The Christmas Dragon's Mate: BBW Dragon Shifter Paranormal Romance Read online

  The Christmas Dragon's Mate

  By Zoe Chant

  Copyright Zoe Chant 2016

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One: Dara

  Chapter Two: Henrik

  Chapter Three: Dara

  Chapter Four: Henrik

  Chapter Five: Dara

  Chapter Six: Henrik

  Chapter Seven: Dara

  Chapter Eight: Henrik

  Chapter Nine: Dara

  Epilogue: Dara

  A note from Zoe Chant

  More Paranormal Romance by Zoe Chant

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  Chapter One: Dara

  “I’m dreaming of a White Christmas, just like the one I used to know,” a voice on the radio was crooning.

  Dara Jenkins took a deep breath, staring at the road in front of her. It was almost Christmas. There were only two weeks left, and here she was: all alone out on the road. Under her breath, she began to sing along, glad that nobody could hear her.

  She’d always loved Christmas: the snow and the many lights, happy faces, baking cookies and spending time with loved ones.

  Of course, most of those perfect Christmases in her head were scenes from movies. Still, even if no one in her family was in the mood for a happy, old-fashioned get-together, it didn’t mean that Dara couldn’t just take things into her own hands and take a nice, long Christmas vacation, somewhere where she could take long walks in the snow. Right?

  As if on command, her phone began to ring. One look at the caller ID was enough to tell her who it was: her best friend Miranda, who’d moved all the way to the other coast last month to marry her fiancé of three years.

  Some people have all the luck, Dara thought with a sigh.

  Not that she begrudged Miranda her happiness, but with her best friend gone, just at the moment when Dara needed her the most, she was all alone for Christmas. No friends. No family.

  She must think I’m such a loser.

  The phone stopped ringing. A minute later, the phone beeped!, letting her know that she’d gotten a text.

  With a deep sigh, Dara pulled over. She’d made it to the foothills of the mountains where she hoped to find a cozy little hotel for the holidays. She hadn’t booked ahead—she’d left on a whim, and it had seemed romantic to simply drive and stop as soon as she found a place that appealed to her.

  A snow-covered valley. A house with candles in the windows. Laughing children.

  She felt a little pang of envy once more. She’d never had that sort of Christmas before. Perhaps it was childish to wish for it still. They were all grown-ups now. She should know that real life rarely produced the perfect, happy families that all her favorite Christmas movies portrayed. But somehow, Dara had never stopped dreaming.

  She grabbed her phone and then stepped out of her car. She needed some fresh air.

  The view outside was glorious. She’d driven high enough by now that she could see below her the stretch of valleys and rivers and the occasional small settlement.

  Of course, there was no snow yet, but surely that would come once she drove higher into the mountains. All the brochures had guaranteed snow.

  She took a deep breath. The air was clear and cold. For the first time in months, she felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. It felt good to leave the city and her job behind, at least for a week or two. And she had nothing left to hold her back now.

  Her mom had raised her all alone. Last year, she had married again—and now her mom was off exploring Europe, where her husband had a teaching contract for the next five years.

  Mom deserves happiness. She’s done so much for me, Dara thought as she lifted her phone. Still, so close to Christmas it was hard to not feel utterly alone and abandoned.

  You okay? the text read. Call me back. The offer to spend Christmas with us still stands. You’ll get used to his family!

  Dara grimaced. Trust Miranda to cut right to the heart of the matter.

  I’m fine, she texted back. You know I’m not that into Christmas. Anyway, I’m going skiing. I’ll call you tomorrow.

  It took less than three seconds for her phone to beep again.

  SKIING????!! the message read.

  Dara giggled softly as she imagined her friend’s face. Neither of them knew how to ski, and more importantly, they had never even thought about trying to learn. Dara had never thought of herself as an outdoors sort of person—at least, not someone who had adventures. Walks in the park were adventure enough for her.

  But she couldn’t tell anyone that she was planning on spending the winter holidays in some cozy little place in the mountains, trying to find the Christmas magic she’d dreamed of since she was a child.

  She was hoping for a tiny hotel with friendly people: pancakes in the morning and eggnog in the evening, gathering with other guests around the fireplace at night, and long walks in the snow. The websites and brochures for this part of the mountains promised family-friendly, picturesque settlements. And Dara was sick of spending Christmas mornings all alone with only a cup of coffee to warm her.

  Dara Jenkins, if there is a man behind all of this you, will tell me EVERYTHING! the next message read. Call me tomorrow!!!

  Dara giggled again and then put her phone away. Maybe she could invent a sexy ski instructor. It would probably sound much better than admitting that she was trying to recreate the Christmas holidays she’d missed out on since she was a child.

  She turned to look at the mountains rising before her. It was an impressive sight. She’d never seen anything like it. She was an inner city girl, and with her mom working two jobs to support them during most of her childhood, she’d never made it outside the city except for short weekend getaways. Even then, they’d never been able to afford a beach resort or a mountain town.

  Dara took another deep breath. The air carried the scent of fir trees and something crisp and crystalline—was that the promise of snow? She could see white glistening on the sides of the mountains that rose in the distance.

  She wasn’t quite sure how far up the road would lead, but the guidebook she’d bought had recommended taking a small road that would take her through valley after valley with tiny towns and villages, all prepared for the winter tourists who wanted to take advantage of the snow.

  I’ll stop in the first place that has snow, but no drunk snowboarders, she thought.

  She didn’t want excitement—just a quiet place for the holidays. Something warm and cozy.

  She was just about to get back into the car, when something by the side of the road caught her attention. An old sign stood there, weathered by wind and rain, but when she walked a little closer, she could make out what looked like a glistening castle of snow.

  Visit Christmas Valley! the sign read. Home of the largest snow castle in the state!

  “Now that sounds promising,” Dara said out loud, a reluctant smile starting to spread over her face.

  There were colorful little dots on the picture—children playing in the giant snow castle. And there were adorable little houses with illuminated trees and roofs blanketed with snow.

  A real Christmas town. Perhaps her hasty escape from the city had been the right plan after all.

  Dara was humming to herself when she returned to her car. The last strings of White Christmas were fading away when she started the engine again. Jingle Bells began to play, and Dara found herself still humming along as she took the turn the sign had pointed to. It hadn’t said how far away the
castle was; still, she had her phone and a map in her car, and she had hours left before it would start to get dark.

  One way or another, she’d find a little mountain resort. Christmas Valley wasn’t the only option—but for some reason, she was already charmed by it. How strange that her guidebook hadn’t mentioned it.

  They probably didn’t cater to the rich snowboarding and skiing crowd. That’s why there hadn’t been an article on it. But that was just fine with Dara, who’d take a snow castle over a fancy bar any day.

  The road the sign had pointed her to was narrow. It led her straight into the heart of the mountains, or so it seemed. She drove for an hour while the foothills turned into mountains and the road began to curve along the side of steep cliffs. The road was in good shape, but still she drove slowly. She wasn’t used to this sort of driving, and while it was exhilarating to explore the area, it was also scary.

  After she’d taken another curve around a jutting mountain side, a valley suddenly opened up before her. The sight was so beautiful it took her breath away. Nestled into the valley were little houses, all decorated with Christmas lights. There were lights in the trees as well, and smoke rose from the chimneys.

  This had to be Christmas Valley! Excitement bubbled up inside Dara, although a moment later, she realized that there was none of the promised snow to be seen.

  Then a spot of white hit her window shield.

  A snowflake!

  Another fell, and another, and through the slow dance of the flakes, Dara saw another sign pointing toward a road that led away from the little valley and up the mountain.

  Visit the Snow Castle! it said. The road that led upwards was already covered in a thin layer of snow, and without thinking Dara turned her car to head towards where the sign pointed her.

  After all, it was still early. She could go and look for a hotel in Christmas Valley later on. First, she wanted a glimpse of real snow!

  She drove very carefully. She wasn’t used to driving on snow, but before this trip, she’d made sure that her car was prepared for the winter. When her mom had left for Europe with her new husband, she’d left Dara her old car. It was nicer than anything Dara had owned before; even though it was at least ten years old, it had been well cared for. Most importantly, it had all-wheel drive. The guidebook had said that she’d be fine on the mountain roads—as long as she stayed on the roads and listened to the forecast.

  “This is definitely an adventure,” Dara murmured with a smile on her lips as she drove on through the falling snow. It was like driving through a veil of white. It was beautiful, and she couldn’t wait to stop the car and take a walk through the snow castle.

  The road was very steep now. So far, her tires had had no problem with the snow.

  But…

  With a sudden jolt, she wondered why she couldn’t see any sign that other cars had taken this road lately. But surely there would have been a sign if the castle was closed?

  Also, it’s snowing, dummy. Of course you can’t see any tire tracks!

  It couldn’t be much farther now. Steep walls of bare rock arose to both sides of the road. It almost felt like driving through a tunnel—only instead of darkness, everything was white.

  Dara was still humming along to the radio. A while ago, the program had switched from carols to orchestral pieces. Dara didn’t change the station; it sounded festive and made her think of quiet Christmas nights.

  She turned another corner. Everything was peaceful and white—and then she gasped and hit the brakes as hard as she could.

  For a split second, the car slid and her heart almost stopped. Then it came to a stand still—mere inches from what looked like a closed tunnel.

  Dara blinked at the falling snow. Before her, the steep rocks that had surrounded the small road came together. There was a tunnel that led through it, and above the tunnel, there was a large picture of the snow castle made from some sort of translucent plastic that glistened in the light like real ice.

  But the tunnel was blocked. A gate made it impossible to enter. It seemed to be made from the same glistening plastic as the sign, so that it looked like giant icicles blocked her path.

  It was very beautiful, but even so Dara felt frustration well up inside her.

  “Of course it’s closed today! Of course!” she muttered, her fingers drumming angrily on her steering wheel.

  This was supposed to be her perfect winter holiday—but nothing was going as planned.

  With a sigh, she switched off the radio.

  I guess I’ll come back tomorrow. I should at least check if they’ve got opening times posted, now that I’ve driven all the way through the snow.

  Besides that, she’d been driving for so long that a short walk in the snow would be welcome.

  She pulled her hood up when she left the car. She’d bought a new parka for this winter adventure. It had been on clearance, and she hadn’t been able to resist when she saw it.

  It looked like just the thing happy people in a winter resort would wear: it was pink and hugged her ample curves just right, lined with a fuzzy, white fur that was soft to the touch and made her dream of curling up by a fire wrapped in a warm blanket. It was filled with down, small feathers that were supposed to keep her warm like no other material, or so the saleswoman had assured her. Just the right parka for a winter holiday. She’d never needed real winter gear before. Perhaps it was time to put those feathers to the test.

  Her eyes widened when she closed the door and straightened. It was cold!

  The wind immediately pulled at her hair, teasing the short, brown ringlets that escaped the hood so that she had to brush them out of her eyes. She shivered, and then remembered to zip her parka all the way up.

  Better! The cold was biting at her face, but for now she felt warm and cozy.

  Pleased with her preparations, she stroked over her parka, the pink the only spot of color she could see in this world of white. Then she pulled gloves from her pockets and put those on as well before she strode over to the gate of fake icicles.

  Up close, the craftsmanship was impressive. They gleamed like real ice, only they were as thick as tree trunks. And it almost looked like they were lit from the inside…

  For a long moment, she couldn’t take her eyes off them. The icicles shimmered in pale hues of rose and pink, then changing slowly to a mysterious light blue, and Dara released a slow breath.

  She couldn’t say what was making her act, but all of a sudden she found herself pulling off a glove and pressing her bare hand to the fake ice.

  “Oh!” she breathed, shocked at the sudden, biting cold.

  It felt like a real icicle! How strange.

  When she pulled her hand away, moisture was glistening on her skin, as though the icicle had begun to melt at her touch.

  Don’t be silly. The plastic is coated by real ice, because it’s snowing and really cold, she told herself. It’s some sort of theme park, not a fairy tale!

  She straightened her shoulders. She could just make out some sort of sign behind the icicles, at the other end of the tunnel.

  Would that have their opening hours?

  Frustrated, she looked around. There was nothing on this side of the gate that she could see: no visitor’s information or map, or even the admission price.

  But now that she was so close to the gate, she realized that she’d be able to slip past the huge plastic icicles. To her right, one icicle seemed a little crooked; it was narrower too, and when she tentatively pushed her shoulder through the gap, there was no alarm.

  “Hello?” she called out a little uncertainly. She didn’t want to trespass—but it would be really silly to drive so far and leave without knowing their opening hours. “I just want to look at your visitor’s information!”

  No reply. Maybe this was a day off for the castle?

  Determinedly, she pushed through the gap between icicles. In the tunnel, it was a little warmer. The wind was no longer biting at her. She pushed her gloves back into he
r pocket as she walked toward where she’d seen the sign.

  The tunnel wasn’t long: perhaps twice the length of her car. From the opening before her, light fell in. She couldn’t see anything beyond, because it was still snowing heavily. Everything was white.

  There was snow beneath her feet as well. Her steps made an eerie echo. For a moment, she shivered; it felt as though she was all alone in the world. There was nothing but her and the snow, no other living being anywhere nearby.

  After what seemed like an uncannily long time, she reached the sign she’d seen from the entrance. It was mostly covered in snow that the wind must have blown into the tunnel. She put on her gloves again to wipe it away—but just at that moment, the heavy snowfall outside ceased, and sudden sunlight came shining in.

  Dara gasped, overwhelmed. There, before her, a plane of gleaming snow stretched out, gently sloping upwards.

  And there, on top of the mountain, rose the snow castle.

  “Wow,” she breathed.

  The sight was incredible. The sun was reflecting off all the ice and snow, which made it hard to see details, but Dara had never seen anything so beautiful. She could make out towers and snow-covered roofs, wide walls and windows.

  It is huge!

  Dara felt as if she’d just stepped through a magic door and landed straight in Disneyland.

  How come the guidebook hadn’t mentioned Christmas Valley and its castle? Surely this had to be the main attraction of the area!

  Captivated by the sight, Dara took a step forward. A sudden, cold gust of air made her shiver and clutch at her hood.

  When she looked up at the sky, the sun that had made the castle gleam and glisten a moment ago had vanished. Instead, everything was suddenly gray and white.

  It began to snow again, much heavier than before. The wind picked up as well. When Dara turned around, already shivering despite her warm parka, the tunnel behind her had vanished.

  For a moment she stood there, gaping at the veil of white where a minute ago, the entrance had been.

  The wind was driving the snow into her face. She couldn’t see more than a few steps in front of her. Everything was white, and the wind was so strong it was difficult to keep her eyes open.