Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
The Dragon’s Pretend Marriage Chapter 1

Milton

If this girl went on any longer, I was going to lose my appetite.

That simple fact was all I could think about while my attention drifted to my surroundings. A white tablecloth decorated each table in the vicinity. Rich violet wallpaper hosted a medley of swirling shapes that could have been vines or whips-it wasn't clear to me. And it didn't matter either. I just wanted to get the hell out of here.

Glassware clinked and caught my attention. The girl across from me-Rita might have been her name-gave me a pearly grin while batting her eyelashes.

"You haven't heard a word I've said, have you, sugar?"

Her country accent rivaled her perfectly crisp autumn-orange tan, her glowing green eyes, her bleached blonde hair. Nothing about her appearance made me feel any sort of affection. Not even a wiggle from the antenna downstairs. She was just another typical date.

I sighed while lifting my glass of whiskey. "Nope."

She blinked rapidly. This time, it was less flirtatious and more from surprise. "Really?"

"You think my parents put us on this date to hook us up or something?" I snorted once from amusement when her expression twisted with indignance. "Don't give me that face, darling. You and every other chick I've dated this week have been after my fortune." "That's not true!" She slapped the table with her periwinkle-colored clutch. "I accepted this invitation because I care about you and your parents."

I swirled the amber liquid in my glass. "How much did they pay you just to show up?"

Her expression shifted again. Remorse. Maybe even shame. She was doing such a poor job of keeping my attention. I had to liven things up by poking a hole in her reality.

Letting her know that she wasn't about to get the dragon and the treasure he hoarded.

No matter how many times she pressed her tits together.

"My mother probably told you to wear that dress, too," I commented. My eyes fell on her hourglass figure. She was stunning. But she wasn't my type. "That shade of blue is irresistible, but it doesn't suit you." "How dare you!"

I stood up, knocking my chair over loudly enough to invite the attention of every patron in the vicinity. The violinist on the stage in the far corner of the room squeaked slightly at the commotion. But everyone else remained perfectly still. "How dare you try to fool me into thinking that you care about me and my family," I chided. "How dare you show up wearing that cheap knockoff Gucci and those low pumps." I peeked beneath the table. "They don't even match, Rita." "My name is Ren."

My eyes rolled. "What an impression you've made. Tell my parents to pay you the rest of the sum they promised since they're so intent on making me unhappy."

"Wait a minute. Where are you going?" She was standing now with her palms on the table and her curly hair falling over her shoulders. She was conventionally attractive in a lot of ways, a suitable model.

However gorgeous, that didn't make her a suitable mate.

After plucking the appropriate amount of bills for the check plus a tip for both the waiter and the violinist struggling to keep the attention of those now heatedly watching my performance, I bowed my head to Rita-or Ren. Or whatever her name was.

"Listen, it's nothing personal," I claimed. "I'm just not keen on being hoodwinked." I grabbed an extra bill from my wallet and handed it to her. "Get yourself an actual Gucci dress from Posh just around the corner. Vivian knows me by name. Just go ahead and drop it." The woman inspected the bill in her hand, a rouge plumping her cheeks a bit as she sniffled. "You didn't have to be so rude."

"And you didn't have to be so obnoxious."

One steely sweep of my eyes around the room forced everyone watching to return to their meals. The dragon had spoken. The show was over.

But surely someone had caught it on camera.

The beast hiding in the caves of my soul huffed as I headed toward the rear entrance. Shiny cameras are out front. Why aren't we heading in that direction?

Because I wanted some privacy.

Because my parents didn't want privacy.

Because it was just too much to handle right this second.

A sigh and a shuffle pushed me through the kitchen and into the abandoned alley. My limo pulled up shortly, tailed by a news van. There were some things I simply couldn't avoid, wasn't that right?

As soon as I hopped into the back, I knocked on the privacy window. It rolled down within a split second.

"Take me to a club," I ordered. "Just a regular club. I don't care where."

The driver nodded and rolled the window back up. Silence wound around my body, providing me a break from the penetrative energy just outside the car. Once the limo reached the mouth of the alley, flashes of light surrounded the vehicle and a murmur of voices exploded just beyond the heavily tinted glass.

Attention was nice every so often.

But tonight? I just wanted to be a regular guy. My parents were opposed to such a thing, impressing upon me the importance of stepping into my skin as a billionaire. The lavish way I lived was more than welcome. But the attention was aggravating. Did I want to be celebrated? Wanted? Interviewed?

Yes, I wanted all those things and more. I was a dragon, after all, and everyone knew that dragons were lured by shiny objects. I was like a cat chasing a ball of yarn.

But there were moments when I wanted to curl around my shiny objects and just take a damn nap. Couldn't a dragon want that, too? Couldn't a bachelor just be a bachelor?

My eyes rolled again.

According to my mother, no, I thought. But then again, I'm not the one running the company. So I can't just do what I want. Yet.

I gave myself a few more minutes to feel sorry for myself. It may have been in poor taste to be a total jerk to a lady in public, but it was pretty par for the course with me. Didn't my parents want me to act like myself?

Another sigh escaped me. Once I shed the suit, I yanked on a pair of designer jeans with a slightly sheer black shirt that clung to my muscular physique. A little toss of the hair with some gel had the red strands looking like fiery lava. Hints of black sprouted throughout, giving it depth.

The limo slowed in front of a club. I tapped the window and informed the driver to take me through the alley. If anyone spotted me coming out of a limo, I wouldn't hear the end of it. I just wanted to be average for a night. A drink, a dance, maybe even a hookup- things most shifters are able to do without having to be in the spotlight about it.

One night, I thought as I stepped into another wet alleyway. I slammed the door shut. That's all I ask.

***

Human bars are all the same. Every bartender is wearing a torn-up shirt and jeans. The counters are wet despite being wiped constantly and the floor is usually sticky, too.

It was the way of the world. And I was a willing participant in what made human engagements so appealing. Earthly shades poured from my skin yet glistened slightly as if starlight followed me everywhere. And with that came a group of women-and sometimes men, and sometimes other genders-hounding me wherever I went.

It was all part of the dragon charm.

Even now, with the way I carried myself to the bar exuding as much of a don't fuck with me vibe as possible, I had three women tailing the path I left on the dance floor. Walking through the back had meant getting some heat from the bouncers. But that also meant I could bribe them, too.

One of the chicks had probably seen me flash a bill or something.

My boots stuck slightly with every step, that resonant stickiness reminding me of every place I had ever been that was reportedly normal yet crawling with all sorts of creatures. This crowd wasn't entirely human. I could tell by the supernatural energy fluttering through the air.

A mixture of scents tickled my nose-fae, bird, wolf. There were plenty of shifters in the area. The humans were simply unaware of our presence.

Not that they were entirely unaware that we existed. They just didn't have the ability to sense our presence. Not like us. Any time we revealed our true nature to humans, we were generally accepted.

Generally.

Until we weren't.

And even then, we could just spell the poor soul from ever being able to perceive us again.

I sighed as I leaned against the bar. More scents roused my attention, causing me to peer down the long line of people who were all looking in my direction.

Save for the one at the end of the bar.

One who looked all too familiar.

A smirk crooked my lips. About a dozen hearts in the vicinity picked up a new beat as I marched confidently past each pair of prying eyes. Call me vain. I didn't care. I just wanted to show off a little bit while approaching an old friend. More than an old friend, really.

She was my best friend's little sister.

And I wanted to know why she was hanging out in a bar by herself.

Bright green eyes were flecked with silver like they'd been dyed with moonlight, and glistened with the kind of curiosity afforded to scientists as she glanced around. Her curvy figure of smooth skin speckled with copper freckles was sporting a tie-dye rusty-red cropped tank top and low-rise black skinny jeans. Part of a colorful tattooed octopus sprawled over her right hip, climbing her side.

She hadn't noticed me yet. Or if she had, she didn't care. She was acting aloof, but I knew her brother well enough to understand that it was just part of her performance. Sniders were sharp creatures, talented wolves who were receptive to just about everything. Except for the charm of dragons. That never quite worked on the Sniders.

I knew because their mother wasn't fond of me.

The moment I slid into the empty space at the bar, a glass of whiskey appeared in front of me. The Snider wolf turned, squinting slightly up at me from beneath a cloud of ash-brown hair highlighted with blonde and decorated with bright flowers. A collection of silver chains hung around her neck, dipping into her cleavage.

Well, that wasn't something I needed to notice. But I couldn't control it either.

"Milton," she greeted while raising her beer. "Didn't expect to see you here." She peeked over my shoulder. "Looks like a lot of those people are disappointed you came up to me."

I lifted the glass of whiskey. "Brandi, you look ravishing tonight." I winked. "How's Tanner doing?"

"He's settling into mated life pretty well."

My third eye roll of the night could have been logged as a world record for a Kane like me. "I see."

"You don't like it, do you?"

"I don't care to like it."

She laughed, tipping back a little too far for my comfort on her stool. In a flash of movement, my hand was at her lower back, keeping her from toppling over.

I smiled curiously. "Just how much have you had tonight, Brandi?"

"Not enough if I can still talk."

"Drowning your demons?" I waved the bartender down and ordered two shots of bourbon. "I can help with that."

She grinned, a leisurely expression expanding her pupils. She shrugged out of my arm and slid from the stool, balancing on her pinpoint black stilettos with ease. "Come on. I'm not a lightweight. You just wanted an excuse to make every person in this bar jealous." "You and Tanner can always see through my motives."

"I don't care. I'm tired of getting ogled. Glad you're here."

She scooped the shot from the counter and drank it without hesitation. When I reached for mine, she repeated the movement, inviting the bartender to linger a little look with a flirtatious grin. I sneered at him. As soon as he scampered off, I leaned against the counter and studied my best friend's little sister.

Well, she wasn't little anymore. Not by a long shot. She was very much grown. And I didn't understand why it had taken so long for me to notice.

Brandi smiled, mimicking my stance. "You're drowning your demons, too."

"Guilty."

"Tell me what's eating you up." She waved away the request and then wiggled her fingers in front of my face while letting her eyes roll back to reveal white. "No, no, let Madame Brandi predict your predicament."

I cackled. Another sip of whiskey and a headshake later, I had the courage to spill the details of my dilemma-plus a little commentary about the dinner I'd ditched.

"What an ass," she said with a teasing tone. "You, I mean. You're the a*s. You didn't have to do that to her."

I shrugged. "She wanted to be in the spotlight. I gave her the spotlight. Any tabloid would be happy to interview her now that she's been dumped by a Kane."

"But you didn't have to make her miserable just because you're miserable about your parents pressuring you into a mating."

My right brow rose dubiously. "I'm not miserable. I'm just-"

"Totally devastated. Disappointed." She wiggled her eyebrows. "Annoyed. Madam Brandi can see all."

"Does that work on humans?"

She nodded emphatically. "Absolutely. Every single time."

"Don't tell me you use tarot cards."

She blushed, sank into her shoulders, and hid her mouth behind the lip of her beer bottle. Chuckles burst from me while I reached out to shake her shoulder. In as friendly a manner as possible, of course. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that her skin looked so soft under the gentle blue tones raining from above us.

But it just so happened to be a total coincidence that I was correct. Her skin was soft. And it was nice.

"Must be so hard," she joked, straightening her posture. She sipped her beer, set it down, and waved the bartender over for another. "You have everything set for you. For life. No worries at all."

"I have plenty of worries."

She snorted with disbelief. "You own a tech company that heads artificial intelligence research."

"I don't own it."

Confusion spattered her features. "What?"

"My parents own the company." I stared at my empty glass sitting on the counter. Amber liquid sloshed into it. I nodded gratefully at the bartender while lifting the glass. "It doesn't get passed to me until I mate with someone. It's part of my family contract." Brandi was mystified.

I nodded. "That's the problem. I can't just inherit the company. I have to..." I trailed off with a grimace, sinking into myself like Brandi had just done moments ago. "I have to mate and start a family."

"Yikes."

"Yep. I wish I could just fake it."

A blank expression stole across her features as she stared over my shoulder. And then, like nothing had happened at all, she resolutely set her beer on the counter and grabbed my hand. "Let's go dance, Scaly Boy," she suggested, "before you drown the dancing demons out of you."