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Soul of Flame
Copyright 2016 by Merryn Dexter
ISBN: 978-1-68361-036-6
Cover art by Fiona Jayde
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.
Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC
Look for us online at:
www.decadentpublishing.com
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
A Mate’s Redeeming Touch by Merryn Dexter
Wiccan Haus Order of Books
Shifting Hearts by Dominique Eastwick
A Man Worth Fighting For by Sara Daniel
An Apple Away by Kate Richards
Siren's Serenade by Dominique Eastwick
Psychic Lies by Sara Daniel
Unveil my Heart by Nya Rayne
Finding Her A-Muse-ment by Rebecca Royce
Guarding His Heart by Carolyn Spear
Lifebound by Leigh Daley
The 13th Guest by Rebecca Royce
A Bride Worth Fighting For by Sara Daniel
Sorcerer’s Legacy by Carolyn Spear
Healing his Soul's Mate by Dominique Eastwick
Claiming Trinity by Kali Willows
Soul of Flame by Merryn Dexter
Coming Soon
Bear Essentials by TL Reeve
Breaking the Mating Bond by Dominique Eastwick
Solace for the Psychic Soul by Sara Daniel
Renewed Spirits by Merryn Dexter
Also by Merryn Dexter
A Mate’s Healing Touch
A Mate’s Redeeming Touch
Soul of Flame
Exiled from her clan by a suspicious queen, fire fae Ceara finds peace among the humans and a role within an elite rescue team. Following a tragic accident, the deaths of her team and the loss of her powers, Ceara is sent to the mysterious resort of Wiccan Haus to heal.
Kidnapped, abused and cursed on escape, black jaguar Shimeer Neguar is desperately seeking the cure which will re-unite him with his shifter half. Wiccan Haus is his last hope, but he is horrified to discover his nemesis is also a guest on the island.
When a huge black jaguar attacks Ceara, she hopes for death and an end to her suffering but the shifter fails to bite. The staff on the island want him banished, but understanding Shim has been the victim of another fae, Ceara intercedes on his behalf and he is permitted to stay, as long as he stays away from her.
The smoke and spice scent of the fae is driving Shim crazy and he can’t keep away from her. Can he reconcile his feelings and the Fates’ desire for them to mate with the fact that she is the image of the woman he loathes?
Ceara begins to fear the worst, the magnetic shifter who haunts her thoughts and inflames her passion is the key to a prophesy that threatens her very existence.
Can two broken souls find healing and love at Wiccan Haus or is their fated union the key to their destruction?
Welcome back to the Wiccan Haus.
Welcome to the Wiccan Haus
Something wiccan this way comes to a mystical mysterious island where authors get to play and bring their love stories to life. At the Wiccan Haus you will meet Rekkus, Cyrus, Sage, Sarka, Cemil and Myron, all of whom return in most if not all the stories. Yes each one will eventually get their HEA as well.
We hope you enjoy the stories from all the authors and return time and again to keep up with the staff and meet new characters along the way. But fear not if this is your first or twenty-first story each book stands on its own. If you want to know more about the series please sign up for our newsletter.
A Note From Merryn
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Wiccan Haus. I am delighted to share the story of Ceara and Shim with you. From the moment Dominique Eastwick invited me through the portal, I knew this magical island off the coast of Maine would be home to my imagination. It is an honor and a privilege to play in this fabulous world with so many authors who I admire and respect.
I am so pleased to work with the amazing Decadent Publishing team – dreams really do come true! My imagination is fired up so I hope to be able to bring you many more stories in partnership with them.
I would be thrilled to hear from you about this book, Wiccan Haus, the Black Hills Wolves, soup recipes, holidays, or anything else that crosses your mind. I’m a military spouse currently resident in Belgium and working from home so always happy for a distraction!
You can email me at [email protected] or find me on Facebook or Twitter @MerrynDexter . I also have a website www.merryndexter.com and a blog www.merryndexter.blogspot.be
Best Wishes,
Merryn x
Dedication
For M. Who brings a little bit of magic into my life every day
Soul of Flame
A Wiccan Haus Story
By
Merryn Dexter
When sundered soul is frozen and the black beast tamed to her hand
So will hearts unite and destiny be fulfilled.
All hail Queen of Clan, Mistress of All, Ruler of the Emerald Lands!
Prophecy of Aislinn the Touched—later called Aislinn the Mute—Lady of the Emerald Court.
Prologue
Ceara Smith adjusted the headset her point man Kellan hooked over her ears. Strapping herself into her allocated seat on the chopper, she tried to contain her building excitement. It had been too long since she’d walked in her element. While the rest of the crew piled in around her, she did a quick mic test and got the thumbs-up from Matthews, their team leader. Unlike the rest of them, who’d dressed in thick protective gear, Ceara wore a cotton top and pants and simple slip-on shoes.
Derren Williams, the last member to board, took the abusive banter from the rest with a customary one-fingered salute and winked at Ceara. She blew him a kiss in return which he snatched from the air and tucked into the front pocket of his Kevlar vest. Whistles and jeers echoed through her earphones, and she laughed.
“Wheels up,” Matthews shouted.
The noise died down, and an air of quiet anticipation settled over the group. The chopper rose into the air, the sharp angle feeding the butterflies in Ceara’s stomach. Static buzzed in her ears, and she looked toward Matthews. Their leader commanded the small space, his air of authority combat earned and hardened over years of experience. The grizzled man hooked his hands through a couple of support straps, bracing his booted feet wide apart. He cut an imposing figure, the edges of his close-cropped hair peppered with silver.
“Okay, here’s what we know so far. Our target is a residential school on the outskirts of
D.C. There’s no indication yet on the source of the fire, but it’s spreading fast. I’ve got reports of multiple groups of children trapped.” He glanced around the group. “I know this is an unusual assignment, but it’s an elite prep school. We’re talking children of politicians, diplomats, senior officers. When the big dogs bark, we wag our tails and say ‘Yes, sir!’”
Williams howled, a couple of the others barked and yipped. Matthews shook his head and retook his seat, but he didn’t stop them from messing around.
Ceara smiled but didn’t join in. Soon, soon. Knowing she would soon be inside the fire filled her with guilty pleasure. She hated and loved her job in equal measures. Their elite rescue squad only got summoned to life-threatening situations, but it meant she would be in her element.
Matthews held up his hand to signal five minutes from touchdown. The team fell silent, and Ceara closed her eyes, trying to relax. She hated the chopper, hated to be enclosed in so much metal, but she’d grown accustomed to it over the past century—the human world expanding its technology, and iron and steel springing up everywhere. She could withstand more than the average fae, her tolerance levels much higher. Being banished from her clan left little choice other than to adapt.
Her initial attempts to seek refuge in a number of other fae clans when she and her twin sister, Isolde, had first been banished, were all rebuffed. None accepted her, wary of attracting the legendary wrath of her clan queen. Having little in common with her twin, either in nature or in power, Ceara tried her best to blend into the mundane world of the humans. After many years, she’d found some semblance of peace and satisfaction in her life.
The whine of the rotors changed pitch, and she responded to the tap on her shoulder from Kellan beside her. She leaned across his lap to look out of the window, and her pulse raced at her first glimpse of the inferno below. A quick flick released her restraints the moment the chopper touched down, and she flowed from the machine like water, the lure of the flames crying out to her soul.
Matthews peeled away, heading for the temporary command post. Ceara held her position in the center of the formation, keeping easy pace with the group in spite of her height and weight difference to the huge men who encircled her. A black cap sat snug over her head, concealing her bright-red hair, which would draw curious eyes. Matthews signaled for the others to approach the central block of the school. The four-story U-shaped monstrosity loomed before them, complete with Doric columns and a sweeping driveway.
Heat enveloped her like a lover’s caress, teasing the perpetual cold from her skin. The men paused to lower their face shields. Impatience raked through her, and she bounced on her toes at the delay. They’re only human. Moving as one, they crossed the gravel driveway, fanning out to form an inverted V with Ceara taking point. Kellan stood behind her, taking the discarded items when she tugged off her hat and kicked free of her thin shoes.
Flames roared from the doorway, a siren’s call. Running barefoot up the stairs, she dove into the fire. The thin clothing she wore burned away in moments, leaving her naked. She threw her arms open, welcoming the flickering heat dancing over her skin. Energy flooded into her body, chasing off any lingering weakness from her exposure to the alien technologies of the human world. The flames leaped forward to greet her, licking at her skin like eager puppies. She wanted to play, wanted to dance and twirl through the fire, but lives were at stake. She snapped her fingers, and the flames fell back.
The blaze in the main foyer died down, and the team would pound through the open doorway any moment. Professional as they were, her naked body would be an unnecessary distraction to them. Stroking her hands over her head, she summoned the fire, turning her hair from red into living flame. Repeating the gesture at her breasts and hips, she coated her flesh in bands of blazing orange and red.
Kellan pounded up the stairs, the rest hard on his heels. The huge man bent forward. “Boss says the dorms in the west wing have all been evacuated,” he said in her ear. “Top floor of the east still has some kids trapped. They’re not sure on numbers yet, still struggling for a head count, but that’s where he wants us to focus.”
With a quick nod, she climbed the stairs, pushing back the flames to clear a safe path. The heat from the fire poured into her, and she welcomed it.
They headed straight to the top floor and commenced a methodical sweep of the rooms. Standing in the center of each room, she called the heat and flames to her, feeding her soul as the others fanned out to check closets and underneath beds. They came up empty again and again, and she frowned at Kellan who shrugged, lifting the mic attached to his protective headgear.
“Boss double-checking the info on east.” He paused to listen. “They’ve got kids from this area unaccounted for, Ceara. We keep searching.” The uneasy look on his face echoed her own doubts, but second-guessing orders got people killed. She respected Matthews, trusted him. He’d proved time and time again the welfare of his crew was his utmost priority.
They pressed on down the length of the corridor, checking every room but finding nothing. They used the stairwell at the far corner to enter the third floor, and Ceara held up a hand to keep the men back. She slipped through the door. Flames surged, hungry to feed on the fresh oxygen. Striding down the corridor, she clenched her fists, drawing down the fire. Pleasure shuddered through her, the intense heat engulfing her senses. Talk to me. Show me where the source is. Thick smoked billowed out into the stairwell behind her.
Opening herself wider to the flames, she pulled them into her, sucking the heat into the core of her being. The fire pulled back for the first time, as if drawn to a magnet of stronger polarity. She held her ground. There was no fire in the human realm capable of resisting her for long. Absorbing the heat and flames, she consumed the blaze until the smoke lessened and she could see the team framed in the opening.
At her nod, they entered the corridor, repeating the sweep from downstairs until they came to one room they couldn’t open. She signaled them to hold again. Her nose wrinkled; a faint smell of sulfur lingered beneath the scents of smoke and ash. The door had been sealed with more than just a key. Focusing on the lock, she sent out a tiny thread of flame, using it to unknot the spell holding it secure.
When it at last fell loose, she eased the door open. A group of a dozen or so children stared back at her, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Turning aside, she let the team enter, and they escorted the children out, following the cleared path she held in the fire and down the stairwell. Kellen stood in front of her, shielding her from the children’s curious gazes.
“Hey, Blaze. There’s something seriously weird about this room.”
Ceara smiled at the nickname and peered around Kellen’s broad shoulder to get a better view. She frowned. The room lay untouched by fire, not even a smudge of soot on the walls. Heart in her mouth, she stepped inside.
She studied the walls in growing horror. Garlands of sweet, sunny, bright-yellow flowers, knotted together, hung from the walls. She cried out, falling to her knees. A blast of flame flew from her fingers, igniting a pile of books, and the fire spread, eager to consume this new source of fuel.
“Blaze, honey, what’s wrong?” Kellen crouched next to her.
She screamed, scrambling backward. “Get out, Kell! Get out, for the love of the Lord and Lady, you must run! Faebane!”
Ceara shuddered, her control slipping, the floor around her starting to burn. Kellen recoiled from the curtain of heat encircling her. The well of flames inside her twisted, blistering through her veins. She screamed in agony.
“Run, Kell! Run, please!” Sobbing, she fought to hold in the flames.
Boots pounded on the tiled floor, and Ceara counted at a measured pace, battling against the power of the trap. The fire swelled, creating a pressure unlike anything she’d ever experienced.
“Lord and Lady, save them,” she whispered over and over, trying in vain to contain the heat.
Tension eased in Matthews’s gut
as his guys appeared, escorting a small group of children. The local police rushed forward and wrapped the kids in foil blankets, herding them behind the safe cordon. His men didn’t hesitate, plunging back inside the burning building. “What’s the head count now?” he snapped at the coordinator, snarling in disgust when the fool hesitated. Fucking amateurs. Two more minutes and he would call them back, regardless.
A roar from the east wing drowned out the noise of the crying children. Horror clenched his guts, turning them to water. The fire at the windows sucked inward, the sudden darkness blinding him for a second. The world paused for a single heartbeat before a huge explosion ripped through the wing, blowing the roof off and sending glass and debris flying. A concussive shockwave knocked him on his ass, leaving him gasping for breath.
He struggled to his feet, ears ringing, throat parched and aching. A few ruined timbers stuck up from the pile of debris, the twisted limbs all that remained of the building. A few wisps of smoke twisted into the air, but the flames were gone. Matthews dropped to his knees, tears pouring down his cheeks. My team!
Chapter One
Ceara huddled in the corner of the ferry, tugging her thick jacket closer around herself. Her teeth chattered from the relentless cold. She hadn’t been able to get warm since waking the previous week in the private hospital ward. The nurses’ whispers about a miraculous recovery made her want to laugh in their faces. Her corporeal form may have survived, but that was all. The fire had vanished, leaving her soul empty, void.
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