Act of Surrender

by Mandy M. Roth

  King of Prey: A Bird Shifter Novel by Mandy M. Roth

  In a place where realms combine and portals open passages to the unknown, a prophecy speaks of fertility being restored to King Kabril’s people through the taking of his mate.

  The prophecy neglects to mention she lacks something vital to his kind--wings. Kabril, king of the Buteos Regalis, has no interest in taking a human mate. His kind believe humans are dirty, vile creatures who rely on machines to lift them into the air. The last place he wants to go in search of his mate is the realm of Earth, but he's left no choice.

  Never did he expect to find love on a planet with one moon, people who lack wings and a stubborn vixen who makes his heart soar. When he does, he fears the truth about who and what he truly is will steal it away. Little does he know his enemies fully intend on doing the taking.

  Excerpt from King of Prey: A Bird Shifter Novel Book One by Mandy M. Roth

  Chapter One

  Accipitridae Realm

  “King Kabril, you cannot stand idly by while your people cry out for you to lead. Our race will not survive unless you take a wife. The mating magik that governs our lands will not grant established unions the blessing of children if the leader himself refuses to sire offspring,” Sachin said, his words the truth. As head advisor to the king he was afforded the opportunity to speak freely where others were not. It was a privilege Kabril was fast beginning to suspect needed to be revoked. “You know the laws, the way of the land and the demands you must meet as king. The time has come, my lord. This can wait no longer. The people of Accipitridae need you to act now.”

  Though Sachin’s words were the truth, they were not what Kabril wanted to hear. No. He much rather preferred hearing all was well and that none of the people under his rule were troubled. Of course, those moments were few and far between of late. The rumbles of pending war continued to make their way through the kingdom. Now was not the time for foolishness or for stopping everything to heed the warnings of those who did not leave their chambers.

  Ever.

  Seers and the Oracle.

  He grunted. He had no time time for prophecy.

  It had been a good long while since his people had been in full-scale war. Yes, they had the occasional run-in with the enemy, but nothing epic. Too long for some to remember the horrors of it, yet not long enough for others to be afforded the chance to forget.

  Kabril was one of the men who could not forget. He did not want a repeat, nor did he want his people’s moods soured because he was refusing to do what was required of him as king. Gods be damned if what they required didn’t go against his very nature.

  Select a wife.

  Settle upon only one woman—forever?

  Absurd.

  Truly, he would have thought it a trick of the Oracle had so many not stood behind the words.

  Foolish words.

  Sighing, Kabril leaned back on his throne and stared into the reflective mixture Sachin held in the bowl. He ran his fingers over the scrolled armrest and glanced down at the carved hawks. A slow smile caused by pride moved over his face. Pride in his people, their traditions and their beliefs, even though those very beliefs were the cause of his unrest.

  He did not want to be forced to select a queen. Far too long he’d ruled alone, answered to no one and liked it just fine that way. He did not require the assistance of a female.

  Few men did.

  Females tended to talk too much and think with their hearts, not their minds. Such was a luxury men could not afford. He shuddered to think what would come to be should females ever rule the realm. There would be nothing but talk, talk, talk.

  He nearly groaned at the thought.

  “A curse on the prophecy,” he muttered, making Sachin laugh. He looked to his friend. “They are wrong to put such stock in charms and magiks.”

  “At one point in your life, you too believed the seers to be true and wise.”

  He scoffed. “’Twas before I knew better.”

  “You are most difficult, my lord.”

  “I could have you beheaded,” Kabril returned.

  Sachin merely snorted. “You could try.”

  The people of his kingdom assumed their issues with conceiving were due to his reluctance to accept what they deemed to be destiny. Kabril wasn’t a staunch believer in the gods or of prophecy as he should be, but it came from being the one forced to accept a wife he did not want. As their ruler, it was his sworn duty to do what was best for the kingdom, regardless how much it pained him.

  “My lord,” Sachin pressed, his reluctance to let the subject rest putting Kabril’s already taxed nerves on edge. The man would not cease his endless prattle about the subject no matter how much Kabril deemed he do so.

  Kabril knew. He’d tried to decree it law not to speak of the ordeal.

  Sachin simply ignored him.

  As was the norm.

  Taking a deep, calming breath, Kabril reminded himself of how proud he was, and should always be, of his people’s customs and beliefs. Although he was less than pleased with the Oracle—whom they held in such high esteem—choosing a bride for him. According to the prophecies, the Oracle would select a woman fit to lead his people, and he was honor-bound to obey. It was also said the union would produce children, something their kind sorely lacked. Once heavily populated, his lands were no longer bursting with the sounds of children singing and playing. In truth, Kabril could scarcely recall when the sounds indicative of children stopped, but he knew it had been far too long.

  War had claimed the lives of many of his people. Still others, while immortal to a degree, possessed the ability to pass on to the afterlife should they so choose. There came a time in many people’s lives when they were ready to move on. It mattered not what the cause was—their population was low, as was morale. Riches only did so much to calm the people. They wanted families.

  “Cursed Magaious,” he spat, not caring if he took one of the Epopisdeus’ names in vain.

  Sachin clapped acrimoniously. “Bringing down the wrath of the bird gods will surely ease your burden, my lord. For if you curse one, they all rise to strike.”

  “You push me too far, old friend.” Kabril smoothed his fingertips along the wood of his throne, ignoring the internal nudge to free his temper.

  “You do not push yourself far enough.”

  Kabril hated when Sachin was right.

  Giving Sachin a daring look, Kabril let loose another curse upon the gods. He once again selected the god he knew Sachin honored weekly in hopes of provoking his friend. He was in the mood for a fight and Sachin was always a worthy adversary. The two often sparred until matins. Depending upon the day, Sachin would either continue the match or lay his sword down to go honor the gods. Kabril had long since given up his prayers to higher powers. “A pox on Magaious and those who follow him blindly.”

  Sachin merely tipped his head a little and released an exasperated sigh. “Remind me again which of us is older? You seem to be acting like a fledgling, my lord.”

  Arguing with Sachin would get him nowhere since it was clear Sachin was not going to take his bait. Damn him for being levelheaded. Kabril hungered for an argument, even a sparring match. Steel upon steel would settle the debate. For there was nothing more soothing than the clang of steel and the vibration up one’s arm from a good strike and an equally as good counterstrike.

  Sachin would obviously give in to neither. Kabril truly hated when his advisor was calm. It took all the fun out of a good fight. Kabril drummed his fingers on his armrests, trying to devise a plan for avoiding marriage.

  Especially to a human female.

  For more information about these titles and other bestselling Mandy M. Roth titles please visit www.MandyRoth.com

  The Impatient Lord by Michelle M. Pillow

  Bestselling Dragon Shifter Romance

  An unlucky bride…

  Riona Grey lives life on her own terms, traveling wherever the next spaceship is flying and doing what she m
ust in order to get by. When her luck turns sour, she finds herself on a bridal ship heading to a marriage ceremony. A planet full of dragon shifters seeking mates wasn't exactly what she had in mind as a final destination. Just when she thinks things couldn't possibly get worse, she wakes up months later in an isolation chamber with a sexy, hovering dragon shifter by her side telling her they're meant to be together...forever.

  The impatient groom...

  After years of failed marriage attempts at the Breeding Festivals, the gods finally revealed Lord Mirek's bride...a day too late. Eager to have her, he defied tradition and laid claim. But it is a mistake to go against the gods and his new wife was the one to pay the price of his impatience.

  Now almost a year later, his bride is finally waking from her deep sleep. With one look from her, he feels the eagerness to claim her overtaking him once more. Fearful she'll slip through his grasp once again, he's hesitant to anger the gods by taking her to his bed too soon. But, how can he resist the one thing that would make his life complete, especially when she looks at him with eyes of a seductress? This is one test he can't fail, and yet with one of her sweet kisses he knows he may already have lost.

  The Impatient Lord (Dragon Lords) Excerpt

  “What happened to you?” Alek eyed Mirek in concern. “Did you have to wrestle negotiate with the Syog again?”

  “My wife.” Mirek stopped his slow, ambling walk and leaned against the corridor wall. Not that he would complain, but Riona had taken to intimacy with a vivacious force he’d ever dreamed possible. “She’s, ah, fully recovered now.”

  Alek quirked a brow. It took him a long moment to understand what was happening. His concern turned into hard, full laughter. He clutched his stomach and bent over, struggling to breathe.

  “What’s going on out here?” Bron appeared from the scroll room, holding a stack of yellowed parchments. He eyed his brothers curiously.

  “Lady…learned…sex…balls,” was about all of Alek’s answer they could understand.

  Mirek grimaced. He should have known better than to admit soreness to one of his brothers. Why hadn’t he lied and said he’d been getting his privates kicked in a Syog ball racking negotiation? It would have been an easy lie. Those aliens were rough on the manhood, even if they used a semi-protective plate. No one would have questioned his claim. They would have still laughed at him, but they would have believed him.

  “Mirek?” Bron asked in concern.

  “Riona, ah—” Mirek began.

  “He can’t handle…his wife,” Alek interrupted in merriment. “He’s walking like this.” Alek ambled around the hall like an old man with a cane, stumbling all the more in his fit of laughter.

  Bron arched a brow and nodded his head. “Nicely done. We’ll have another nephew to add to the family soon. Well done, brother.”

  “If she didn’t break him,” Alek inserted. “I always suspected you were a little soft, Ambassador. All that flying in space and drinking lady wine with the aliens.”

  Mirek shoved Alek into a wall. It didn’t stop the laughter as the man slid to the floor. “At least I don’t smell like a ceffyl herd.”

  “I deserve that,” Alek admitted, not bothering to stand as he grinned up at them. A change had come over him since his marriage. He was happier and smiled more. Whatever Kendall had done to her husband, she’d managed to tame the stubborn man.

  “You’re going to tell everyone, aren’t you?” Mirek sighed, not really worried. His wife wanted him. That was a good thing. Actually, she wanted him…and wanted him…and wanted him…and—

  “Oh, yeah,” Alek nodded. “Everyone.”

  “Alek,” Bron broke in. “Maybe we should keep this to ourselves. If my wife is any indication of how the women were raised, her sister will not like being talked about in such a way. She will consider it insulting.”

  Alek instantly agreed. “Of course, I didn’t think of it like that. I would never gossip about my sisters if it made them uncomfortable.”

  “Thank you,” Mirek mouthed. Bron nodded once.

  “Have either of you seen the updated communications plans?” Bron asked, nodding at his armload. “We’re having a hard time locating some of the buried mountain lines to see if they’re salvageable. Aeron wants to get the construction plans finished before the baby arrives and keeps asking if they’re lines or transmit boosters. I honestly have no idea how they work.”

  “Why don’t you just grab a line on one side and pull?” Alek asked, shrugging. “See where it leads. If it doesn’t lead anywhere, I’d say we have transmit boosters. I don’t know what a transmit booster looks like, but we can send the boys out to look for one in the trees or wherever.”

  “Apparently checking the line that way will take longer. Aeron ordered a ground imager but it won’t be here until after the baby comes. She is very focused on getting this done. Now.” Bron looked at them hopefully, an almost desperate plea on his face as he wanted to please his pregnant wife. “So have you seen the updated plans?”

  “Updated as in the ones from fifty years ago?” Mirek frowned. “Did we even have plans? I don’t ever remember seeing them. I seem to remember Sper just making it work. He’d go out with tools and come back later with everything working again.”

  “Alek?” Bron prompted.

  “No clue,” Alek said. “I think Sper kept all the plans in his head. When he died, he took the information with him. Though, come to think of it, after he died the network stopped breaking down so much. I wonder what that man was doing?”

  “Intergalactic transmissions,” Mirek answered. Sper never married, never even tried to marry. He was a very rare exception to the Draig culture in that way. “Something he called moving, moodies, movies?”

  “Blast!” Bron frowned. “That’s what I was afraid of. Aeron is not going to be pleased. She is a very organized woman.” To Mirek, he said, “She was always like that, but it’s getting worse. At first, she just arranged clothing in the closet according to styles and color. But then I caught her trying to alphabetize your giant trade agreement reports in my office in the middle of the night.”

  “Wait until your bride starts hiding your favorite throwing knives,” Alek said. “I wish Kendall would merely reorganize reports.”

  A King’s Ransom by Reagan Hawk

  (pen name of Mandy M. Roth)

  Book One in the Masters of Pleasure Series

  On a quest to find his brother, King Kritan of Katarius on the planet of Panucia finds himself ambushed, beaten, tortured and then sold to fight in the arena games. The people of Tamonius—his rival kingdom—condone slavery, take public sex to new lows and try to turn a profit off anything they can. Nothing can change his hatred for everything Tamonius… That is, until he meets the most breathtakingly beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes upon. Surina of the House of Argyros, daughter to a powerful senator, stirs the beast within him, making it want to lay claim to her as badly as the man does.

  Free or not, Kritan is a master of seduction, and has selected Surina as his newest prey. But this virginal beauty has secrets of her own—ones that change everything. And destiny just might have the last laugh.

  Excerpt from A King’s Ransom (Masters of Pleasure)

  City of Vesta in the Kingdom of Tamonius on the Planet Panucia…

  Kritan of Katarius walked through the streets of Vesta, a city known across the planet for its corruption and wickedness. He drew his black cloak around him more—to hide the sword at his side and the dagger in the top of his left boot. The clothing he wore was appropriate for the area, though nothing he’d normally want upon his body—the material was something a commoner would wear and not to his liking. He preferred trews to the tunic with a roped belt. He liked his boots, not the ones he wore now that were more of a sandal, leaving some of his foot exposed. He disliked, too, the ring that held his sword, preferring his sheath. He had not dared to bring his personal sword and shield. They were things that would give his origins—and his role—away.


  It was important to blend. At least for now.

  Cool wind from the north, from across the Ice Seas, blew past him. It was welcome against the heat of Tamonius’s summer. Kritan preferred slightly cooler weather. While he could warm his body naturally by allowing his beast to rise, he could not cool it as easily.

  His lip curled at the sight of three women standing, their breasts hanging out of the tops of their tunics. They were whores. His homeland, Katarius, was not without pleasures of the flesh, but they did not openly display their sexuality as the people of Tamonius did. While Katarius had whores, the guards there policed the streets better, making sure the women who charged were corralled into taverns or brothels, not left to wander the streets aimlessly for any and all to see. So far Kritan had lost count of the number of women he’d seen since entering the walls of Vesta who were selling their bodies for a few measly coins or even stale bread.

  Such a state of things. And the Tamoni thought they were so superior to the six occupied countries on their home planet.

  Kritan walked with his head up, moving with purpose, though he was not yet sure of where he needed to be. His informant had spoken of a tavern four roads within the gates of Vesta. As Kritan walked the length of the fourth row, he could count at least five taverns directly around him, each filthier than the last.

  Unease settled over him. He had known this would be a fool’s mission. One he should not have undertaken himself, but he’d had no choice. He had to find his brother. He had to make amends, and he would walk through the cesspool called Vesta a thousand times over if he thought it would give him a chance to make things right. Banishing Jaelyn all those years ago had been a mistake. One he’d lived with for nearly two decades. Lies and a woman—a woman Kritan had believed meant more to him than she did—had fostered an environment that left him speaking words he could not take back, and sending his brother far from home. So long had gone by with no word on his brother’s whereabouts, that when a missive arrived telling a tall tale—one that spoke of Jaelyn not only being alive but in grave danger, so much so that his brother was suddenly on borrowed time, Kritan could not stop himself. He’d mounted a steed and set forth on a quest to find the man—to hell with the cost. Regardless that he had men to do such things for him. That, as King of Katarius, rushing alone into the kingdom of Tamonius was not simply reckless, it was suicide. This was his brother and he would right the wrong he’d committed long ago.