Dragon Marked (Supernatural Prison #1)

Braxton’s eyes darted around, keeping a close watch on the other inmates as we continued our circumvention of the mingling zone. “It’s only rumor, but allegedly any that are marked possess an ability to partially shift into a mist … like a dragon spirit. And they mimic many of the abilities I already possess. In a manner, the dragon king created an army of dragons who also possess the souls of our other races.”


No way! That was both scary and freaking awesome. I wondered if I’d have that power if Louis released my mark. I’d sort of be like Braxton then, not a real dragon but close. My heart ached for a moment and I had no idea why I was feeling like that. Seriously. Maybe it was a heart attack – nah, highly unlikely for a shifter who was only twenty-two.

I inhaled through my nose in one long movement. I think I had … well, a major case of the feels. Something had hit me hard in the heart and my emotions were overflowing.

“You okay, Jessa?” Braxton brought his face close to mine, tantalizing me with those masculine planes that had every woman in Stratford panting. As we locked eyes my hurting heart thumped extra hard and I had the strangest urge to kiss him.

What the hell?

I’d never felt like that before, he was my best friend. I would not ruin that with romance. It could never work, especially with any of the Compasses. They weren’t made for long-term, they were they first to admit that. I needed to pull myself together and get laid. It had been way too long for a shifter.

“Jessa?” he asked again, and I realized I hadn’t answered his question.

“Yes, I’m okay, just tired and hungry.”

He tilted his head to the side, calling me on my bullshit. But thankfully he let it go without more of a confrontation. We continued on our journey. It would take us at least thirty minutes to walk around the entire area.

“How long do we have out here?” I murmured, while squinting at a strange sight across the way. “And are we back in our cells after that?”

Braxton followed my eyes. “The schedule allows an hour in the morning for the shower area, four hours mingle time out here, and then back to our cells.”

“Are they having sex?” I blurted out.

We were both staring at the couple across from us. It was a fey female with long golden red hair and a lanky, black-haired vampire male. He had his fangs deep in her neck and the movements under his coat was pretty clear.

“That would be an affirmative.” Braxton turned away.

I stared for only a beat longer. “Do they not care what happens inside here?”

He laughed, harsh and grating. “As long as no one escapes, they don’t give a damn what goes on inside these walls. That’s why we have to be careful. If we are attacked, no one is going to come to our rescue.”

I wondered if that was true. I’d seen a few of the guards watching me closely. I knew Jonathon would have someone on the inside to keep an extra eye on our safety. I hoped anyways. I would die if anything happened to Braxton; it was my fault we were in here. As we rounded off the end of the tour we passed what looked like a stable, a round yard, and a jousting arena. Like I said, it was a large area. Finally we arrived in front of the buffet.

There was a line, so we stood on the end and waited patiently. No one lingered too close to anyone else, except for a few who were clearly friends. But I was starting to see Braxton’s definition of friend versus an alliance.

The man in front of me was quiet as he waited, but I could sense something very strong inside of him. And his profile was strangely familiar. He shifted his head in a slow-motion movement. There was nothing remotely normal about that creepy head spin.

Braxton nodded at him. “Vlad.”

Holy shut my face in the door. Vlad? As in Vlad the Impaler. I had no idea he’d been taken from Romania and placed into our prison. It did make sense, they always removed the celebrities from their local zone. Since his inability to keep himself under control – many years ago – had majorly outed the vampire legend, well, he was set to be locked up for a long time. His list of crimes was massive.

“Dragon.” He returned the greeting.

His blood red eyes flicked across to me. I fought the urge to shiver; he was like the mayor of creepy town, right down to the clichéd pale skin, black stringy hair and razor sharp pointed nails. But the part which cemented his status as Creepy McCreep was the eyes for sure.

“And who is this delicious little morsel?”

I fought the urge to barf in my mouth. It was either that or punch him in the skeletal protrusion that he was working as a nose.

“None of your fucking business,” I said, curling my lips. The movement was involuntary.

Braxton tightened his grip on my hand, but otherwise didn’t show any signs of concern.

“Everything in here is my business, little girl. I run Vanguard.”

I flicked my ponytail behind me and let out a sigh. “I’m pretty hungry. Can we just move this interrogation along?”

The smallest of smiles lifted the corner of his mouth. “I like you. I think I won’t kill you for a while. Although…” He breathed deeply. “The scent of your blood … very tempting.”

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