Dragon's Obsession (West Coast Water Dragons Book 5) Read online

  Dragon’s Obsession

  A Dragon Shifter Romance

  West Coast Water Dragons Book 5

  Kayla Wolf

  Copyright © 2020 by The Wolf Sisters Books.

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser of the book only. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form, including recording, without prior written permission from the publisher, except for brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Contents

  Chapter 1 – Shelly

  Chapter 2 – Emerson

  Chapter 3 - Shelly

  Chapter 4 - Emerson

  Chapter 5 - Shelly

  Chapter 6 - Emerson

  Chapter 7 - Shelly

  Chapter 8 - Emerson

  Chapter 9 - Shelly

  Chapter 10 - Emerson

  Chapter 11 - Shelly

  Chapter 12 - Emerson

  Chapter 13 - Shelly

  About the Author

  Books by The Wolf Sisters

  Chapter 1 – Shelly

  Shelly covered her mouth with her hand as a yawn threatened, fixing her most attentive expression on her face as she did. This meeting had been dragging on for what felt like hours, and she could honestly use a nap. It wasn’t as though any of what was being covered was relevant to her … she’d done her big project for the year. Handed it in that very afternoon, in fact—she was still feeling the glow of success and pride of a job well done. The piece would be live on the website once the copyeditor had had her way with it, and with any luck, the hits on the site would confirm what she already suspected—that the piece was one of her best yet.

  Shelly had been a wildlife photographer since she was six years old, creeping through her neighbors’ back yards, trying to snap photos of their pets without waking them. It was about the perfect combination of patience and adrenalin—the willingness to sit stock-still for hours, and the wisdom to know exactly when to break that silence to reach for the camera. And when it came to her most recent assignment, there had been more at stake than just a good photo. It had been, quite literally, life or death.

  But god, the photos were good.

  She grinned to herself, flicking through her phone under the desk as the senior editor Randall droned on about the next quarter’s projects. It had been months since she’d taken the collection of shots, but she still felt the thrill of adrenalin when she looked at them. She’d spent weeks in the wilderness, camping out, rejecting every suggestion to move camp, to head back, to give up on the family of brown bears she knew was in the area … and though she’d risked her job over it, the gamble had paid off the morning she’d woken up to find the mama bear and both of her cubs poking curiously about in the clearing her tent was set up in. If Shelly hadn’t taken the photos herself, she wouldn’t have believed they were real … and though they hadn’t been published yet, she was quietly confident of being nominated for more than a few awards.

  That’d show the coworkers who made fun of her behind her back for being weird.

  It bothered her more than it should have, that isolation. Somehow, she’d just never fit in here. When she’d been younger, she could have sworn she had more friends—fellow introverts, most of them, people more comfortable reading a book than talking to another human being. But they’d gotten on well, in their way … that was, until she had to leave them behind. She was from Colorado originally, but she’d long lost touch with people in her home state, and with her parents gone, there was no reason left to even visit. She’d moved all over the country in pursuit of work in an industry that was all competition for very few jobs. It didn’t help that these days any jerk with a decent cellphone camera thought they could do her job. Well, no jerk with a cellphone could get the kinds of photos she’d gotten of that family of bears. That had been … that had been fate.

  She adored her job, for all of its trials and tribulations. And a good thing, too, that that love hadn’t faltered over the years … because being a wildlife photographer had cost her in ways she thought about sometimes, late at night. She hadn’t been there when her dad had died, for a start. She’d only been with her mother for a couple of weeks before she’d gone, too—and she’d had to move straight on after the funeral. And of course, it went without saying that her lifestyle didn’t lend itself to love or romance. She was in her late thirties now—not technically too late to start a family, but given that there wasn’t so much as a glimpse of a man on the horizon, it wasn’t looking likely. And how could she afford the time off?

  Her work was her life, her partner, her family. All the family she needed. But that didn’t mean these long, boring meetings didn’t make her want to crawl out of her skin …

  ”Shelly?”

  ”Huh?”

  A titter of amusement went up at the table, and Shelly felt her face burning. An unfortunate habit, and one she couldn’t get rid of … and her pale skin always showed the slightest blush as bright as you could imagine. It was her Irish heritage, her mother had always told her when she’d come in from five minutes outside with a fierce sunburn—her Irish ancestors had been as pale as she was. She’d hoped that after a career as a wildlife photographer, she might’ve picked up a hint of a tan, but her skin remained stubbornly pale. And prone to blushing when provoked—which she often was.

  ”Daydreaming about bears again?” Janet smirked at her from down the table, pitching her voice just low enough not to be heard. Janet was a fellow journalist—simultaneously, the closest thing Shelly had to a work friend and her fiercest rival. Shelly shot her a dark look but her tongue remained stubbornly dumb when she tried to reach for a witty comeback. Later that night, she was sure, she’d think of a hundred witty rejoinders that would have absolutely devastated Janet … but right now, she had absolutely nothing. So she just turned back to Randall, who was standing at the head of the table with one eyebrow raised. Randall, the site’s senior editor—a bulldog of a man who’d led the publication from strength to strength, even in an era where journalism was having a hard time navigating the fresh challenges of the Internet age. She liked him a lot … and she didn’t like getting that raised-eyebrow look from him.

  ”It’s been a long day for all of us,” he said dryly, and that was strong enough a rejoinder to set Shelly’s face burning again. “For those who might have missed it, we’ve got a very interesting offer for a piece on a very rare species of Californian albatross.”

  Shelly had leaned forward—but she sat back again immediately as Randall finished the sentence, only barely suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. Another bird story. Fantastic. Sure, the birdwatching community was a big part of the fanbase that kept them online, and she understood—at least in theory—that they needed to keep a steady stream of fresh bird content pouring onto the site … but god, she couldn’t think of anything less interesting than an article about birds.

  ”There have been recent sightings of the albatross, confirmed sightings, from a trusted contact with whom we have a long-standing relationship,” Randall continued. Why was he looking at her so closely? She didn’t do bird stories. She sat forward though, still feeling embarrassed about having been caught daydreaming. “Prior to these recent sightings on a peninsula on the northern Californian coast, the albatross had been thought to have been extinct since the nineteenth century. Naturally, our readers are rapt.”

&nbs
p; ”I’m sure,” Shelly said, blinking a little. Randall was still addressing all of this to her instead of whoever it was he was going to be sending to check out this bird. Why?

  ”Now, usually, this would be Neil’s territory, well and truly. But he’s out on paternity leave starting next week, and this assignment’s going to require at least a couple of weeks of fieldwork. Just about everyone’s on assignment already, which leaves …”

  Shelly looked behind her. Another titter of amusement went up at the table, but this time she was too shocked to be embarrassed. “What? Birds? Randall, you know I’m not a bird person—”

  ”You’ve got it,” Randall said, raising an eyebrow. “If you can get the kind of shots you got of that family of bears, you can snap a few pictures of a nesting albatross. I have every confidence.”

  ”But birdwatching’s so boring,” Shelly blurted out—then froze, biting hard on her lip. That had been inappropriate, she could tell by the looks on the faces of the people sitting opposite from her. “I mean—they’re just—Randall, it’s not my thing. Are you sure there’s nobody else who can take on this job?”

  ”You do such promising work,” Randall said dryly. Nothing tended to phase the guy—but she could tell she was getting on his nerves, something that was sending prickles of apprehension into the pit of her stomach. She’d already pushed this too far. “That series on those bears … that was great work. Senior reporter caliber.”

  Shelly took a sharp breath. It was no secret that she’d been gunning for that position for years—a secure position, her pick of assignments, and a hefty pay rise besides. But the competition was fierce. And Randall knew it—she could tell by the gleam in his eye as he looked at her.

  ”If you can prove you’re a team player,” he said, delivering the final blow. Shelly shut her eyes for a moment, fighting her own treacherous facial expressions.

  ”Randall—I don’t know the first thing about birdwatching. I’ll need a week just to do the research. Neil knows everything about this stuff. He’s going to be furious you gave it to me instead of waiting for him to get back from leave—”

  ”By the time he gets back, the nesting season will be over,” Randall explained patiently. “And every other wildlife magazine on the planet will have gotten wind of the discovery. This is a now-or-never kind of situation, Shelly. I wouldn’t be sending you if I didn’t believe you could do it. Besides, you don’t need much info. Our contact’s a local expert—Neil says he’s basically a world-leading expert in the wildlife of northern California, even though he doesn’t have any formal qualifications. He’ll do all the groundwork, find the bird, set up the shot … and tell you everything you need to know about the history of the species.”

  ”Sounds like a walk in the park,” Janet said under her breath, giving Shelly a sickly sweet smile. “Plus, a free trip to the Californian coastline this time of year?”

  ”If you’re sure,” Shelly said through gritted teeth, trying to ignore Janet’s attempts to wind her up. “I guess I can—go photograph some seagulls.”

  ”Albatrosses,” Randall corrected her. “Good. Glad that’s sorted. I’ll send through Emerson’s details.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Emerson? He goes by his last name?”

  ”It’s his first name. Now—moving on—”

  Shelly leaned back in her seat, keeping half an eye on the rest of the meeting as her heart sank into her toes. What a rollercoaster today had been. From the biggest triumph of her recent career … to the worst assignment she’d gotten in years. A super-rare albatross. She clicked on the brief Randall had flicked through to her work email on her phone while the meeting dragged on, fighting the urge to groan as she saw the description. He wanted a series. Not just a one-off—a full series. It seemed there was more to the albatross than just being a rare bird—it had significance in local folklore and was rumored to have magical powers.

  Great. Not just a regular boring bird … a magical boring bird. How quickly could she get this done and get out of there? The assignment allowed for a full month on the peninsula, with the potential to extend that stay if necessary. Shelly shuddered at the very thought. Camping in the wilderness for a month on the off-chance of seeing a family of bears? Magical. Absolutely ideal. Camping in the wilderness for a month to see some stupid bird and its nest? For the first time in her long career, Shelly gave serious thought to the prospect of quitting her job.

  Her despondent mood followed her well into the afternoon. What had previously been a very good day was now a very bad one. Randall wanted her to get going as soon as possible—that meant the next day, provided there was nothing stopping her. It occurred to her to make up some excuse as to why she couldn’t go … but what could she say? It was common knowledge that she had no family in this city, no real friends outside of work (or inside of work, for that matter, but that was a separate issue) … what could be stopping her from doing this job?

  Besides … it was better to get it out of the way, she decided, tabbing over to an airline website and beginning the process of making inquiries. If you were willing to take a more circuitous route, you could usually get some pretty good last-minute deals, especially this time of year, the offseason for tourism to California. She booked her flight for the following day with her work credit card, feeling a sinking feeling as the confirmation email came through and made her phone buzz in her pocket. Well, that was that. The next month of her life, all organized. Stuck on some peninsula in the middle of nowhere with a guy with a stupid name.

  Emerson, was it? Hadn’t he been a poet or something? She could just picture the kind of guy who’d be into birds. With a name like Emerson, he’d probably been born in the sixties with hippies for parents. An image came to mind—a hunched old guy with a pair of thick spectacles and a set of binoculars in one hand. She couldn’t help but giggle to herself a little … before the reality of the situation set in again. From the brief Randall had sent her, she was going to be spending a lot of time with this Emerson guy. They might even be camping together—would they have to share a tent? Bored reporter and local bird nerd … god, how was she going to survive this?

  “Looking forward to California? You better pack a bathing suit.” That familiar voice was Janet’s. Trust her to come by to gloat. Shelly gritted her teeth, glancing up at her friend. Janet was … infuriating. She seemed to have received every single gene that Shelly had missed out on, somehow. Where Shelly a little plumper than she liked, Janet was tall and willowy. Where Shelly had pale skin and blonde hair that was always getting in her way somehow, Janet had sleek, dark hair that fell effortlessly around her shoulders like a shampoo commercial. But what Shelly really envied about Janet were her social skills. Her grace, her charisma. No matter what happened, she always seemed to know just what to say. Everyone loved her—she was always the life of the office party, always surrounded by people who just adored her. She didn’t even have to be good at her job—she just exuded confidence.

  And though Shelly had a lot of confidence in her work and in her skill as a reporter and a photographer, the same just couldn’t be said for how she was with people. Maybe that was why she was getting so bent out of shape about this Emerson guy … he was just one more stranger who was going to find her awkward and uncomfortable to be around.

  Some of her thoughts must have shown on her face because Janet’s teasing expression gave way to one of sincere concern. God—even worse. Now she was taking pity on her. Now she was going to be nice. Janet’s nice act was infuriating. Even though Shelly knew it was an act, there was just something about those deep brown eyes that always tricked her into warming up to the woman. It was half the reason they were still friends—despite all the nasty little snide comments that Janet was so fond of making when she wasn’t being nice.

  ”Come on, babe. It’s not that bad, is it? I know birds aren’t your thing, but—”

  ”Are they anyone’s thing?” Shelly said irritably, grateful enough for the opportunity Janet was giving her
to vent to forgive and forget the little comments she’d made in the meeting. “Aside from birdwatchers, of course. Bunch of freaks. And that’s coming from me,” she added. Self-deprecation was a good way to get Janet on side … sure enough, the woman chuckled.

  ”You’re not a freak. You’re just … passionate.”

  ”Yeah, well. I bet this birdwatcher they’re setting me up with is twice as ‘passionate’ as I am,” she grumbled, clicking through from the brief onto the website of the place she’d be staying on the peninsula. Janet looked at it over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow.

  ”Oh! It’s cute. Eco-tourism’s really big at the moment.”

  They were looking at a website for a place that claimed to be an eco-resort—an environmentally friendly and completely sustainable holiday destination boasting ocean views as well as wildlife treks. Shelly had to admit … it was a beautiful place. “At least the scenery will be nice,” she admitted grudgingly. “Don’t suppose there’s anything interesting living in those trees, though.”

  ”I wouldn’t be too sure of that.” Janet had leaned over and taken her mouse, clicking through to a page marked ‘Staff’. Shelly’s eyes widened a little as Janet scrolled past a few photos.

  ”Holy shit. Is this entire resort staffed by models?” There were only seven staff members listed, and six of them were well-tanned men with brilliant smiles whose photos looked more like Hollywood headshots than the staff list of an eco-tourist resort.

  ”What did you say the birdwatcher’s name was? Emerson?”

  ”No way,” Shelly breathed, staring at the picture that Janet had just clicked ‘enlarge’ on. Her image of Emerson had been completely off. The man on the screen in front of her was her age, if not younger—and he was far from the image of a fussy old shut-in with a pair of binoculars. Bright blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, and a tangle of sun-kissed hair that fell almost to his shoulders … but it was the smile that got her. There was something about it … something whimsical, something knowing. As though he was in on a joke that he was just about to explain … “He looks like a movie star. No way is this guy into birds.”