Book 3 in the Awaken the Dragon series

Eating a sheep isn't usually a big deal for dragon-shifter Tarn. But waking up in a new time and getting shot at for his little snack comes as a surprise. Although he escapes, he finds himself at the mercy of the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. His mate. He wants to heal quickly to show her all the dirty things he wants to do to her. To prove he loves her, of course.

Eva’s tired of living in a big mansion with loneliness as her companion. Tarn brings happiness and romance into her life. Okay, so he's a little outdated when it comes to flirting, but that's what makes him charming. Unfortunately, Tarn learns all the latest slang and it's no time before he makes it clear he wants to tap her backside. She should be embarrassed, but the sizzling looks he gives her make it really hard to not be excited instead.

Tarn and Eva need to figure out why he has woken up and why her father is acting so strangely. Dragons are being destroyed with their own magic. It must be stopped. They track down the poachers that want him dead. It's a battle for survival while Tarn and Eva figure out if their romance can survive the dragon hunters.

Chapter 1: Tarn

There is no adequate way to describe oblivion. Since it is a state of not being, it can only be compared to a state of being. 

And so it was for Tarn. One moment, his body lay curled in an impossible position, weaving through the labyrinth of pillars. Each iridescent scale was seemingly frozen...lifeless. The next, those same scales vibrated with life as the awakening occurred. 

Tarn could not be sure how it happened or even why. Indeed, it was many moments between the actual spark of wakefulness and the time when Tarn could actually form a cohesive thought.

One minute he was oblivious...even to himself. The next minute, he was forever awake. It was a startling turn of events. 

As his temperature rose from its hibernation state, he opened one eye. Darkness, as velvety as a blanket, enveloped every surface before him. The pupil was at maximum dilation, having spent centuries in slumber. Still, it was eager to prove, once again, it could be useful. 

Though the darkness was intense, it began to pick out subtle shades in the dark. Tarn’s body, from head to tail, looped and weaved among the hardened growths of the cavern floor.

Affectionately known by locals as ‘soda straws,’ it seemed impossible that the dragon and the spiky growths could separate after so long a rest. As Tarn’s mind awakened, however, he became determined to extricate himself from this lumpy bed.

With aching slowness, Tarn activated his neck muscles. To his surprise and relief, they obeyed, creaking weakly as his reptilian blood became less thick and more pliant within him.

Such movements even gave the dragon some pleasure. With the consciousness came the knowledge that he had been asleep. And with that knowledge, he realized he did not know for how long or what world might be waiting for him outside of the cavern’s womb-like gloom.

A sudden urge gripped him. He had to find out. He had to get out of this place. He did not know how he had awakened but decided that the hows and whys could wait ‘till a later date. All he knew now was that he had to move. His muscles ached to stretch and be free.

There was no clear exit. At least, none he could see in the murky gray shadows. All around him were spikes of oddly shaped rock either hanging from the ceiling or growing from the floor in a grotesque rocky imitation of a crooked mouth.

Tarn’s thoughts were sluggish at first. But he knew he needed out. And he knew that meant only one direction: up.

Sending urgent signals to his muscles, sinews, tendons and anything else that would listen, Tarn heaved and grunted, his body expanding and stretching.

Several rock formations cracked and crumbled in the process; their sounds eerie after so long a silence.

His back arching made contact with the ceiling above, shattering the jagged growths that hung placidly downward. The talons on his feet, overgrown but still razor sharp, etched deeply into the limestone foundation. 

Then Tarn had a thought...those talons needed filing. The cavern suddenly became one giant emery board. One that, with enough effort, could break him free from his centuries-old bed.

Scratching, clawing and hacking, his talons tore at the walls around him. He was not artful or careful, but he knew he needed to get out. The confining dust of the ancient rocks was no longer tolerable or welcome.

Up, up, up he clawed. And, as he did so, the air began to change. No longer dank and stifled, Tarn could sense something else: crisp, clean air, lightly spiced with hints of something earthy and sweet. With each frantic scrape, the scent intensified. It filled his nostrils, and his clawing increased.

Then, with a satisfying crack, the wall before him gave way, like the stopper from a long-sealed barrel.

Fresh air poured in, making the dragon almost drunk with it. Lowering his head, Tarn planted his now filed and even sharper talons into the floor beneath him and burst forth into the air. 

With a stretch that almost felt obscene, his wings expanded, and he caught an air current. Though he had slumbered for centuries, his body’s ability to fly was deeply ingrained. It just needed the space and the air to remember once more.

Up he climbed, closing his eyes to bask in the smells and to better feel the gusts against his chiseled face.

The sky around him was dark. The moon looked high in the sky, and Tarn knew that the night was at its peak. He appeared to have burst forth from an intricate network of caverns nestled deep within a mountain range. The land below was dotted with odd, spiky plants and rolling waves of grasses. Chiseled throughout were pathways of some kind. 

There are no doubt roads for puny humans to use for their inefficient travel, Tarn thought, his chest swelling with superiority. He had not thought of humans in some time. Though they outnumbered dragons by a huge margin, their talents, gifts, and legacies were nothing compared to even one dragon of middling abilities.

Looking down, his dragon-sight kicked into high gear, lighting up in stark relief the land that lay below. Despite the dark, Tarn took in the shrouded human settlements that peppered the land just beyond the true dark of the mountains.

Along the pathways that criss-crossed the grasses below, Tarn expected to see little of the primitive horse and wagon contraptions humans used to take themselves slowly and inefficiently about.

But, as he glanced, he drew in a breath of shock. Two piercing lights emanated from a moving object below. Swooping down to get a closer look, Tarn was astonished to see some sort of vehicle moving along the pathway at a speed he had never seen in a horse.

What’s more, the horse was glowing. The front of it pierced the night before it with two bright beams. Seemingly coming out of the vehicle itself!

Tarn dropped even further in altitude. His shock only deepened. The fast-moving means of conveyance had no horses to speak of! It was…moving without any notable power source of any kind. At least, not one Tarn could identify.

Pulling his wings in tight against his body, he couldn’t resist getting a closer look. The machine (yes, he could safely call it a machine of some kind) emanated a strange whirring sound. He questioned if that could be the power that drove it forward.

Flying silently alongside the machine, he matched its speed. He dropped as low as he dared without fear of detection. It was a bold move, especially for a dragon so uncertain of his whereabouts, but his curiosity was piqued beyond all reason.

He had to know more. Peering, he was able to make out humans within. The chariot appeared to be entirely contained, and the inhabitants within were seemingly unaware of the fact that they controlled everything without reins. 

Do they know how dangerous that is? Tarn thought frantically. But then, another sight gave him pause.

He looked closer at the figures in the machine.  One stared ahead, and Tarn surmised that must be the human who, by some procedure then unknown, controlled the chariot. The other human was engrossed in something.

Their head was bent at an odd angle. They appeared to be staring into something. Something that glowed just like the lights beaming out of the front of the chariot. The human’s glowing machine was much smaller but seemed to be of the utmost importance to them, for they did not move for many moments. Tarn only spied their finger occasionally touching the glowing tablet itself.

His mind reeling, Tarn decided he had to disengage for now. Human watching was often confusing to him, and, after so long a slumber, he realized he should limit it until he had worked out where he was. And perhaps…when he was.

Leaving the odd human contraption behind, he climbed upward again, happy to leave that mystery behind for the time being.

Soon, the air became crisper and thinner, and Tarn felt he could breathe freer once more. For a few brief moments, he closed his eyes, happy to let his body ride on an updraft. 

His reverie was shattered, however, when a piercing noise crackled through the air. Flaring his wings and harrumphing in alarm, he opened his eyes just in time to see the largest bird he had ever seen narrowly pass him in the night.

Egad...what is that?

The bird had no feathers or even a beak. In fact, the more Tarn looked, the less like a bird it appeared. The same strange lights as he had seen coming from the human chariot below glowed from small portals along its side and front, and instead of eyes, only two large openings appeared.

And the sound it made! As it passed, it rent the air around it, shrieking and metallic.

Yes. Distinctly metallic.

Tarn had only barely committed the metal bird’s appearance in his memory when it disappeared. He was astonished to realize it had been traveling faster than the human chariot on the ground. 

Perhaps humans have invented a few things in the intervening years. But how many years has it been?

Long gone was Tarn’s jubilation at flying at long last. His nerves and brain were slightly rattled. He had never been a morning dragon, and his long slumber had not changed that about him.

Shaking his head, he decided to explore what appeared to be the less populated human areas around the mountains. It would give him space to think. 

But before he could think, he needed to eat. Up until now, he had not noticed the gnawing hunger within. Where his stomach sat felt more like a huge void, begging to be filled.

Nothing a little hunting couldn’t fix. Scanning the land below, he only hoped that humans had not found a way to eradicate easy to catch and tasty game. That would truly be an innovation he would sorely despise.