Billionaire Dragon King’s Rejected Mate (Alpha Dragon Kings of Silver Peaks #4)

Chapter 1

Chance

Chance Parelli stood alone in the quiet of his corner office long before the city below had properly awakened.

The pale Florida morning stretched across the Gulf waters visible through the wide windows of the TimeOff headquarters tower and shone across the polished floors in streaks that slowly crept toward his desk where he sat reading a letter with an expression that had turned to stone long before he reached the final line.

The paper itself was thick and expensive, the kind reserved for royal correspondence, its crest pressed into the corner in silver foil that glinted each time the sunlight shifted, and though the words had been written in the flowing, deliberate script of King Lucas of Crystafalls, Chance did not need to read them again to feel their weight press against the carefully constructed life he had spent the last decade building one decision at a time.

Your father grows more unstable by the day. Noriveille cannot withstand his temper much longer. The council believes only you can restore order. You must return.

The signature beneath it might as well have been a chain being dragged back across the ocean.

Chance stared at Lucas’s signature for several long seconds without moving.

His jaw tightened as memories he had buried years ago clawed to the surface of his mind.

The towering stone halls that echoed with arguments, frightened servants who whispered in corners, and the unpredictable fury of his own father, King Gunner, that could turn an ordinary council meeting into a battlefield of shattered glass and frightened guards.

For most of his life he had been Prince Chauncey of Noriveille, heir to a kingdom whose name carried expectation, duty, and the suffocating certainty that one day he would inherit a throne whether he wanted it or not. A throne known mostly for its cruelty and madness.

But ten years ago, he had walked away from all of it.

He had crossed the ocean, built a company from the ground up, and reshaped himself piece by careful piece until the man the world knew, Chance Parelli, founder and CEO of TimeOff Entertainment, had no obvious connection to the prince who had vanished from Noriveille without warning.

No one here knew the truth. Not his executives, not the investors who trusted him with billions, and not the media who occasionally tried to coax him into interviews he always avoided.

To the business world, he was simply a private, brilliant entrepreneur who preferred to stay invisible behind the scenes while his leadership team and brilliant marketing department handled the spotlight.

And he intended to keep it that way.

The letter crinkled sharply as his fingers tightened around it.

“No,” he muttered under his breath, the word leaving him in a quiet growl that vibrated faintly in his chest, where the dragon that shared his soul stirred in restless agreement.

Chance stood abruptly, crushing the paper into a tight ball before tossing it across the office, where it bounced once off the far wall and dropped neatly into the wastebasket beside the door.

His homeland, his father, the crown that had once waited for him all belonged to a life he had already buried.

He checked the time on his watch, exhaled slowly, and forced his thoughts away from Noriveille.

Chance Parelli had a business to run and Prince Chauncey did not exist anymore.

He turned away from the trash can as though the matter were settled and reached for his suit jacket draped over the chair.

He needed to run up to his apartment on the top floor of the building to get ready.

Today there was a ribbon-cutting ceremony on the outskirts of Tampa.

Normally he would have let one of his executives handle it like he did most acquisitions because public appearances were rarely his preference.

But this was the first waterpark he, or his company, had built from the ground up, so he wanted to attend personally.

This new park was a major addition to the company’s growing Florida portfolio, and the city officials had been insistent that the ribbon-cutting was necessary.

Despite his normal CEO attire of expensive suits and ties, shorts and a T-shirt were more appropriate for the day, especially since he planned on acting as one of his executives and not as the CEO.

There were very few photographs of him, by choice, so no one would be any the wiser.

And no one, including his staff, would expect him to show up with the look of a tourist anxious to get wet.

He hurried toward the elevator, his thoughts already on sun and fun. Loosening up once in a while was good for the soul.

The Tampa sun blazed by mid-morning and the air was heavy with the warm scent of chlorine and sunscreen as families gathered outside the towering entrance gates of the newly renovated waterpark.

Bright banners snapped in the breeze and a walkway had been set up in front of a small stage set up for the ceremony.

Chance walked over to where his employees had gathered off to the side, most he knew, some he didn’t. He made a mental note to spend a little time and get to know the new hires as he walked up to his marketing director, Celia Ramirez.

“Ribbon cutting at eleven sharp,” she muttered and tapped notes into her phone. “Speech from Chance at eleven-oh-five, press photos at eleven-ten…”

“Morning.” He laughed when Celia jumped. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She looked up at him and blinked.

He resisted the urge to laugh again. He knew he threw her with his appearance, from his faded board shorts to a peachy-colored T-shirt and flip-flops. His sunglasses hung around his neck and his usually perfect hair was purposely mussed. The other staff members stood with their mouths gaping.

Celia stared. “…Sir? Did… your apartment get burglarized or something?”

“Nope.”

“You’re the CEO of a multibillion-dollar company,” she said slowly. “You’re supposed to be in a suit.”

“I know.”

“You’re giving a speech to the press.”

“No, I’m not.”

Celia’s eyebrows lifted.

Chance leaned a little closer and lowered his voice conspiratorially. “New plan. You are.”

Celia blinked again. “Me?”

“You’re the marketing director,” he said easily. “You’ve been the one working with the city council, the contractors, the sponsors… you actually know what you’re talking about.”

“But that’s…” she gestured helplessly toward the stage “...that’s your job.”

He shook his head. “Today I’m just another employee.”

Celia looked down at the flip-flops. “Never in my career did I think I’d see you wearing those. You’re very committed to…whatever this is.”

Chance chuckled. “I want to walk around, talk to people, see the place the way our staff does. No speeches, no cameras, no predisposed respect.” He pointed a finger at her. “And definitely no ‘sir.’”

She sighed. “You realize half the press came because you’re supposed to be here.”

“They don’t know me, and they’ll still get a story,” he said cheerfully. “Just with you in it.”

Celia opened her mouth to protest again but Chance put a finger to her lips before he clapped his hands.

“Alright, everybody!”

The staff gathered closer. A few exchanged amused glances.

Chance spread his arms. “Today is a big day for the company. Baytopia is the largest project TimeOff has opened in Florida, and a lot of you worked your tails off to make it happen.”

Applause and cheers rippled through the group.

Chance nodded toward Celia. “So for the ribbon cutting this morning, the face of the company will be our marketing director, Celia Ramirez.”

Celia looked like she might pass out.

“And one more thing. For the rest of the day…” he pointed down at his flip-flops, “…I am not the CEO.”

The group laughed.

“I’m just Chance, and I’d prefer it if you didn’t say my name very often. And absolutely no titles, no Mr. Parelli, no boss talk. If you see me in line for the slides, treat me like any other person.”

“What do we call you?” Celia asked.

He smiled. It felt good to just enjoy himself. “I dunno. Dude. Hey you. Buddy.”

Laughter broke out. Someone called out, “Does that mean we can dunk you in the wave pool?”

Chance shrugged. “If you can catch me.” Laughter rolled again. “So that’s the rule. Celia runs the show today.”

He glanced at her with a mischievous smile. “And if anyone blows my cover, I will personally make your life miserable.”

A chorus of mock groans followed, and Celia just stared at him.

“You cannot just ambush me like that.”

“Sure, I can.”

“You just handed me a press conference.”

“You’re going to crush it.”

She pointed at his flip-flops. “And you’re going to spend the day pretending you’re one of the workers?”

Chance adjusted his sunglasses and started backing away toward the entrance gates. “Not pretending.” He winked. “Research.”

When the moment came, Chance stood amongst his employees and several members of his executive team, his posture relaxed but his attention moving constantly over the crowd in the quiet, instinctive way that had never quite left him after growing up in royal courts where every smile might hide a motive.

Applause rippled through the gathered spectators as Celia’s speech concluded and the mayor handed her an oversized pair of ceremonial scissors.

The crowd cheered as she cut the ribbon and the gates behind them slowly swung open to reveal the twisting slides and sparkling pools beyond.

The official part of the event dissolved into laughter, music, and the eager rush of visitors pouring inside, while executives moved off to speak with reporters and city officials.

Chance stepped away from his staff with intentions to slip quietly into the park as nothing more than a guest. And that was when he saw her.

She stood a short distance away near one of the decorative fountains, talking with a member of his marketing team while adjusting the sleeve of her TimeOff staff shirt.

One of the members of his staff that he didn’t recognize.

Her dark hair was pulled into a loose ponytail that shifted when she laughed at something the other woman said.

For a moment Chance noticed only the easy warmth of her smile and the confident way she held herself.

But then as she reached down to grab a clipboard from the fountain ledge, the motion twisted her arm just enough to reveal the tattoo curled along the inside of her wrist. He froze and every bit of ease and relaxation he had appreciated disappeared in a flash.

It was a dragon.

Its wings were half spread, its body winding in a graceful arc across her skin, but it was the eyes that stopped him cold. Not inked in some random artistic flourish, but the exact bright, icy blue that marked a very specific bloodline in the Iskara Northlands.

Chance felt the recognition strike him at the exact same instant that the creature sleeping beneath his ribs exploded awake.

His dragon surged forward with such sudden intensity that the breath caught in his lungs, a powerful instinct roaring through his veins like wildfire as every ancient piece of his nature locked onto the woman in front of him with a certainty older than kingdoms.

Mine.

The word reverberated through him, fierce and undeniable.

Mate.

The realization hit him with the force of a collapsing mountain.

Chance took a slow step closer; his eyes fixed on the small tattoo that had just shattered the careful distance he had placed between himself and his past. The magic in his blood recognized it the same way a compass recognized north.

His mate was standing ten feet away beside a fountain at a Florida waterpark. For the briefest moment, something dangerously close to hope flickered through him.

But it vanished almost instantly beneath the crushing weight of reality.

A mate meant connection. And truth.

A bond that could not exist without revealing exactly who he truly was. The fragile life he had spent ten years constructing would collapse overnight.

His dragon pushed forward again, restless and possessive, urging him to close the distance and claim what fate had placed in front of him.

Chance forced it back with iron control.

He watched her laugh again, unaware that the man standing a few yards away had just recognized her as the one person in the world destined to belong to him.

Which was precisely why he could never allow it.

His jaw tightened. Chance Parelli would cease to exist. As the woman with the blue-eyed dragon tattoo turned slightly in his direction, Chance already knew what he had to do.

He had to avoid his mate before she ever had the chance to know who he really was.