Dragon Touched


 Contents
 
 
 
 Title Page Copyright -->
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1. Chapter 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2. Chapter 2 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3. Chapter 3 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 4. Chapter 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 5. Chapter 5 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 6. Chapter 6 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 7. Chapter 7 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 8. Chapter 8 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 9. Chapter 9 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 10. Chapter 10 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 11. Chapter 11 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 12. Chapter 12 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 13. Chapter 13 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 14. Chapter 14 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 15. Chapter 15 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 16. Chapter 16 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 17. Chapter 17 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 18. Chapter 18 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 19. Chapter 19 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 20. Chapter 20 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 21. Chapter 21 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 22. Chapter 22 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 23. Chapter 23 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 24. Chapter 24 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 25. Chapter 25 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 26. Chapter 26 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 27. Chapter 27 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 28. Chapter 28 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 29. Chapter 29 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 30. Chapter 30 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 31. Chapter 31 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 32. Chapter 32 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 33. Chapter 33 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 34. Chapter 34 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 35. Chapter 35 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 36. Chapter 36 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 37. Chapter 37 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 38. Chapter 38 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 39. Chapter 39 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 40. Epilogue
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Also By Melissa Riddell
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Dragon Touched
 
 Melissa Riddell
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Copyright Dragon Touched Copyright © 2020 by Melissa Riddell Cover artwork by GetCovers This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, business establishments, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions, and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated. Published in the United States of America by: Melissa Riddell www.melissariddell.com The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content. Chapter 1 Sacha Shepperd Ninette S tupid, stupid, stupid. “I hate this dress and everyone in here.” Sacha scowled at the white wedding gown hugging her frame. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, so why did she feel like a convicted felon about to start a life-long prison sentence? Terri, the wedding planner, rolled her eyes. “Here.” She gripped Sacha’s fingers, then stepped back, giving a critical stare, lips pursed. “Stop fiddling with the material, or you’re going to wrinkle it.” Tapping a nail against her chin, Terri circled around the gown. In the mirror, Sacha stared at a woman she no longer recognized under the canvas-perfect face painting and stiff hair. She watched Terri bend across a table and scoop a dainty diamond necklace from the smooth surface. She strung it between both hands, and the diamonds caught the afternoon sun glinting from the window of Sacha’s bedroom. “Hold still.” Larue, the hairdresser for Satan himself, jerked Sacha’s head by the roots of her plastered locks. “Larue, will you please, for the love of God, leave her hair alone? It looks fine, and it’s too late to do anything, anyhow.” Too late. Her words dropped like the lid of a coffin slamming shut. “Not too late to burn this place to the ground.” Though the words were barely a whisper, Terri snorted then clasped the jewelry around Sacha’s throat. It looks like a fancy dog collar. One of the planner’s assistants, Gerald, a small, bald man wearing horn-rimmed glasses, snapped his fingers. Another person slapped an open makeup case into his waiting palm. “This just won’t do. Oh, why do brides have to make my job so much harder?” He tipped his head to the ceiling and let out a dramatic sigh before grabbing a brush and dusting her nose and cheeks. “Good Lord. Your eyes are so red, it looks like you’ve been sobbing all night.”