1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Twelve

by Alexandra Ivy

  He dropped his hand and snarled, shame glistening in his eyes.

  “I see what you’re doing,” she said, her hands going to his face now, forcing him to look at her, deep into her eyes. “Don’t go there with me. Not ever. I’m not them. I see you, Simon. Do you understand me? I see you.”

  “I know you do,” he said on a rush of breath.

  Again, her heart squeezed. “Really?”

  His eyes locked with hers. They were stormy blue, but it was a storm that raged from love.

  “I wanted to bring you here,” she continued, her voice breaking with emotion, “because I was hoping you’d change your feelings about the Wildlands. I was hoping that if you had a cat, it could be released by someone who cared about you so deeply you actually felt it, knew it in your heart—without them around, without those horrible pieces of—”

  She started to cry, for real now. Great big tears forming in her eyes and falling on her cheeks. “Goddess, I’m a mess. This isn’t how I am. Or wasn’t. It’s tearing me up, Simon. I didn’t know I could feel like this.”

  “I understand. I do. Hush now.” He took her in his arms and held her close. “Love does some crazy shit, ma chère.”

  She let him hold her. For several seconds. Reveled in his warmth and protection. But it couldn’t be forever. Not until she said what she needed to say. Pulling away, her eyes found his once again. “Listen—”

  “Kitten, you don’t have to say anything more.”

  “Yes, I do,” she insisted, passionately. “If you can’t be mine…” Her voice broke again. “If you can’t...will you at least forgive me before you release me?”

  He gazed at her, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t name. And then he leaned in and kissed the top of her head, whispered into her hair, “I can’t, Tryst.”

  “Oh, Simon...” she cried, wanting to die, wanting to run, wanting to scream and beg and—

  “I can’t release you.”

  Tryst froze, pulled back. “What?”

  He tipped her chin up and wiped the tears from her eyes. Then he kissed her gently on the mouth. “Oh, kitten, there’s nothing to forgive. It was a miracle. I actually found peace here. For the first time in my life.” He smiled at her, lovingly, adoringly. “And I found you. My mate.”

  Her heart filled to bursting and she smiled through a fresh batch of tears. “Yes. Yours. Out of the Wildlands—”

  “And in,” he finished.

  Crying out, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, hard and long and sweet and true. And when he eased back, his nose resting against hers, and whispered the words, “My home” and “My Tryst” against her lips, she finally understood the true meaning of the word “mate.”

  It wasn’t about claiming at all. It was about connecting.

  Two Hearts.

  Two minds.

  One soul.

  Forever.

  * * * *

  Also from 1001 Dark Nights and Alexandra Ivy and Laura Wright, discover Rage/Killian and Blade.

  About Alexandra Ivy and Laura Wright

  Alexandra Ivy is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Guardians of Eternity, as well as the Sentinels, Dragons of Eternity and ARES series. After majoring in theatre she decided she prefers to bring her characters to life on paper rather than stage. She lives in Missouri with her family. Visit her website at alexandraivy.com.

  New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author, Laura Wright is passionate about romantic fiction. Though she has spent most of her life immersed in acting, singing and competitive ballroom dancing, when she found the world of writing and books and endless cups of coffee she knew she was home. Laura is the author of the bestselling Mark of the Vampire series and the USA Today bestselling series, Bayou Heat, which she co-authors with Alexandra Ivy.

  Laura lives in Los Angeles with her husband, two young children and three loveable dogs.

  Discover More Alexandra Ivy and Laura Wright

  Rage/Killian

  Bayou Heat Novellas

  Click here to purchase.

  RAGE

  Rage might be an aggressive Hunter by nature, but the gorgeous male has never had a problem charming the females. All except Lucie Gaudet. Of course, the lovely Geek is a born troublemaker, and it was no surprise to Rage when she was kicked out of the Wildlands.

  But now the Pantera need a first-class hacker to stop the potential destruction of their people. And it’s up to Rage to convince Lucie to help. Can the two forget the past—and their sizzling attraction—to save the Pantera?

  KILLIAN

  Gorgeous, brutal, aggressive, and human, Killian O’Roarke wants only two things: to get rid of the Pantera DNA he’s been infected with, and get back to the field. But the decorated Army Ranger never bargained on meeting the woman—the female—of his dreams on his mission to the Wildlands.

  Rosalie lost her mate to a human, and now the Hunter despises them all. In fact, she thinks they’re good for only one thing: barbeque. But this one she’s guarding is testing her beliefs. He is proud and kind, and also knows the pain of loss. But in a time of war between their species, isn’t any chance of love destined for destruction?

  * * * *

  Blade

  A Bayou Heat Novella

  Click here to purchase.

  Sexy Suit, Blade was held captive and abused for decades. Benson Enterprises was desperate to use his superior blood to create super soldiers. But when he’s finally rescued, he can’t return to the Wildlands with the other prisoners. Not without the female he was forced to watch being impregnated. The female who has gone missing.

  Beautiful and broken, Valli just wants to run away and never look back. But with the shocking news of her pregnancy fresh in her mind, she wonders if that’s even possible. Told by her captors that one of the caged animals assaulted her, she knows she must do everything in her power to keep her unborn child safe. But when a glorious male tracks her down and claims her and her baby as his own, will she have the strength to walk away?

  Strung Up

  A Blacktop Cowboys® Novella

  By Lorelei James

  Also from Lorelei James

  Rough Riders Series – Erotic Western Romance

  LONG HARD RIDE

  RODE HARD

  COWGIRL UP AND RIDE

  TIED UP, TIED DOWN

  ROUGH, RAW AND READY

  STRONG SILENT TYPE (novella)

  BRANDED AS TROUBLE

  SHOULDA BEEN A COWBOY

  ALL JACKED UP

  RAISING KANE

  SLOW RIDE (short story)

  COWGIRLS DON’T CRY

  CHASIN’ EIGHT

  COWBOY CASANOVA

  KISSIN’ TELL

  GONE COUNTRY

  SHORT RIDES (anthology)

  REDNECK ROMEO

  COWBOY TAKE ME AWAY

  LONG TIME GONE (novella)

  Rough Riders Legacy Series – Contemporary New Adult Romance

  UNBREAK MY HEART

  PIECE OF MY HEART (FALL 2017)

  Blacktop Cowboys® Series – Erotic Western Romance

  CORRALLED

  SADDLED AND SPURRED

  WRANGLED AND TANGLED

  ONE NIGHT RODEO

  TURN AND BURN

  HILLBILLY ROCKSTAR

  ROPED IN (novella)

  STRIPPED DOWN (novella)

  WRAPPED AND STRAPPED

  HANG TOUGH

  TRIPPED OUT (novella)

  Mastered Series – Erotic Romance

  BOUND

  UNWOUND

  SCHOOLED (digital only novella)

  UNRAVELED

  CAGED

  Need You Series – Contemporary Romance

  WHAT YOU NEED

  JUST WHAT I NEEDED

  ALL YOU NEED

  WHEN I NEED YOU

  Single Title Novels

  RUNNING WITH THE DEVIL – Erotic Suspense

  DIRTY DEEDS – Contemporary Romance

  Wild West Bo
ys Series – Contemporary Romance

  MISTRESS CHRISTMAS (novella)

  MISS FIRECRACKER (novella)

  Single Title Novellas

  LOST IN YOU (short novella) – Contemporary Romance

  WICKED GARDEN – Erotic Romance

  BALLROOM BLITZ – Contemporary Romance

  Mystery Novels Written As Lori Armstrong

  Julie Collins Series – Private Eye Mystery

  BLOOD TIES

  HALLOWED GROUND

  SHALLOW GRAVE

  SNOW BLIND

  DEAD FLOWERS (novella)

  BAITED (novella)

  Mercy Gunderson Series – Army Sniper/Native American Mystery

  NO MERCY

  MERCY KILL

  MERCILESS

  DOUBLE SHOT OF MERCY – Short Stories coming fall 2017

  Prologue

  Cres

  I believe that love is stronger than death.

  That had become my mantra, my focal point in the last seven days, ten hours, and thirty-four minutes since the highway patrolman had knocked on my door.

  I’m sorry to inform you that Michael Darby was involved in an accident and died at the scene. He listed you as his emergency contact.

  The rest of what he’d said had been a blur.

  At first I thought there’d been a mistake. Michael Darby and Mick Darby. I’d never called him Michael. He never called himself Michael. So maybe the cops had it wrong. Maybe there was another person’s life they should be destroying with this bad news that their lover was dead.

  So I argued.

  Then the officer calmly pulled Mick’s driver’s license out of the leather wallet I’d given him for Christmas.

  And then I knew it was true.

  Mick was dead.

  How could he be dead?

  How was that fucking fair? He’d survived four wartime deployments overseas during his military career. Four years in hell. Only to be killed by a jack slipping and crushing him beneath the wheel of a car.

  The injustice infuriated me. Mick being a good guy once again. The Samaritan who always stopped to help. Only this time his helpful nature had gotten him killed.

  I wanted to yell at him for being so stupid.

  But I’d never get to yell at him again. Or laugh with him. Or touch him. Or tell him I loved him.

  He knew. Because you reminded him of that every day.

  “Let us pray,” the minister announced.

  I bowed my head. But my focus wasn’t on the minister’s pointless platitudes. Instead I studied the shoes of the other four people in the front pew with me, all with one commonality—each pair was black. Mick’s father wore polished dress cowboy boots. Mick’s mother had opted for closed-toe pumps. Mick’s sister Aria had chosen wedges. Mick’s brother Sam had donned loafers.

  I had Mick’s favorite pair of boots on my feet. It’d been a joke between us that since we were the same size in clothing and footwear, we’d doubled the size of our wardrobes when he’d moved in with me.

  I’d felt the need to wear him today. His boots, his socks, his belt, his T-shirt beneath his white dress shirt. The suit was mine. The tie was his.

  Had been his.

  Fuck. Would I ever get used to thinking of him in the past tense?

  “Amen.”

  I raised my head.

  Music played behind us. The organ made the tune nearly unrecognizable until the singer started “Let It Be” by the Beatles.

  I closed my eyes. Please be a shitty rendition that’s way the fuck out of tune. Please garble the words so I can’t understand them.

  But short of jamming my fingers in my ears and singing la-la-la…I couldn’t tune it out.

  It was beautifully sung. Poignant. I wouldn’t cry. Not because I thought I was too tough to publicly show that I’d had my guts and my heart ripped out. But because if I started to bawl, I might not be able to stop.

  Finally, the song ended.

  Then the service ended.

  I felt as if my world had ended.

  Everyone stood as the urn was wheeled out. Now we’d make the sixty-mile drive to the veteran’s cemetery in Miles City. Mick would have the military burial he deserved. Then we’d return to the Darby’s house for the repast with his friends and his family that I didn’t know, talking about “Michael,” the man I hadn’t known at all.

  Outside on the sidewalk in front of the small white church, I looked up at the steeple as the bell eerily clanged a death toll. Mick’s family had told me this was where Mick had been baptized and confirmed. They’d probably hoped he’d be married here. Instead he’d been eulogized.

  I had a hard time wrapping my head around the fact Mick had decided on all of his funeral details prior to his first deployment. It didn’t matter that ten years had passed. It didn’t matter that I was his lover and partner now; I’d had no input regarding the ceremony.

  What would you have done differently?

  “Cres? You ready?”

  I glanced at my brother Wyn. Both my brothers and their wives had driven to Montana for this, even after I’d told them they didn’t have to come. But now, as I watched Mick’s family climb into the limo—they claimed there was no room for me—I was glad my family was here. I wouldn’t be forced to make the drive to Miles City by myself.

  If you were here by yourself you wouldn’t go to the cemetery. You’d jump in your truck and haul ass back to Colorado. Because Mick isn’t in that urn. He won’t know that you skipped out on the interment. Mick’s family would rather you weren’t there because then they won’t have to justify why they’re being handed the folded flag instead of you.

  But would he have wanted me to have it? Since my presence and my role in his life had come as a shock to his family?

  They believed—Mick had told them—that I was his roommate.

  His fucking roommate.

  The lie—his lie—had sliced a jagged cut to my soul that left a scar straight down to the bone.

  I heard Mick’s justification in my head as clearly as if he’d been in our bed next to me, whispering it in my ear. What does it matter? You know who you are to me. You know what you mean to me. They are my past. You are my future.

  And so I’d forgiven him before I had a chance to be mad at him.

  After today, it wouldn’t matter. I’d never see Mick’s family again, so I didn’t give a rat’s ass what they thought of me.

  “Creston? Are you ready?” my mom prompted.

  I shook my head. “I’m not going.”

  “Of course you’re going, sweetheart,” she said gently. “This final stage will be hard, but we’re all here for you.”

  “Fine. You go. I’ll meet you at the motel afterward. Or better yet, I’ll see you at home on the ranch.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous—”

  “Sue,” my father said sharply, “drop it. If he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t have to go.”

  Having my dad’s support meant everything to me. I looked at Wyn and Sutton.

  They nodded in solidarity.

  To keep myself from breaking down, I turned away and repeated my mantra.

  I believe that love is stronger than death.

  But I knew I’d never give love a chance to break me again.

  Chapter One

  Cres

  Two years later…

  “I don’t see why I need to go to this thing. It has nothin’ to do with me.”

  My brother Wyn paused long enough that I was forced to meet his gaze.

  I saw a hard look in his eyes and I knew I was totally fucked.

  “You are goin’ because more than half of your family is involved in this new venture. And you will show support for it and for your brother and sisters-in-law, Cres, if I have to hogtie you, prop you up in the corner and paint a goddamned smile on your face myself.”

  “Fine. Whatever. I’ll be there.” I slapped Petey on the rump and turned him out into the pasture to graze. I hefted the saddle off the fence and hauled it ins
ide the barn. When I returned for the saddle blanket and the rest of the tack, I saw that Wyn still rested against the corral, his arms crossed, probably waiting to rip into me some more.

  I ignored him.

  Wyn followed me into the tack room.

  I continued to ignore him.

  I took my time putting everything away in its proper place, hanging up the saddle blanket to dry before I faced him. “What? I said I’d be there.”

  “Good. We miss you,” he said softly.

  “You see me every damn day, Wyn.”

  He shook his head. “I work with you every day. Outside of that, we don’t see you.”

  I turned away. “You’ve got your own life with Mel and your son.” I didn’t point out it was the same situation with our other brother Sutton, his wife London, and their little boy, Brennen. I was the odd man out—in so many ways.

  “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty.”

  “I can drive myself.”

  “Nope. You’re goin’ with me. This is not negotiable.”

  Anger made me snap, “I said I’d be there. I don’t need a fucking escort.”

  “You brought this on yourself, Cres, since you haven’t shown up for any of the other family get-togethers in the past year after you promised you would. Not takin’ a chance this time. Besides, I need you to drive my truck back here. Melissa drove her car earlier today and we don’t need two vehicles there since we’re stayin’ overnight.”

  “So in addition to bein’ forced to attend this thing, I’ll also have to stay sober?”