Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  Lord Azure. A bolt of pure horror went through her, chilling her body’s ardor at last. When Lord Azure heard about this, she would be expelled from the Order so fast, small fish would be sucked into the riptide.

  She wasn’t just going to lose her chance at knighthood.

  She was going to lose everything.

  “Hey.” The Prince’s voice softened, as though he’d somehow detected her distress. “It’s okay. I promise, no one will ever know what went on in this room. Your honor is safe with me. Just go back to your lord and tell him I’m a terrible, cowardly waste of space who refused to go with you. Everyone knows that I’m impossible. No one will blame you for not being able to drag me back to my duty.”

  She closed her hand around the hilt of her stunsword, clinging desperately to hope amidst the roaring in her ears. “Even, even if you aren’t returning to the crew, I could still be your bodyguard.”

  He made a scoffing sound. “Oh, come on. The worst that can happen to me here is a hen party getting a little handsy. Even my parents will have to admit that I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  He paused, then flashed a wicked grin at her. “Unless, of course, you’d like to watch me strip off every night?”

  If she stayed, she’d be a laughingstock. She’d be the squire who chose to be assigned to a strip club. No one would ever take her seriously.

  “Seven.” The Prince’s grin faded. He moved forward, looking oddly intent. “You don’t want to be stuck here with me. Go back to Atlantis. It’s for the best. I promise.”

  His salt-sea scent wrapped around her, rooting her to the spot. His hands closed on her shoulders. She found herself unable to move away, unable to even breathe, as he bent to press a soft, chaste kiss to her forehead.

  “Everything will be fine,” he whispered. He released her, pushing her toward the door. “Goodbye, Seven.”

  Chapter 4

  Joe collapsed against the closed door, letting out his breath. He shoved his sunglasses to the top of his head with a shaking hand. Every muscle in his body burned, and not just from the effort of pole dancing. His dragon writhed beneath his skin, roaring to get out.

  His mate. His mate.

  When a sea dragon met his mate, he danced for her. In the cradling currents of the ocean, sinuous and strong. Coils twining, scales caressing, every movement a seduction and a promise.

  He’d danced for her. Started the mating ritual. Offered her his heart.

  And she would never know.

  He heard the clack of high heels coming down the hallway, then a knock on his door. “Hey, Joe?” Carole called. “You free now?”

  “Y-yeah.” He moved aside to let her in. “What’s up, bro?”

  “It’s that creepy woman out front. She is really not taking no for an—” She cut herself off as she took in the state of him. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “Not a ghost.” Joe attempted to force his face into something resembling a smile. “Just the love of my life.”

  Carole’s eyebrows winged upward. “The woman in the World of Warcraft get-up? Got to say I wouldn’t have pegged her as your type. Who was she, anyway? Ex-girlfriend?”

  “Not exactly.” Joe rubbed his forehead, wishing he had a glass of water so he could check the future. “Is she gone?”

  “Yeah, she stormed past me looking pissed enough to boil your bunny. I don’t think she’ll be back.” Carole cocked her head at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

  “Good,” he said firmly, trying to drown out the bereft cries of his inner dragon. “It’s very good. What were you saying about a creepy woman?”

  “It’s the patron I told you about earlier. She’s asking for you by name, and I can’t persuade her to go for any of the other dancers instead.” Carole blew out her breath. “She looks like she’s made of money, but something about her gives me the heebie-jeebies. Want me to bounce her?”

  It was tempting, but Joe shook his head. “No. I could do with a distraction. Send her in.”

  “If you’re sure.” Carole cast a significant look at his groin as she left. “I’ll give you a moment to calm down, though.”

  Underneath his firefighter pants, his banana hammock was indeed suffering a significant wardrobe malfunction. Seven had been considerably more stimulating than his usual clientele. He was thankful that she hadn’t paid for him for a lap dance.

  He adjusted himself as best he could. His t-shirt was beyond salvaging, but they never lasted longer than a single set anyway. He stripped off the last shreds, dropping them in the trash, then grabbed a fresh shirt from a hidden cupboard in the corner.

  He’d barely finished resetting his costume when the door opened again, this time without warning. He hastily pulled his firefighter suspenders back up as a woman entered the room.

  “Hi.” He pasted his professional sexy smile onto his face. “I’m Joe. I’ll be your entertainment this evening.”

  The woman glided forward, letting the door swing shut behind her. Without saying a word, she reached out to him, with the casual arrogance of someone who’d never seen anything they couldn’t have.

  A jolt went through him as her hand stroked up his bare arm. There was nothing objectively unpleasant about her touch, yet it felt…wrong.

  Because it’s not her touch, his dragon roared. We belong to our mate! No one else!

  Joe jerked involuntarily. The woman tightened her grip, crimson nails digging into his skin. Light brown eyes gleamed up at him beneath her scarlet headband, predatory and triumphant.

  Yesterday—hell, half an hour ago—he would have found her wildly attractive. Now it was all he could do not to scream and shove her away.

  “Um,” he said as she circled him like a wolf eying up an injured deer “Look, it’s nothing personal, but I’m going to have to ask you to keep your hands to yourself. Club rules, I’m afraid.”

  She laid a finger against his lips. “Shhh.” Her finger ran down to caress his chin, making him flinch. “Rules are for other people.”

  Uh-oh. “You realize you bought a dance, right? Nothing more.”

  The woman didn’t step out of his personal space. “Is it true that you’re a real firefighter? You used to work for a hotshot crew?”

  “Uh, yeah. Thunder Mountain Hotshots.”

  His sense of wrongness grew. His dragon surged under his skin, demanding to take control of his body. To fight, or flee…

  He couldn’t dance for her. Not now that he’d met his mate. The thought of flirting with anyone else—even just for pretend—made him feel physically sick.

  “Listen, I’m really sorry, but I can’t do this. I-I’m not feeling well.” He tried as politely as he could to twist free of her grip. “I’ll get you a different dancer. More than one. As many as you want. On the house.”

  She shook her head, not letting go. “No. You’re the one I need, Prince.”

  “Or the club can return your money—” He cut himself off as his brain caught up with his ears. “Wait. What did you call me?”

  The woman laughed, cold and triumphant. “Oh, I know exactly who you are, Prince of Atlantis.”

  A laugh rings out from the shadows, cold and triumphant.

  He knew that laugh. Knew her. From his vision, his oldest vision, his nightmare—

  In that split-second of frozen horror, the woman’s manicured nails bit into his arm like claws. She whirled on him, teeth bared in a feral snarl. Light flashed from something in her free hand.

  She plunged the syringe into his neck, and the world dissolved into darkness.

  Chapter 5

  Seven stormed through the club, seething. She’d never before been in total agreement with Lord Azure on anything, but for once she found herself in perfect alignment with his views.

  The Crown Prince was a disgrace to the Pearl Empire. A disgrace.

  How dare he? How dare he?

  He had no honor. Worse, he was taking advantage of his father’s honor, finding the slimmest of lo
opholes to evade his duty. He’d grinned, pleased with his own cleverness. He’d admitted to being an utter coward, without a hint of shame.

  And he hadn’t respected her honor. He’d tricked her.

  He didn’t hold your eyes open, her conscience whispered. He didn’t make you watch as he stripped. He didn’t force you to run your hands all over his—

  Seven clenched her jaw. A sharp, unexpected stab of pain made her wince. To her dismay, she realized her teeth had sharpened, lengthening into points.

  She took a deep breath through her nose, forcing herself to banish the memory of the Prince’s heartbeat pounding under her palms.

  Control.

  She ran her tongue over her teeth, finding them human again. Good. A Knight of the First Water was supposed to remain calm and dignified at all times, no matter what the provocation. It wouldn’t do to appear rattled in front of Lord Azure. It was going to be bad enough when she had to admit that she’d failed.

  I failed.

  Finally, finally, Lord Azure had given her an actual Quest. She’d had a shot at knighthood.

  And that arrogant, smirking, infuriating man had ruined everything.

  She tried to tell herself that there would be other chances. There had to be other chances. She would volunteer for any duty, no matter how perilous or boring. She would earn her blade cleaning the royal toilets, if she had to. Anything that kept her under the sea, and far away from the Crown Prince.

  She never wanted to see his wicked, gorgeous grin ever again.

  And then she was running, back the way she’d come. Because she abruptly knew, knew, that he was in danger.

  His distress filled the air like blood billowing through water. Her animal surged up, pure predatory instinct swamping her conscious mind. She could no more not have responded to that silent scream than she could have shifted on dry land.

  She barged through the club, knocking people aside without the slightest thought for courtesy now. The hostess started to intercept her, then saw her face and wisely stood aside instead. Seven charged past, ignoring the startled protests rising in her wake. Because Joe needed her, needed her now—

  She skidded round a corner into a corridor at the back of the club. At the very end of the dimly lit hallway, she glimpsed the dark-haired woman with the red silk headband. She was supporting a tall, masculine form, heading for an emergency exit.

  To all appearances, the woman was just escorting out a friend who’d had far too much to drink…but the emotions Seven could taste told her otherwise.

  “Stop!” Seven shouted. “In the name of the Pearl Empress!”

  The woman didn’t pause. She kicked open the emergency exit, hoisting the slumped form of the Crown Prince across her shoulders as she did so. With inhuman strength, she dragged him out into the night.

  Seven charged after her, drawing her stunsword without missing a step. She burst out into an alleyway—and only countless combat drills saved her.

  Her sword was moving to block before she even realized she was under attack. A snarl turned into a howl of pain as her blade smashed into a gaping maw lined with jagged fangs.

  On pure reflex, Seven tightened her hand, activating the magic stored in the pearls set into the hilt of her weapon. Her blade sparked with an electric blue glow. Her assailant tumbled back, howl cutting off abruptly.

  Seven was already whirling, intercepting another creature. Burning red eyes, bristling fur, dripping fangs—she still had no idea what she was fighting, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that they were coming between her and the Crown Prince.

  She was in fight time now, dancing between the seconds, every heartbeat thudding in her ears like the slow, ponderous tolling of a great bell. She wove through the attacking beasts, meeting every lunge and slash with her blade.

  Her sword flared with each strike, lighting up the dark alleyway in strobing pulses. She was careful to unleash only the minimum power with each hit, not knowing how many opponents she faced. At full power, her stunsword could drop even a dragon in its tracks, but its charge was limited.

  Seven targeted the beasts’ throats and mouths, doing her best to make sure that each strike hit a vulnerable spot where the magic would be most effective. Even so, she was painfully aware that the creatures weren’t going to stay down for long. The first one that she’d struck was already staggering back to its paws, groggily shaking its head. But Seven didn’t have time to turn and protect her back. She had to protect him.

  The woman was dragging the Prince toward a black SUV parked under a streetlight at the end of the alleyway. He seemed to be stirring, trying to fight her off, but his movements were slow and weak. His drugged distress filled Seven’s senses.

  She snap-kicked a snarling beast, smashed the hilt of her sword into the fangs of another—and then she was through, and running for him.

  The woman glanced over her shoulder, and her eyes widened. For a second, Seven could have sworn they glowed red, unearthly flames kindling in the amber depths. In the slow stretch of combat time, she could see furious calculation flicker across the woman’s face.

  “To me, Knights of the First Water!” Seven shouted, in a sudden moment of inspiration. “Defend your Prince!”

  “Lupa!” A grey-haired man leaned out the driver’s side of the SUV, addressing the woman. His gaunt, lined face twisted in worry. “Leave him! Get to safety!”

  The woman bared sharp teeth in a frustrated snarl. She shoved the Prince away from her, into Seven’s path. Caught off-guard, Seven slammed into him, barely managing to avoid losing her footing.

  He grabbed her shoulders, in a crushing grip that she felt even through her armor. He lurched to one side, dragging her off-balance. For a second, they were doing a kind of mad waltz, both of them trying to get in front of the other.

  “No, no,” the Prince was babbling in her ear as she desperately tried to keep her guard up. His voice was slurred and frantic, completely unlike his previous suave tones. “Leave me, go, run!”

  “For sea’s sake, get behind me you idiot!” Seven shoved him against the wall, flipping her stunsword to her off-hand. She smacked another beast in the skull, and finally she had space to take up a proper defensive position.

  She set her feet, the Prince at her back. The pack hesitated, apparently recognizing that the tides of battle had shifted.

  “I am the Seventh Novice of the Order of the First Water!” she shouted at the ring of burning eyes, hoping that Lord Azure would hear her. “I am honor-sworn to defend the Pearl Empire, and I shall protect the Crown Prince of Atlantis with my life! Face me if you dare!”

  “Cowards,” Lupa snarled at the uncertain pack. She’d retreated to the SUV, but hadn’t taken shelter inside. “She isn’t a dragon! Take her down before her reinforcements arrive!”

  One of the circling creatures turned its muzzle, sniffing the air. It let out a bark of alarm.

  “It’s too late, Lupa!” The man revved the SUV’s engine, his tense voice rising. “Please, we don’t need him. We still have plan B. For your father’s sake, come on!”

  With a last hate-filled glare at Seven, Lupa leapt into back of the SUV, slamming the door behind her. The whole pack followed the vehicle in a mass of shadowy, dark-furred bodies as it roared away.

  Adrenaline deserted her. Time resumed. The stunsword felt like lead in her hand. She lowered the blade, but didn’t retract it, just in case the pack’s apparent retreat was a feint.

  She turned to the Crown Prince. He was leaning against the wall, breathing in shallow gasps. His rich brown skin had paled, taking on a sickly grey tinge.

  She’d reached out to support him, but he flinched away from her touch. His recoil brought her back to her senses, reminding her of their relative stations.

  Seven straightened into a salute despite her aching muscles. “My prince, my apologies for speaking out of turn, but I am concerned for your wellbeing. I know it is a breach of protocol, but please allow me to assist you.”

&
nbsp; “No. No help,” the Crown Prince croaked out. His mouth curved in a thin, wavering ghost of a grin. “Be…be all right. Just need a minute.”

  Seven wasn’t nearly as confident about that. He’d lost his sunglasses at some point. His eyes were screwed tight shut, as though even the dim light of the alleyway was too much to bear. She’d never heard any rumor that the Crown Prince had unusually sensitive eyes, so she could only assume it was an effect of whatever the would-be kidnapper had drugged him with.

  “Are you having trouble with your vision, my prince?” she asked, concerned. “Did your assailant strike you? You could have a concussion.”

  He made a slight, abortive motion, as though he’d started to shake his head and then had to quickly desist. Seven leaped to support him as he swayed. Royalty or not, she couldn’t have him collapsing at her feet. This time he accepted her help, sagging against her.

  His ashen pallor was really starting to worry her. As politely as she could, she reached up to check his temperature. He made a short, sharp intake of breath as her hand brushed his cheek, and her own pulse gave a strange leap. His skin burned against her palm.

  “My prince.” She tightened her fingers, forcing him to turn his face down to hers. “Joe. I need you to look at me. Look at me, Joe.”

  His eyes opened at last. Seven had only been intending to check whether his pupils were even…but instead she found herself dropping into endless blue. The warm turquoise of tropical seas surrounded her. She floated, weightless. She could swim forever in his eyes.

  And a part of her that had always been silent said: Mine.

  “Yes,” he whispered, as though he too had heard that internal voice—and then, much louder, “No!”

  He shoved her away, with shocking force. The world rushed back. She caught herself against the wall, her body abruptly feeling heavy and ungainly, as if the tide had suddenly retreated to leave her beached on the shore.

  The Prince backed away from her, keeping his head wrenched to one side as though he didn’t dare make eye contact again. His breathing came in short, panicked gasps. Without warning, he turned on his heel and ran.