My Lady of Bones Read online

  My Lady of Bones

  The Dragons of Nagon - Book 6

  Written by Michael Clement

  http://www.michaelclement.me

  https://facebook.com/MichaelClementAuthor

  Cover Design by BRoseDesignz

  Copyright © https://www.brosedesignz.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this document may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without prior written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  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.

  All Rights Reserved

  Copyright © 2019 Goldenfire Media, LLC

  Books written by Michael Clement

  The Goblin King

  Into the Darkness

  Blood of the Fae

  Swallow the Bones

  Bury the Ashes Deep

  Midnight’s Broken Promise

  Touch Me Bloody

  Take Another Bite

  The Dragons of Nagon

  Conquering Her Darkness

  Master No More

  Broken By Pride

  The Bloody Road to Heaven

  The Coldness Within

  My Lady of Bones

  Lost in the Dark

  Murdering Her Light

  Blood in the Sky

  Tormented Desires

  Other Novels

  Blood Covered Kisses

  Awakening Her Beast

  Quote

  Always know who you are… it is your greatest strength.

  Maxwell Torant

  Emperor of Nagon

  Contact Links

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  My website

  Author Notes

  Welcome to the next book in “The Dragons of Nagon.” This book took me a long time to write, but I believe that it turned out really well. I wanted a new, entrance into the series, for new readers. And, the book had to engage my existing fans.

  This book starts a new story arc. War has ravaged Nagon. Now, peace is so close. But, first, what and who the Empire will become, must be decided.

  If you are enjoying this series or any of my other books, please consider joining my newsletter . Don’t worry about me flooding your inbox with email. I tend to spend most of my time writing, and very little promoting my works. It is a failure of many authors. We just have a super hard time leaving the worlds that we create to interact with this one. Lol.

  Speaking of advertising, reviews on Amazon and Goodreads are very important to independent authors like me. It is one of the only ways that Amazon will introduce my stories to others. A review only takes a few minutes, and it makes a major difference. So, please tell other people what you like, and dislike about my books. It is the only way that I will know if you dislike something. Focusing on what my readers like is very important to me. Enough said about that.

  Go, and enjoy Maxwell’s next adventure :)

  - 1 -

  “Who are you?” I whispered at the mirror.

  A woman stared back at me. She had pale white skin and dark black hair the color of soot. Her soft brown eyes blinked at me in confusion.

  She wasn’t my type. Her hips were too small, and so were her breasts. I had always told the women in my life that small breasts were alright.

  They’re not. Bigger is better.

  She was dressed in yellow see-through silk that allowed me to view everything in the soft glow of the morning sun.

  The woman, more of a girl really, didn’t answer me. She couldn’t have been more than twenty-three, no more than twenty-five.

  I raised my hand to poke her through the mirror.

  Instead, I touched the glass.

  Raising my hand, I looked at it.

  Instead of a man’s large hand with a smattering of brown hair and big knuckles, a woman’s softer skin greeted my eyes. Her nails were polished and painted a delicate pink on only the tips. Her hand seemed smaller than mine…

  My mind shivered and quaked, as I looked at my other hand.

  It matched the woman’s hand as well. On the back of it was ebony henna tattoos. They looked delicate and graceful with elegant lines and swirls.

  Beautiful, my mind whispered, as I followed the tattoos up her arms.

  “What?” I stammered as I looked down at her small breasts.

  I looked back in the mirror in confusion. A second line of henna tattoos ran from her throat down past the woman’s navel, ending just above a tastefully manicured line of pubic hair.

  Her breasts looked bigger on my chest.

  My chest?

  I touched both of them.

  Soft yet hard and unyielding. Firm and perky without the need for a bra. Her nipples were erect in the coolness of the morning.

  They were a delicious shade of pale pink, unstained by motherhood.

  My mind wobbled again.

  Impossible.

  I was a man; a Dragon-Lord, Emperor of Nagon.

  I stared at her in shock now.

  Her mouth gaped open, and our breathing matched.

  Terror gripped my soul. I felt cold and clammy. My hands and arms began to shake. I could hear my heart… her heart… pounding frantically in our chest.

  I began to hyperventilate, unable to catch my breath.

  Even her breathing sounded feminine.

  Panic roared over me when I realized that my dragon--my inner soul spirit--was gone as well.

  I was alone, for the first time since I was thirteen, in my body.

  Shaking, I held my breath, forcing my breathing to slow. I began to see stars--and my chest spasmed--but I held on until I could let a breath out normally.

  It didn’t work. I could still feel her body spasming in terror.

  I held my breath again, determined to regain control.

  Looking around, I saw that she… I… was sitting on a bed covered in pink pillows. Huge cushions lay all around me. They felt silky and soft, and they had the most lovely tassels.

  Lovely?

  My mind cringed at that word. I didn’t think tassels were lovely, any more than pink was a fitting color for a man.

  The room was vast and airy. A balcony was open in front of the bed, letting in the smell of the sea. Anxiety rippled through me when a discordant thought tore through my mind. In a panic, I slid my hand down… And, discovered female hair, and… parts.

  My favorite organ was gone.

  A low moan escaped my lips. Terror clamped down on my soul when I realized, I didn’t even know my name.

  I was a man… I just knew I was. I had memories of beautiful women that I had married--dozens of them--if not more. Mixed up visions of all of them mashed together in my mind... a tiny woman with dark hair and blue highlights; another with deep green eyes that I could drown in, and still a third with soft lips, and crimson hair tickled my thoughts.

  I was som
eone, but who?

  My name started with an M... I was sure of it. The word was right on the tip of my tongue, but it just wouldn’t come.

  I slowly crawled off of the bed, placing my slippered foot on the thick carpeting that encircled the massive bed. The bedframe was big enough for dozens of people to have sex on it altogether, at the same time. Rings were attached to the bed poles for just that purpose, and more mirrors covered its ceiling.

  I touched one of the rings…

  Suddenly, I saw a vision of myself, looking up at a handsome blonde man, as he tied my hands to the ring...

  “Oh God,” I whispered. He had been…

  I could barely concentrate.

  I had to hold my breath again.

  The room smelled of sex and perfume.

  And, so did I.

  I still felt his fingers on my skin. After he had tied me to the bedpost, his fingers had caressed and massaged every part of my body. He…

  Aubin.

  His name was Aubin.

  Memories of his firm, muscular abs wrinkled through my mind, tormenting it.

  My new--female organ--grew warm, thinking about him.

  His muscular back filled my thoughts, as I watched him in a mirror across the room. Placed there so that his victim could see her…

  Master.

  That word shocked me.

  In my ears… I heard the crack as his hand smacked my already pink ass.

  A tremor of lust tore through me when I heard the chains rattling in my thoughts.

  Shuddering, I forced those memories to recede. I had to think. I needed to know who I was.

  I still felt warm and wet, in my... what was the right name for it?... Mother had called it…

  Mother. Her name made my mind spasm. I grabbed the bed pole as vicious memories poured into my soul.

  I remembered her.

  She had ordered.... the death of Rose. My sister’s terrified voice overwhelmed my thoughts. I remembered her screaming as the giant ate her face, swallowing her whole...

  I gagged.

  Crunch.

  Crunch.

  Crunch.

  Then… a deep gulp, as he swallowed her down.

  I could still see her feet quivering in the corners of his mouth.

  Sinking to my knees, I wondered if I had gone crazy.

  Womanhood... that is what Mother called it. Nothing vulgar, like pussy or snatch. Father had always called it Mother’s fuck-hole when she couldn’t hear him.

  They had hated one another… I was sure of it.

  Dozens of words describing my new female parts filled my mind, each phrase was more raw and indecent than the last; vertical smile, snapper, honey pot, cat’s paw, twat… poontang.

  I shuddered, hating most of them, as I forced my mind to focus.

  I touched myself... there... again.

  It felt real.

  And… shaved.

  It was so soft.

  My mind shivered, as a sliver of pleasure rippled through my body.

  And… sensitive.

  “How?” I whispered, even though no one else was in the room.

  I had lost my mind.

  Crawling over to the mirror. I stared at my reflection.

  Her reflection.

  She had strong arms with beautiful, not vulgar muscles. The woman was shaped like a greyhound and not a bear with deliberately softened muscle tone, but she wasn’t muscular. A thin waist complemented her proportions.

  Henna tattoos covered the back of both of her hands, and ran down her chest, from chin to… her womanhood. More tattoos covered the back of her feet, and a smudged one was prominently displayed on her forehead.

  “Who are you?” I asked, hoping that she would answer me this time.

  I needed to wake up from this much to real nightmare.

  Smudged.

  The rune was smudged.

  I spat on my hand and tried to smear the lines on the back of my left hand. It didn’t work. Instead, I felt tingles of a…

  Magic.

  - 2 -

  I remembered magic.

  Mother had taught it to me as a child.

  Leaning forward, I studied the blurred mark on my forehead, just above my eyes.

  It looked like the rune for…

  “What was it?” I murmured.

  I traced the lines that remained.

  In my head, I heard Mother screaming at me to name that symbol.

  She screamed a lot.

  Usually, her shrieking was followed by a slap, a pinch, or even a good spanking.

  Mother loved to spank.

  That thought made me feel sick when I remembered Aubin and his large… hands.

  Suddenly, from the deep recesses of my mind, a word popped into my head… Maraka.

  “You were always so stupid,” Mother hissed at me from my dreams.

  Maraka was the rune’s name, I gleefully remembered.

  It meant… forget.

  I sat back on my haunches in shock. My mind had been enchanted, and my spirit locked away from me.

  Someone… Mother… had made me forget...

  Everything.

  “Who are you?” I whispered, afraid of the answer.

  “MAXWELL…” a raven hissed at me from inside of its cage.

  Shrieking in a high-pitched female voice, I threw myself to the side, burying my body beneath all the pink pillows.

  I didn’t shriek, my mind screamed, as that word… Maxwell... whirled through my thoughts.

  I peeked out from behind my plush protections, keeping most of my body covered.

  The raven was watching me intently.

  “I see you,” it hissed. “You moron. You’re even stupider as a woman.”

  “What are you?” I asked.

  But, that name it had whispered. It reverberated through my head, refusing to let me concentrate.

  Maxwell.

  It felt… right.

  “I’m your sister,” it cawed. “I’ve been trapped…”

  I threw a pillow at the cage, hitting it squarely on the side. It collapsed onto the floor with a clanging crash.

  “Go away!” I moaned. Birds didn’t talk.

  “You fucking idiot!” the raven cursed at me, as it clawed to get out of the cage. “YOU mother-fucking, stupid, retarded, witless, moron!”

  I grabbed a blanket and scrambled towards it.

  Before I could cover the cage, the monster got out.

  I threw the blanket at the bird but failed to cover the beast. It was simply too fast. The raven launched itself into the air, flying up to the dark chandeliers above me.

  Chandeliers covered in candle wax... Enough to make hundreds of candles.

  “Shoo!” I screamed, terrified of the talking demon.

  “I’m Rose, you idiot!” it shrieked.

  Rose.

  That name… I had heard it before.

  “You’re dead,” I gasped, falling to my knees. “You died. It ate you...”

  “Finally, she is sane,” it croaked.

  “I’m not a she,” I replied, unsure that the demon was really Rose.

  The crow cawed dismissively. “If you are not a she… then you have had very interesting, but inappropriate sex, hundreds of times. I always suspected that you would enjoy being fucked in the ass… moron.”

  Her laughter rained down on my head.

  “Maraka,” I whispered, trying to forget, as I rubbed the smudged rune. I didn’t want to remember a talking crow that said it was my sister or the sex it said that I had.

  With men.

  Hundreds of time.

  Aubin’s strong hands held me as he slid in and out...

  My mind shivered, locked between delight… and disgust.

  I didn’t have sex with men.

  It… bothered me.

  Then, I remembered him inside of me, as I grasped the bed pole, shrieking in pleasure.