House Of Dragons

  THE HOUSE OF

  DRAGONS

  A PARANORMAL MENAGE ROMANCE

  AMIRA RAIN

  Copyright ©2018 by Amira Rain

  All rights reserved.

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  About This Book

  In an apocalyptic world ruled by WereDragons, young Kira Wakefield found herself “invited”to spend time living with the heirs to the dragon throne, Mason and Alex Iverson.

  This invite came from the king himself and it was not an invite you could decline.

  Rumor had it that Mason and Alex were both looking for a mate before they could take the throne and this was partly true.

  However, there was a twist.

  The men were not going to be the ones to decide if they wanted her as a mate.

  It would be HER that would decide which of the men she wanted. And whoever she chose would become king.

  And now Kira was set to live with 2 handsome weredragons who would stop at nothing to make her the happiest, most satisfied woman on the planet.

  This was going to be more fun than she ever expected...

  This is a Paranormal Menage Romance so only read if you enjoy scenes of this nature. Expect steamy scenes, intriguing plots, dramatic conflict and fiery DRAGON fun. Download now and enjoy!

  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 ONE

  I’d always disliked my eyes. Specifically, I’d always disliked the fact that they were two different colors. And not two “kind of” different colors, like, one hazel and one a bit greener. My eyes were two completely different colors, one pale blue and one vivid jewel green. The technical term for this was heterochromia, but I just called it annoying. After all, it got kind of old to have to answer the question, “What’s up with your eyes?” at least several times a day. I also frequently got “Are your eyes really two different colors?” as people peered at them, as well as “Are those your real eyes?” as if I’d use contacts to intentionally make my eyes look odd and draw attention to myself. Sometimes, I even got the question, “What’s wrong with your eyes?” which never failed to lower my mood, just to have the point driven home to me once again that some people’s initial reaction to my eyes was to think that there was something “wrong” with them.

  All this wasn’t to say that everyone was rude to me about my eyes; everyone wasn’t. In fact, comments I received along the lines of “Your eyes are so beautiful” probably outweighed the “bad” comments I received two-to-one. Nonetheless, being something of a semi-introvert and a person not big on receiving constant attention from strangers, I would have rather just received no comments about my eyes at all. To this end, I’d tried colored contacts to “correct” my eyes a few years back, first wearing a green one in my pale blue eye, and then later trying a blue one in my green eye. However, contacts had irritated my eyes horribly, and after I’d tried maybe ten different brands, my ophthalmologist had finally declared that I had some sort of an unspecified allergy, and that contacts probably just weren’t going to work for me.

  None of the annoyance my eyes had caused me over the years even mattered in the present. In fact, it now all seemed so unbelievably trivial and petty to me. This was because in the present, my eyes were causing me a bigger problem than just mere annoyance. At present, my eyes were ruining my life.

  It had all started the day before, when two government agents, one male and one female, had visited my apartment, insisting on having “just a little chat,” as they put it, with me. Baffled and more than a bit apprehensive, I’d reluctantly let them in and sat them down at my kitchen table, saying that my tax preparer had told me months earlier that just because I’d paid my city income tax bill a few weeks late, that didn’t mean I’d get in any sort of trouble with the government.

  “So, if that’s why you folks are here, just know that I was told-”

  “That’s not why we’re here.” The female agent had spoken to me, and after a glance at her fellow agent, she continued. “We’re here because of your eyes, Miss Wakefield.”

  Stunned and thoroughly confused, I didn’t say anything, and instead just sat at my kitchen table perfectly mute. Even if my life had depended on it, I probably couldn’t have come up with any possible reason that two government agents would visit me about my eyes. Unless they’re not here on any official business and instead have just heard about my eyes and have simply come to take a look at the “freak,” I thought, discovering that even in the midst of my complete confusion, a small, negative part of my brain was still expecting “the usual” when it came to my eyes.

  Surely sensing my bafflement, the male agent at my kitchen table said that he’d explain. “See, as you probably know, Commander Iverson is getting up there in years.”

  Hearing this, I was even more baffled, not at all sure what Commander Iverson and his age could possibly have to do with my eyes. I couldn’t fathom what he could have to do with me, period. Although I certainly knew of him, I didn’t know him, much like Americans had probably known of their presidents hundreds of years earlier, I figured.

  America didn’t exist anymore. At least, the country didn’t, although the land mass still existed. America as a country, though, had fallen during something people now referred to as the Greatest War. During that time, the government had been toppled, along with many other governments worldwide. Chemical weapons had been released all around the globe, killing millions of people. Millions more died of starvation.

  Eventually, it was revealed that the chemical weapons had turned some men into shapeshifters, men who could shift between human and animal forms at will. The chemical weapons had permanently altered their DNA so that their male offspring would be shifters, too. As to why the chemical weapons hadn’t turned some women into shifters as well, no one had any idea, or at least regular citizens didn’t. Some of the few remaining top-level scientists in the country claimed to know.

  With the national government having collapsed, it was shifters who ultimately stepped in to fill the void and restore rule of law, establishing a new nation they simply called the United Were-dragon States. This name was chosen because most of the shifters in the country formerly known as America were a type of shifter called a were-dragon, which was to say, a shifter who could shift into the form of a werewolf as well as the form of a dragon. This was something unique, because around the globe, other shifters typically were only able to shift into one kind of animal. Whether this was because the type of chemical weapons that had been released were different in each region or what, only the scientists knew.

  The government of the United Were-dragon States was kind of similar to th
at of the former United States, but just kind of. States and state names still remained, and each state democratically elected their own were-dragons to serve as representatives in the national council, which proposed and passed certain laws. As far as the equivalent to a president, though, things were very different. A were-dragon named John Iverson took the reins of power as commander-in-chief of the nation, and he was the say-all, be-all, and end-all when it came to laws, the military, and general governance of the nation. Really, he was much more like a king than a president, especially since he decreed that power would be passed down directly through his male line indefinitely.

  Grateful to have a strong leader in power, the citizens of the newly-named United Were-dragon States seemed content with this arrangement, and the new government endured and became stronger, with power being handed down through Iverson sons for generations.

  With the population decimated and the nation in absolute shambles after the Greatest War, it took hundreds of years for things to go back to the way they were prewar as far as technology. In fact, the touchscreen phone that I currently owned, which was the latest model of cellphone, was said to be similar to one that had existed hundreds of years earlier, before the war.

  Back in the present, I did know that Commander Iverson, who was the current commander-in-chief of the nation, was “getting up there in years,” as the government agent had assumed. Everyone in the United Were-dragon States knew this. Everyone also knew that since his only son had died during an international shifter conflict several years earlier, he would soon be choosing one of his two grandsons to take the reins of power from him. This was because when it came to the Iverson “dynasty,” the ruling “monarch” didn’t necessarily have to pick his oldest heir to be the new ruler. Iverson rulers had always simply picked who they thought was the best heir for the job, whether that heir be a younger brother or older.

  In response to what the male government agent sitting at my kitchen table had said about Commander Iverson “getting up there in years,” I asked, after a few seconds of baffled silence, what that could possibly have to do with me. “Is he asking random citizens to help him select his new replacement now or something?”

  I knew this was kind of a “cheeky” comment for someone to make about the commander-in-chief of the nation, although I wasn’t too worried about repercussions. Like when presidents had “ruled” over America, ordinary people were allowed to freely criticize the commander-in-chief and make “cheeky” comments about him. However, people were definitely not allowed to make any kind of a threat against him or even hint about any plans to oust him from power, no matter how half-baked. Comments like these could earn a person a prison sentence. Comments like these weren’t often uttered, though, because the public generally liked and respected the Iverson line of rulers and generally always had. In the few hundred years since the war, times had often been challenging for the new nation, but the Iversons were, for the most part, strong, fair, smart leaders who had made the nation more prosperous than many other nations postwar. And full stomachs had a way of inspiring confidence in leadership and respect for whatever commander was currently in power.

  In response to my sarcastic question, the male government agent unsurprisingly said that no, Commander Iverson wasn’t asking random citizens to help him select his new replacement. “At least…not citizens, plural, and not random citizens. He’s being a bit more methodical about it.”

  Frustrated, tense, and baffled, I heaved a sigh. “Will you just simply spell all this out for me, please? Why are you agents at my apartment? And what on earth do my eyes have to do with anything?”

  Sighing himself, the male agent glanced at his female companion before returning his gaze to me. “Maybe you’ve heard in the newspapers that the commander is kind of a superstitious man and somewhat unconventional in his way of doing things sometimes.”

  I had heard that, and I nodded. “Yes. I’ve heard that.”

  I’d also heard that the commander was even becoming a bit downright eccentric in his old age, studying star charts for “signs of prophecy” and things like that. Maybe a little surprisingly, most people didn’t seem bothered by this, and instead seemed to accept the commander’s eccentricities as some form of wisdom that maybe the general public just couldn’t quite understand.

  The male agent continued, “Well, to put things simply, the commander is set on employing an unusual method to help him select the new commander-in-chief. He’s set on using a ‘prophecy’ that he says is from his late mother.”

  Becoming further baffled, I just stared at the male agent for a moment. “I’m sorry. What?”

  Breaking her silence, the female agent cleared her throat before speaking. “The commander’s mother was said to be some kind of a psychic. It wasn’t widely talked about at the time because the former commander, her husband, was afraid of what the public might think. Regardless, though, her family knew, and she often reported visions that she had while dreaming to her son, the current Commander Iverson, and this is where you come into all this.”

  “Me?”

  I could hardly believe what I was hearing.

  The female agent nodded, making her short brown bob swing a little. “Yes. You come into all this because, in short, the commander’s mother once told him about a prophetic dream she had, where he was an older man, trying to decide which of two heirs to pass his power to. Ultimately, in the dream, a young woman with two different-colored eyes, one blue, one green, entered the picture, and this young woman was able to ascertain which of the heirs was best suited to take power.”

  I was beginning to feel like I was in some absolutely bizarre dream.

  Carefully surveying my face, as if looking for signs that I was going to pass out or something, the female agent continued, “The commander’s mother told him that she was sure that her dream would actually come to pass. She could just feel it, she said. She just knew it would come true someday. So, she advised her son that when the time came for him to decide between two heirs, he should enlist the help of the young woman with the different-colored eyes. ‘She’ll be near the capital…by a river,’ the commander’s mother told him. For some reason, she just felt strongly that she was having a psychic premonition based on her dream…and, apparently, in modern day, the commander truly believes that she was.”

  Not knowing what to say or even what to think, I said nothing; and the male agent jumped into the conversation again.

  “Based on the commander’s wishes, we began a search a while ago…looking for a young woman here in Michigan, different-colored eyes, one green and one blue, living near the capital by a river. We ultimately found you by combing through the state database of driver’s licenses, where you’re listed as having different-colored eyes, one green and one blue. Also, living here in Jacksonburg, you’re obviously pretty near the capital, and also obviously, you live near the Grand River.”

  The male agent looked at me as if he was expecting some sort of response, but I found myself momentarily speechless. And when I was able to speak, my voice came out in a quiet near-whisper that somehow sounded strange even to my own ears.

  “I think….” I paused, trying to figure out exactly what I thought. “I think this is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me in my life.”

  The male agent, who was a balding man maybe in his late forties, cracked a smile. “Well, of course it is. Of course it is. But…it is what it is. You’re being called to serve your country, so to speak. The commander would like you to come to the capital and live in Iverson Towers for three months. During this time, he’d like you to get to know his grandsons a little better, dating them both, I guess. At the end of the three months, he’d like you to tell him who you think is best suited to be the next commander-in-chief of the nation. And, from what I’ve been told, he’ll go along with whatever you say. I think he’ll even be extremely relieved to do so. As you probably already know, both of the commander’s grandsons are quality men who have proven to be
equally strong in defense of the nation, and the commander seems to love and respect them both equally. I’m sure he’ll express a debt of gratitude to you for essentially making his line-of-succession decision for him.”

  Still unable to believe what I was hearing, I didn’t respond, and the female agent reentered the conversation.

  “The commander expects you to come back to New Detroit with us today. You can pack a few bags or suitcases, of course, and we’ll have the rest of your things shipped later.”

  The last time I’d been to the nation’s capital of New Detroit had been a few months earlier, to go to a baseball game at the stadium with a few friends. Having not been to the city for years, I’d rediscovered how much I loved it, and I’d vowed to not go so long before visiting it again. Obviously, though, I’d thought that I’d return to go shopping or maybe watch a play or try a new restaurant. I’d never dreamed that I’d be returning so soon because the commander-in-chief had summoned me.

  Still in shock from everything the agents had told me, I asked the female agent if I had a choice about going to the capitol that very day. “Really, do I have a choice about any of this?”

  Shifting her gaze from my face to the kitchen table, the female agent gave her throat a quiet little clear. “I’m afraid not. Now, after you tell the commander who you think he should pass power to, I know it will be up to you and that particular grandson whether the two of you go on to continue your relationship and eventually get married. It’s my understanding that if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. The commander isn’t in the business of forced marriages, after all. He is, however, insisting that you help him in the process of selecting his successor. He wants you to come to the capital, stay for three months, get to know both his grandsons, and then tell him your choice. And I don’t mean to make this sound…well, in any way threatening, but…you really don’t have a choice about all this. If you refuse to comply…all I can say is that you definitely might be looking at prison time for defying the commander’s wishes.”