by F. G. Adams
She releases a passionate scream as her womb holds me tighter, almost too painful to endure a moment more. I’m lost in pleasure as I erupt, streaming my hot cum into her.
Sometime later when our bodies cool and breathing returns to normal, I’m holding my precious mate, enjoying the time to reflect on how happy and complete she makes me.
“Did I really just grow fangs and drink your blood?” A giggle bubbles out of Wren.
Her laughter is contagious and I begin to chuckle. “Yes, my Wren. You’re an Enchanted Immortal Necromancer. When you feed, your magic provides a way even without you knowing. Your body requires blood for nourishment, and because you're with child, your taste for food hasn’t gone away. Does this change your feelings for me? For being my true mate?”
She gazes up at me with love and devotion and lays her hand over my heart. “I love you, Aldin. Forever.”
Twirling a curl of her long hair around my index finger, I tell her, “A long time ago, a young boy wished for money, women, and immortality. Not knowing what his heart truly desired. The folly of youth.” I chuckle when she slaps my chest. “None of that compares to you, my Wren. Little did I know that my greatest wish would be wrapped up in a feisty, blue-eyed doctor. My wish came true the day I found you.”
Epilogue
Wren
My life has been altered forever. I took a leave of absence from the hospital and that caused one chaotic mess. All of my patients were very understanding. It was the staff that didn’t understand why I would leave. In the end, my mother was the excuse. I hated using her as a crutch but it seemed it was the only way to hide what was happening to me. She was glad to contribute after all the darkness she’d been through. Also, it would be hard to explain, “Oh, by the way, I’m carrying a god in my belly.” Nope, no can do.
Baby Aldin is due any day now. We haven’t picked a name yet, so until then, I’ll use my nickname. I can’t wait to hold him in my arms and count his fingers and toes. He’s already smarter than the average womb baby. His emotions are getting stronger as he grows bigger. He sends thoughts in pictures, which blew my mind the first time it happened. Remarkable.
Aldin is perfect. Even with all of the doom and gloom happening around us, he never forgets to kiss me before he leaves or talks to our son via my belly. The link they share is amazing. Aldin always treats me like a princess, never taking anything for granted. Like I said: perfect. We still have a lot to overcome with Baako on the loose. The god of the night realm is one shady character wanting my baby’s body for his own. No way that’s ever going to happen as long as there is a breath left in me or my Aldin.
Aldin
The future is uncertain for the Enchanted Immortals. Baako’s unknown location and his desire for my son causes me to remain alert and ready for his attack at all times. The magical twins and Brenton Fox must obtain the sacred talisman in order to rid ourselves of him once and for all.
My newfound true mate helps ease the burden I carry. She completes me. To think that everything which has happened to me over the centuries has been foretold … a prophecy which involves me, my lovely Wren, our unborn godchild, Marcus, the twins, and Brenton Fox. We're stronger now as a whole, and because of that strength, we will win in the end.
Until that time comes, I will spend every waking moment enjoying my family. My family. Those two words hold such a powerful promise for me now. I still watch over my sister's descendants, but they are no longer the only reason for my existence. My Wren and our son … they are mine. I no longer feel alone, never to be forgotten.
Jada & Jazmine
We begin our journey to find the sacred talisman on the eve. Brenton Fox will be accompanying us and we are both joyful at the prospect of being one more step closer to unraveling the prophecy and returning Zenon and Augusta to the throne. Yet, Brenton causes a struggle to occur amongst ourselves. One of us wants nothing to do with him while the other relishes the idea of learning more about him. Marcus has warned him away. Will he abide by his wishes or do what he wants? A yearning deep inside us longs for him, but to act on an emotion when we have more important issues to handle, must be buried and forgotten. For now, our quest is paramount.
Brenton
Marcus’ warning rings in my head. He scared the shit out of me. To put it mildly: me, hunter; him, god. His sisters are sacred. I am not to touch them. They are not mere mortals, but divine creatures on a quest for the talisman needed to end their evil brother. Wow, who would have thought Agent Brenton Fox would be assisting two goddesses on a divine quest? Certainly, not me.
I’ve noticed Jada is the mouthy one and Jazmine is the softer one. Both cause me to growl when other men approach, and when Marcus touches them, a sensation of ripping him to shreds overtakes me. I have no right to feel this way—and especially about two women, at that. I’m drawn not by their beauty alone, but their souls. I want to lap their pouty red lips and caress the silky skin underneath the robes they garner. A powerful tug of war is taking root. I want them both. How will this quest turn out? What does the future hold? Nobody knows … not even me.
About the Author
F.G. Adams writes contemporary and paranormal romance about sexy alpha heroes and feisty-mouthed heroines. The wonder twins forming F.G. enjoy a healthy obsession of reading that started at a young age. Their books reflect an avid imagination that was cultivated by their grandmother who taught them the mind has no limits and to use both hands when reaching for the stars. Partners in writing, they both thrive on creating unique storylines for you, the reader, to enjoy.
When not writing, you can find them on a beach with their significant other enjoying the waves or riding a Harley on a country road somewhere in the USA.
Tell Us What You Think. Please leave a review. We enjoy hearing reader opinions about our books.
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Acknowledgments
First, we would like to thank our husbands for their never-give-up attitudes. For understanding the endless days of take-out, dirty laundry and short-answer conversations while we write. Your ideas, suggestions, and never-ending support goes to show that happily-ever-after happens outside of a book. Thanks for being awesome!
Lesley, Michelle, and Erin, thank you so much for everything. We use those words because we would be writing another book with all that you do for us. Chance brought you ladies into our life and we so grateful to be able to call you our friends.
Feisty Flock...you ladies are amazing. Your support is truly appreciated and we love you, all! Thank you for your endless dedication in helping to share and support our books.
Thank you Daryl Banner for your editing and formatting expertise. As always you have a way with taking something great and making it even better. Thanks to Mayhem Cover Creations for bringing our vision to life and creating a spectacular cover.
To all the bloggers and readers: Thanks for taking a chance and reading our book. After all, we wouldn’t be here without you!
xoxo
F.G. Adams
Also by F.G. Adams
Coming Next in the Enchanted Immortals Trilogy:
Book 2: Fox’s Awakening
Book 3: Marcus’ Vengeance
Other books by F.G. Adams:
Grayson: Book 1, This is Our Life series
Keagan: Book 2, This is Our Life series
Oliver: Book 3, This is Our Life series Release Notification
Continue reading the Prologue of Keagan.
Keagan
Prologue
Ominous black clouds loom over the horizon. The sky is darker than normal for this time of the afternoon. I survey the surrounding cliffs and open space through the standard issue binoculars in front of me. A lightning bolt streaks across the rolling clouds and thunder erupts some
where close by. In the distance the mountain peaks grant an eerie painting between the landscape of assorted trees, plants, and clouds.
The uncommonness of the weather isn’t easing the already tense group.
The entire team is on alert. When a loud crash of thunder echoes through the terrain, not one body shifts or twitches, all remaining frozen in their spot, etched into the scenery and only visible by the whites of their eyes.
We are scoping out another terrorist threat, a secluded hideout somewhere inside the enormous mountain before us. We need to locate an entry point and collect as much intel as possible without being detected. A ghost mission. In and out.
An uneasiness washes over me and we continue on the trail before us. Sweat drips from my jaw like a leaky faucet as I make my way. The path is thick with underbrush and low floating tree limbs that part for the caravan of ten soldiers. The embankment up ahead shields so many blind spots. Dread filters into my psyche. We will have to climb it, and the vulnerable position is not welcomed by anyone.
I hold my left fist up, halting our progress, and search the perimeter once again. By all outward appearances, nothing has been disturbed. The moss on the rocks show no imprints. Years of fallen debris accumulates at the bottom of the giant peak, so we make our way upward, hugging the shadows offered by the foliage. I signal forward progress.
We’ve been trekking on foot from the drop zone for almost eighteen hours, only stopping for a few minutes to refuel, rehydrate, and rest. Body fatigue isn’t even a part of my thoughts at the moment. I’m focused on each footstep and the sounds around us. A bird chirps and the cadence of insects calm me, signs from nature alerting me of no disturbance.
When we reach the embankment I look at Ollie and Lukas flanking me. Lukas lifts his finger to his nose and Ollie’s “go” signal is an uplifted hand to his earlobe. Good. Neither one suspects any danger. We are good to go.
I signal to Carlito and Jimbo to go before us. Both are avid rock climbers. They can scale the side of any natural rock formation with an uncanny talent at knowing what path to use with no previous knowledge of the site, securing a pathway on smooth rock for us to follow. They make their way toward the front of our group and start finding the footholds in the smooth rock for us to climb. The first point is covered by a spider’s web and easily deflected.
We’ve climbed two-thirds of the way when Jimbo falters as he reaches for his next hold. Earth tumbles to the ground below. Everyone goes utterly still, listening to the disruption of rock and dirt falling below. After several heartpounding moments of hanging off the side of the ledge, we begin again. Proceeding up to the small landing, only a couple yards away. One foothold to the next.
I grip the hand that’s being offered and help pull myself up. Looking down at the valley we’ve left behind two football fields below, I marvel at the beauty of this dismal place. Why so much pain and suffering is concentrated into this small area, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s been cursed since the beginning of time.
Moving forward to the front of the procession, I stop midway when a faraway noise enters our sphere. Fucking hell! From up above, a tail of smoke follows in slow motion as the bazooka’s ammunition descends. The soldiers’ bodies implode in front of me. Limbs fly. A booted leg lands in front of me minus the rest of the soldier. I react slowly. Shock lingers.
Another bomb explodes and I’m thrown from my stoic position. I land face down with a heavy weight on my back. I can’t move. The breath is knocked from my lungs. I’m immobile. A warm moisture drips on my face. I heave and try to extend my arms, lifting, then sagging once to the ground.
I’m not sure how much later I wake. The heaviness from earlier is still on my back. I can’t move. I struggle with the weight trying to move back and forth, up and down. What’s holding me down? The weight suffocates my already fatigued body.
I find my footing and with one final push, I jarr the weight bearing down on me and roll sideways. Gasping for air, I roll forward and land on my knees and elbows. Praying to God for strength, I extend my elbows and push into a sitting position and take in my surroundings.
“Oh God!”
Jimbo’s severed head is lying to the right of me, one of his eyeballs bulging from the socket. The rest of him is laying where I was only moments before. He saved my life. I stumble to my feet, silently screaming from the horror surrounding me.
Lukas is sprawled out on his stomach feet away from me. I rush to his side. His breathing is slow when I roll him onto his back. His eyes are closed. I shake him and his eyes slowly open.
“Don’t leave me here, Luc!”
“Not going anywhere, man,” he mumbles, licking his lips. “I’ve got to steal your angel from home you keep talking about all the time.”
“You’re delirious, dude. I never said she was mine.”
“Yes. You did. Every day now for, damn … I don’t know how many years.”
Startled as a hand grabs my shoulder, I rotate with my beretta drawn and aim it at the new target.
“Ollie, man, shit. Don’t sneak up on a brother like that.”
“I’ve been yelling at your ass for the last five minutes. Probably what woke little man, here,” he says, grimacing as he moves to Luc’s other side.
“You’re bleeding really bad, Luc.”
He looks lower and sighs.
“You’re losing a lot of blood and we don’t know how long it will be before help arrives. We’ve got to tourniquet your leg or we could lose you,” I pant.
“You might lose your leg,” Ollie says, pulling his belt from around his waist.
“I’ll still have my pretty face for the ladies, so y’all don’t stand a chance,” Lukas halfway jokes.
“Always the ladies’ man,” Ollie chides.
“Yep. I’ll be six feet under before I give that title up.”
“Or the right woman will find you and you’ll be a goner.”
“Never gonna happen. I’m a free roaming bull.” He laughs and his eyes glass over in pain.
“One. Two. Three.”
I tighten the belt. The piercing sound of his cries echo in my mind, shattering my calm façade.
“I’ve canvassed the area. No one else made it. I was thrown back behind the rock ledge. The blast knocked the air from my lungs, but I’m good to go, Keagan. We need to make it back down and to our rendezvous with the helo. You look rough, too. Where’s the blood coming from?”
“I’m fine. Worry about Luc.”
A twig snaps nearby and Ollie’s gaze rivets to a nearby opening. Two masked soldiers appear and walk closer to the three of us. My gun is by my side but I’m too late again. One man aims and fires off a shot. The impact from the bullet throws Ollie backwards and he doesn’t move.
“Fucktards, don’t come any closer,” I threaten, aiming the gun at them.
Laughing at my comment, the larger, bulkier of the two separates. “Who’s going to stop us? You?”
I’m momentarily shocked. He’s altering his voice. Why?
“I will if that’s what I have to do.”
“You’re in no position to threaten us. You should have stayed in your homeland. Never left.”
I find my bearings and reply, “And you shouldn’t have killed innocent Americans.”
“They deserved what happened. My god blessed the sacrifice. As he blesses yours.”
“You are one mental asshole. Ain't never gonna happen. I’ll make sure you die.”
“Such a tough one, laying on the ground bleeding. Trying to protect your fallen comrades,” he chuckles.
“Enough!” shouts the other man standing with his gun drawn. “I don’t have time to listen to your bullshit rhetoric. Why are you here?”
I remain silent, knowing that if my men are alert, they will follow my lead. Pain immediately follows as a bullet enters my gut.
“Why are you here?”
I fall forward and cover Lukas’s body. He’s already wounded.
Another bullet collides with my back
and I wince from the excruciating pain.
“Why are you here?”
Click. Click. Click. Click. The guns power off, finding a mark over and over. I pray Ollie and Lukas are not hit, again.
I’ve almost lost consciousness as a hand grips my hair and retches my head backwards.
“You will die. Just as the others they’ve sent. No one can stop me. Know who sent you to your maker. I am Mustaff, and your country will bow down to me and all that is mine …”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” I scream.
Sweat is pouring off my temples, rolling down my jawline to my neck.
“Keagan! Man! Keagan!”
Someone is shaking me. The darkness surrounding me begins to lift. I’m thrashing under a strong hold. Am I tied down, now? I squint to open my eyes, cracking them slowly until I’ve adjusted to the light streaming in.
I lie motionless when I see Ollie and Lukas standing on each side of me, restraining me by holding my shoulders and arms down.
“You awake now?” Ollie asks.
“Fuck. You wouldn’t wake up, Keagan,” Lukas exhales.
I shake my head, unable to answer. I’m embarrassed and mad because I have no control over the nightmares plaguing me. Turning, I look towards the window and see the light begin to overpower the darkness. I hate the night; that’s when the nightmares return and I have to remember.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
I close my eyes and breath. The pain radiating from my back is a staunch reminder of what happened exactly one year, three months, five days ago. I won’t ever be able to forget. The memories haunt me and the pain reminds me. I’ll never be normal again.
Keagan (This is Our Life 2)