by Julie Wetzel
“Only a little,” she said, trying to soothe him. “A couple of scratches down my back, but Elliot got there and stopped you.”
Self-loathing rolled over Phelan. “But that means…”
“Hey,” Krissy said as she patted his chest and stopping him from following that train of thought further. “It was not your fault.” She pulled the rice pack off his face so she could meet his eyes.
Phelan squinted at her.
“You weren’t in control.”
“Like the other wolves?”
Krissy paused, debating if she should give him the full story, but decided that wasn’t necessary right now. They could get into details later when he was feeling better. “Like the wolves, but a little rougher.”
It took a moment for Phelan to absorb this. “And Elliot stopped me?”
“With a silver knife,” Krissy said.
Raising his free hand, Phelan picked up the hand Krissy had resting on his chest. He raised it to his lips to kiss. “Thank you.” He knew a silver knife wouldn’t be enough to stop a rampaging werewolf. They’d tried that on the ones he and Rupert had captured. Elliot may have helped, but Phelan was sure it was Krissy that saved him.
Krissy smiled at him. “You’re welcome.” She pulled her hand away from his and fussed with the cold pack. “Besides, I couldn’t let my mate go running about the woods in a tiff. You could have hurt yourself.”
Phelan let out a soft laugh and reached his hand up to the side of her face. The fact she’d called him her mate made him happy beyond words. He slid his fingers into her hair and gently pulled her down to meet his lips.
Melting into the touch, Krissy kissed him back.
After a few moments, he let her pull back, but he didn’t remove his fingers from her skin. “For everything.”
Joy filled Krissy’s eyes as she smiled at him. “You’re welcome.” Pulling from his hand, she moved the covers around so she could stretch out on the bed next to him. She curled with her head on his shoulder and arm draped over his chest. Letting out a contented sigh, she snuggled closer. It just felt right being pressed up against him.
Phelan wrapped his arm around Krissy’s shoulders and held her close. He laid there for a while, enjoying the feel of her against him, but thoughts of the fight and the fact he only had a vague idea of what had happened kept interrupting his serenity.
Krissy drifted in contentment as she lay with Phelan. His feelings of happiness made her warm, but she also picked up notes of worry as they drifted through his mind. Lifting her head, she looked at him. “What’s wrong?”
“What about the other wolves?” he asked. He couldn’t stop thinking about them and the fact he hadn’t been there to help them with the fight.
Krissy laid her head back down and patted his chest. “Things went well. Without the daemon’s influence, Rupert made short work of Eckert’s pack,” she explained. “Elliot said that once Eckert and Ross weren’t there to hold the pack together, they ran. Sue came back to help Rupert with the cleanup.”
“Sue.” Phelan gasped and tried to sit up.
“Relax,” Krissy said as she held him down.
He didn’t have the strength to force his way up from the bed.
“They have this,” she soothed him again. “Besides, there isn’t much to do. Karl and Rose have already tended to the wounded, and Rupert is dealing with the few of Eckert’s wolves that surrendered. All you would do is get in the way right now. So just lie down and heal.”
Phelan let out a breath and stopped trying to get up. The fact he couldn’t even get out from under Krissy proved he was in no shape to help anyway. Unhappy about it, he agreed and laid back. There would be plenty left to do once he’d regained his strength. He pulled Krissy back into his arms and held her. For now, he was just going to enjoy her company and see what else he could learn about his new mate and what his future held.
***
The fine marks etched in the side of the box were almost done. Elliot blew the wood shavings out and checked them against his drawings before putting his knife against the wood again. A long curl came out as he deepened the etching. A soft knock pulled his attention away from the almost-finished piece. He looked up to find Darien leaning against the wall just inside the hall. “Hey,” Elliot called softly before running the tip of his knife over another line.
Darien pushed away from the wall and walked over to see what his second was doing in his office. The place was an absolute mess. One of the shelves was busted, and all the things that had been on it were shoved on other shelves or stacked on the floor. In addition to this, Elliot had several books laid out on the desk. Darien picked one up and blew the wood chips off it. He looked over the pages for some clue as to what Elliot was doing, but it gave him no more than watching the man work had. “I see you’ve been busy,” he said, setting the book back down.
“You have no idea,” Elliot said as he carved in the last line. Satisfied with his work, he sat the box up and turned it around, checking the other sides. It was important that the details were properly carved.
“A spell box?” Darien asked, staring at the intricately carved box. This was only one of the many areas of magic he’d studied, but he didn’t realize Elliot had taken an interest in it.
“Part of your wedding present,” Elliot said, content with the way the box looked. Dusting the wood shavings off the desk, he grabbed the latex gloves, soft cloth, and oil waiting for him on the corner.
Darien watched as Elliot slipped on the gloves and poured some of the oil on the cloth. The sharp smell of anointing oil reached his nose, and he cringed back.
Elliot took the cloth and started rubbing it on the inside of the hinged box.
Unable to think of anything he would use a blessed spell box for, Darien looked on in confusion. “What did you get us?”
“A daemon,” Elliot said without stopping.
Disbelief covered Darien’s face. How could Elliot sit there so casually and talk about daemons? “A what?”
“Rupert took the werewolves to war last week, and Phelan’s new mate caught a daemon. We thought you would be the best person to keep it,” Elliot said casually.
There was too much going on in that sentence for Darien to follow. “Wait…” He held out his hand and leaned on the desk, trying to make sense of things. “Phelan has a new mate?” That seemed the safest place to start.
Elliot set the oiled box down on the desk. “Yup.” He looked up at his master with amusement in his eyes. “She’s an empath who stopped him from ripping Rupert apart.”
Darien shook his head, unsure if he heard that right. “An empath?”
“Yeah,” Elliot said, loving the shocked expression on Darien’s face. It wasn’t often he surprised the older vampire. “Just a slip of a girl, but hell on wheels.”
“And she caught a daemon?”
“Yup,” Elliot said. Standing up from the desk, he reached up to the shelf and carefully picked up the brass cup. “It’s trapped in here.”
Darien’s mouth dropped open as he recognized the cup. He pointed at it. “But that was—”
“Locked away in your vault,” Elliot finished for him as he sat the vessel down on the table. “I asked the goblins to get it for me. By the way, they’re going to want your approval for that and a few other things we needed.”
Darien nodded as he stared at the seal on top of the cup. “I’ll take care of it.” He pointed to the parchment. “And that thing worked?”
Elliot chuckled. “I was worried about that since it had sat for so long, but it worked like a charm.” Taking the cloth that he’d used to oil the box, he turned the clean side in and wrapped it around the body of the cup before sliding it down in the box. “But I thought it would be best if we put it in something that had the daemon’s name on it, just in case it managed to get free.”
“Wow,” Darien said, shocked. “I guess that’s a great reason for not greeting us when we got home. I was sure there would be a horde of people in
my home, as usual, but I was surprised to find it empty.” He looked around. “Where is everyone?”
Elliot closed the top of the box and pulled off the oily gloves. “I thought it best to clear everyone out until I was done dealing with the daemon,” he explained. “The twins have moved in with Vanessa for a while.”
“Vanessa?” Darien said, stunned.
An impish grin curled the corner of Elliot’s mouth. “With their connection, they need a special woman who can love them both equally. I think Vanessa might just be that girl.”
“I can see that from her.”
“And as for Sue and Karl, with Eckert’s pack out of the way, I didn’t see any need for them to stay,” Elliot explained. “Sue was ready to pop. We all thought it would be best if she did it back in her home and away from the daemon.”
“Eckert is out of the way?” Darien asked.
“Yeah,” Elliot explained. “Eckert’s pack was using the daemon to try to take over the area. But with him all locked up…” Elliot flipped the lid on the box closed and latched it. “Things should be getting back to normal now.” He pushed the box towards Darien. “That should keep our friend here sealed up for a while, but I suggest you find a nice deep hole to bury him in. Odette has been dying to clean up the salt and holy water, but I wouldn’t let her until I knew we were safe.”
Darien stared down at the box. “You have been busy.”
“And that’s just the tip of it,” Elliot said as he dropped the gloves on the desk and came around to greet his friend properly. “But enough about my week. How was Hawaii?”
Darien scoffed at him. “Interesting.” A thought passed through his mind, and he gave Elliot a suspicious look. “Did you happen to tell the Hawaiian Council we were coming?”
Caught off guard by the question, Elliot stood straighter. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I knew you wanted some quiet time with Vicky and telling them you were coming would only complicate things.” He paused as his mind worked. “You didn’t run into them while you were there?” He knew Darien’s unannounced visit was a breach of protocol and could have made things very stressful if anyone found out.
Letting out a sigh, Darien nodded. “They had someone waiting for us as soon as we landed.”
“What did you do?” Elliot asked.
“I took over Hawaii.” Darien’s voice was thick with sarcasm.
“You did what?” Elliot nearly yelled.
“It’s a long story,” Darien said. He patted his friend on the shoulder and turned to lead the way out of the room. “Come on. I need a cup of coffee for this one.”
“Hey, Julie. Do you have your dedication and acknowledgments done yet?”
This is the one line that makes me cringe every time I hear it. Every book, the ladies at CTP ask, and every book, I lie to them and say, “Yeah. They’re on my computer at home. I’ll email them to you as soon as I get back.” And then I spend the next ten hours suffering over whom to dedicate my newest mess to. (But don’t tell them that.)
It’s not that I don’t have people that I love and want to dedicate the books to. Or that I don’t appreciate everything everyone has done to help me get this book out. It’s that I don’t know what to say!
When I first started writing these books, I didn’t have a problem with this section. I thought I’d just fill it up with a cute story or some sage advice about writing and be done with it. No one reads the acknowledgements anyway, right? Wrong!
It staggers me how many people stop to read the little burp at the end of books. I’ve gotten so many messages in regards to my acknowledgements. Yes, the first few books were to keep my sister busy while at sea. Yes, they were my first attempt to write anything for publication. No, I had no idea what I was doing at the time, or that it would be so well accepted. Yes, they read like fanfiction. No, they are not fanfiction. I just want to say one thing to those people that have called the Gathering Tinder and Flying Sparks fanfiction of Twilight and Fifty Shades. It’s not. I did read the first of the Twilight series, but didn’t care for it. In my opinion, vampires shouldn’t sparkle. And, as to the parallels people are finding between this and the Fifty Shades book, the only thing I see is the powerful man/innocent woman plot line. But that’s a common trope used in a lot of romance novels. The original manuscript for Kindling Flames was written in 2011 when my sister was out at sea. I didn’t pick up Fifty Shades until after my accident in 2013. I know this because I was still in that stupid neck brace while reading it. But enough yapping already, it’s time to get to why you’re here… Acknowledgements!
First off, I’d like to thank my family. They put up with so much crap from me while I spend months bleeding out these books. I promise I’ll get to cleaning the living room as soon as I’m done (Which may be never from the looks of my to-be-written file).
Thank you, Amanda, for letting me pawn off my work so I can meet my deadlines.
Thank you, Kathy-Lynn Cross. You make the best graphics and ask so little in return. It means the world to me.
Thank you, Rebecca, Courtney, Marya, and Melanie. Without your hard work and dedication, these books would still be sitting on my computer taking up bytes.
Thank you, Cynthia, for helping me clean up this mess. A good editor is hard to find.
Thank you to my mother, my aunt, Spoon, Sabrina, Kathy-Lynn Cross, and everyone else I forced a copy of the manuscript on for beta reading. You all keep me real.
And last, I’d like to thank the readers. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be doing what I do. I love and appreciate every letter and note I get. Thank you so much for your continued support.
Originally from Ohio, Julie always dreamed of a job in science. Either shooting for the stars or delving into the mysteries of volcanoes. But, life never leads where you expect. In 2007, she moved to Mississippi to be with her significant other.
Now a mother of a hyperactive red headed boy, what time she’s not chasing down dirty socks and unsticking toys from the ceiling is spent crafting worlds readers can get lost it. Julie is a self-proclaimed bibliophile and lover of big words. She likes hiking, frogs, interesting earrings, and a plethora of other fun things.
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Have a reading hangover? Have you checked out Julie Wetzel's Dragons of Eternity Series? Check out On the Accidental Wings of Dragons today. This urban fantasy romance is the perfect cure for any ailment. *Crimson Tree Publishing does not guarantee that On the Accidental Wings of Dragons will truly cure any ailment... Just read it! Okay?
When Michael Duncan is sent to investigate the disappearance of several dragon subjects, he finds himself in a bind. Locked in a dungeon, his only hope lies wrapped in a bundle of cloth tossed at his feet. One kiss and his life is changed forever. Hunted by his own people for crimes he didn't commit, Michael has to learn a whole new life at the hands of a beautiful woman. Can she help him clear his name, or will just being in her presence get him sentenced to death?
Carissa Markel doesn't know who this man chained to the wall is, but he's her only chance for escape. She has power, but, born without a voice, she lacks the means to wield it. One choice, made in desperation, sends them running for his life. Does she have the strength to help him clear his name? And what will her brother, the King of Dragons, do if he finds out what she's done? That's immaterial, the real question is… can she keep her hands off him long enough to find out?
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