Under His Reign (To Be Claimed #5) Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dragons, Erotic, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal Tags Authors: , Series: To Be Claimed Series by W. Winters
Series: Willow Winters
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Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 60207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
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Cyrus leans forward as Galen strums his fingers along his lip, no doubt contemplating the possibility of this Isabella being a mate. I catch Galen’s eyes and hold them, watching as they quickly flash reptilian and flicker icy blue in color. His dragon craves the woman. I snort and nod as my own dragon claws against my chest. There’s no need to fight over her, she will choose which of us she’d like to mate. My shoulders stiffen at the thought. I look back at my brother and he seems to be thinking the same.

Cyrus laughs and claps his hands to gain our attention. He smirks at us. “Maybe we should wait and see if this woman even exists?” I relax my posture and lean back once again.

“For once our little brother has a point.” Galen huffs a puff of cold air and settles against the hard throne.

“We shall see.” I won’t show any mercy if Victor has brought false hope to us. It’ll be his death.

As Galen settles his dragon, mine pushes furiously against me, urging me to free him. The move is one of fury and rage. I instantly rise out of the throne, frightening the sorcerer who cowers and lowers his head. My dragon settles and my forehead pinches in confusion. My breathing is uneven, and I take a moment to regain my composure. I search the room for a threat, but there is none. Adelle’s eyes widen, but she remains somewhat poised. It’s been quite some time since I’ve felt the push from my beast. I grunt and retake my seat, not knowing what the hell got him riled up. My eyes dart to the door as I hear the men enter the room, each followed by a woman.

The woman on the left and closest to Cyrus is a young, petite blonde, far too skinny and pale to be well. She stares at the floor as she walks. Her hands are shackled, and her breathing comes in short pants. The clacking of the metal chains banging together echoes through the empty hall. The red-headed woman on the right is no doubt of similar age and health. They’re both in desperate need of a good meal and reek of fear and uncertainty. My nostrils flare in anger.

As the men plant their feet, the two women go gently to their knees and bow before us. Shackled and trained to submit. Victor has brought us slaves as a gift. I clench my fist and consider ending his life. The only reason I hesitate is the possibility of this Isabella. I shift uncomfortably as I decide what I want to do. He swallows thickly, sensing my anger.

“We have a third, my Lord.” My brows raise in surprise. He thinks I’m angry that there are only two. What a stumbling fool. My jaw ticks, and my dragon attempts to leap from my chest once again, furiously batting his wings. The urge to leave the room is overwhelming. To go to something. The movement of my dragon distracts me for a moment as the doors open and a woman in chains is pushed through, stumbling and falling hard on her knees.

My dragon relaxes and pushes slowly against me, focusing only on the woman. Her dirty blonde hair is a tangled mess. She’s in the same condition as the others, but she’s different somehow. “Come!” Victor’s hard command to her makes my dragon’s fire burn in my chest.

Her eyes find mine as she raises her head. She spits her words. “I’d rather die.” My heart flames and my blood heats. Her hard eyes of defiance light a deep, buried need within me. I rise and walk to her slowly.

“Bow to him.” I ignore the sorcerer, striding by him and stalk the length of the hall.

“Fuck you!” She bites out the words through clenched teeth and the movement of her jaw emphasizes the bones sticking out from her skin. She’s so thin. Far too thin. The spell of a whip cast by the man who dragged her in sings in the air as it pierces across her neck and down her shoulder, ripping into her soft flesh.

I snarl in anger and allow my dragon to come forth. Scales impale my skin and flow down my back as my jaw stretches and the heat of fire scorches my throat. I grip the man’s throat and squeeze, digging my sharp talons in as my teeth sharpen and lengthen. I don’t let my dragon fully take over; I merely allow his strength to show.

Fire smolders deep in my belly as I hiss flames through my teeth and scorch the man. He screams a strangled cry in agony. I’m only vaguely aware of the hushed gasps, it all happens so quickly. His flesh burns with a nauseating stench I’d almost forgotten as he struggles in my grasp. I don’t let up on the fire consuming him until he’s still and burned to a crisp. The hall is silent as ashes of his remains scatter. My eyes flash reptilian and I know they must be red as my dragon grants my human body control and the scales, talons, and fangs retreat. The pain is pleasurable. My dragon protests, but I am far stronger than he is. With a hiss and a snort of fire, my human form recovers. The bones crack into place and my head slowly turns to the focus of my ire.



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