Shifters Forsaken: Shifter Romance Collection Bks 1-5

by Mia Taylor

  When she went to Kalgrin’s house after another successful run from him at some far-off plantation where the lord had a rather nasty habit of cutting off workers’ fingers if they disobeyed any order, even if it might have been a few seconds too slow a reaction, she voiced the concern.

  She also made sure to dress herself up in fresh clothes, a blue top, knee-length blue skirt, and simple flat-soled shoes, and scrubbed herself thoroughly down until she smelled like strawberry perfume. Just to make a good impression, of course. Certainly not to make Kalgrin pay more attention to her or anything. Nope.

  “I have many questions,” she began, and Kalgrin’s nose twitched as he scented her perfume, and observed her elaborately brushed hair and popping breasts under her shirt. “First, are there many places where humans actually live good lives?”

  Kalgrin shook his head, though his eyes still observed her in faint hunger. He didn’t look half bad, either, opting for a ruffled blouse, a black waistcoat, and pinstripe pants. He chose to walk around in black socks, though, preferring to leave his shoes at the door. Anya did the same, though she wore no socks under her shoes.

  “I’m afraid it’s not common. Wyrms are the ruling factions in most countries. You know why, though?”

  Anya actually didn’t. “No.”

  “There was a war. A long time ago. Way back when. Between humans and dragons. Humans used to be the dominant population. They used to live in big cities, practise magic, fight with each other and live off the cream of the land. Hard to imagine something like that, right?”

  A world where humans ruled? Anya tried picturing it, and failed. “But how could we rule against dragons? They’re so… strong.”

  “Humans were stronger.” Kalgrin automatically reached out a hand to steady Anya as she stumbled upon his carpet, not paying attention to her walk. The shiver of contact made her blink stupidly for a moment as he gripped her. Her mind started going ahead. Maybe it struggled to imagine humans being leaders, but it certainly had no issues going through the fantasy of taking off Kalgrin’s clothes, leading him to bed, and having her wicked way with him. Her face flushed, even as Kalgrin continued explaining, apparently unaware of her sudden arousal, “Humans used to have powerful magic. It doesn’t matter if your opponent is a big lizard if you can blast them out of the sky with a rain of diamonds, or with thunderstorms and balls of fire. Humans used to enslave dragons.”

  “What? Really? How do you know?”

  “History books. We keep information,” he answered. “See, this is why I think you should learn to read. There’s so much knowledge written down!”

  “Why should I learn to read when you can just tell me everything?”

  “I…” he paused. “I guess that’s a good point.” His frown made her laugh.

  “Sorry, Kal. You were saying?”

  “Well, I was saying – you guys used to have magic. But something happened to your magic a while back. A sickness. Magic users caught some kind of disease, and no one knew where it started. But it targeted magic, and your magic died. And, without magic… you became easy prey to the wyrms and the drakes. And ever since then, the roles have been reversed.” He gave a shrug. “The only humans that coped were the ones who lived in areas with anti-dragon enchantments. Those still exist today. I’ve heard rumors magic is making a return, too, but I’ve yet to see humans wielding powers.”

  In his story, something didn’t make sense to Anya. She still endeavored to imagine a scenario where humans ruled over dragons. Easier when she thought about humans flinging out lightning from their hands, raising up mountains and causing floods with a twitch of their fingers. “Then… why do drakes help us? It doesn’t sound like you have reason to.”

  “Don’t we?” Kalgrin smiled. “Times change. There are no excuses for suffering. Not when you’re punishing people a thousand years later, who have no memory of before. It makes us no better. And maybe one day, we’ll find the tables turned again.” He licked his lips, his eyes distant. Seeing something Anya didn’t understand. “We don’t have excuses anymore, little human. But we like to keep making them all the same.”

  There was some truth in that. Anya thought the same thing about her people. How could they excuse such treatment? How did they keep allowing it year after year? Surely, there reached a point where the excuses stopped?

  Surely there came a time when people faced reality, and realized it’d never get better, not unless they did something about it?

  Thinking on those lines… Anya sure made a lot of excuses for Kalgrin. Excuses like she wanted to be independent, she didn’t want to be beholden to a dragon, she didn’t feel ready…

  But, really, she found it harder and harder to convince herself that she had a valid reason to stay away from Kalgrin emotionally. Easier to see her thoughts for what they were.

  Excuses against someone she actually liked.

  Time to stop with those excuses, then.

  “Kalgrin. You know I keep coming over a lot, and wearing these nice clothes, and putting on this nice perfume?”

  “I had noticed that,” he said, with a rather amused expression. “Why?”

  “Well… it might be because I like you. And secretly want you to screw my brains out.”

  “Oh.” His eyes blackened. His nostrils flared, and his body stiffened in pleasant shock. “Is that so?”

  “Well… not just screw me. Though I’m looking forward to that. But... have me. As a partner. A person you can wake up next to and smile. My mom never had that. So many people I’ve known don’t get that happy ending. But I think with you… I’d like to try and taste it for myself.”

  His smile softened. “It’s the least you deserve… isn’t it?” A flicker of worry then consumed his face. “But, are you sure? I mean, I’m a dragon.”

  “That doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

  Those words cleared the doubt in his eyes, and cleared the fluttering nervousness in her stomach. She didn’t know what she was saying, if she’d said it right, but she seemed to be hitting the right notes so far. It flowed naturally from her, when she let go of the excuses and let the truth trickle out.

  “May I… kiss you?” He waited, earnest, not making a move without her say-so.

  How polite. “You may,” she said, trying not to laugh. Wait until her mother heard this.

  “Kissing in three, two, one…” He leaned forward and planted his lips on hers. That first contact came awkwardly, clumsily. Nothing like what Anya had imagined, where she thought stars might burst around them and the heavens then fell – the things they only told you in the best stories when love flourished and didn’t worry about the grind of everyday life.

  The kiss from Kalgrin at first felt disappointing, but they worked at it, being patient with one another’s lips, and it got to a point where the pressure they placed and the movements they conducted became natural and pleasant. Sure, the countdown might have been strange, but then again, the whole thing could be construed as strange. What mattered was the rapid beating of her heart, and the gentle way he touched her, and the patient affection he showed her.

  Sometimes she wondered if she was doing the wrong thing, and then those thoughts cleared away when she lost herself in the moment. They slowly led one another to bed, taking the time to stop, to kiss, to caress.

  The treatment made Anya want to cry – she couldn’t remember the last time someone held her with so much love. Not wanting to start blubbing her eyes out, she dove deeper into the kiss, into ruffling his floppy curls, into sharing herself with him. One by one they peeled off one another’s clothes, until both were naked. Her skin had the hardened tan of working in the fields, and his was as pale as snow, lighter than hers.

  He stood back to admire her body, all the way from her freckled face to her soft, rounded breasts, calloused hands and strong thighs. She admired his body too, the sculpted build, with broad, toned shoulders, not bulging with muscles, but hinting at the power that lay within. He had a flat, hairless chest with t
he hint of abs showing – not quite a muscular demigod, but certainly an arousing sight to behold. Everything was just right.

  He reached for her hand and kissed the rough underside, not caring if her skin was hard and lacking in softness. She had other soft parts to make up for it. She also couldn’t help but notice his growing erection, from the way it uncurled from small to big. She liked the way he always asked her if it was okay, though it eventually reached a point where she simply whispered into his ear, “Just shut up and fuck me.”

  That worked pretty well. He lowered her down onto the mattress, those blue eyes dark, and his body quivering in excitement. Anya’s cheeks flushed, her whole body raised up its temperature, making it feel as if she were about to burn up. Nothing else mattered at this moment except him.

  He kissed her neck, breathing his warm air, and braced his arms on either side of her, sliding into position between her legs. His erection pressed against her stomach in a promise, before he crawled backwards slightly and rested it on her entrance.

  Heart beating in a frenzy, Anya let out a whimper as he moved inside her for the first time, for the first time of anyone in her life. She didn’t expect pain – she knew about masturbation, she got urges like anyone else – she just didn’t want to risk the children in such an impoverished, cruel place. But here, it didn’t concern her. Not with someone who showered her with affection, who helped raise her life above the mud it dwelled in, who helped save her family, and for some reason, loved the soul inside her.

  People used to think she deserved punishment for being so outspoken. Now, allowed to be who she was, she felt nothing but happiness and gratefulness for her new position. She whispered her love in his ear, perhaps encouraged by the feel of him so close to her. Maybe the feeling would vanish afterwards, when the tension wasn’t knotting up in her stomach, getting ready to spread out in a warm, delicious wave of bliss.

  He sped up his thrusts, continued snatching kisses from her lips, breathing harshly, his heart thundering at the same pace as hers.

  When he came, her heart soared at his pleasure, his sounds, and she moaned as well. She noticed the drop in pressure inside her, and would have been perfectly happy leaving things like this – but then he reached down with his fingers and fumbled around her bundle of nerves, until he hit the right spot. The electricity bolted through her like a thunderstorm, the feeling came hard and intense, and within moments, she found herself shuddering and moaning her way into orgasm.

  “Didn’t want to keep all the glory to myself,” he whispered in her ear, before kissing it, and allowing themselves to arrange into a comfortable embrace.

  Exhausted with happiness – who knew such a thing could wear you out? – Anya fell into a deep sleep, breathing in Kalgrin’s musky scent, secure in the wrap of his arms around her.

  Waking up, Anya didn’t regret a moment of her choice. She didn’t regret staying with Kalgrin, with sharing her heart and soul with him, or falling in love with him.

  Her family existed in a better place. But many more families didn’t. And as long as she stayed by Kalgrin’s side, she actively helped contribute to the cause he followed. And she fell that little bit more in love.

  She planned to go with him next week to one of the plantation areas, to see the conditions for herself.

  “It’s dangerous,” he told her later on. “But if you want to get involved with infiltrating these areas, you’ll need more training. I’m sorry, but I can’t let you go to those places without some basic self-defense.”

  “So teach me,” was her response.

  “With pleasure,” he replied, bending to kiss her hand. He looked so proud in that moment, standing by her side. Admiring the spirit inside her body. Allowed to be a part of her life, by a choice of her own making.

  She knew full well the path she now chose wouldn’t be easy. She knew Kalgrin, despite his jovial manner, his casual way of dipping himself into dangerous situations – might die any day. One mistake when he crept into an isolated lordling’s home, and she’d no longer have a lover returning home. But, well, if a bloody dragon wanted to risk his life for humans, then surely, she could do the same in return. And support him in any way possible.

  “Oh, what fun we’ll have together…” he purred, giving her a rather sultry gaze, blue eyes darkening in lust.

  Anya twitched a smirk of her own, before leading him back towards the bedroom.

  The End

  Isera’s Freedom

  Chapter One

  Isera slammed her hands against the cell door. She screamed, desperate for help, for something, anything to come down into this wretched place. Thirst scratched at her mind. Hunger contorted her stomach. She had taken to licking the damp walls for water, praying for the rain to tease through that gap in the ceiling. She heard it softly patter, and had to stop herself just clinging to that wall, waiting for the next drop to slide down.

  The enchanted cuffs bit into her skin, reminding Isera of her impotence. The magic in her blood became useless with these cuffs. Though then again, even with her magic, she probably would spend a great deal of time trying to melt down the bars before she got out again. She screamed again, banging feebly at the bars, her blonde hair sticking to them from sweat.

  No. If she exerted too much energy, she'd lose too much water, and then she'd die. Needed to preserve energy. To be careful. She’d spent her whole life being careful. What good did it give her?

  Must be careful, should be careful, always careful… No! She shook her head violently. Thirst scratched at her mind, fractured her thinking. Couldn’t allow that. Needed to stay on track.

  The clothes that clung to her body were the last shreds of her school fur robes, back from where she still learned magic in the northern Frostlands. Back where her friend Seon likely waited for her, wondering why Isera still hadn’t made it back.

  Isera strained her eyes, trying to see further down the dungeon, her eyes adjusted enough to the gloom to know that no one else was there but her. A whole dungeon, with dozens upon dozens of cells, and it was just her here.

  Closing her eyes, Isera once again pictured it. Panic. Hands clamping over her mouth. The waterskins dropping from her nerveless hands, splashing into the river. A sharp pain in her side. A deep, guttural voice spitting into her ear, “Caught you, whore,” and that little trip to the eastern Frostlands had crumbled apart. They were supposed to be meeting up with another potential magic caster here. Word had been sent to Isera’s school, and because the user was rumored to be of the flame, Isera had been the logical choice to go, to help show them that it wasn’t some terrifying demon power. She rode on Artiz's back, remembering how the wind whipped into her face as he beat his wings through the air. She remembered promising Seon she'd be back in time for dinner, no problem. She remembered her meeting with Elise, her old friend from her former life just a week before. Elise no longer worked in the mines, and had instead established a beautiful life for herself.

  One that Isera envied.

  About time one of us got the life we deserved, Isera thought, shrugging off the worse of her feelings. It brought her a brief comfort, before she once again reflected on her kidnapping. On her current predicament.

  She never even got to see who took her. Had to be wyrms, obviously. Horrid beasts. But since no one bothered to give her food or drink down here, since no one ever visited her, Isera believed she had been left here to die alone.

  It doesn't make sense. If they wanted me dead, they could have just killed me.

  All she knew was the taste of soil-crusted hands, the hot, stale breath of someone who hated her taunting in her ear, the pain in her side, and the other one that blacked her out from the world.

  Nothing else.

  Tears sprang into her eyes. It didn't make sense at all, but the reality was this. In less than a day, she might die of thirst. Hunger didn't kill as fast. It took a while to eat through all the fat and then the muscles. Thirst, though. It sent you mad within a couple of days, with that
pounding, incessant headache, that throb against her brain, that awful, parched quality to her tongue.

  She fished out the smooth black pebble from her pocket and sucked on it again, hoping the little moisture left on her mouth would be lured out by the pebble, to give her body the illusion of swallowing something vital. It also helped distract her, and provide focus to her otherwise feverish brain.

  No lock. No window. Just that tiny crack in the ceiling, and the gloom of a clouded sky and the tiny drizzle of rain that might just be the only thing keeping her alive right now.

  Nothing in the cell helped her out, and she was currently using her cloak as a blanket, and her spare shirt to cover up the waste that came out of her body. It only obscured some of the smell. She hadn't yet resorted to drinking her urine, knowing that it didn't really help. Tempting, all the same. And that was bad. To have something extreme tempting her.

  A low growl left her throat when she squinted her dark blue eyes at the cuffs. The stupid things wouldn't come off. Biting and scratching at them didn't help. They seemed glued on by magic, preventing her from using the one thing that might get her out of here.

  Even if Isera couldn't get out, it might be nice to have someone to talk to. Even if all they said to her was insults and cruel words. Better than silence and the whispers of her own mind, telling her that she was doomed to die here, that she would never see her friends again.

  A wretched, animal sound tore out of Isera's lips. Her heart squashed in despair, but she didn't cry to the point of tears. She needed the moisture.

  If only she had something to write with. Maybe she could send a letter or have it discovered when her friends came over her thinly wrapped bones, trapped in this little cell.

  She rolled the flat pebble in her mouth, sucking hard on it. She gazed into the gloom of the dungeon corridor and its empty cells.