Storm Harem Read online

  Ragnar dropped a pork rib on his plate and sat back in his chair as he wiped his fingers. Not only had they slept a million years, but their old enemy had arrived on this planet. His inner dragon screamed and thundered inside his mind. “How do we find mates?”

  “We cannot locate our mates automatically using technology. So far, we have each found our mates by accident, confirmed our inner intuition with our meeting analysis, and have proceeded to court and woo our Dragon Soul mates to our best ability,” Kian said.

  “Some of us better than others.” Dax laughed at Aiden.

  “I don’t remember Aria being particularly happy to be stuck in the mansion with you when she first arrived,” Aiden chided.

  “At least I didn’t spend a week outside in the rain like a drowned rat,” Dax said.

  “I suggest you study some human media for information about courtship,” Cato said. “I have catalogued useful films, songs, articles, and books that can help you understand the human courtship process.”

  “Not that it helped him any,” Aiden said, motioning to the big fire dragon.

  Dax bit off a laugh.

  “We have all had our trials and tribulations,” Kian explained, “as I’m sure you will as well. But having come before, we are here to help you with whatever you need.”

  “First, we will need a home. Azure, our AI, suggested we find a real estate agent,” Hanish said.

  “We’ll help you find one,” Kian offered.

  Chapter 2

  Krista Wilder kicked her pumps from her aching feet and trudged through her condo. She’d spent months with these clients before they’d closed their dream home today. Through the entire escrow meeting, she’d held her pen between her thumb and forefinger, gritting her teeth in a fake smile, waiting for them to back out at the last moment. Thankfully, they hadn’t, and the escrow had closed. Finally, this deal was done.

  She went to the big gleaming stainless-steel fridge and poured herself a glass of Chardonnay. Walking through her airy kitchen with top-of-the-line everything, her feet padding over polished hardwood flooring, she noticed the houseplant in her window had wilted and died.

  “How did that happen?” She strode over the high-end carpet through her tasteful, modern living room and placed her hand under the big, dead leaf. Frowning, she swirled her Chardonnay in her other hand. Krista shook her head and bit her lip, realizing she’d forgotten to add watering houseplants to her cleaning lady’s to-do list.

  “Always so busy,” she grumbled, sitting in her favorite living room chair. She gazed out the window at the view of the Seattle city skyline and sipped her wine.

  Krista had worked hard all her life. After graduating from college, she had taken a job as an intern at a real estate brokerage and worked her way up over the years to becoming a broker with her own branch office. She was proud of her accomplishments, but solely focusing on her work for so long had left her single and alone. It hadn’t mattered to Krista until that very moment, staring at her dead houseplant. She’d liked that plant, and she had just let it die.

  Why should it bother her so much? It was just a plant. She could get another one. She took another swig of wine and realized it wasn’t really about the plant. It was about her ex-boyfriend, Deacon. Deacon Hathaway had been her boyfriend for five years. Krista had expected that eventually Deacon would propose, and they would go through all the motions of getting married, moving in together, and starting a family. That was what one did. Right?

  But year after year, holiday after holiday, Deacon never proposed. Neither had ever brought up living together, and they had begun to drift apart. Six months ago, Deacon informed her out of the blue that he was moving to California for a job—that very day. Krista had been understandably shocked by this turn of events, but Deacon behaved as if it were no big deal. So she went along with it.

  At first, they’d kept up the appearance of still being together, speaking once a week through Skype or between meetings on the cell phone with the occasional text now and then. But last week, Deacon had called Krista and said he had something important to ask her. Krista thought that maybe this would be the moment when he finally popped the question. But no. Deacon informed her that he wanted to see other people. Krista had been speechless for quite some time as she walked down the street to her next appointment. She’d been so put off by his words that her heel got stuck in a sidewalk grate, and she’d had to pry it loose before carrying on.

  “What’s that again?” she’d asked him.

  “I want to see other people.” He’d explained again as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

  “I don’t see why that would be a problem.” Krista approached the building where her meeting would start in five minutes.

  “We can still see each other when I’m in town, right?” he’d said hopefully.

  Krista had stood in the doorway of the downtown high-rise, speechless with her mouth open and a scuff in her new white Jimmy Choos. She narrowed her eyes and stepped into the lobby. Businesspeople moved right and left around her. In that moment, Krista felt completely lost but only for a fraction of a second. After that, she had absolute clarity. In her most businesslike tone, she’d said, “No, that’s not going to work for me, but thank you for your time.” And she hung up. She’d made her way to her meeting and tried not to give it another thought.

  As she sat in her living room, drinking Chardonnay and staring at her dead plant, she couldn’t help thinking about it. “That’s not going to work for me, but thank you for your time.” That was how she’d finally broken up with her boyfriend of five years. She groaned and rubbed her temples with her thumb and middle finger, staring down at her wine glass. Krista had never been big on dating, especially since she had started working.

  Real estate was her passion. She loved making deals, meeting new people, finding the perfect fit for her clients. She didn’t have time for relationships. That was why she and Deacon had worked out so well for so long. Both were intense, driven, and extremely busy. So neither of them got upset or hurt when the other was working. But now, she wondered if all of the time she had invested had been a complete waste.

  She stood and paced her living room, her bare feet sinking into the lush carpet. She sipped her wine and thought about what she could do about her current state of mind. She was lonely. Loneliness was never an asset. It would interfere with her productivity, and she needed to do something about it. Maybe she could get a cat. That was it. She would get a cat. Problem solved. She would just have to make a note to inform her housekeeper that it was her job to feed the cat, or she might end up with something similar to the dead-houseplant situation.

  She grabbed her phone from her purse and did a quick search for the nearest cat breeder. What kind of cat did she want? A Persian? A Siamese? A Russian Blue? A Maine Coon? One that looked like that Grumpy Cat meme? She didn’t think she could handle a cat frowning at her all the time. She needed a happy, friendly cat, but not too friendly. She definitely needed her space. She considered a Persian but didn’t want to deal with the shedding. Then she considered the hairless Sphynx breed, but those were just frightening. That’s when she gave up and decided she didn’t really need a cat.

  Maybe she should start dating? She did a quick search on her phone for a dating website. She’d heard a few clients say they’d met on dating websites. The very idea made a shiver go down her spine, and she quickly closed the app.

  “What I really need is another glass of wine.” She made her way back to the kitchen.

  She poured her glass and heard her phone ping. She had notifications set for whenever there was a message from her brokerage website from a client asking about a high-ticket property. She took a sip of her wine, and her eyes widened as she picked up her phone and tapped over to the message.

  “We are interested in finding a twenty-thousand-square-foot mansion with plenty of land that is preferably on a hill or mountain. Price is not an issue.”

  Price is not an issue? Th
ose were her favorite words in the English language. The message was signed Akash Storm. She had never heard of him. Being a high-end broker in Seattle, she had met or knew of all the major players in the area. She tapped her lower lip with the pad of her finger, trying to think of where she may have heard the surname Storm before. It didn’t ring a bell, but what mattered was he wanted to buy a house from her.

  She quickly hit reply on the message and began typing.

  “Dear Mr. Storm, I am sure I can help you fulfill your needs. I would be happy to arrange a meeting with you at my downtown office to discuss your specific requirements. I am available tomorrow from noon to three, if that would work for you.”

  Krista was astonished when she received an immediate reply.

  “We will see you at noon.”

  “See you then,” she typed with a broad smile on her face.

  Things were definitely looking up. Nothing like a multimillion-dollar client to get her mind off her sinking loneliness. She wouldn’t have to worry about finding an obnoxious, hairy cat to share her home or remember to have it fed. She lived for the deal, and Akash Storm was bringing her one.

  Krista walked into her brokerage the next day, wearing a form-fitting designer dress and her favorite Louboutins, gripping her briefcase. She flashed a smile at her secretary and the agents who worked under her and made her way to her office. After tying up some loose ends from the deal she’d closed yesterday, she had a quick lunch and prepared for her meeting with Akash.

  She came up with a list of ten potential properties that would suit his needs. When her secretary told her the clients had arrived and were waiting in the conference room, she confidently strode down the hall with her listings prepared on her tablet and stepped through the conference room door.

  Sitting at the sleek, modern conference table in the high-backed office chairs were the three most devastatingly gorgeous men she’d ever laid eyes on, all dressed in designer business suits with eyes that sparked with electricity. She stopped short, dumbfounded by the intensity of their collective gaze. Taking a sharp breath through her nose, she gathered her wits and smiled.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen.” She reached out to shake their hands, one at a time. The electricity in their eyes seemed to radiate up through her hand on contact, running up and down her spine like a live wire that excited every energy point in her entire nervous system. She gulped, flustered and unsure of what had gotten into her. “I’m Krista Wilder, the broker here at Wilder and Associates. I put together a preliminary list of potential properties for you to look over so I can get a better idea of your needs.”

  Her tongue flicked out over her bottom lip, wetting the soft flesh as she sat in her chair opposite the three men.

  “I am Akash Storm,” said the man with perfectly coiffed brown hair, gleaming silver eyes, and a devastating smile. His posture was poised and his mannerisms confident. There was a spark of deep intelligence and understanding in his eyes. Krista almost felt as if he could see right through her. “These are my cousins, Yuki and Ragnar Storm.”

  “Nice to meet you, Krista.” Yuki gave her a friendly smile.

  His posture was not as poised as Akash’s, but there was a coiled energy that seemed to roil behind the surface. He had stormy blue eyes and slightly unkempt, wavy blond hair.

  The man Akash introduced as Ragnar only grunted in greeting. He sat silently, staring at her as if sizing her up. The look in his eyes was something between desire and the gaze of an enemy combatant ready to jump into battle at any moment. His light-blond hair was cropped short at the sides and longer over the top and down the back. She could see a tattoo peeking up under the collar of his shirt across the right side of his neck. He had sharp blue eyes and full pink lips that were temptingly soft and kissable. His broad shoulders and massive arms strained against his jacket.

  “These are the listings I have found for you so far.” She handed them the tablet. “Why don’t you take a look, and then I can get a better idea of what you are after.”

  “Size is one of our primary concerns,” Akash said. “Something between twenty thousand and fifty thousand square feet. Preferably up on a hill.”

  Krista had never had a client specifically ask for property up on a hill. It was an odd request but one she was sure she could satisfy.

  “That shouldn’t be a problem,” she said. “Were you looking for something furnished or unfurnished?”

  “We would prefer furnished,” Akash said. “We would like to move in as soon as possible. We are staying with family and don’t want to wear out our welcome.”

  “Of course.” Krista navigated through the listings on her laptop.

  Akash flipped through the photographs on the tablet while Ragnar and Yuki looked on from either side of him.

  “Do you see anything you like?”

  “Any of these could work. It is difficult to determine from still images,” Akash said.

  “I have plenty of time today if you would like to go see them.”

  “The sooner the better,” Akash said.

  3

  Akash sat beside Krista Wilder as she drove them to see the properties. He couldn’t tear his eyes from the lovely curve of her shapely legs. His inner dragon roared, and electric shocks radiated through him as the dragon bellowed his discontent. The mating impulse they’d all felt since awakening devastated his senses. But from the moment he’d laid eyes on Krista and smelled her delicious scent, he felt as if he was losing his mind.

  Mate. Mate. Mate, his dragon bellowed.

  He squeezed his eyes closed, not sure what to think of his inner beast’s proclamation. Akash was a man of learning, skilled in diplomacy and discretion. He had worked for centuries as a professor of history, and never once had his dragon behaved in such a manner. It was unbecoming of a man of his stature and position, the Duke of the House of Storms and the teacher and mentor of many. He couldn’t understand what was happening to him. But the crew of the House of Flames had informed him of the conditions they’d been experiencing here on Earth. And he had to assume it was the same for him.

  His dragon would not stop demanding he mate with the realtor, Krista Wilder. She was a lovely, intelligent, shapely woman. He could already tell she was efficient and driven but with a good heart and head on her shoulders. Objectively speaking, she would make a fantastic mate. But in all his life that had spanned over a thousand years, he had never expected to find a mate. With the dwindling female population on Dragonia, it was a distinct probability that he would spend the rest of his life alone and mateless. The dragons had long since given up their intuitive instincts about mates. With the female population in decline, they had turned to technology to confirm if two dragons were in fact fated. It was a fairly straightforward DNA test that had been in use for thousands of years.

  “I think this woman is my mate,” Yuki said through their mental link, a link all dragons had from a tiny microchip implanted at the base of their skulls. It interfaced with their wrist devices and allowed for communication with their ship AI system and each other.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Akash admitted.

  “She’s mine,” Ragnar growled through the mental link in a tone that left no room for disagreement.

  “She can’t belong to all of us,” Akash said carefully.

  “She doesn’t. She’s mine,” Ragnar said again.

  “There’s only one way to determine the validity of a match,” Akash said. “I suggest we all wait until we are able to confirm who is her fated mate. Perhaps none of us are.”

  “I’m contacting Cato right now and asking him to prepare for a mating test for all three of us and Krista. I know she’s my mate. But if it would make you feel better, we can run the analysis for everyone,” Yuki said.

  “She’s mine.” Ragnar grunted again.

  “Gentlemen,” Akash said, “we have been tasked with finding a home for the House of Storms. I will remind you both this is our primary mission.”

  “It wo
n’t interfere with the mission. The woman is my mate. I already know that. It’s merely a matter of you two getting it out of your head that she is yours.”

  “She’s mine,” Ragnar roared.

  “Do I need to send you two home?” Akash asked.

  As the oldest of the three and the Duke of the House of Storms, he outranked them both in nonmilitary matters and could send them home, which, of course, would leave him alone with Krista. He was extremely tempted to do exactly that, but Hanish had tasked all three with the home-finding mission. He knew from long experience that once Hanish gave an order, it was to be followed to the letter. Hanish made decisions like a lightning strike and could be just as quick to admonish those who did not follow through. Hanish was a good man and a good leader, but he had little patience for insubordination. Akash had a strong sense that sending the other two home so he could pursue a human female for himself would count as precisely that.

  “If you failed to follow Captain Hanish’s orders, that’s on you,” Ragnar said in a gruff, low tone.

  “Yes, yes,” Akash said. “I completely agree with you. Hanish has us all on this mission for a reason. He wants our varied impressions on the subject. He, Zephyr, and Raiden have other projects to complete. This is ours. And we should focus on it. Not the woman.”

  “Good. Then we’re all in agreement. Krista is my mate, and you two will forget about her.” Yuki’s voice was triumphant over the mental link.

  “That is not what we agreed on,” Ragnar said flatly.

  “Yuki, we will get a DNA sample somehow, and then we will commence the mating test. That is the only way to determine if she is any of our mates. We are all on the same footing here. Your one-track mind may help you in your occupation, but in this instance, it is less than beneficial to any of us.”