by Alisa Woods
They were safe.
Truly safe. All three of them.
And when he looked to Erelah… she was smiling.
“It’s the magic.” Already her voice was returning to normal.
“What magic?” he asked, thoroughly confused. With his hands full of baby, he couldn’t really do anything but settle on the bed at her feet as she worked her way up to sitting.
“The magic of the treaty.”
The magic of the treaty. It struck him hard, almost like a second boom through magical space. “We did it.” His grin grew slowly, then faster, then it took over his face entirely. “We renewed the treaty.”
Her smile radiated joy. “He renewed the treaty,” she said, reaching for the baby. Then her smile dimmed, and a strange look of wonder took over her face.
“What’s wrong?” Leksander asked, panic seizing his heart for the second time in a dozen seconds. His gaze swept the baby. Those big eyes blinking and looking up at him. Tiny, perfect hands curled up under his chin. He was moving, breathing, pinking up in color, and…
Holy mother of magic.
Leksander looked up at the angeling he loved. “Our baby is a girl!”
The smile was back on Erelah’s face. “Of course, she is. She’s my angeling after all.”
A huff of surprise and sheer, blinding relief tore through him.
A girl dragonling in the House of Smoke.
A treaty renewed.
And everything he could possibly want in life in one tiny bed in the guest room of his lair.
He laughed with the joy of it, and tears slipped down his face that he didn’t bother wiping away. He just handed his baby girl over to her momma then wrapped his arms around them both.
He didn’t know if he deserved this joy, but he didn’t care.
He had it. And he was never letting go.
“A female,” cooed the fae queen. “About time you had a female fae in this House.”
“She’s a dragonling,” Leksander answered. Erelah could hear the growl in his voice as he cuddled their daughter closer.
“Obviously, the angeling is strongest in her,” Erelah said. “You will see, when her wings appear.” Could they not taste the angel in her baby? She could allow Leksander’s desire to believe their daughter was dragon—and clearly, she was dragon enough to fulfill the treaty; that was an indisputable magical fact—but Erelah knew the Truth.
Her child was an angeling of the light who would change the world.
Her only hope was that it would be for the better.
The three of them stood in the throne room on the dais, just to one side of King Lucian and Queen Arabella, with baby Larik sleeping in the crook of the king’s arm. Leonidas and Rosalyn stood on the opposite side of the throne, Leonidas’s arm around Rosalyn as baby Thorn fussed quietly at her bosom, taking his morning meal. Rachel and Cinaed were guests of honor next to them. The blue dragon beamed unmistakable pride in the dragonling Rachel had borne for him, likewise sleeping in his arms.
Babies born against all odds, in a world determined to stop True Love… and failing.
Erelah’s attention was drawn back to the fae queen paying her respects in front of them. Nyssa was her name, and while Erelah loathed all fae by nature, this one earned her forbearance. After all, her blood ran in Leksander’s veins, and she had saved his life. For that, Erelah would forever owe the queen a debt of gratitude.
“Well, I approve of the name, at least,” Nyssa remarked, giving a wide smile to the baby. “Aurora is so much better than one of those odd angeling names you all seem to choose.” Nyssa flicked a look at Erelah, then Tajael standing by her side, opposite Leksander. “No offense.”
“None taken,” Tajael answered, coolly, obviously offended.
Erelah was no good at reading human social interaction, but an angeling’s war with Pride? That she could see a mile away.
She restrained a laugh.
Especially given how much serious danger still lay before the world. She gazed down at her beautiful daughter, as perfect as any angeling in appearance, but equally shining in the beauty of her soul. Aurora. A new beginning. It was the name her father had intended for her—her true father, Razael, now a shadow angel, but once a brilliant angel of the light. Her faction leader and substitute father, Markos, stood further back in the throne room, allowing the fae queen to pay her respects. He had a faint air of disapproval about him. Or perhaps just caution.
For there was war afoot now between angels and fae.
And her child was both the nexus and the cause in that war.
Nyssa conjured a glittering, golden butterfly and held it out on her hand to bestow upon Aurora. The child was sleeping in Leksander’s arms, and he gave the fae queen a wary look.
“For the love of magic, Leksander.” The queen scowled. “Surely, you can trust me by now.”
Leksander frowned but gave a small nod. In Truth, the fae queen could slay their child outright, and it would change nothing. The treaty had been renewed. The fact that Aurora could be born, and Erelah could remain in the light changed everything for angelkind. No matter what happened to her baby now, none of those facts—the ones compelling the world toward war and possibly, still, the End of Times—would change. Erelah would personally destroy anyone who even raised a hand to her child, but it would be a personal loss, the horror of a single family, not an act that unhinged the world.
There was a strange and comforting normalcy to that.
Erelah was now simply the mother of Aurora. The mate of Leksander. A princess of the House of Smoke. And an angeling of light. These things were immutable and would last all the days of her life… days which would now be long and fruitful and filled with love, even if the world were to fall to ruin around them.
She had her family, and they had her.
The joy of it still brought tears to her eyes whenever she thought on it.
Nyssa’s golden butterfly sprite had alit on little Aurora’s tightly curled hand. For a moment, it just flapped its wings, but then in a wink, it dissolved and sprinkled golden dust down upon her daughter, making her stir in Leksander’s arms and slowly open her brilliant blue eyes. She gazed up at her daddy and hummed a bit of angelsong. The look on Leksander’s face loosened those tears clinging to the corner of Erelah’s eyes.
She ducked her head to wipe them away.
The entire assemblage of the throne room—dragons and angelkind alike—seemed to hold their breath, but Erelah had already sensed the sprite’s purpose and knew it would pose no harm to her child.
Nyssa spoke it aloud. “It’s a simple protection sprite. And it would appear your daughter will need it.”
“She will have the protection of an entire Dominion of angelings,” Tajael answered, tightly.
Again, Erelah had to restrain the laugh that came with that.
As well she should. There was war brewing, and not just between light and shadow, although there for certain. Her father, Razael, and her substitute father, Markos, had joined forces to defend her and her child. They had beaten back Elyon long enough, and once it was known that the child lived, Elyon had taken his surviving shadow angelings and vanished. But no one—not even Erelah—entertained any delusions he would stay hidden. Elyon would see Aurora as a greater threat now that she lived. He would not come after her daughter—there was no point in harming the child other than petty revenge, which in Truth, Razael was capable of—but he was certain to be making plans for a war against the light.
Although, it was uncertain exactly where the battle lines would be drawn.
We are not friends, Markos, her father, Razael, had said, just before he kissed his granddaughter and disappeared back into the shadow. It was Truth, and Erelah was strangely proud of the shadow angel for speaking it. There had been much loss—many angeling deaths—and there would be more to come. The ground on this war was shifting even as they recovered from the first true battle.
Nyssa drew back from her admiration and cooing over the b
aby. She gave Leksander a serious look. “I know it was your blade in Zephan’s chest, but I cannot convince his father, the king, that it wasn’t an angeling who put it there.” She flicked a look to Tajael, who apparently had been haplessly caught in the situation. “The Winter Court is nothing if not stubborn in believing what they wish.”
“So what does that mean?” Leksander asked.
“War,” Nyssa said gravely. “Not between Summer and Winter, although I can’t guarantee that won’t be the fallout. But the Winter Court has rallied around their prince. Zephan has yet to die, as far as I can discern. I think the king has induced some kind of stasis—a magical healing coma, if you will—but the Court seeks vengeance for their fallen, favored son. The fae and angels are ancient enemies, cousin. This is larger than the House of Smoke. You dragons always think everything is about you, but it’s not. This is about the fae. This has always been about the fae.”
Leksander nodded, and Erelah knew the Truth of that far more than her mate probably did, although he understood most of it. The treaty would keep the Winter Court from attacking humans outright, and the House of Smoke as well, but the demon plague remained, and now with war between fae and angels… much was still very uncertain. It was not beyond imagining that the End of Times could still be near. Although, as she gazed at her beautiful daughter and the bright shining of her soul, it was hard to imagine how such a thing of righteousness could usher in a dark age.
Nyssa tipped her head. “I’ll see you soon, cousin.” Then she twisted and disappeared in a flash of light.
A moment of silence ensued, then Leonidas spoke. “Is she planning to be a regular visitor now?” he asked, aghast.
“I sincerely hope not,” King Lucian said with a frown.
Leksander’s focus was entirely for little Aurora. “She can visit if she likes. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her.” And it was clear that her mate was intent on enjoying every moment of the new life the fae queen had granted him. As was right and wise. Patience had always been her mate’s strongest Virtue, including all those long years where he kept his True Love for her hidden, waiting for her to be ready for him. She was in awe of the goodness of her mate, and it thrummed her True Love stronger each moment she was with him.
Markos stepped forward, now that his immortal enemy had left. “My Dominion will attend to the events that will unfold from Aurora’s birth. You needn’t worry for her safety, dragon prince.”
Leksander looked up. “You’ll leave an angeling contingent as a guard, as we discussed.”
“Yes.” Markos turned to Erelah. “But Tajael will not be among them,” he told her. “I have a special assignment for him.”
Erelah frowned and glanced at Tajael. His face was inscrutable. Obedient. He was a true angeling of the light, strongest in the Virtues of any angeling she’d known. “What kind of assignment?” she asked Tajael.
“Guardian,” Tajael said, evenly. But it made Erelah’s stomach clench.
Guardian. When angelkind was deep in a war already started.
Tajael tipped his head to Markos. “I live to serve.” He would take this duty, and gladly, no matter the risks. But Erelah already knew that about him.
Then a smallish angelsong came from her tiny daughter, drawing Erelah’s attention there. The baby was rousing from her nap, the golden sparkle of her protection spell still glittering on her skin. Her blue eyes were staring intently up at her father’s face, then her tiny hands reached for him. The smile on Leksander’s face was contagious—it ran entirely around the room and landed on Erelah’s face.
Then the miraculous happened.
Aurora lifted from Leksander’s arms. She was flying on magic. Erelah’s heart seized, and she dashed a look to Markos, to see if he was making this happen, but his face held a blank surprise like everyone else. And when Erelah looked back…
Aurora’s snow-white wings had unfurled.
Clad only in a diaper, her blonde wisp of hair and her white wings, Erelah’s daughter flew up to her father’s face and touched her tiny hands to his cheeks.
The amazement on his face was reflected in every face in the room.
Erelah gasped in a laugh, then covered her mouth with both hands to contain her joy.
Little Aurora hummed her soft angelsong, still mesmerized by her father’s face.
Leksander turned his wide eyes to Erelah. “Well, this is going to be a problem.”
Erelah laughed again, not even trying to hold it back now. “I told you… she is angeling.”
Leksander then tried to hold his infant daughter, his large hands gently wrapping around her small body, and the baby allowed it, snuggling in once again, wings furling to stow away. For all intents and purposes, Aurora appeared to once again be a normal child.
A normal, world-changing, child.
Erelah slipped close to them both, and she cared not that the entire assemblage of the House of Smoke, its princes and princesses, dragons and angelings, and even her faction leader looked on…
She kissed the man she loved and embraced the child they made.
The world may go to war, but there could be no Sin in this True Love.
The House of Smoke has found its Happy Ending!
But all is not well in the Immortal Realms. A war brews between angel and fae, and Aurora's birth will indeed usher in a new day for angelkind. One where a Fall from Lust is even more dangerously possible, and the angels and angelings of the light will be tempted by the sweet promise of Love...
TAJAEL
(Fallen Angels 1)
I am an angeling of the light, Protector class, assigned to Guardian Duty… and I am Tempted.
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Of Bards and Witches
London, The Year of Our Lord 1600
Leonidas is a dragon shifter, a century into his allotted five, and he’s entranced by Master Shakespeare’s theatre and the comely and lusty women of London’s bankside. But when he finds a witch in the practice of her art in clear view of the stage, he must act… for dragons are the keepers of the peace between the mortal and immortal realms. But never has duty been so sweetly sexy and delicious to the touch as a witch whose very skin sparks pleasure. He becomes lost in his bed, breaking his own cardinal rule—never seduce a woman for more than a night. As one pleasure-drenched night bleeds into the next, he runs afoul of a danger he ought already know… never cross a witch.
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READING ORDER
Shifters in Seattle
True Alpha (Book 1)
Dark Alpha (Book 2)
A True Alpha Christmas (Book 3)
River Pack Wolves
Jaxson (Book 1)
Jace (Book 2)
Jared (Book 3)
Wilding Pack Wolves
Wild Game (Book 1)
Wild Love (Book 2)
Wild Heat (Book 3)
Wild One (Book 4)
Wild Fire (Book 5)
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Wild Magic (Book 6)
Fallen Immortals
Kiss of a Dragon (Book 1)
Heart of a Dragon (Book 2)
Fire of a Dragon (Book 3)
Chosen by a Dragon (Book 4)
Seduced by a Dragon (Book 5)
Touched by a Dragon (Book 6)
Loved by a Dragon (Book 7)
Marked by a Dragon (Book 8)
Claimed by a Dragon (Book 9)
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Alisa Woods lives in the Midwest with her husband and family, but her heart will always belong to the beaches and mountains where she grew up. She writes sexy paranormal romances about alpha men and the women who love them. She enjoys exploring the struggles we all have, where we resist—and succumb to—our most tempting vices as well as our greatest desires. She firmly believes that love triumphs over all.