HUNTING HIS FATED MATE. The Dark Dragon Doesn't Know How to Love

Chapter 1. First Meeting

Out of sheer despair I stumbled into the hallway of my apartment and dropped to the floor. In the pitch dark everything blurred, and the dark hid it well: how my hands shook, how the tears ran down my cheeks and my neck. I felt torn into pieces. Somewhere out there on the street was a happy girl with a small apartment, a promising job, a loving family, and the best man in the world. And here on the floor of a dark hallway lay Marigold's shadow. A broken doll whose heart had stopped beating.

The thought that I hadn't deserved this got me up and into the shower. Afterward I put on that same seductive lingerie set and threw the old nightgown over it, the one I should have cut up for rags ages ago. And why not? I'd paid over half a paycheck for one pair of panties and a bra, and none of it interested my fiancé anyway, while the nightgown was too comfortable to give up. Right now I was a nesting doll: peel off the rags and there's another Marigold underneath, this one straight out of an adult film.

The saleswoman had been right when she said I'd feel better the moment I put this miracle on. I don't know what magic they treat them with, but I really did feel a little lighter. My broken heart ached, though not because Nathan had a warped sort of conscience. Because my parents saw nothing wrong in what Ellie had done. I hid under the blanket, head and all, and curled up. The sense of being unwanted seeped into every cell of me. My chest squeezed so hard that breathing was difficult, let alone crying. And I wanted so badly to let all the pain out, because I had no strength left to hold it in.

That was my last thought before I fell into a very strange dream.

I was falling, like a chasm had opened under me. I flailed my arms and legs helplessly and found nothing to grab. What a strange, unpleasant dream. When I used to dream about falling, it was always a staircase or an elevator. But now thick darkness sloshed around me. My throat closed with terror, and I tried to keep some scrap of sense so I wouldn't lose my mind from fear. Maybe this is what hell looks like? You're left alone with yourself and nothing else, an abyss?

It ended as suddenly as it began. I fell onto grass. I gasped at the painful landing on my tailbone and got up on shaking legs, grunting. My subconscious was screening something interesting. Notably, it was night here too. Voices carried from far off, something flashed above the treetops, and the barking of dogs made me flinch. Barefoot, in that same battered nightgown that so skillfully hid the expensive lingerie, I headed toward the source of the light and the noise.

"There you are!" A hulk leapt out from behind the trees, his face hidden by a black mask, and clamped down painfully on my shoulder.

I cried out from the pain and stared at the stranger in astonishment.

"What are you doing here and who are you?" I asked. The dream was getting stranger and stranger.

"Me?" The man was taken aback. "I never thought the Dark One would get so unlucky with his fated one!" The stranger in the mask was pleased about something. "You know what, this is even better. I thought some insignificant maiden would answer the summons. And look at this. Otherworlder, and a displeased one at that."

There was no telling what this lunatic was so happy about while he dragged me along behind him.

I liked the film my brain was broadcasting less and less.

"Get over here!" He shoved me into the center of a clearing where several tents stood. The largest and most lavish rose in the middle. It was as if he wanted everyone to see me. I hadn't fully worked out the situation yet, but the chill kept walking up my skin.

The shove was hard. I couldn't keep my feet and fell on my stomach, rolled easily up to the tent entrance, and at the last moment braced my palms against a pair of mirror-clean boots in roughly size five hundred. Brute! I was about to get up and fix this savage with a glare when a hoarse but very deep voice came from above my head.

"Raksar! Where have you been and why isn't the human woman ready for the hunt?" The frightening growl came from up there while I looked at boots.

I couldn't understand how or why the dream had turned on me. Lying on my stomach, I pinched my own arm, hard enough that I yelped. The world turned over again and I was set on my feet.

At last I could see the chin of the boots' owner.

"Who is she and why is she wearing those rags?" the giant flared again, holding me firmly by the forearms.

And I lifted my head with my mouth open and started admiring another creation of my imagination. Well, would you look at that. My mind had gone all out and produced a man with long black hair falling loose to his shoulders. His face was severe and weather-beaten, with scratches that gave him a wild look. The stern, tense stare was mesmerizing and frightening at the same time. Well-drawn brows, a strong nose, a light growth of stubble. Having looked my fill, I moved my gaze to his torso. And there was plenty to look at. The man had an athletic build: his muscled chest and stomach stood out clearly thanks to an unbuttoned black shirt. It had slipped a little off his shoulders, which gave an impression of confidence and strength.

His arms, just as muscled and strong, were holding up my suddenly weakened body. Where had I picked up all this exposure to domineering beauties? He was nothing like Nathan. You could say he was his complete opposite. The warrior type, or the bandit type, the kind that doesn't tolerate disobedience, had never appealed to me, and here we are.

Having examined everything closely, I raised my eyes to his black ones and flinched. It turned out I'd been under study this whole time too, and there wasn't a drop of my admiration in his gaze. Only contempt and an ironic smirk.

"Seen enough?" the giant asked, quieter, and his voice turned more sinister.

I nodded. Honestly, I'd have gone on looking until morning, until I woke up.

"Raksar, take her to the others. Have her prepared and get her out of those rags." He raked me with an indifferent glance.

And there I couldn't stay quiet. I tore out of the steel grip and declared with dignity:

"Right, the circus stops here! I'm not going anywhere, and it's time all of you disappeared!" I addressed the products of my own imagination.

Nobody had expected that from me, apparently, because the camp that had been noisy until then fell into dead silence.

The dark-haired man frowned and leaned down so our eyes were level.

"What did you say?" It looked like smoke was coming out of his nostrils.