Table of Contents
Epilogue
A Teaser
Felix
Kade
Author’s Notes
About the Author
Forbidden Blood
The Wizard by the Sea
The Wizard’s Desire
The Omega’s Secret Pregnancy
Anna Wineheart
Contents
A Teaser
1. Felix
2. Kade
3. Felix
4. Kade
5. Felix
6. Kade
7. Felix
8. Kade
9. Felix
10. Felix
11. Felix
12. Kade
13. Felix
14. Felix
15. Kade
16. Felix
17. Kade
18. Kade
19. Kade
20. Felix
21. Kade
22. Felix
23. Kade
24. Kade
25. Felix
26. Kade
27. Felix
28. Kade
29. Kade
30. Kade
31. Felix
32. Kade
33. Kade
34. Felix
35. Felix
36. Kade
37. Kade
38. Felix
39. Kade
40. Felix
41. Kade
42. Felix
43. Kade
44. Kade
45. Felix
46. Felix
47. Felix
48. Kade
49. Kade
50. Felix
51. Kade
52. Kade
53. Kade
Epilogue
Author’s Notes
About the Author
Forbidden Blood
The Wizard by the Sea
The Wizard’s Desire
Copyright Anna Wineheart 2017
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means whatsoever without express written permission from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This novel contains graphic sexual content between two men. Intended for mature readers only.
Warnings: Self-lubricating butts, angst, and bittersweet tension
For two Really Stubborn guys.
Special thanks to my mentor, Jessica Mueller, for all she has done.
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A Teaser
“This your new place?”
“Yeah.” Felix tenses, then slips off the bike, his paper bag crinkling in his hands. He tugs at the buckle under his chin. “I won’t be here for long, though.”
Kade climbs off his bike, turning to look him over. The moment he does, Felix’s scent slams into him like a wave, heady and musky. It winds fingers into his instincts and hauls, and in three seconds, he triggers Kade’s rut. Kade’s heart pounds. His blood surges down, and he’s rock-hard in his pants before he thinks, You’re in heat?
Felix’s throat works. He looks away, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Do you... want a drink? I’ve got tea and water inside.”
“Yeah.” His voice comes out gravelly. Kade doesn’t even know where he’s finding his words, when he’s staring at the hard line in Felix’s pants, the shadows it casts from the weak streetlights. It makes him leak, and he needs to feel Felix against him, needs to mark him with his scent. “Didn’t think I was thirsty.”
He can’t help looking at Felix’s wrist again, but it’s hidden behind a thick wool sleeve. So he follows Felix to the front door, breathing him in, the fresh sweat in his hair, the musk of his body, the sweet, sharp tang of his arousal.
Felix’s key trembles against the keyhole. His nostrils flare, too, and Kade knows what he smells, sees the way his throat works. “I’ll get you something to drink. Just... just make yourself at home.”
The door opens, welcoming them like a refuge. Kade follows him past the stacks of sealed cardboard boxes, Felix’s footsteps loud in his ears. Felix taps the switch, and warm light bounces off his golden hair, lights up his green eyes. He looks away, his lips glistening, his throat pale. Kade knows he shouldn’t be touching this man. Felix made it clear that Kade wasn’t good enough, and that memory still stings.
So Kade follows him to the empty kitchen, his body quivering with need, his boxers damp. With Felix’s back turned, he reaches into his shirt, tugs off the chain around his neck, barely glancing at the silver ring on it before shoving it into his jean pocket. Then he pulls his jacket open, so it won’t be so damn hot inside.
“I have tea,” Felix says, his voice lowering by a notch. He glances at Kade from the corner of his eye, his gaze flickering down Kade’s chest, to the tent in his pants. Felix’s breath rushes out of him. “Or... or water. Or coffee. Whatever you want.”
Kade swallows. “What if I want something else?”
“We’ll find a solution for it,” Felix says. He lifts his chin to expose his throat. Taste me, Kade reads, and he’s crossing the five feet between them, curling his hand around Felix’s narrow waist, dipping his head to mesh their lips together.
1
Felix
Meadowfall, California
It’s two days into spring, and Meadowfall is freezing.
Felix huffs into his palms, the paper bag crinkling under his arm. Behind him, the pharmacy’s cool fluorescent lights glow from the windows, chasing away the shadows of the parking lot. The pharmacist, Sue, flips the sign from Open to Closed. She waves at him; he smiles crookedly, waving back.
It had been a pain, remembering his pills so late. Felix winces. He’s been through heats ten thousand times, but somehow he forgets the suppressants, even though he’s right on the cusp of the next heat. He can’t remember anything, and he should be better with these. He used to be.
His body hums, flushed with warmth. Once he takes the suppressants, at least he won’t be desperately in need of sex.
He should have gotten the pills earlier. He’ll be interviewing for that cashiering job tomorrow, in that gas station down by the expressway. No need for some alpha tool to scent his pheromones and start sneering about attracting customers.
“Come on already,” he mutters, fishing his phone from his pocket. “It can’t take you thirty minutes to pick me up.”
A second later, the phone buzzes, its screen glowing. Sorry! his brother texts. Work things came up. Running out of house. Ask dad to pick you up? Sorry! Going dark in a min.
“No,” Felix groans. It’s midnight. He can’t possibly ring his father, of all people, to make the drive across town. “Really, Taylor? Call Dad?”
He’s had enough of calling his father for favors. If it weren’t for him, Felix would still be back in Highton, mired in late loft rents and a towering pile of unsold watercolor paintings. He bites his lip, scrolling through his phone contacts for a friendly name. Hi, Jane, haven’t heard from you in a while! Are you still in Meadowfall? I kind of need a favor if you’re still awake. I took a bus downtown for some meds and need to get home.
“No. No way,” Felix says, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He’s done asking for favors. Three miles isn’t much of a walk
, and he’ll probably get home by 1 AM.
He tucks the paper bag under his chin, pulls the hood of his jacket down, and folds his hands under his arms, trudging along the sidewalk. Tomorrow, he’ll hopefully have a new job. He’ll be able to pay rent, and invite Taylor over for dinner in two weeks. If Taylor is even in town at all.
And that’s all Felix allows himself to think about Meadowfall: his brother, his father, and the familiar schools and craft shops he abandoned five years ago. Not the other people—person—he left behind. He sucks in a deep breath, pushing the thoughts out of his mind. He had left, and he doesn’t need a reason for it.
His heat seeps into his limbs like an ache. He thinks about pulling the paper bag open, popping a pill dry. He doesn’t need the suppressant. It’ll save him eighty cents, and he’ll use it on another day when he’ll need it more. Like tomorrow.
Still, a hot water bottle would be nice.
Thunder rumbles half a mile away. It’s no ordinary thunder, though, because it draws steadily closer like a motorbike. Felix turns, watching the busy roads to see if a biker’s going to roar down this street. It gives him a little thrill, seeing them. I just like bikes. That’s all.
The bike skims through the intersections, weaving between cars. Its model is familiar under the orange streetlights: chrome with gleaming black paint, its single headlight blazing a path straight ahead. Except it slows, tipping slightly to the right to change lanes, and it’s purring down this road, on the lane right next to his sidewalk.
He slows his footsteps to watch, the machine’s roar vibrating in his heart. The bike rolls to a stop next to him, and suddenly Felix isn’t looking at the bike anymore. He’s looking at its rider: leather jacket clinging to his biceps, dark jeans wrapped around his bulging thighs, and his face—
His heart slams into his ribs.
Sharp mahogany eyes, strong jaw, dark hair scattered across his forehead. It’s a face Felix knows far too well. Because of course he has to bump into Kaden Brentwood again, and of course Kade can smell him from anywhere in town.
Kade’s gaze flickers over him, down his chest and hips and legs, pausing on his ratty sneakers, then darting back to meet his eyes. His nostrils flare. Felix hopes that Kade can’t smell him over the bike’s oily exhaust, but he picks out the familiar pine-and-cedar scent anyway, Kade’s musk. The ache in his body intensifies. Kade’s eyes darken.
Two days back in Meadowfall, and Felix has to meet the one person whose body he knows better than his own. The one person who had proposed, and he had dropped everything to run from.
Shit. He forces a smile, says, “Hi,” and spins on his heels, striding down the sidewalk. He should turn the other way, go somewhere Kade can’t follow.
The bike revs. Kade rolls alongside Felix on the pavement, eyes fixed on him. “I didn’t know you were back,” Kade says, his voice rumbling just the same as Felix remembers, curling into his ears. “Saw some ads of your work on the internet.”
Heat crawls up Felix’s cheeks. You’ve been following news about me? His heart flutters, at the same time his stomach twists. I never forgot about you, he thinks, staring at the weeds along the sidewalk. I never wanted to leave. “Oh.”
“You staying long this time?”
It means I want to see you around. Felix swallows. He can still read this man, five years after he fled. “I don’t know,” he says. “Just a while, I guess. I’m moving away soon. Meadowfall is a small place.”
If Kade reads through his lies, he doesn’t say. But he follows on his bike, three feet from Felix, and checks the road when they approach a street corner. Felix doesn’t know why this man is still with him, why he’s not taking off yet, disgust scrawled across his face.
The streets yawn empty to either side, so he crosses the road, Kade inching along on his bike.
“You’re not staying with family?” Kade glances at the street sign, and Felix hears his thoughts clicking together. “New place?”
He shrugs. They shouldn’t be talking so easily. He’s hurt Kade, more than he can repair, and Kade is still here, his visor pushed up on his helmet.
“Want a ride?” Kade asks. He’s not asking about sex, but Felix can’t help thinking it anyway. He smells the cleanness of Kade’s scent, the way he hasn’t marked himself with another person recently. Kade can probably smell the same on him, too. It teases his heat, makes his body remember those broad shoulders, Kade’s warmth soaking into his skin. “It’s gonna get colder out.”
Felix swallows. It’ll be an hour of uncomfortable walking out in this cold, his body longing for heat and touch. Kade’s not asking for sex, he’s not asking to pick up where they left off. Felix bites his lip. Is that all you’re offering? A ride home? “Why?”
For a long moment, Kade studies him, eyes flickering over his face. He opens his mouth, closes it, and glances off to the side. “No reason. Just thought it’ll be faster if you ride. You won’t freeze as quick on the bike. I’m headed north anyway.”
It’s not where Kade’s family home used to be. Felix winces. If he’d known earlier, he wouldn’t have rented this place. “You moved?”
Kade shrugs, his eyes unreadable. “Are you jumping on, or not?”
The thought of sitting on the cruiser, so close to Kade, makes blood rush down between his legs. Felix gulps. He should run as far from Kade as possible, before Kade really smells him. He should hurt Kade so Kade recoils, speeding away. Instead, Felix says, “Yeah. I am. Just... because it’s cold.”
Kade turns the ignition off and hands over the ring of keys. “Helmet’s in the trunk.”
Felix’s fingers brush his callused hand, a spark sizzling down his skin. Kade’s nostrils flare. You smell like lavender, Kade once murmured in his ear. Sweet, but not like honey. Just right.
He gulps and pops the trunk open, grabbing the only other helmet there. Why do you have a spare helmet? Is it for someone else? There used to be one for him, but it’s been five years, and plenty has changed. Are you seeing someone else now?
Felix pulls the helmet onto his head, buckling it. The foam inside smells like different people—the woodsy aroma of alphas, the grassy scent of betas, the sweet floral note of omegas—and he can’t tell if any one person has been using it more than the rest. He locks the trunk and hands the keys back, heart thumping. I can’t believe I’m doing this. With Kade.
Kade flips down the passenger foot pegs for him, then restarts the engine. The bike roars. Felix sets a hand gingerly on the trunk, steps onto one peg, and swings his other leg over the leather seat. It’s surprising how his body still remembers this, fitting on a motorbike up against his former mate. He pushes the thought away, settling two inches behind Kade, and his heart aches at that distance. They used to be closer.
“Ready?” Kade asks.
Felix curls his fingers into the edges of the pillion seat, careful to keep his thighs away from Kade’s. Kade is broad—shoulders, chest, waist. Never thought you’d be between my legs again. “Yeah,” Felix says.
“Where are you staying?”
“Walnut Street. Three miles down, next to Sally’s Grocery. It’s tucked in with a bunch of other smaller houses.”
Kade punches in the address on his GPS. Felix barely registers the new device, when he’s looking at the expanse of Kade’s back, the breadth of his shoulders, all hidden within his jacket. It’s been so long. Kade twists the throttle, and the bike lunges forward, sending Felix’s back thumping against the trunk.
In hindsight, he should have flipped the visor down. But he forgot, and the wind whips around them, sending Kade’s scent right into his face, the mellow, familiar bite of it. Felix breathes it deep into his lungs, remembers the times when he was pressed under this man, back arched, fingers clawing into worn sheets.
Kade’s scent goes right down to his cock, sets his nerves alight. The aching throb of his heat flares like wildfire in his limbs, burning low in his stomach. He leans in close, sniffing, growing damp, his pants stretching too tigh
t around his hips. It’s been five years, and his body still reacts the exact same way. I can’t go into heat right now!
Kade glances down the side streets, watching for traffic. Behind him, Felix’s throat runs dry. He squirms, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it’s hard to when his alpha sits inches away, and all Felix wants is for Kade to bend him over, to mount him and knot in him. It’ll feel like things are back as they were. Felix yearns for that. He has told himself repeatedly that he doesn’t need Kade in his life.
Felix is so, so wrong.
He breathes in Kade’s scent, inching closer on the leather seat. He wants to spread his legs even though Kade’s not looking. He wants Kade to know. Wants him to stop, turn around, pin him up against a wall. Felix shouldn’t be wanting this. He should’ve taken those goddamn pills, but nothing will change what he feels for this man.
He curls his fingers into the seat, heat throbbing between his legs.
Whatever Kade wants tonight, Felix will freely yield to him.
2
Kade
Five years.
Five fucking years, and Kade has to find Felix huddled on the street, clutching a little paper bag that’s probably full of pills. It’s chilly, and of course the idiot is out by himself, walking three miles with a thin jacket on.
He won’t slam his fist on his bike. Instead, he grits his teeth and rides, the warmth of Felix’s body seeping through the scant space between them, tempting. Kade sucks his breath in slowly, tries not to think about his lavender scent, the times Felix writhed under him and hauled him in for a kiss.
Felix had looked surprised tonight, eyes wide, mouth open. Kade had smelled him four streets away and ridden up. Few omegas smell like lavender, and he’d thought... He’d been hoping for a familiar face.
Felix rides behind him now, something Kade has been hoping to see for the last five years.
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