Lured In The Crimson – Mary Dublin

There, suspended from the ceiling in a bronze cage, was an honest-to-god dragon. “Puñeta,” I said under my breath. It was a small dragon, but a fucking real one all the same. Emerald scales glittered like a snake’s in the layered lighting, faint wisps of steam curling from its nostrils as it sighed like an irate cat. I’d never seen one in person. If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d have told you there was as much a chance of crossing dragons as you did a fairy.

Lately, I had been getting used to eating my words. “You look thirsty.” A sultry voice rose above the music. I felt eyes digging into my back, and tore my gaze off the cage to face her. I realized we’d been standing in front of a cocktail table—where a scantily clad woman was poised in an oversized cocktail glass behind the display. Some sort of sudsy bubbles filled the glass, filtering down through the air as she waggled her legs.

It didn’t do much to conceal how little she was wearing, and I felt heat rising to the very tips of my ears. “We’re good, thank you,” I managed. She shrugged, tugging at a lock of curly blonde hair tucked into her peacock headdress. “Well, if you change your mind…” She lifted a handful of bubbles and blew, sending several fluttering down around my face.

This time, Lee gasped, but he was looking at the drinks. “They have Gout de Diamant.” He almost looked embarrassed to have been caught in such genuine excitement. “Most expensive champagne in the world.” I fought off a chuckle; much as I tried to stay irritated with him, there was something genuine that filtered out sometimes. “I’m really more of a beer or rum guy myself.” “Clearly,” Lee said, bending down to look at the bottle stacked in the back row, away from guests’ reach. “The price is mostly absorbed from the bottle itself.

Could taste like shit for all we know.” Still, he stared. “You want to try it, don’t you?” I asked. “I can’t deny I’ve been curious.” Lee looked physically pained to decline when the showgirl offered to signal the bartender. “Another time.” We stepped to the side—grateful at least, we hadn’t been clocked as outsiders yet. I kept looking back at the dragon, to the displays, and back again.

No part of this publication may be reproduced This book and its contents may not be used for training artificial intelligence models. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Book Cover by Mary Dublin / @dublininkandimpact Editing/Proofreading by Tabitha Chandler @tabs.edits Published by Winged Fables Interior illustrations by @pangolin2b and @freesias_art (Instagram) First edition 2026 OceanofPDF.com Contents Fullpage image Fullpage image Fullpage image Fullpage image Content Warnings Fullpage image Fullpage image Fullpage image Fullpage image 1.

Sylvia 2. Jon 3. Sylvia 4. Sylvia 5. Jon 6. Sylvia 7. Sylvia 8. Sylvia 9. Jon 10. Sylvia 11. Jon 12. Sylvia 13. Jon 14. Sylvia 15. Jon 16. Sylvia 17. Jon 18. Jon 19. Sylvia 20. Sylvia 21. Sylvia 22. Sylvia 23. Sylvia 24. Jon 25. Sylvia 26. Sylvia 27. Sylvia 28. Sylvia 29. Sylvia 30. Jon Cliff Acknowledgments Connect Fullpage image Fullpage image Fullpage image Fullpage image OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com Content Warnings This fantasy story includes content that may be troubling for some readers, including: Profanity, violence, blood, brief homophobic language, kidnapping/captivity, and parental abuse.

OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com OceanofPDF.com C 1 Sylvia ome. I await you . Visible puffs of breath pulsed before my lips. The endless, snow- coated woods felt infinite as I listened beyond them. Find me. Tether me. Use me. Trembling with the insatiable urge to comply, I clenched my fists. This voice wasn’t the intrusive, tormenting whisper of the Ancients locked in my mind.

I had to strain to hear this beckon, this promise that I was worthy. My perch was high off the ground, the sturdiest branch I could find near the top of a pine tree. A late afternoon breeze whistled through the needles, and I shivered despite my winter wear—a thick cobalt blouse and freshly- patched leggings. Shit. The brief distraction made me lose my grasp on the tempting murmur, and I desperately scrambled to reclaim it.

Channeling the gemstone in Veloria had been a brief, violent indulgence, but it had altered me, sharpened my senses to find more. This gem seemed to hover on the fringes of my range, agonizing. Had Father felt like this all the time? My usual bitterness toward his gemstone obsession gave way to sympathy. Memories that had once been hazy came into sharper focus. He would absorb magic in small doses, treating it like a delicate art. Such power longed for an outlet.

Between his experiments and training an ice affinity daughter, the charged magic was put to good use—and gave him an excuse to reach for more.

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.

Book Information

• Unique ID: f8331b36cb1d84c9
• File Extension: .pdf
• File Size: 9,937,401 bytes (9.477 MB)
• Title: –
• Author: Unknown
• Pages: 327
• Language: English (en)

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• Total Words: 104,700
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