Dragon’s Unbound is an erotic M/M paranormal romance featuring dragon shape shifters. Rhys and Haydn made their first appearance toward then end of Dar’kind Promises a erotic F/F paranormal romance. Pieces of their story came together before I wrote Dar’kind Promises. I felt the need to go back and tell their story. So I took the pieces I had and went to work with a few more ‘what ifs’ to get the answers I needed to bring their story out. There are places to laugh, perhaps a tear or two and hopefully in the end the reminder that unconditional love exists and their is healing if you let go and work for it.

Today I share their cover and an excerpt.  Enjoy

Dragon’s Unbound

written by Eden Glenn

Cover Carl Franklin

Publisher Rebel Ink Press

http://www.rebelinkpress.com

Find it at Amazon hot link HERE  $2.99

Chapter One

Haydn concentrated on the steps to make the poultice for the healer. Prepare the white bread by tearing it into small pieces then warm the milk to douse the chunks and create a pasty mixture to treat the wounded dragon. At least he could do this job for the healer.

Isobeau rescued Haydn from hell and he would do anything she asked of him, even if it was only tearing countless loaves of bread into little pieces. His dragon symbiont had not emerged at puberty like his peers. Deemed a recessive, he was cast off and given to the Telihedran as a pleasure slave. Their draconic natures were ruthless. They’d used Haydn without compassion yet he survived the horror.

Helping others consumed his weeks with her. First, the rescue of the Dar’kind Fairy Maura and her tracker mate, Zelia, and now a very large indigo dragon shifter fighting for life in the ballroom of the old Victorian home. The healer helped all beings, not turning anyone away. For that alone she gained his loyalty without reservation. A loyalty events forced him to contemplate transferring to the new Dragon Guardian.

The Healer sent him on this task probably knowing he would be more comfortable in the confines of the kitchen. He hadn’t had the time to tell her what had happened. All the activity of the others preparing for the healing took up her time. That and the secret he hid gave him the sharp edge of panic, making it hard to breath. He kept the kitchen lights dim and focused on his chore, searching for calm balance.

He wiped his forehead with the back of his arm. He wasn’t sure what had turned his thoughts to remembering the past. The secrets he tried so hard to bury were surfacing, threatening to wreck everything. Isobeau kept his experiences before coming to the watchers in confidence. Perhaps the memories surfaced because the events of the afternoon left him with yet another secret to guard. He pulled his sleeve back down to hide the mark over his wrist.

Cathwren, the Guardian, was a human and not even reared among dragon kind. He found it hard to believe the small woman with the flaming hair stood as Dragon Guardian for this generation of their entire race. Her heritage would make her open-minded. Maybe there was a chance for others like himself. The fulfillment of prophecy transpired right before his very eyes.

Recently, his sexual desire had awakened. Now lust coursed through him leaving him achy and heavy, demanding relief. The few times he’d pleasured himself only made his need more poignant. He longed for a committed relationship, someone to be his, to love and take care of, a safe harbor. His longing had no outlet. Well, not one he would allow. Rhys deserved so much more than Haydn could offer. His interest in the man was yet another secret to hide.

The kitchen door burst open. Haydn jumped, instinctively grasping a knife for defense. Rhys stood in the doorway. The very man his wayward thoughts always drifted toward with imagined possibility of meaningful intimacy with crouched in the doorway, his hands spread in a calming gesture.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” There’s no danger. I pushed too hard.” He turned to examine the door. “I keep meaning to plane this where the wood swells and catches.”

Often Rhys didn’t know his own strength. He was the one Watcher who didn’t give Haydn pity, only calm compassion, acceptance, and friendship. Haydn allowed the man’s projected psy energy to wash through him, restoring his calm. He put the knife down and crossed the room, moving carefully. “The healer needs this glop quickly. It’s time.”

“I have the bread cut and the milk is almost hot enough.”

Rhys moved in so close the sandalwood scent of the soap he used flooded Haydn’s senses. The man’s hair glinted black in the low light of the evening kitchen. Haydn could see the soft wisps at the V-neck of Rhys button-down shirt. Did the hair trail down the Watcher’s chest in a light dusting or did it cover him like a furry pelt? Haydn shivered. Great Goddess, help me control my thoughts.

“That’s not necessary.” Rhys lips formed one of his infrequent smiles. A smile transformed his guarded features into the handsome masculine Adonis.

“What?” Haydn struggled to think, what wasn’t necessary. He had the bread. The milk was almost ready.

“The Goddess needn’t control your thoughts, you have that power. You’re free to think and do what pleases you now. You’re welcome to wonder what my chest looks like. I’m not offended.”

Haydn’s body trembled as conflicting emotions assailed him. How could this man perceive his thoughts so easily? It was a talent usually reserved for mated couples. The feelers of inviting warmth from Rhys tickled at his awareness.

The man’s eyes were concerned. “I won’t force you. I just wanted you to know I’m here. I could be that someone for you.”

Fighting to shield his thoughts, Haydn hurried to the stove to get the warm milk, visions of their bodies entwined together making love to each other, beautiful and sharing, until they were both spent and exhausted, clouding his mind. Ugly, painful thoughts from his past intruded. He was worthless and shamed. Dear Goddess, no. He fought to breathe and push the thoughts back behind the doors of his mind. This was dangerous. Rhys could perceive his thoughts so easily.

“No. I… No.” He rejected Rhys’ offer and grabbed the pan, bringing it to pour over the bread. With all the traps in his psyche, he couldn’t bring himself to engage in meaningless, gratification-based relationships and quick, casual, nameless, sex.

Their race had never established sexual boundaries. They accepted physical desires as any other need; to eat, to scratch an itch. Sexual acts between either gender were widely practiced and weren’t limited to the constraints of human morals. However, permanent, same gender parings were unacceptable and considered an abomination.

What would it be like to have sex with tenderness? Hadyn didn’t want anonymous sex. He wanted a partner to build a healthy life with. He wanted someone who would accept him in spite of the damage to his soul. How could he say I don’t need someone, I need you? Yet, he’d just turned down the only man who didn’t treat him like a leper.

Out of the corner of his vision, he saw Rhys smile.

Rhys reached for the bowl of bread at the same time Haydn poured the hot milk over the bread cubes. Scalded milk sloshed across Rhys’ hand, searing the skin to an immediate parboiled red.

“Crap! I’m sorry.” Haydn pulled the man toward the sink where he turned on the water, dropping the empty pan with a clatter in the bottom of the stainless steel basin.

Haydn shoved Rhys’ hand under the cold water to ease the burn. The musky, sharp scent of Rhys’ male essence blanketed Haydn. In his urgency to get Rhys’ arm to the cold water, Haydn pulled the man around him. Haydn froze. It was all too intimate. Too close. Aw hell, it was also too comfortable. Rhys clasped the edge of the sink with his free hand, bracketing Haydn in his embrace.

“You’re not trapped. This is where you want to be.” Rhys’ voice caressed Haydn like a lovers touch, deep and soothing.

Lady of light, yes, the man was right. He wanted the closeness with Rhys more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted to feel Rhys’ hard body wrapped around him. The need to have Rhys’ cock fill him became unbearable. Haydn wanted that and so much more, he couldn’t find words to describe it. The evidence of Rhys’ own need pressed against Haydn’s hip, thick and erect.

Rhys leaned his head down and whispered seductively in Haydn’s ear. “That’s yours when you’re ready to come for me.”

Haydn shivered at the double meaning. Rhy’s hot breath caressed his neck as the man paused to inhale, deeply drawing in Haydn’s scent.

“And what I have for you… I promise it won’t be quick. It won’t be casual. And it won’t be nameless.”