Cover design by LJ Anderson/Mayhem Cover Creations

  Cover photography by 4x6 and liuzishan/Getty Images

  ISBN 978-1-64937-403-5

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition August 2022

  At Entangled, we want our readers to be well-informed. If you would like to know if this book contains any elements that might be of concern for you, please check the book’s webpage for details.

  https://entangledpublishing.com/books/ancient-desire

  For everyone who believes in the magic of dragons…and drakons. And for my readers who love the Forgotten Brotherhood and keep asking for more.

  Author’s Note

  The world is rich in mythology. Every culture in the history of time has left a legacy—written and unwritten—for those of us who came after. As a writer, I draw on those myths, legends, and beliefs and twist them to create something totally new. So, while you may recognize many familiar creatures, gods, or belief systems in this series, this world is something totally new. Expect the unexpected. It can, and will, happen. This is a work of fiction, as told to me by the characters portrayed within the pages.

  The Forgotten Brotherhood

  Maccus Fury sat up in bed, his sharp gaze tracking around the darkened room. No one had gotten past the protective wards covering every wall of his home. Morrigan, his woman, his reason for living, was asleep beside him, her rest unbroken.

  What had disturbed him? Had someone tried to break in? His lip curled at the thought. Not many would be stupid enough to try. He was the leader of the Forgotten Brotherhood—the most dangerous men in existence. They weren’t the monsters lurking under the bed. They were the ones who killed them.

  They were stone-cold assassins, men who had nothing left to lose, but they all lived by a code. Kill only those that truly deserved it and let their gods sort them out. Kill them before they killed you. Never, ever, betray a fellow assassin.

  An icy shiver snaked down his spine.

  Morrigan stirred beside him. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was sleepy, her green eyes filling with growing concern. “Is it Lucifer?”

  The leader of Hell had wreaked havoc with the Brotherhood before the threat had been nullified. “No. This is different.” He rolled his shoulders and lay back down beside her. “Whatever it is, I’ll deal with it when the time comes. Go back to sleep.”

  “But I’m not tired.” As she walked her fingers playfully up his chest, his body surged to life, a wave of lust and love filling him.

  “Neither am I.” But even as he kissed her, the echo of power vibrated inside him. Something or someone was waking.

  Trouble was coming.

  Chapter One

  “How much farther?” Raine Carson asked as she trudged over the uneven terrain, hands extended for balance and to catch herself if she fell. The ground was wet, making the dead leaves on the forest floor slippery.

  “Almost there.” Her guide had said the same thing every time she’d asked for the past two hours. She checked her watch. Over four hours had passed since she’d met the man and left her vehicle behind.

  “I didn’t realize it was so far off the beaten track.” Mack Evans ignored her and kept carving a path through the thick woods. The man was inexhaustible, even though he was older than her. Given the lines on his face and the strands of gray in his hair and beard, she put him somewhere between fifty and sixty. If he could keep up this pace, so could she.

  She was in decent shape, but teaching at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill hadn’t prepared her for this relentless trek. “Suck it up,” she muttered, even as the muscles in her legs quivered. She was dressed in layers of clothing, and the inner one was sticking to her skin.

  At least the scenery was gorgeous. The Great Smoky Mountains National Park was spectacular, even in early spring when many of the trees were still naked after the winter, their bare limbs reaching to the sky. The wind moaned as it twined around them. A thick, white, misty haze hung over the mountain in the distance. The birds were quiet, a heavy silence permeating the air. She shivered and quickened her pace as she lost sight of Mack’s red plaid jacket.

  “Don’t get freaked out,” she muttered to herself as she stepped over a downed log and took a deep breath to settle her nerves. “Just because this is like a scene from a horror movie, that’s no reason to let your imagination run wild.”

  That accusation had been leveled at her all throughout her childhood. She daydreamed too much, let her thoughts run to vivid fantasies. She gripped the straps of her backpack, gritted her teeth, and kept putting one foot in front of the other.

  “Just up here,” Mack called.

  “Finally.” Relief washed over her, the tension in her shoulders all but melting away. Even the trembling of her legs couldn’t stop the excited butterflies from fluttering in her stomach.

  The small clearing was a semicircle that surrounded a tall, thin gap in a rock face. “That’s the cave?”

  Mack grunted as he swung his pack off his back and leaned it against the rock face.

  “You’re sure it’s in there?”

  He gave a curt nod.

  Mack wasn’t much for conversation, but he was sharing his discovery with her, and for that, she’d forever be grateful. This could make her career.

  The sensible thing would be to set up camp, document the surroundings, and then venture into the cave. She swung her pack off one shoulder so she could dig out a flashlight. “How far back is the statue?”

  “Not far.” Mack crouched down and fiddled with the fastenings of his bag.

  The afternoon sky was darkening and the temperature dropping. “I’m taking a quick look inside.” Mack’s grunt could’ve been approval or disapproval—impossible to say. “I’ll help set up camp as soon as I’m back.”

  The flashlig
ht beam pierced the darkness of the cave. Taking a fortifying breath, she squeezed through the opening. Her pack scraped against the wall. She should leave it, but a sense of anticipation tethered her, pulling her forward. The stone beneath her feet crunched against the soles of her boots. She kept one hand pressed against the damp wall to help guide her as she ventured deeper.

  Her heart was pounding, as it often did before she made some significant discovery. A subtle vibration seemed to emanate from all around. A warning. Her mouth went dry, making swallowing difficult. “Just a bit farther.” She hadn’t come all this way to chicken out because of a spooky atmosphere.

  The path widened. A rock broke away from the wall and tumbled to the ground, the sound echoing all around her. She jumped, her breath catching in her throat before wild laughter bubbled up. “Just a falling rock caused by water and erosion.” Or maybe it was a critter. Oh God, was this a bear’s cave? The last thing she wanted was to disturb a sleeping black bear. It didn’t smell, so that was a good sign. At least she hoped it was. Bear habitat was outside her scope of knowledge.

  Raising the light, she traced the edges of the corridor. There was a turn ahead. “If I don’t find anything around there, I’ll go back.”

  Screwing up her courage, she rounded the corner. The world dropped away as she stumbled forward and fell to her knees. The stone statue had to be more than twenty feet long, maybe even twenty-five, and stood at least eight to ten feet high, even though the creature was lying down, the head and long tail curled around it.

  “A dragon.” There was reverence in her voice as she tentatively reached out. Swallowing heavily, she stroked her fingers over the cool, hard stone.

  The detail was exquisite, each scale incredibly defined. It would have taken years—maybe even a lifetime—to create something of this magnitude. The dedication it would’ve taken, the blood and sweat, to lovingly carve each groove and curve by hand was enormous. This had huge significance to whoever had made it.

  Why in a cave? Why wasn’t something this magnificent out in the open where everyone could have seen it and been awed? From what she’d studied about the native peoples who’d lived on the land, this didn’t seem to fit with any of their legends. Most dragon myths in North America were focused on water serpents. Maybe this was more in keeping with the Thunderbird legends—giant, almost prehistoric-like birds that hunted livestock and sometimes people.

  She raised the light higher, taking in every line, every muscle, every scale. “You’re gorgeous.” Raine pushed to her feet, a sense of wonder pulling her closer. The head was on the ground, tucked into the body. It was wedge-shaped and flat on the top with an elongated jaw. Like the body, the face was detailed. It was amazingly lifelike, exuding a sense of power even at rest.

  “You’re also going to make my career.” She was already imagining the book, the lecture tour. This was only the beginning.

  She ran her fingers over the long line of the dragon’s jaw. Why was its mouth closed and not open to expose the sharp teeth? It’d been done that way on purpose. And why sleeping and not in a more powerful pose? She had so many questions and no obvious answers.

  Excitement thrummed through her, a song that lifted her spirits. This was what she loved, what she lived for. Tracking down myths and legends was her life’s passion, but it was rare to find anything other than stories passed down through generations, maybe the legendary creatures depicted on clothing or pottery or small ceremonial pieces. This was substantial. This was real.

  “No one will believe me until they see you.”

  She frowned and leaned forward, shining the light on the dragon’s eye. There were no signs of tool marks, at least none she could see. Tucked away inside, the weather wouldn’t have worn the stone down. The lines were crisp and new, as if the sculptor had finished yesterday and walked away.

  Was this a hoax? But why would someone go to such trouble? It made no sense.

  Likely, she wasn’t seeing things properly. She needed more light. And maybe the sculptor was just that good. Archaeologists and historians tended to believe earlier peoples hadn’t had the skills of modern man. And while that was true in some cases, in others, they’d been far more advanced.

  “You’re going to be famous,” she told the dragon. There was so much to do. She had to make detailed notes, take pictures, and get accurate measurements. This guy was going to be the star of the book she was going to write.

  Caught up in the excitement, she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cool, hard cheek. The ground beneath her trembled and rolled, followed by a loud rumble. “What in the world?” The stone eye of the beast shattered and a pale pink one stared back at her.

  Her scream was drowned out by the explosion that rocked the world. She fell back, the flashlight slipping from her hand as she covered her head to protect herself from falling debris.

  …

  Lucius did his best to ignore the voice tugging him from sleep.

  He wanted to be left alone. Over the centuries, only a few had dared to violate his chosen resting spot. The “fuck off” vibe he emitted, even while sleeping, was usually enough to send them running.

  But not this person. This person dared touch him.

  Human. He inwardly curled his lip. He had little time for them. They were a violent species, always warring with those who were different, those they feared. Not all of them; he had to give them their due. He’d met some wise and welcoming men over the course of his long life, but they’d been few.

  The ground shook beneath him, followed by an explosion and a high-pitched woman’s scream that pierced his soul. His heart thumped hard against his chest. Still, he didn’t move. Dust filled the air as rocks tumbled to the ground around him. Several bounced off his back, more an annoyance than anything. If the entire mountain fell on him, it wouldn’t be enough to harm him.

  He strained to hear the woman, reaching out with his preternatural senses. Was she still alive? Sadness filled him, making him frown. Why would he care if she lived or died? She wasn’t his business.

  The resolve that had sent him into the Deep Sleep of his kind was rapidly burning away under the brunt of his curiosity. Another reason to ignore the intruder. He was done with this world.

  A deep cough was followed by another. Relief flooded him. Disgruntled over this unreasonable caring, he closed his eye, determined to go back to sleep. Her groan vibrated through his entire body. Was she hurt? Sleep, he reminded himself. Problem was, he was awake, and his innate inquisitiveness had kicked in, demanding answers.

  “You’re okay.” The voice was strained. Was she talking to him? Impossible. There was only one heartbeat. “You’re okay, Raine.”

  She was talking to herself, as she must have been earlier, since she was the only one trapped in here with him.

  “Was that an earthquake?”

  It wasn’t any natural phenomena that caused the cave-in. That he was sure of. As a drakon—the son of a dragon sire and a human woman—he had a measure of control over all the elements, even though his affinity was with the earth. Whatever had happened just now was man-made.

  A low grumble rolled out from him, causing the ground to shudder. The woman—no, Raine, as she’d called herself—gasped as several more rocks tumbled to the ground. The hitch in her voice, the stench of fear surrounding her, quieted him. For some unknown reason, he didn’t want to cause her harm.

  “That was nothing more than an aftershock. You can handle this,” she told herself. “The entire path can’t be caved in.” Boots scrambled over the floor, growing fainter. She was leaving.

  Fear, not relief, clutched his heart. Every muscle in his body clenched as he fought a growing need to go after her, to bring her back.

  Mine!

  The single word thrummed through his blood, pounded in his brain. No, she wasn’t his. He didn’t need or want a woman, especially a human. The ones he’d k
nown had either shunned him for what he was or welcomed him because he was a novelty, because they hoped for power or money through their association. That’s when they hadn’t been actively trying to kill him, which had been most of the time.

  “Hello?” Her pulse was racing, the thudding sound echoing in his ears. Her breathing was fast and shallow, edging on panic. “Mack? Are you there? Can you hear me?”

  Anger roared through him, hot and thick. Who was Mack?

  “Help!”

  “Ms. Carson?” The voice was faint, but unmistakably male.

  “Oh, thank God. There’s been a cave-in.”

  “I know.”

  Something in the man’s tone gave him pause.

  “Have you radioed the authorities?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?” Her voice was louder and strained. “Mack?”

  “Some things are better left buried. It would’ve been better for you if you’d died in the explosion. I’m sorry for that.”

  “You’re sorry? You’re sorry?” Her voice rose, getting more panic-stricken with each word. A rock struck the wall and bounced off. Had she thrown it? “Then why did you bring me here? I’d never have known about this place without you.”

  Now that was interesting. Was this about her at all or was it about him, a trap or test?

  “I had my orders.”

  “From whom? For God’s sake, from whom?” She was panting now, close to hyperventilating.

  “From God’s angel. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it has to be.”

  “Angel, what angel?” The man was obviously deranged. “Mack, don’t do this.” Silence greeted her. “Don’t leave me here. Mack!”

  His heart ached as her quiet sobs reached his sensitive ears.

  “I don’t understand,” she whispered between sobs. “Why would he do this?”

  She stumbled back into the inner chamber, the slender light source in her hand helping her find her way. He cracked his eye enough so he could watch her. She was leaning against the wall opposite him, her hand on it for support, her gaze on the tunnel that led to the blocked entrance. Dust and grit covered her. Dirt streaked her face, marred by the tracks of the tears trailing down her cheeks.