Dragon's Second Chance Romance - Riley Storm Page 0,2

It was part of their way of life. Most did their five-year mandatory guard duty and left it behind. Others became fixtures in the Gate Guard, the permanent force assigned to ensure no creatures from the Otherworld got through.

Then there were those like Pietro, who simply volunteered their time when it was needed. He didn’t mind volunteering for a shift here or there, but that didn’t stop him from being utterly bored out of his mind when he did.

Nothing happened with the Gate. If it did, the dragons stopped it. This gave him all the time in the world to think, ponder, and ultimately relive one of the most recent embarrassing episodes of his life.

It all revolved around her. Pietro was certain that if he had another memory that involved her, he would be able to focus on that one instead. However, the only one he had was beyond embarrassing to recall. And yet, he couldn’t get her out of his head.

Forgetting such a dismal showing on his part shouldn’t have been hard. It wasn’t the first time he’d made a fool of himself. Nor would it be the last, most likely. He was male after all.

We do that sometimes.

But this woman was different. Short, thick, and with hair the color of fire. He called red-hot flames into existence, flickering in his palm as he shaped it into the color and style of her hair. Long, wavy, and free.

“Got something on your mind?”

Pietro rolled his head to the side to give the owner of the voice a look. “Down here? In hour six of eight? With absolutely no change? Nah. I have got nothing on my mind.”

Gunnar Atrox, the shift leader and also commander of the Gate Guard, laughed heartily at his reply. “After the weird events recently, I am perfectly fine with zero activity.”

Peitro grunted. What was he supposed to say to that anyway? He’d not been around during the strange energy fluctuations, but those had been solved, hadn’t they? His eyes dropped to the copper pole sticking out of the ground. It ran a hundred feet deep, at least, and was a full six-inches across.

The Gate had been giving off weird energy, or so he’d heard, and the storm dragons that were now a permanent fixture of every shift had used the pole to bleed the energy off. Definitely weird, but since Pietro had started up shifts again, the Gate had gone quiet.

Leaving him bored to think about the woman. A woman whose name he didn’t even know. Yet somehow neither he, nor his dragon, could get her off his mind.

Which meant reliving the embarrassing memory of being completely, utterly, and ruthlessly shut down at the bar when trying to talk to her. The barking laughter she’d emitted as he’d tried to start up a conversation cut deep into his metaphorical skin.

“Sorry, you’re not my type,” she’d said, not long after he’d come up to her and politely initiated conversation.

Even now, the memory still burned his cheeks. Thankfully, the music had been going and he doubted too many people had heard the rejection, but nonetheless, it stung. It had become worse since, given that he couldn’t seem to forget her.

“I suppose boring is fine too,” he mumbled, realizing Gunnar was still glancing in his direction.

“Exactly, the last thing we want is for—”

Before Gunnar could finish speaking, a flash of light burst from the Gate, catching Gunnar in the shoulder and hurling him back against the wall with tremendous force.

Pietro stared in shock as the vortex cackled with energy. The storm dragon on duty leapt for the portal in an attempt to dissipate the energy, but whatever was happening, it was too fast. Feedback burned its way through the dragon’s system, and he fell to the ground twitching.

More energy came surging through, blasting another dragon from his feet. That only left Pietro to face what came through. Another quartet of dragons guarded the entrance to the mineshaft where the Gate was located, but they were far, far above. By the time they arrived, it would be too late.

Roaring his anger, Pietro started to call upon the powers of his heritage, arming himself with twin balls of flame in each palm, while ruby-red scales formed across his skin, a coat of armor.

In the flickering light of the portal he saw the outline of a figure appear. Then, it came through, standing in front of him. Tall, slim, and coated in shiny black carapace armor, like that of a bug.

Pietro bellowed