BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection)

by Candace Ayers

  She playfully fumed beside him and then decided to relax.

  It was a nice day, she was with her gorgeous husband, and they were to spend their happily ever after together— but apparently not until they had ridden to out in the middle of nowhere as slowly as possible. Was this a town tradition?

  Bloomed azalea bushes lined both sides of the road. Amber thought it rather late in the season for them to still be in bloom, but let it go. And where there were gaps between the bushes, there were fully opened dandelions replete with bees going from bloom to bloom. Far south, low on the horizon, there was a pocket of storm clouds. It was no threat to them, and was in absolute contrast to the beautiful crisp blue sky pocketed with small puffs of meandering cumulus clouds.

  Amber let out a nice long sigh, and eased into Dunstan.

  “Geographically speaking,” Dunstan said, “the Ashton Mountains and the Bowlands Mountains are not that far apart. If we were clouds, we’d think them a stone’s throw distance apart.”

  Amber raised her eyebrows. Who was the geography teacher suddenly in Dunstan’s body? He never talked geography, nor did anyone else she knew. Why he was doing so right now went beyond her.

  “And that storm is coming north,” he continued. “Interesting thing about storms is that they follow the lay of the land. The sun’s constant beating down on the land creates hot spots, and those hot spot become ripples, and those ripples become currents of air. And so there is this whole traffic pattern of weather that will never really drastically change. That storm is going to come this way and the mountains will further guide it to where they want it to go.

  “Sometimes storms can get caught between mountains, and they’ll bounce back and forth between the peaks until they’ve exhausted themselves. I saw it plenty of times as a child while hiding in Bowlands. I always loved to watch storms, and I’d watch a good thunderstorm for hours on end. On a few occasions, not many, but a few, I saw something miraculous happen. Another storm would come after the first had been there for almost a day, and the two storms would collide and merge until they were so massive and powerful that together, they were able to spill out of the two mountains and continue their way, now together and acting as one.

  “I think of myself as that first storm. Alone, dying, and unable to move— until you came along. Without you, Amber, I would have let myself become consumed and defeated in Bowlands. I would have fought, but I wouldn’t have fought hard enough. You came in and turned it all around. You got me out of the woods, Amber, and for that I’ll always love you.”

  Tears fell from Amber’s eyes and she made no move to wipe them.

  “We got each other out,” she said, and jumped into him for a kiss.

  She gripped his shirt and gazed longingly into his eyes.

  She could get lost in his eyes.

  “Where are you taking me, you fool,” she said playfully.

  Dunstan brought the horses to a stop and said, “Right here, actually.”

  Amber looked around. The road remained unchanged. They hadn’t gotten anywhere. Flowers were blooming, bees were buzzing, it was perfectly pleasant, but—

  “To your left,” Dunstan said and pointed.

  There was an archway, overgrown with roses, and through that archway was a path between shoulder high green hedges. Amber could just barely make out that there was a clearing beyond.

  “Where are we?” Amber asked.

  “Come on,” Dunstan said. “Let’s go see.”

  The path through the arch and between the hedges was lined with amber colored stones, and if Amber had known where they were walking she might have noticed this small detail, but she was confused and excited, and gripped Dunstan’s hand nervously. They walked through another archway and wound around a few oaks before Amber understood.

  “Do you like it?” Dunstan asked. “While you and Jessica were planning the wedding, Martin, William and I were doing this. The land was cleared out sometime ago, but no one ever used it.”

  A freshly painted white stone cottage with diamond windows and a straw roof stood in the middle of the clearing. Flower boxes hung from each window, and a tall chimney stood erect in the middle.

  Amber turned to him and whispered, “You made this?”

  “With William and Martin’s help, yes. I could have done it myself, but I was in a hurry.”

  Amber didn’t say anything and walked around the white cottage. Grasshoppers jumped out of her way, and unseen birds took flight.

  On the southern end of the house was a glassed in porch where on the inside was a little table with two chairs.

  She continued walking around. On the eastern side of the house was a lush green lawn with two chairs facing east— presumably to watch the sunrise. Amber ran her hand along them in a daze.

  “Well’s over there,” Dunstan said, nervously. “That took the longest to make— not that water’s scarce or anything. Just took a while to make secure. Wanted to make it as safe as possible in case we have kids.”

  “In case?” Amber asked.

  “We’ve never talked about it. And I don’t know—” Dunstan stopped himself and changed topics: “You haven’t said anything, Amber. Do you like it? Should I have asked you what you wanted? Are we too far from Bruton? As a wolf I can get us there in a matter of seconds, and as you’ve seen it’s only a twenty minute ride by horse. I just thought that maybe you, like me, would want a little space from Bruton. But if not the mayor says that the lot where my parents’ house was is still mine if I want it. We could build something there if—”

  “Dunstan, it’s perfect,” Amber said, turning and looking at him. Dunstan relaxed and smiled weakly. “This is the most beautiful house I could ever imagine. And of course I want your kids. Of course. We’re going to fill this house up with beautiful children. It’s not too far from Bruton. It’s perfect. I’m so excited to spend every day here with you! To watch the sunrise right here, to drink tea with you in there. What are we waiting for! Take me inside!” Her eyes pooled with tears and all the love in her heart shone in her smile.

  Dunstan’s dimpled grin spread across his handsome face. His strong arms scooped her up and carried her across their new threshold.

  EPILOGUE

  “Haven’t been to the ocean since I got pregnant,” Amber said to Jessica as they both waddled down East High Street. “I’m spoiled rotten,” Amber continued. “I know it. But I do miss the waves.”

  “You could do like the rest of us do,” Jessica said, “And take a carriage there. It wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Mrs. Sadler says long carriage rides are a bad idea this late in term,” Amber said.

  “Oh, that’s right,” Jessica said. “I forgot that.”

  The two women lowered down to one of the benches on the outskirts of Town Square. “What are you thinking of naming this one?” Jessica asked, rubbing her stomach.

  “We named Connie after his mother,” Amber said. “If it’s a boy, I want to name him after Spratling. Seems fitting.”

  “Has Connie shown any signs of…,”

  “The demon?” Amber clarified. “She’s remarkably physical. Can jump way higher than any child should, and loves to climb. I wouldn’t be surprised, Jessica. I really wouldn’t. I’m going to turn around one day and find her wagging a tail at me, I just know it.”

  “That wouldn’t be the end of the world, though, would it?” Jessica asked.

  “No,” Amber said. “Because I know she’ll be good.”

  The two women watched the town go about and shared a loaf of bread from the bakery. Neither of them seemed to be capable of eating enough these days.

  “What’s William up to today?” Amber asked.

  “In Bowlands, trading with the wolves. Trying to convince them we trust them well enough to come into town if they want. They prefer the woods, though. They may be broken, but they still want to sleep outside. Oh, and they’ve just about got all the trees cleared off of Avondale. We may one day in the not too distant future be able to
take a wagon to Pentworth again.”

  “And Martin? He and Mara Thompson have a date yet?”

  “They’re both autumn babies. They’re zeroing in on a day in the fall, I think,” Jessica answered, mouth full of bread.

  Amber smiled. She had never known that happiness like this could exist.

  Good food. Good company. A wonderful husband. A beautiful baby girl with another well on the way. No threat from any direction, including the west. Life was good.

  “Goin’ to the Spring festival?” Jessica asked.

  “I don’t know,” Amber said. “They’re not as fun as they used to be.”

  The two women laughed.

  Future generations could only hope to be as strong as theirs, but they wouldn’t have to be. All was well.

  THE END

  THE CRY OF THE MOON

  By Sheila Codner

  STORY DESCRIPTION

  Remy is a lone wolf by choice. A pureblood wolf shifter, she prefers to remain removed from the violent ways of the shifter packs.

  Her conviction to travel solo is threatened when she meets an injured stranger. The handsome man is feverish and delirious, and Remy has two choices: help him, or leave him to what will be a certain death.

  Will Remy regret her choice to nurse the handsome stranger back to health?

  Will the stranger be able to convince Remy to abandon her self-imposed exile and be his mate?

  1: Remy

  All my life revolved around the moon. It was the silver orb that kept me awake, that kept me feeling alive. No matter the weather, if the moon was out then so was I. It was all I had. Life was never right on the nights in darkness and things only grew normal once the moon was again a little crescent waxing and waning just for me.

  It was my only friend, my one true companion. You could almost hear it whisper as the sun set, sharing tales of old glory. All night long, it would shine bright and proud in a language I spent forever trying to comprehend. It gave me the comfort and inspiration that I needed, guiding me when I was alone. It was a good friend, always there and confident.

  My life was far from one of confidence and constancy for I was always on the move. Being a friend of the moon rarely allowed for time with others. It was a lonely life, but I learned to adapt. Still, it was the only life I knew, running from place to place on two legs or four.

  And so it was on a stormy night that I ran from cottage to cottage, carrying my things in a sack over my shoulder with my bare feet squelching in the mud. I tried to block out everything but the silver orb above; it was still just a growing crescent, but it was better than nothing. The lightning struck just ahead, and I flinched. I had never liked storms. I hiked up my skirts with my free hand, praying to the moon I wouldn’t slip.

  As bad as it was, the storm couldn’t stop me now. I had to push off for the torches were growing closer. It wasn’t an unfamiliar image as I glanced back and tried to hurry on. They thought they were taking down a witch and that witches were weak. But they didn’t know what I really was and they didn’t know I had just been saving my strength. Turning my head forward again, my path was before me with a straight shot out of town. It was time. They gasped and came to an abrupt halt in surprise when I changed form.

  With the moon in its third quarter, I could feel the tremor of excitement, my soul ready to jump and be on the move. The fight between the wolf and the human was a lively one, more of a tease after my years of experience. I used that energy to push me on, as fast as possible. And I was fast. We were going to have a blue moon soon, and just that expectation was enough to drive me on and provide the strength I needed to run.

  Soon enough I passed the final cottage in the discriminatory town. I made my way towards the trees; in seconds I was drenched and the mud grew slicker but I didn’t dare stop. On and on I ran for a good part of the night until my limbs were weary. When I finally halted, I had found a fairly dry grove, too thick so show the moon or allow for rain. I changed back and put on clothes from my sack, draping my cloak around my shoulders against the chill.

  Sighing, I rubbed my arms and tried to wipe away the raindrops on my skin. Green grass crowded around my feet as I trudged around, just making sure I was alone. The trees here were large and young, their smallest branches reaching my hips. The empty space was interrupted by several large berry bushes and much of the ground was covered in thick, soft moss. Squeezing the water from my hair, I pinned it up against my head and stamped my feet for warmth. There were a few bugs and three frogs nearby, but otherwise this dry spot was all mine. When I was satisfied that I was merely damp and slowly drying, I took to one side of the grove and sat down against the largest tree.

  I was beginning to drowse when a strange scent came my way. My eyes pierced the gray fog around the small grove as someone arrived. Holding my breath, I sat still as a stone. It was a human, one who collapsed two steps out of the rain. He couldn’t see me with the bushes separating us, but I didn’t let up on my watch. I ran sleep off and waited for movement, but the man didn’t move again for several hours, exhausted and injured.

  The storm drove on and soon I was watching him because I simply couldn’t take my eyes off him. Two steps away, and we would be touching. He was a young man with long dark hair and a small scar on his temple. His lips were full and once in a while his face contorted into one of pain where I finally noticed there was a gaping wound on his far right shoulder. There was so much mud in it that I had never smelled the blood. A handsome man, but one who had obviously gotten himself into a spot of trouble.

  After the lightening stopped, the rain continued and left me waiting for a dry spell. Because as still as he might have been, I didn’t want another run in with a human. I could not rest well in case he woke and saw something he didn’t like. I tried to sit more comfortably and moved to another tree closer to the bushes and thus closer to him. He was wetter than I was if that was possible.

  Finally, the rain stopped and the sun began to peek through the trees, telling us it was morning. I stretched and wondered what to do next, when I heard the man groan.

  I froze, and turned to look over my shoulder. He moaned another time, coughed, but he never opened his eyes. Without the storm dulling my senses, I realized a fever had come upon him. I considered my choices and the risks, and sighed. Even though mankind was dangerous, I couldn’t just leave him to die. I opened my large sack, spilling the few contents out, and untied the knots to open it into the blanket it once was. Shaking off the dirt, I quietly walked over and draped it over the human.

  For a moment, I watched him. His face relaxed and he smelled strongly of fire and iron. When his breathing steadied, I moved away and returned to my side of the bushes to think. Humans weren’t evil, they were just protective and cautious. I couldn’t blame them for that, and I was still one of their kind at the end of the day. They weren’t all evil, and I was sometimes the party to blame for the occasional anger sent my way.

  Sitting back on the tree roots, I wrinkled my nose at my sore bones. Dreaming of the day I would get a perfect rest, I tried to close my eyes for a while. All the same, it didn’t come and I found myself constantly looking back to the man. A few hours later, he stirred again and I didn’t take my eyes off him for a long time after that. When the sun began to set once more, I used the shadows to walk around to find water to clean the bloody wound on the man’s shoulder. However, there wasn’t much I could reach with him lying on his back, so I did what I could and finally retreated back to my spot.

  Exhausted, I dozed off and when I woke, he was staring at me. There was a hole between the bushes and his eyes were unblinking. I gaped in disbelief. I should have heard him even in my sleep. He laid there against the tree trunk, watching me. Instantly alert, I leveled my gaze back at him. It was because of him I was still there, after all. I wasn’t able to convince myself to leave behind a suffering man. But as I watched him, I wondered if it was the right thing to do.

  “Who are you?” He asked. His eyes were hooded
by pain and I could tell he wanted to appear threatening, but I doubted he could have moved a muscle. He wasn’t even sitting up completely, most likely too shaky. Even from a distance I knew his temperature was much too high and I wondered if he might be delirious and wasn’t even seeing the real me.

  He waited and so I took my time, standing and stretching out my aching muscles as I contemplated on what to say. If I should even say anything. I could leave this moment and we might be the better for it. At least, I would be. I wasn’t sure about him. He was only human and I was so much more.

  That’s why there was little point in lying. Nothing I said would change the facts. “A wanderer. You can call me Remy. Who did that to your shoulder?”

  He looked at me for a long minute. I waited for his eyes to roll into the back of his skull, but he finally spoke again. “I fell. Benjamin is what they call me.”

  A small whispering of a scent and I knew his lie. I read it in the tingle of his arteries and the skip of his heartbeat. I walked over and he fought to maintain his demeanor even as I dropped by his side and pulled him closer to a sitting position to check his shoulder. As always, my senses were right and I rolled my eyes at the jagged tears. “Did you fall on a dog, then, Benjamin?”

  Carefully I set him back down and he grimaced. His thick red lips pulled back as he shook his head reluctantly. He wiped his brow clean of sweat but it didn’t help his sickly pallor. “How do you know?”

  “I can still smell it on you. You already have a fever. I’ve got a needle and thread, if you like, but wasn’t about to patch you up if you were prone to moving.” I heard his heartbeat quicken and hid a smile. If I was going to stay at all, I wasn’t just going to sit there. I was beginning to hate myself for insisting on doing this, but it was go big or go home. And I didn’t have a home.