Finding His Mate

Finding His Mate Colleen Delaney Copyright © 2023 by Colleen Delaney All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. To Jen You read a mess of a novella and made me believe I could turn it into a book. Thank you. Table of Contents: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Epilogue Chapter 1 Tella’s legs were on the verge of collapse, but she couldn’t stop running. She needed to get away, to put as much distance as possible between herself and the torture that awaited her in Balaur if she was caught. She stumbled over the rocky landscape, wishing there was somewhere, anywhere, she could rest safely. But even if some heavy forest and a warm cabin appeared out of nowhere, she couldn’t risk it. Not until there was a wall between her body and Balaur. She’d left deep in the night, once the dragons had retired with full bellies and their brides by their sides, but this close to midwinter, it had only been six hours since the sun had risen, and the horizon already set to claim the light. She hoped the revelry of the night before meant no one noticed her missing yet. The dragons could sleep all day after a party such as that. And once someone noticed her absence, it would take time to search the bowels of the keep, as humans were known for hiding when they could. Tella slowed to a hobble, rubbing her side. A cramp was forming beneath her rib cage and threatening to bring her to a halt. Her stomach twisted, protesting the lack of food and water. Even before escaping, Tella hadn’t eaten in three or four days. She couldn’t really be sure how long ago she’d found that half-rotten apple. And the freezing rain yesterday had provided only two small handfuls of liquid when she dared to stop. She pushed on, her thigh muscles seizing, her head pounding. Her body screamed for something: food, water, rest, all things she couldn’t risk searching for. The fear of being caught was the only thing keeping Tella moving. The adrenaline of knowing she might make it. A year earlier, Massie had run away. After two days of searching, Tella was sure she’d made it, sure that Massie was somewhere else, safe and free, forever rid of the dragons. Then, they’d found her tucked under a thicket with a broken ankle. Massie was traded to a western clan, a place rumored to be worse than Balaur. Tella shivered thinking of a place worse than Balaur. The sun set, and twilight quickly turned to full night, with a biting wind. Tella shoved her hands under her shirt but kept moving. Her feet were freezing. At this point, she wasn’t sure if her toes were permanently damaged. Or even still attached to her feet. She couldn’t run anymore, even if her feet still worked. The moon shed some light on the ground, but it was uneven and rocky, a terrible, blank landscape that felt like inevitable death. She shook her head and tried to conjure up some thought of warmth, but the last years had none of that. Instead, she focused on everything that could have gone right. If Cade was lazy, took his time with his meals, fucked one of his wives, checked on his hoard before his pets, met with other dragons…he might not report her missing for another hour. Maybe he wouldn’t even come to them today. She could make it. Tella could make it out of Dragon Territory. An hour later, the border was in sight, glinting in the moonlight; a wall of silver on her side and whatever repelled dragons coating the other. Tella scrambled to the wall, tripping as she ran with everything she had left, her arms hanging heavy at her sides. She skidded to a stop and pressed her hands against the cool metal. It was taller than she imagined, ten feet at least, and smooth. There was nowhere for her to grip or stick her feet to haul her body over it. After all, a wall is meant to keep people from crossing. She searched wildly for an opening, a checkpoint she could beg entrance, somewhere that could get her to the other side. There was nothing but an old oak tree in the distance, gnarled and half-dead, with a branch hanging over the wall. That was it. If she could climb the tree and shimmy out on the branch, she might be able to lower herself to the ground. She limped towards it, trailing her hand against the wall. It was her savior, and she worried if she let go, it would disappear. What felt like ages later, she made it to the tree, taking only a moment to catch her breath. Tella rubbed her hands together and flexed her fingers a few times to circulate her blood. Then, she grasped at the bark, her palms scraping and bleeding where the wood was sharp. She lifted her foot to find purchase against the trunk, but her shoes were worn almost through the soles and slipped against the tree. “Damnit,” she hissed. She should have stolen a pair of boots, but that would have taken time. A shriek in the distance shook her to her bones. The dragons were coming. Tella choked back a sob. She was so close. She pulled off her shoes and threw them over the wall, not checking to see if they actually made it. She mustered all her strength and scrambled up the tree, finding a power she thought lost, then pulled herself to the lowest branch that hung over the wall. She peeked across; the other side of the wall was bronze,