Taming the Beast: Eleven Paranormal Romances

by Alyse Zaftig

  At her words, Duncan and Nick skidded to a halt, their claws scrabbling on the ground as they took defensive positions, their rumps against each other to guard the other’s back.

  Her voice was thready, and she realized her neck was swelling against the chain, likely from some damage inflicted during the beating Sam had given her. “He has a gun. Tranq darts. Probably bullets…” She trailed off, unable to continue speaking with the chain pressing against her neck and the pain each word caused her.

  A shot hit the earth inches from where Nick stood. They moved apart, and she winced when she heard the crack of the rifle preceding another shot. This time, the bullet appeared to strike Duncan, and she whimpered in protest. He didn’t fall, so if he had been struck, either it wasn’t too serious, or adrenaline allowed him to push through it.

  She slumped against the tree, not able to track the motion of the men as they became the hunters. She could feel a difference in the air, and she wondered if Sam felt it too. Was he currently shuddering with fear as he realized he had betrayed his position by shooting at them, and that while he had bullets and tranquilizer darts, they had vicious claws, sharp teeth, and a determination to protect their mate on their side?

  She let her eyes close, but she could still hear rustling in the forest. Less than a minute later, she heard Sam cry out, and it was a shrill shriek. At first, it sounded like fear, but as it prolonged and intensified, it took on a sharp edge of pain as well. Listening to him scream and plead for his life, she could well imagine what Duncan and Nick were doing to him, but couldn’t seem to summon the energy to care. They were simply doing to him what he would have done to them, and to her. In her mind, it was strictly self-defense.

  When they emerged into the clearing a few minutes later, she could see blood on their coats, and she hoped it wasn’t theirs. Duncan walked with a limp in his front right paw, and as he drew closer, she could make out a wound in his shoulder. That appeared to be the worst of it, and Nick looked unscathed.

  Despite the pain in her lips, she managed a small smile for them. “I knew you’d come, and I’m glad he didn’t get you.”

  Trapped as they were in the beast form, they couldn’t speak, but they leaned against her for a moment. Then Duncan went to one side of the chains, and Nick to the other. They clawed and hacked the tree and the chains until the links finally broke as the tree made a splintering sound. A jolt shot through her, but then she collapsed forward and onto the grounds, the broken chains around her.

  Working together, Duncan and Nick carefully took mouthfuls of her shirt between their jaws, dragging her away from the now-unstable tree. When she had reached a safe distance, they stopped and allowed her to lie down to rest. They curled up on either side of her, and she appreciated their body heat and the softness of their fur.

  Their heads were on either side of hers. She turned to look at one, then the other. She reached out with her hands to stroke their sides. “I love you both.” After that, it was a bit of a blur. Time must have past, because she was suddenly lifted into a pair of male arms instead of cradled by beastly paws. Baylee managed to force open the eye that wasn’t completely shut, looking up to see a nearly full moon above them. Something about the fact it was still night while Nick carried her teased the back of her mind, but she couldn’t make the connection of why it was strange. Instead, she snuggled against him and surrendered to the need to sleep.

  She woke in her own bed sometime later, with sun streaming in through the window. Her head ached, and only one eye would open when she tried to blink. It took a moment for everything to come into focus, and she quickly realized Duncan and Nick were looming over her, wearing twin expressions of concern on their very different faces.

  “Ah, good. You’re back with us, young lady.”

  At the sound of an unfamiliar voice, she turned her head as far as she could to the right to see him with her left eye. “Who are you?” He was an older gentleman, and he had a reassuring smile.

  “I’m Dr. Barro. Duncan and Nick sent for me, and I can see why. You’re in rough shape. I think you should be in the hospital.”

  No,” she said firmly, which echoed their negative response as well. “I’d rather be here unless I need surgery or something?”

  The doctor shook his head, white hair springing wildly around his face. “No, nothing like that. I’d just feel better if you were on pain medicine through an IV and under continuous monitoring.”

  “She’ll get continuous monitoring here, from us,” said Nick firmly.

  “We aren’t going to leave her side,” added Duncan.

  The older man laughed, and he sounded indulgent when he did so. “Yes, yes. As you’ve said. Since the patient agrees with you, there’s not much that an overly cautious old man can do to persuade you otherwise.”

  “Is anything broken?” she asked, wincing when her lip split again.

  Dr. Barro shook his head. “You’ve been banged up a bit, and that brute cracked one of your ribs, but nothing’s broken. There’s no internal bleeding. If there were, you would have been in the hospital hours ago. I have no doubt these men would have insisted on it. They would have carried you themselves, I’m certain. Truly, you’re fine to be here as long as they maintain constant vigilance, and I’m only a half-hour away if the need arises to call me again. Otherwise, I’ll be in to check on you frequently over the next few days, and I’ve left an ample supply of pain medication to see you through.”

  Shortly after that, the doctor took his leave, and Nick walked him out. She turned her head to Duncan, who sat on the edge of her bed and took her hand. His shoulder was in a sling, and she could see a white bandage peeking through. “You were shot.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Duncan shrugged the uninjured shoulder. “Aye, but it’s not too bad. It’s more of a flesh wound, and it went straight through. The doc had to pack the wound and do a little stitching, and I’ll have to take some antibiotics, but I’ll be fine. I think we’ll all be fine once we heal.”

  Nick returned then, closing the door quietly behind himself as he came to sit on the other side of her bed. As one, both men took her hands in one of theirs, and she clung tightly to them.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Sam sooner. I thought he was just being petulant. I didn’t realize how unhinged he was, or that he was going to follow me and decide to capture the beasts.” She closed her eyes as dread swept through her. “He took pictures. I don’t know if he posted them or shared them anywhere, but what if—”

  “It’s all right,” said Nick. “The beasts are gone.”

  Her eyes felt like they were bulging against her sore lids, and even the one that was swollen shut seemed like it wanted to open at the words. “Gone? What do you mean?”

  “Last night, as soon as you said you loved us, the beasts faded away. We were men again in the middle of the night, and that’s how we got you back to the house,” said Nick.

  She looked at him for a moment, searching her memories. “I remember that. Kind of. I remember you carrying me, and I saw the moon, but I didn’t realize why that was significant at the time. The curse is truly broken?”

  “Aye,” said Duncan as he leaned closer, brushing his lips against her swollen cheek in a very gentle kiss. “Your love freed us, and in more ways than one, Baylee.”

  “So even if Sam somehow disseminated the images he captured with his camera, and someone comes poking around if they’re foolish enough to believe the pictures were authentic, they won’t find anything. Not anymore,” said Nick with a purr of satisfaction. “The beasts are gone, and the curse is lifted. We’re free to be together for the rest of our lives without that dogging us.”

  “The rest of our lives?” She licked her lips and then winced when her tongue touched an open spot, and her saliva made it sting worse. “How long will that be?”

  They shared a glance, and then Nick shrugged. “We aren’t sure, but from the research we’ve done over the years, and the books on magic we’v
e collected, we think it’s a safe bet that we’ll just have our normal lifespans. What we would have had before the curse, I mean. We were forced to live as long as the curse remained in effect, but I don’t believe we’re immortal any longer. We’ll eventually grow old and die.” He sounded relieved by that.

  She clung tightly to their hands. “Let’s not be in a hurry to do that though. I just found you, and I can’t imagine losing you. Either of you.” She wasn’t certain how her family would take the news of her being involved in a triad, but she had no intention of hiding it, or pretending to be involved with only one of them. She imagined her parents would be resistant to start with, but they would come around when they saw how happy she was with Nick and Duncan.

  “We should let you get some rest, love,” said Nick.

  She held tighter to his hand and squeezed Duncan’s too. “I’d rather you rest with me. Will you just stay here while I sleep? Maybe hold me if we can find a way that doesn’t hurt myself or Duncan?”

  “Aye,” said Duncan as he curled against her, seemingly unbothered by the possibility of injuring his shoulder further. “We’ll gladly hold you whenever you want.”

  “And make love to you whenever you desire, once you’re fully healed,” said Nick.

  She wanted to protest, to insist she could make love right then—because she was certainly moved by the need for them—but reality intruded. She wanted them, but she was in no position to take them at the moment. She would have to settle for cuddles and tender affection, which was not settling by any means at all. She was positive now they hadn’t settled on her, and she certainly hadn’t settled on them. Their joining was meant to be, and their union would be a happy one.

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  Part V

  Her Dragon Temptation

  Olivia Arran

  Chapter 1

  Bastian

  I rolled my head back, fighting off the headache that clung behind my eyes and forced my shoulders down, leaning back in my chair. Papers covered my desk, the dark, cherry wood completely obscured by financial demands and calls for help from clan members, each equally important and deserving of my attention, and each weighing in my stomach like a lead brick. Sparks spluttered in the hearth, the fire leaping as another log met its demise, but the heat offered no comfort from the cold. High ceilings, cold, wooden floors, and sash windows that had seen better times, this was a house that had once stood proud through many a winter, shored up with the love and attention of a family.

  My family.

  Scattered now.

  Mother and father; dead. Sister, gone to London with her new mate.

  Leaving me to carry on.

  My clan depended on me. There were expectations to be met. The Shifter Council had made their position very clear. I either rose from the ashes like the mythical phoenix, or lose everything.

  A pop from the fire shattered the silence, along with my suspiciously sounding huff of despair.

  Shrugging off the self pity that threatened to overwhelm me, I picked up my glass, swirling the stout crystal until the amber liquid coated the sides in an even swirl. There was only one thing for it. Only one reasonable thing, anyway. I was the alpha of the Jewelcrest Clan, and I had no heir.

  I needed a mate.

  A suitable one, of course. One who understood what was expected. Who wouldn’t cling to absurd notions of love and forever. A woman who could give me what I really longed for. A child.

  Fire burned a path down my throat, the brandy searching out the ever present chill and failing miserably. Slamming the glass back down, I lurched to my feet, grabbing at the table as the room spun in hazy circles. Four and a half bottles. I noted the amount absentmindedly, re-counting the bottles littered on the floor to make sure. So that’s what it took to get a dragon shifter drunk.

  Tapping my chin, I blinked as the room continued to spin, my stomach lurching back and forth with an intensity that had me gritting my teeth.

  Time for bed.

  Wiping my hands on my jeans, I carefully placed one foot in front of the other, edging my way around the desk.

  I stumbled to a halt, dragging a hand through my hair. “I didn’t write the letter!” My bellow echoed around the silent room, cutting through what had now settled into a pleasant buzz.

  What letter? my dragon piped up, sounding a little too sober for my liking.

  I poked him inside my head while scowling around the room. Wishing, not for the first time, that we could have a conversation face to face. Or a drinking match. Or a brawl. To find a mate.

  With a letter? He sent me an image of his snout curled up in disgust, his displeasure at my idea clear. But at least he was talking to me. Maybe the alcohol did affect him, the self-righteous asshole.

  “Why not?” This time, I answered out loud, adding an indignant snort to break the heavy silence. “It’s how they used to do things, and there’s plenty of online—” Ding! Light bulb moment. My hand hit my face a little harder than I’d intended, dislodging my buzz. Of course … the internet!

  What are you thinking of—

  I cut my dragon off with an unsteady swipe of my hand through the air, and strode back around my desk. Misjudging, I banged into the sharp corner, cursing the air blue and hobbled the last couple of steps. Yanking my chair back, I sank down and jabbed at the keyboard, rubbing my hands together with barely restrained glee when the dark screen lit up with the familiar blue haze. Several attempts at a password later, some careful one-fingered typing, and I had the website open. A dating site for shifters. Who would have thought it?

  I don’t think this is a good idea. For once my dragon didn’t sound like his usual confident and cocky self, more quiet and reserved, almost anxious.

  Scrolling through the page, I searched for the join button, but the words were jumping all over, my eyes watering with the effort to focus. “Psssht, you want a mate, don’t you?”

  Silence met my question.

  Success. A new screen popped open. Name. Address. Age. At least I didn’t have to lie about my age, I was young for a shifter—only just nearing thirty. The next question had my finger hovering over the mouse, my mouth twisting as I flitted back and forth.

  Are you open to interspecies matches?

  Translation: would you mate with a human?

  Not that this dating site was promising a mating, or anything quiet so … permanent. Maybe an ad in the paper would be a better idea?

  A muffled snort inside my head, then, interspecies doesn’t just mean human.

  Oh. Oh! My eyes widened as his meaning filtered through the fog of alcohol. Different shifters. I tried to imagine it. A dragon with a bear. Or a wolf. Stranger things had happened. Or, at least, I was guessing they had. My finger tapped softly on the mouse. I was open to new things. After all, I was trying this, wasn’t I? Anyway, the dominant gene always won with interspecies mating, so any child of mine would be a dragon.

  Another couple of clicks, a little creative stretching of the truth, and the screen blinked at me, the success message plastered across the monitor in big, bold letters.

  Doubt chose that exact moment to worm its way in, sneaking past my reckless defenses and setting up camp in my head. With a fucking foghorn. I was looking for a mate; would the kind of woman on one of these sites really be what I was looking for?

  At least I’d know she wasn’t looking for love.

  Sex? Yeah. But she wouldn’t be expecting a mating proposal.

  Hitting the shutdown button, I resolutely poured myself a celebratory glass of brandy. I’d have to convince whomever I decided on that she wanted to stick around. I wasn’t physically repellant, or violently ugly—unless I’d been lied t
o my whole life. I sipped at the liquid, musing it over. I could probably be classed as attractive enough. I was a shifter, so I was strong and healthy. Nothing unusual. No genetic flaws or abnormalities to discover. Unless she was human, then the whole turning into a dragon thing… Yeah, that might come as a shock.

  The last log crumbled into ash, the flames swallowing it whole as I gazed into the flickering depths. Women were confusing creatures. Emotional. You’d think having a sister would have deepened my understanding, but Astrid wasn’t exactly what you’d call … normal. She was a Seer. The Seer, and therefore a whole other level of confusing. She’d also been absent for most of my adult life, having run away at the age of sixteen. It was only recently that we’d been reunited, and that hadn’t gone … quite so well. I missed her, though I’d rather cut off my arm than tell her that.

  She called me stubborn. Pig headed. Determined. Always wanting my own way. And she was right. When I really wanted something, nothing could stop me.

  I would just apply the same logic to this as I did to everything else in my life.

  And look where that got you….

  I winced, taking another swallow to bolster my ego. Even my dragon judged me, and found me lacking. The cold crept back in, circling in my stomach like a lazy cat settling into it’s favorite place to nap. I’d messed up, made a few mistakes, and no one was going to let me forget it. Astrid had forgiven me, but she didn’t look at me the same way anymore. I’d burned a lot of bridges in my short time as Alpha. “I’m trying to make amends,” I whispered into the flames.

  Are you?

  His words rang true. Maybe I didn’t fucking want to.

  Faye

  Fixing my other arm by my side, I rang the doorbell, craning my head back to get another look at the huge house looming above me. It was definitely the right place. I’d double checked my directions, and the villagers down the way had confirmed that this was the home of the Alpha of the Jewelcrest Clan.