Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 45585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 228(@200wpm)___ 182(@250wpm)___ 152(@300wpm)
Upon their arrival, the battered and weary settlers encountered the inhabitants of the mountains surrounding this blessed valley. Fierce, terrifying creatures whose flame could devour beasts and trespassers. Ten fearless men created a treaty with the Draken. For while the settlers needed a safe place to survive and prosper, the original inhabitants of the surrounding mountains required something else.
The descendants of the ancient families of these men vowed their support in exchange for the beasts’ protection of the town. Their sacrifice provided a fated mate for those who guard the town from their mountain vigils. Those selected are honored and their names celebrated for all time.
A shiver went down Aurora’s spine as the familiar view of the mountains ringing the valley where the city of Wyvern had stood for centuries flashed into her mind. She turned to ask her grandmother a question, but the gray-haired woman simply shook her head and nodded at the book.
A match is complete when an outline of a dragon appears on the back of an individual’s hand after touching his or her potential mate. To ensure the Wyvern finds his mate, all unmated residents in their majority will appear before a Draken following the death of his previous mate to submit to his touch.
Following the matching, the Wyvern pledges to provide shelter and sustenance for his mate and to return her body to her family at the end of her life for burial in her family’s crypt.
A brief flash of the cemetery burst into her memory. No one had been buried there for as long as she remembered. Aurora forced herself to focus on the tome in front of her. The rest that followed were the regulations on who would be considered eligible mates and other bits of information. Aurora skimmed over these. Who cared about ancient mating rights? She finished and looked up at her grandmother.
“Isn’t all this old lore so interesting. Thank goodness none of this malarky still is in effect,” Aurora said with a laugh. “Like dragons are real and they need the women from our town as mates.”
Her grandmother brought two steaming cups of fragrant tea to the table and used the folds of her full skirt to gently push the book away as if it were so precious that touching it was forbidden.
“Drink, Aurora. Settle your stomach.”
“I do feel better now. I don’t know what caused that. Dad just brushed his fingertip over my hand.” Aurora held her hand out as she talked.
“Dad said to have you look at it. I don’t suppose this old dusty book has a magic cure for this in there?” she asked.
“Look at your hand, Aurora. It’s faint but darkening,” her grandmother observed.
“There were some bumps there before…” Aurora focused on her skin and froze. It was as if someone had sketched lightly on her hand. “That’s funny. It looks like a…”
“Dragon,” her grandmother finished for her. “Drink your tea.”
Blindly obeying, Aurora picked up her teacup with her left hand. She carefully took several sips of the hot liquid as she stared in fascination at the pattern. There was a triangular-shaped head, two wings, a body, and a tail. “It’s a dragon?”
Her gaze zipped back to the book, and she reread that passage aloud.
A match is complete when an outline of a dragon appears on the back of an individual’s hand after touching his or her potential mate.
“He held my hand in his. I felt something searing my skin and then all sorts of sensations. This has to be a joke. Maybe I was hypnotized? His eyes did this funny light flash thing.”
“Describe him for me.”
“He was tall with black hair and a beard. His eyes were blue, but flashed gold. There was some silver in his beard. I guess I’d say he was in his forties. Handsome. Not friendly. He scared me.”
“Gold? That would be Drake, the eldest of the Draken,” her grandmother predicted, looking remarkably pleased.
“Why are you happy? This guy comes out of nowhere, somehow tattoos this thing on my hand, and now I’m sick?” Aurora babbled. She knew she wasn’t connecting the dots here. She didn’t want to understand what her grandmother was telling her.
“Aurora. It’s okay. This is a great honor.”
Pulling her thoughts together, Aurora took another drink of her tea. She set the delicate teacup down with a soft clink before looking directly at her grandmother’s concerned face. “Tell me the bottom line here, Grandma. Is there any escaping this mark? I feel pulled toward something I don’t understand.”
“Let me show you something. I think it will help.”
Her grandmother stood and disappeared. When she returned, she held a tattered album. Opening the first page, she pointed to an old, faded photograph of a beautiful young woman. “This is your great-great-great-aunt. So, my grandmother’s sister. Her name was Isabella. At the time of this photo, she was fifty years old.”