Healing a broken dragon, p.1
Healing a Broken Dragon,
p.1

Cursed Dragons 4
Healing a Broken Dragon
Miles was never a tough guy, and when the dragons attacked his coven, he did everything he could to protect the kids under his care.
Until the meanest looking dragon kidnaps him right out of his coven. Miles is so terrified he can't even bring himself to cast a simple spell.
But part of him knows Renford won't drop him, because this is his mate.
Renford has been cast out of his clan. His most trusted ally mated with the enemy, and he, admittedly, went a little crazy. The attack on Miles' coven might be pinned on him, but he couldn't leave the other man there to be killed.
He hates warlocks, but he cannot ignore the pull between him and Miles. He wants his mate. He wants to protect him.
But when Miles finds out what Renford is guilty of, he can't blame the other man for wanting to leave.
Genres: Alternative (M/M, Gay), Contemporary, Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Shape-shifter
Length: 25,899
HEALING A BROKEN DRAGON
Cursed Dragons 4
Marcy Jacks

Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
Healing a Broken Dragon
Copyright © 2019 by Marcy Jacks
ISBN: 978-1-64243-825-3
First Publication: May 2019
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2019 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
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PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Marcy Jacks lives and works in Ontario, Canada. She loves writing, reading, and playing video games. You can find more of her books at marcyjacks.com
For all titles by Marcy Jacks, please visit
www.bookstrand.com/marcy-jacks
TABLE OF CONTENTS
HEALING A BROKEN DRAGON
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
HEALING A BROKEN DRAGON
Cursed Dragons 4
MARCY JACKS
Copyright © 2019
Chapter One
The cleanup was always the worst part of any fight.
Especially when it was the blood of his friends that needed cleaning up.
The fight had been on their territory, and Miles did his absolute best to keep the kids away from the windows even after the dragons had been scared away.
They cried for their parents, all snot-nosed and wet in the face, and he couldn't even be grossed out by it because, on the inside, he felt exactly the same way.
But he was in charge of their care. He needed to keep them under control.
“It's all right, kids. The bad lizards are gone. Everything's going to be all right.”
He couldn't make himself believe it. He'd heard the screaming out there.
It had been a total sneak attack. The sort of chicken-shit move he would expect from the enemy.
But they were supposed to be at peace with the dragons. So what the hell happened?
“C-can I see my…my daddy?” Robby asked. He was only six, and if his stuffed Pikachu had been alive, he would have strangled it with how tightly he clutched it.
“Not yet, kiddo. It’s nearly done.”
Miles wasn't sure how much he believed that. He didn't want to make any specific promises just in case it was his daddy who was one of the ones bleeding out after the fight.
Not that such a thing would do much good to a child. Even the smallest of hints would make Robby believe he'd been promised.
Oddly enough, the crying and wailing hadn't started up until after the dragons had been chased away from the coven.
The warlocks did their duty, they fought and defended their land from the invading dragons, and the kids had gone into the little cubbies where they'd kept their shoes and hid quietly.
When it was over, that was when the little freak-out happened.
Molly, his sister, had her hands full trying to distract the kids. She'd asked the older boys and girls to help her, and they were currently trying to distract the kids with their phones and video games.
Pirates of the Caribbean had been out back on the projector, but no one watched it.
Miles looked out the window. Anyone not walking with a limp or a busted head was helping those who did. Witches and warlocks gathered around those who were the most badly injured, their hands glowing as they tried to cast healing spells that would keep their friends alive long enough for natural healing to take over.
Miles clenched his hands into fists.
He hated this. He wished to God he'd been strong enough that he could do something. That he'd been brave enough to fight.
He wished he'd joined the warrior class instead of sticking out here with the kids and domestic duties like his mom had asked him.
Molly was too busy with the rest of the kids to notice his struggle, but as the attack had been going down, just outside of their community center, making the walls tremble and the floor beneath them vibrate, he couldn't help but be angry at himself for hiding in here with the kids.
If a dragon had opened up the roof and breathed fire down on them, would he have been strong enough to stop it?
Could he have saved his sister and these kids?
He wished he'd studied defensive magick. God, he'd never wished for it more than he did right now.
And it was all those fucking dragons’ fault.
They'd promised peace. That asshole dragon who'd kidnapped Arty had shown up with a few of his friends and…
He'd hoped this would end better than it did. That was all.
That one dragon, older, with a scarred face and neck…
Miles wasn't sure why he was thinking about him right now. He was probably one of the dickheads who had a hand in this.
“Miles?”
He snapped out of it and then felt guilty for letting his mind wander when there was shit to do.
“Sorry, yeah, what do you need?”
“Rosy isn't feeling so good. Do you think you could hold down the fort here while I take her to the bathroom?”
She already looked as though she'd peed herself. “Yeah, whatever you need. We're all good here.”
Molly pulled Rosy into her arms, seemingly not noticing, or caring about the pee. “We won't be more than five minutes.”
Which meant Miles was to go and find them if they were.
He nodded, watching his sister go.
If only to give the kids something to do, Miles grabbed the crayons and papers, and he had all the kids, even the bigger ones, sit down at the tables. The tables that still had their legs attached, and he asked them to write thank-you letters to the warrior warlocks who had not only kept them safe, but who were also healing and caring for the scraped knees and stubbed toes the warriors had to deal with after the fact.
The older kids knew it was bullshit, but Miles didn't want the younger ones to believe there might be injuries that were more monumental than they were.
It seemed to work. Things quieted down with the exception of the occasional sniffle.
After fifteen minutes and Molly still was not back, Miles couldn't give himself anymore excuses to not go after her.
He wanted to give her the time she needed and didn't want to assume that anything was wrong, especially when it could freak out the kids even more.
He couldn't wait anymore. At this point, every second that ticked by only made him more paranoid.
"Kids, I'm just going to step outside for a quick second, and I'll be right back. Mark, you're in charge, all right?”
Mark looked at him with big brown eyes, like a deer stuck in the headlights of the giant eighteen-wheeler that was about to ram him.
“All right," he said quietly.
Poor kid. But he was fifteen and one of the more mature kids in the group. Miles was pretty sure that the kid could handle it for at least five minutes by himself.
He'd better be only five minutes.
Miles left quickly but without running, again, not wanting to scare the kids into thinking there was another emergency.
He focused on the magick inside him instead, summoning it forward. Protection spells, for him, for the kids, and for his sister.
They weren't the strongest things in the world. Protection spells were considered little more than good luck charms, and were entirely different from the shielding spells the warriors were taught how to
“Molly? Hey Molly?” he called, not wanting to yell.
Miles knocked on the girls' bathroom door before cracking it open and calling for her again. When he got no answer the second time, he got worried.
“Where the frick did you go?”
If she was all right, if there was nothing to be worried about after she had left him waiting all that time, he was going to murder her himself. Throw her to the dragons and everything, because screw it.
Miles went looking again, powerwalking deeper into the community center. He checked the gym, the arts and crafts room, and then made a stop into the kitchen.
Summoning the magick within himself, Miles created a little ball of energy. Something small, glowing, and warm. Its purpose was like the detective's powder from an old noir movie.
Cupping his little energy ball in his hands, Miles blew on it is if he were blowing a kiss.
The energy spread out like dandelion fluff, landing gently on the floor, the countertop, and the walls. When it landed, it no longer glowed, but it made something else glow that was much more helpful.
He could tell those were his sister’s footsteps because he knew she had a pair of shoes with a giant flower on each of the soles.
The smaller footsteps had to belong to the little girl Molly had taken with her. Had she brought the girl here for a snack after cleaning her up?
Molly was like that sometimes. It really pissed off the parents, but whenever there was a problem, hurt feelings, or a stubbed toe that made them cry, Molly always thought it was appropriate to give chocolate or cookies, or some other form of sweets to the kids to cheer them up.
She’d clearly done as much right now, but that wasn't what worried him.
The spell Miles had just used was only meant to show the most recent of footsteps. If it had been the sort of spell designed to show everyone who walked through here, there would be so much glowing on the floor that he would never be able to tell who was who, when they had come, or when they had gone.
Basically, it was the sort of spell designed for paranoid parents to keep an eye on their little kids.
So of course, working in the space, Miles was expected to know how to cast it.
There was a third pair of footsteps. Not even wearing shoes, but those were bare feet. He could make out the toes and everything. And they were big feet. This was a fully grown man.
A chill rippled down Miles’s spine.
Someone had come into the community center. Maybe during the attack? Or had he come in after?
Miles's heart tried to slam its way out of his chest, even as he tried to think of every possible reason why those footsteps could be there.
They could be the footsteps of one of the warriors who protected the coven.
But why would they be in their bare feet?
Whatever, it didn't matter. This was his sister he was thinking about. And she had one of the kids with her that he was responsible for.
Summoning the only offensive spell he knew, a simple fire spell, Miles held the little ball of fire in his hand, feeling the heat of it without it burning him, and he started walking.
He would find them.
All he had to do was follow their footsteps before they vanished. It didn't seem to be a problem, except for when he realized they were leading to the back door.
“Fuck.”
This had better be a sick joke. This had better be the worst kind of joke in the world. Honestly, there was no way he and his sister had that kind of luck.
Still, he followed the footsteps out the back door. All the while he still reminded himself that the warriors defending their coven had chased off the dragons. The fighting should be over. How could anyone have missed one of the dragons? Even in the chaos of the battle, and even with their shifting abilities, there should be no way that the dragon would still be around here.
Right?
“Molly? Hey, Molly if you are out here there's something I need you to help me with back inside.”
On the off chance that there was nobody out here, or that somebody was even hiding and waiting to spring, Miles thought it was the better idea to not give it away that he knew there was some barefooted guy out here who might have taken his sister hostage.
At least this way he could have the element of surprise.
The slap of a hard, heavy hand on his shoulder and another hand over his mouth snatched away the idea that he would ever get the jump on anybody really quick.
Panic. Animalistic and blind panic. Miles couldn't think, couldn't see, or even breathe for a few seconds as he threw back his elbows, kicked and struggled, and even tried to smash a fireball into the head of whoever was behind him.
Whoever it was, was big, definitely taller than Miles was, and he was powerful as fuck. The man had taken Miles right off of his feet, and no matter how much he struggled, how many fireballs he threw back at the man, he just was not letting go.
Heated lips nearly touched his ear, and warm breath ghosted down the side of his neck.
“You shouldn't be doing that right now. Not a good time.”
Miles stopped.
That voice. He knew that voice, even though he'd only ever heard it once before in his life, and only for a few small words.
This was definitely a dragon. Worse, it was one of Keagan's men.
It was Renford. His mate.
Chapter Two
Miles didn't move. His body was frozen. He could hardly breathe.
“Wh-what are you doing here?”
And what happened to his sister?
Renford's hand, strong and calloused, slid up his arm in around his throat. There was no threat in it. It felt more as of the other man just wanted to touch him. It was enough to make Miles shiver.
Oh God, he really didn't want to be having a reaction to this right now. His heart pounded, and the adrenaline was getting to him.
“The girls are fine. I'm more concerned about you.”
Miles blinked, his brain still focusing too much on the hand that touched him. The heat that wafted from it. “Me?”
Renford growled, and Miles didn't know what to make of that.
And why the hell was he letting himself believe anything this guy had to say anyway?
"Where is my sister? Where is the little girl she was with?”
Radford was silent for a moment, or was it only a few seconds? It was hard to tell when Miles was so hyped up on energy that it was a struggle not to bounce right off the floor.
And that hand held loosely around his throat. God, it almost felt as if Renford were touching his cock instead of his throat.
Don't get hard. Don't get hard. Don't get hard.
“They're all right. I knocked out the girl. The older one.”
“You hit my sister?”
Miles tried to turn around and run for his arms, wanting to see him, and maybe punch the bastard in the face for that one, regardless of what his dick wanted.
But Renford wouldn't allow it. The man's grip tightened on him, and now it wasn't dangerously sexy that Miles was being held on to like this. No, now it was just annoying.
And a little scary.
“Don't move. Don't make a sound.”
“Fuck you! If you hurt my sister, I'll fucking kill you, and I don't care what I…”
Miles stopped himself before he could finish that sentence. He didn't even know how he would finish it. The only thing he did know was that it would humiliate him to say whatever it was he was about to say. So it was best to say nothing at all.
“I didn't hurt her. I just came up behind her and gave her a good whack across the back of the head. She went down quick, she didn't even know I was there, and she's going to be all right.”
Renford sounded annoyed to have to say that at all, but that didn't mean Miles was about to let him off the hook.
“Why hit her at all? What's your fucking problem?”
It wasn't exactly how Miles had fantasized about coming into contact with Renford again. Now that the man was here, his hands on Miles's body, all Miles could think about was that his sister had been attacked.
