MY DRAGON KING, MY ALPHA KING

I had been afraid only once in my life, but that was exceedingly a long time ago. Unfortunately, my fear was born from it.

The fear of fangs.

I called it fangtophobia.

Weird, I know.

Scientifically speaking, that fear didn't exist. Or to be more accurate, that nomenclature didn't exist. But my fear of fangs though, for me, breathed and lived inside my entire being. Inside my blood, my nerve endings and synapses. It had haunted me always, day and night. It gave me no rest.

I got a breather from it when I started my training in the U.S. Marine Corps, where my father—now a retired military aviator—forced me to enter. He wanted me to be just like him: a combat pilot with mastery over all types of aircraft. I loved my father, and I had great respect in him and his achievements, so without hesitation, I agreed. Plus, I always believed I was born to fly and run my own commands.

The grueling training, the scorching sun, the taste of dirt, sweat, and vomit, and of course, the mental attack I faced day after day, night after night, must have shoed my fangtophobia away. I was relieved. I never thought it would ever come back in the near future.

I fucking spoke too soon.

Back against the glass wall of my suite balcony, two mouths with their respective sets of fangs materialized in front of me. They were both under the cover of darkness. Both without faces. Both without bodies. Or at least that's what my mind registered.

Their fangs though made it clear. I was their next meal. Faced with my fear, my body shook. I was completely terrified.

The first mouth was massive. It had two roughly four-feet-long lower molars standing on opposite sides and jutting upward to reach the upper lip. Around it were rows and rows of smaller—by the creature's standard—teeth that had the same sharpness.

The second mouth was petite when compared to the former. Like a David to a Goliath times ten. But it was nonetheless deadly, with all the serrated teeth ready to puncture my skin. While the former promised a quick death down to its belly, this one promised a slow, agonizing death.

They both have eyes that were unearthly too. One had golden diamond-shaped orbs while the other glowing yellowish-red canine pools. I was more than conscious how my own greens widened at their unspoken threat.

It couldn't be! My mind stressed. There were no animals that could possess such distinct features, more so those fangs, right?

But they were real in front of me, and they were inching their way closer.

And closer.

Shit.

Having a sharp mind, I pulled myself out of my terrified state. All that training in the Corps honed my womanly reflexes, and these reflexes were the ones I decided to employ to protect me from whatever attacks these creatures had in mind.

With my right hand flying to my back, I searched for my Sig Sauer P320 handgun. Half a second later, I found it, and another half a second more, I pointed it to the baring mouths.

"Move back!" I shouted and clenched my teeth. I got a tight grip on the handle. There was no shakiness involved. Holding a gun had become a natural for me. My life-changing experiences in the Afghan regions, Vietnam mountains, and Brazil's notorious roads did that, and I was proud of it. However, nothing—not even those experiences—could prepare me for this unnatural meeting.

Still pressed up against the glass wall, my peripheral vision flitted to the side, glimpsing the enticing doorway to my suite. If only I was close, I would have been inside already and running for dear life.

Lucky me, I wasn't, so my situation at the moment was as unstable and perilous as a mosquito versus a fly swatter.

As expected, neither of these creatures followed my order. They continued forward. Closer even more. In response, I gripped the Sig tighter and fired a warning shot in between them.

No one flinched. Worse, they both growled a sound similar to that of a lion and a gator during a hunt. I wasn't a specialist in animal linguistics, so yeah, I could only imagine what those sounds meant.

Finally, they reached to the point where darkness met light. My outdoor nightlight acted as my invisible wall, and for a moment, I wished it could really protect me from them. Mayhap they were like vampires in television shows, afraid of the light. But that idea jumped over my balcony and out into the busy street of Manhattan as these creatures advanced, showing their limbs into the light.

My eyes widened even more when I saw the first one with scales. Golden scales. And the second with midnight black fur—its metallic sheen going at par with its gargantuan companion.

And then their claws. Fucking sharp ones ready to split me to the gut.

I swallowed a real saliva-filled lump in my throat. Damn it. My handgun was already a meager weapon against their limbs. How could I actually protect myself when they truly attack me with all those muscles and fangs?

Then, in a sudden twist of events, their mouth and limbs were gone, and it was now replaced with two very naked men.

My brows furrowed harder.

Damn it. This was not what I expected how my night would end...

My name is Rayna Chase, and this is my not-so-ordinary love story.

Ah, no. Scratch that.

This is not a love story.

This is a fuck-fest-bite-induced-bone-crushing-gun-slinging-sword-wielding affair of the century.