Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  Nonetheless, Diana obediently sank to the grass, sitting cross-legged. He sat down too, facing her.

  His pegasus stamped a hoof. Too far away. Touch her! Hold her! Our mate wants us!

  But she wouldn’t. Not after she knew the truth.

  “Diana…” Callum stalled. His mind was too full, with his increasingly-insistent pegasus, with his mate’s intoxicating proximity, with every life on the mountain. There wasn’t room for words.

  He shook his head, struggling to focus. “Do you mind if I check my list?”

  Diana patted his knee. “You do whatever you need to do, Callum. I’m not going anywhere.”

  It was strange not to have to hide his habit. Callum pulled out his notebook, feeling oddly naked, and flicked to the right page.

  Picnic

  Tell Diana about:

  Shifters (will probably have to shift as proof)

  Beth being a pegasus

  True mates

  Doubt over Beth’s biological father

  The rest of the page was blank. He hadn’t been able to plan past that final, apocalyptic item.

  Callum ran a finger down the list, stopping on True mates. Of course, he had to explain that first. Otherwise Diana wouldn’t understand why he’d recognized her on sight at the car crash, even though they might not have met before.

  He tucked the notebook back into his pocket. “I need to tell you about true mates.”

  “True mates?” Diana looked a bit perplexed. “You mean soulmates? Like, there being one person in all the world who’s your perfect match? Someone you’re bound to by fate?”

  Well, that had been easier than he’d expected. “Yes. Exactly. You’re mine.”

  Diana stared at him.

  Good, his pegasus said. Now kiss her.

  Even for his inner beast, that was unhelpful.

  Callum gritted his teeth against the surge of need sweeping through his blood. The memory of Diana’s lush body pressed against his own was burned into his skin. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to stay still, and waited.

  “Er,” Diana said at last. “Let me make sure we’re on the same page here. You’re saying that soulmates are real, and I’m…yours?”

  “Yes.” When she continued to stare at him, he added, “Shifters recognize their true mates on sight. That’s why I—”

  And then his arms were abruptly full of the most gorgeous woman in the world, as Diana launched herself at him.

  Caught completely off-guard, he went straight over backward, his shoulders slamming into the ground. Diana’s soft thighs straddled him. She pinned him down, and for a split-second he honestly thought that she was attacking him in fury.

  Then her mouth found his.

  All other thought fled. There was only Diana, the heat of her, the softness of her, the taste of her. He gripped the back of her head, pulling her even closer. She matched his urgency, tongue tangling with his, fierce and triumphant. She claimed him as though she too had been waiting her whole life for this.

  “Diana,” he gasped. “Mine. My mate.”

  “Yes,” she murmured, never breaking the desperate kiss. “Yes.”

  Yes, his pegasus echoed. At last. Now.

  Callum could no more have fought the instinct surging through him than he could have commanded his heart to stop beating. Diana was here, and he was hers, and she was his. Nothing else mattered.

  He rolled, reversing their positions. Her thighs gripped his sides, wonderfully soft, wonderfully strong. The feel of her body underneath his was glorious. Maddening. He needed more.

  Diana fisted her hands in his shirt, tugging in wordless command. He ripped it off, and caught his breath at the touch of her palms on his bare back. She was fire, she was life, she was everything.

  He had to touch her in return. He propped himself up just far enough to tear open the buttons of her shirt. She wriggled eagerly, helping him to strip away her bra. The first incredible brush of her hard nipples against his chest very nearly had him coming in his pants there and then.

  “Wait,” he growled. He backed away from her, struggling for control. “Wait. I want to see you.”

  Diana shook back her tangled hair and sat up. A blush rose across her throat. Her arms wrapped around her middle. He could see her trying to suck in her stomach.

  She smiled, but it looked forced. “If you want. But I haven’t exactly improved.”

  How could she say that? Every inch of her was soft and enticing. Her breasts hung full and ripe, large dark nipples begging to be worshipped. His hands ached to explore the contours of her belly, the lush curves of her hips. He burned to discover the places that would make her gasp, bite her lip, moan his name.

  “You’re perfect.” He took her wrists, gently forcing her to move her arms aside. “You’re my goddess.”

  For some reason, that made Diana laugh. She lay back again, allowing him to explore her incredible body.

  Her breasts were a dream, impossibly soft. He teased her nipples to hard peaks, relishing the way she gasped and caught her breath. She was gloriously responsive, telling him without words exactly what pleased her. Where to bite harder, feeling her shudder; when to torment her with butterfly-light licks, her hands fisting in his hair.

  He worked his way lower, delighting in every inch. He found the silvery scar that ran across her stomach, and traced it with kisses. He would never have words sufficient to express his awe and wonder at the miracle she had made, the life she had brought into the world. But he could show her, silently. Telling her his feelings with his hands, his mouth, his whole body.

  She squirmed delightfully as he pressed his mouth to her soft hip. He worked at the buttons of her pants, tugging them down. Fierce satisfaction surged through him as he discovered that she was even more sensitive here, the lightest touch making her moan.

  The crease of her inner thigh. Her soft, dark curls. Her salt-sweet taste.

  “Oh God.” Diana’s hips bucked, her legs spreading as far as they could with her pants still hobbling her. “Callum, whatever you do, don’t stop.”

  Callum had absolutely no intention of that. He was going to stay here forever, discovering her body, drawing out those delicious, helpless cries.

  Diana, it seemed, had other ideas. He’d only brought her to one shuddering, intoxicating climax when she pounded a fist against his shoulder.

  “Clothes,” she ordered. “Off. Now.”

  She was his mate. Whatever she wanted, he had to provide.

  Once he’d stripped every last item from her incredible body, he had to pause again. Not for control this time—though he was so hard it hurt—but just in sheer awestruck appreciation. Splayed out on the green grass, Diana was a work of art. He could stare at her for hours.

  She folded her arms behind her head, arching her back, and Callum abruptly reconsidered. He needed to be inside her, now. He struggled with his own clothes, hands clumsy on his belt.

  “Oh yes,” Diana purred. Her eyes were dark with desire, hungry and possessive. Her legs fell open in invitation. “Callum. Yes.”

  He fitted himself to her, claiming her mouth once more. His straining cock parted her wet folds—not entering, not yet, not yet—and they both gasped.

  “Callum,” Diana groaned. “Please. Now!”

  Her hips jerked. She rubbed herself against his hardness, hot and wet, and it was all he could do not to plunge straight into her. He pulled away a little, clenching his teeth until his jaw ached, arms shaking with the effort of holding back.

  “Diana,” he gritted out. “I want to mate you.”

  Her fingernails dug into his sides. “Yes. Yes.”

  “You don’t—” She ground against him again, and he bit back a curse. “You don’t understand. Not just sex. More. A joining of souls. Permanent.”

  She stilled underneath him, her dark eyes searching his face. “You mean magic?”

  “Yes. Magic. We’ll be bound together. Always.”

  Diana’s hands came up, strokin
g through his hair, holding his head. She pulled him down to her lips. He felt her smile.

  “Callum,” she whispered. “We already are.”

  Her hips moved once more, and this time there was no holding back. He slid into her, deep and hard, and it was better than good, better than dreams, better than anything he could ever have imagined.

  She embraced him, strong and silky and wet. For once, the rest of the world fell away. There was only Diana. He lost himself, lost everything but her, thrusting in total abandon. She urged him on, shuddering around him, taking all of him and demanding more.

  “Callum!” Diana shrieked, her body arcing underneath him, tightening around him one final time. “Callum!”

  He let out a feral snarl, all human language gone. He emptied himself into her in white-hot pulses. And as ecstasy blasted through him, he felt her join him there too; her soul, bright and breathtaking, striking through him like lightning.

  Claiming him forever.

  Chapter 18

  Maurice jerked at the handcuffs again. Fresh blood trickled down his wrists. The steel links didn’t budge.

  He let out a long, heartfelt string of swearwords, which didn’t help relieve his feelings at all. Maurice slumped against the wall, gritting his teeth, waiting for the pain to recede enough for him to try again.

  He had to break these damned cuffs. Once the Shifter Affairs spooks took him away, his chances of escape would drop to a big fat zero. His next prison would be a lot more secure than this mere human holding cell, with its pathetic concrete walls and steel bars.

  If he could shift, he could phase and walk straight out of here, and there wouldn’t be a thing anyone could do to stop him. Not even that creepy Asian bitch with her mind tricks, or her hulking kitty bodyguard.

  Maurice tried to shift again, but his inner hellhound backed away, refusing to come out. Can’t. Too tight.

  “We don’t have a choice, you dumb dog,” Maurice said under his breath. “Come on, it’s just a bit of steel. Shift it with us!”

  Can’t, his hellhound whined. Not ours. Not part of us. Don’t like it.

  “You’re gonna like shifter prison a fuckton less,” Maurice growled. “We have to get out of here.”

  Maurice cursed the damn firefighter again for somehow forcing him to give his real name. Once the spooks started combing through his record, it was only a matter of time before they joined up the dots with some old, unsolved cases. If he didn’t get out of here fast, he could kiss his freedom goodbye forever. If he was lucky, and the judge was feeling lenient.

  If not…

  Maurice set his jaw, and grimly started yanking at the cuffs again.

  I can help you.

  Maurice paused. “Well, why didn’t you say so earlier, you stupid mutt?”

  His inner animal flattened its ears uneasily. That wasn’t me.

  No. The foreign voice slithered through his head. It was me.

  His hellhound growled, fur raising. The hair on the back of Maurice’s neck prickled too. He shot to his feet, raising his shackled hands defensively.

  “Who’s there?” he snarled.

  A friend.

  Maurice pressed his back into the corner of his cell, swiveling his head. He couldn’t see much of the corridor beyond his barred door, but he couldn’t smell anyone. As far as he could tell, he was alone.

  He swallowed, trying to hide his growing unease. “If this is another of your freaky mind tricks, you fox-faced bitch--”

  Soft laughter curled through his head. No. I am not the agent you fear so deliciously. I am your salvation. Your prayers have been heard, faithful hound. The queen has sent me in answer.

  Something about that hissing, amused voice made him press back harder into the corner. Still, he wasn’t in a position to be picky.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re yakking about,” he said. “And I don’t care, as long as you can get me out of this cell. But first I want to see who I’m talking to.”

  Very well.

  Something scurried out of the shadows, in the corridor beyond his cell. Something small and gray and fluffy, with eyes like red sparks. At first glance, it looked like a squirrel…but no squirrel had fangs that sharp and pointed.

  And no squirrel had small, curving horns jutting from its forehead.

  Maurice recoiled. You didn’t spend as long as he had in Lupa’s pack without learning what those meant. There was a demon curled up in the squirrel’s body, its true nature twisting the rodent’s form into something closer to its real shape.

  “You’re one of them,” he said uneasily. “Lupa’s…pets.”

  The animal twitched its whiskers, looking amused. Not a pet. Oh, very much not a pet. But you should be less concerned about what I am, and more about what I can give you.

  It sat up. Gripped between those jagged, not-at-all rodent-like fangs was a small, shiny key.

  Maurice hurled himself against the cell door, revulsion forgotten. “Give me that!”

  The demon skipped away, easily evading his grasp. Not yet. Not until we have a bargain.

  Maurice cast a wary glance at the security camera blinking in one corner of his cell. He crouched down, blocking the demon from view. “Did Lupa send you?”

  No. The queen Herself. The demon flicked an ear. She is uncertain of Her scion’s loyalty, after recent events. Lupa grows less obedient. The queen does not think that she will do what must be done. You, however, are not so tender-hearted. You are the tool we need.

  Maurice still had no idea who this so-called queen was, but he didn’t much care. “Fine. Whatever you want, I’m your man. I’ll do anything. No problem.”

  You accept this bargain willingly? You will carry out the queen’s will without question? You will give your soul to Her service?

  No, Maurice’s inner hellhound said suddenly. He felt it tugging at him, like a needy dog latching its teeth into its owner’s sleeve. No!

  Maurice kicked his animal to the back of his mind, ignoring its whimpers. “Yes. Whatever. Long live her Majesty, whoever the fuck she is. Now give me the damn key!”

  Hold out your hand first. To seal the deal.

  Maurice started to do so…and then hesitated. Lupa kept her demon-things out of sight of the pack most of the time, but he’d seen her feeding one once. Seen the mangy, mutated squirrel sink its fangs into a bound, struggling wolf; seen the light fade from the squirrel’s eyes, and the wolf’s light up with an evil red glow…

  “You ain’t gonna bite me, are you?” he said warily.

  No. The demon’s lips wrinkled back from its fangs. It sounded surly now. I am hungry, but my queen has other plans for you. I swear in Her name that I will not harm you.

  Maurice hesitated, but he was shit out of options. Reluctantly, he put his hand through the bars.

  The demon bared its teeth again, and Maurice instinctively jerked back—but the creature only bit its own paw. Blood welled from the wound, black and strange. It smelled wrong, like ditchwater and rot.

  Maurice’s skin crawled as the demon crawled over the back of his hand. The smear of blood it left behind shimmered and twisted into some kind of symbol, all on its own.

  There, the demon said, sitting back on its haunches. You are Hers now.

  Maurice tried to wipe the blood off on his pants, but the symbol stayed put. It looked like a curled snake with horns. Well, it wasn’t the worst tattoo he’d ever gotten.

  “Okay, you did your thing, I swore my oath, we’re all good,” he said, privately resolving to run as fast and far away as he could the instant he was out of here. “Hand over the fucking key!”

  The demon flicked its head, opening its jaws. Maurice dove after the key as it skidded into the cell.

  He almost had the handcuffs unlocked when he felt claws scrabbling at his pants. He yelped, trying to kick the demon off.

  Peace, new cousin. I swore I would not bite you. The squirrel scurried up his back. I am merely hitching a ride.

  Maurice shuddered
, but let the thing perch on his shoulder. He could kill it later. Right now he had to get out of here.

  Dropping to all fours, he shifted. The world blurred into gray shadows as he stepped sideways, into that weird wherever-it-was that his hellhound could take him. Maurice had never cared how his hellhound power worked, as long as it could get him out of a sticky situation.

  He sprang forward. In this place, the wall was no obstacle. He passed through it as easily as jumping through smoke, and kept running. Distance worked differently, here. In mere minutes, he’d left the town behind.

  Keep running, his hellhound urged him. The stupid beast cowered in his head, shivering like a beaten puppy. Don’t shift back, not ever. Stay here, where we’re safe.

  No, said a different voice. The demon’s tail tightened around his throat. It was still on him, clinging to the back of his neck. Maurice felt the warning prick of its claws. That’s far enough. Turn back into a man, so you can listen.

  Maurice dropped out of hellspace, and straightened back up on two legs. Quick as a flash, he snatched the demon off his neck, flinging the writhing creature away. “I got what I wanted. What the fuck makes you think I need to listen to you now?”

  Something moved in his mind.

  Maurice froze, every muscle in his body locking up in sheer terror, as that alien presence shoved his whimpering hellhound aside. He didn’t see anything, but he could feel something hanging over him, cold and inescapable. He could feel it opening vast, burning eyes.

  Something huge, and old, and very, very hungry.

  Not to me. The demon struggled back to its feet, baring its fangs at him in a sneer. To Her.

  Chapter 19

  Diana lay with her head resting on Callum’s chest, his arm warm around her. Despite the chill autumnal breeze, she wasn’t the slightest bit cold. She felt like she was floating in a hot bath, every part of her simultaneously heavy with exhaustion and weightless with bliss.

  Mine, she thought wonderingly, listening to the slow, steady beat of Callum’s heart. She could feel it, inside her own chest, warming her from within. My mate.