Shadow's Passion: The Shadow Warder Series: Prequel Novella

by Molle McGregor

  "He's a good hunter, but I never bring him if we might run into Vorati. He's trained to fight, but I don't want to risk him." Her affection for the dog rang in her voice.

  "How old is he?"

  "Almost forty. A friend brought him to me when it became clear I wouldn't be coming home."

  "How are you keeping him alive?" Gabe asked.

  At his question, she smiled and raised an eyebrow. "I'm a healer. Every day when I brush him, I check him for any degradation and heal it. I can't stand the idea of losing him. That's why I never take him out if I think there's any danger. If he gets too damaged in a fight I can't save him. It's not natural, I know. Selfish of me. But I love him."

  "I get it. I'd do the same if I could. I've always wanted a dog. Warders can't heal like you can. And watching them die after a few short years—"

  "Even with us, it's the healers who keep pets. And still not many of us. They're so fragile."

  She fell into silence. Gabe shifted back, letting her take the lead. He was confident he could follow their back trail to the tower, though they'd been careful to cover the most obvious signs of their passage. Walking behind her, it was easier to asses any threats and keep her safe. Not to mention he had a great view of her ass. A long day of hiking in the cold, early spring air. A skimpy packed lunch and no luck finding the nest. None of it dimmed his arousal at the sight of her curvy legs and ass moving with assured strength over the uneven terrain.

  He should have shaken the dream by now. If she'd been annoying, complaining about the pace he'd set or whining over sore feet, he could have pushed it away. But she'd matched him, pointing out helpful landmarks and filling him in on the locals who might be nearby. She'd done her best to move quietly and cover their trail, completely focused on their task. That would have been enough, but Celeste also managed to enjoy herself. The day was chilly, with a winter gray sky. Spring was on its way, but it hadn't arrived yet. Still, Celeste found beauty in the leafless trees and dead underbrush, beauty she didn't hesitate to share. She hadn't chosen her lonely life on the mountain, but he could see she made the best of it. Hard not to respect that. Gabe couldn't remember the last time he'd been so relaxed in anyone's company. Not since Daniel was alive. Well, relaxed except for the growing desire to throw her down in the leaves, strip off those leggings, and spread her legs.

  With an inaudible sigh, Gabe followed her back to the tower. He didn't hold out any hope that he could seduce her. This was not a woman who was easily led. Celeste might share his attraction. Gabe was fairly sure she did. But it was a big leap from helping him hunt the nest invading her territory to sleeping with him. The first was a transgression, the second an unimaginable offense. She might have been cast out, but Gabe didn't think she'd go so far as to betray her people by taking a Warder to her bed.

  ***

  They were greeted by Fitz prancing with excitement and the rich scent of stew. At his size, the frenetic leaps and hops were hard to take in. Celeste resisted laughing at him. Always excited to see her, the big dog seemed especially thrilled to see Gabe again. She held a hand out in front of her, palm facing the dog.

  "Fitz, sit." He sat, rump trembling with suppressed energy. "Greet." Restraining his exuberance with effort, the dog approached and rubbed his head into her side. Then, far more quickly than he normally did, he left her for Gabe. She shrugged. Novelty was hard to come by on their mountain. She wasn't going to resent Fitz enjoying his new friend. Gabe would be leaving soon enough.

  She'd started the stew in her dutch oven that morning and left it to cook for most of the day. By now the meat should be falling apart, the juices a thick gravy. Lunch hadn't been enough for the tall Warder. She should have known to pack more food. Fortunately, she'd made plenty for their dinner.

  She stripped off her jacket and set about getting their meal on the table. Though he hadn't complained, she knew Gabe was starving. She was pretty hungry herself. They'd covered a lot of miles. Gabe excused himself to go clean up. Moments later, the shower cut on. Fitz followed her into the kitchen, hoping she'd ladle him a bowl of the stew. After forty years, he should know better. He didn't get a share of their dinner, but he did get a full food dish. The big dog contented himself with his dog food as Celeste pulled out the bowl of dry ingredients she'd mixed before they'd left. This late in winter she didn't have much fresh fruit, but she did still have a few apples, carefully wrapped in paper and stored in a small barrel in the back of her pantry. She peeled and sliced them quickly, setting them in the pan to cook. Adding eggs and milk to her dry ingredients, she beat the batter for her favorite apple cake. She wanted to get the dessert in the oven before Gabe got back.

  Silly to try to soften him up with good food. Did that even work on men? Not for the first time, she shook her head in annoyance at herself. Once, she'd been smooth. An excellent flirt, sophisticated, good at playing the game, letting men know she was interested. Pursuing those she desired or letting them pursue her. She'd always been choosy, but she'd never been shy or clumsy about making her desires clear. Now, after all these years alone, all she felt was shy and clumsy.

  Stew and apple cake wouldn't help her seduce the Warder. She thought he liked her well enough. That didn't mean he'd be willing to betray his people to sleep with her. Put that way, she assumed a lot to think he'd take a such a risk. A man who looked like Gabriel would have no shortage of bed partners. What would he want with her? Celeste spread the apple slices she'd caramelized in the cast iron pan. She poured the batter on top and slid the pan in the oven. Two rolls she'd defrosted that morning went in beside it. There. At least the food was taken care of. Now, she needed to change into something. Her socks were sweaty, leggings streaked with crushed leaves and dirt. She didn't want to imagine the state of her long underwear top.

  "Smells great," Gabe said from behind her. Celeste couldn't hide her jolt of surprise. He didn't just move silently in the woods. If he hadn't spoken, she'd only have known he was there by his scent. Freshly showered, he still smelled of Gabe, warm and masculine beneath the herbal soap she kept for guests.

  "It's ready to be served." She gestured to the dutch oven on top of the stove. "I just have to get changed. Can you take the rolls out when the timer goes off? Leave the pan in the oven."

  With that, she disappeared up the stairs to her room. She really needed to get rid of these nerves. There was nothing to be nervous about. Except there was. Her decision had been made. If he turned her down, she'd be embarrassed. Mortified. But it wouldn't kill her. And if he didn't turn her down, she thought she might be in for a very good time. First, she had to take a quick shower and figure out what to wear.

  Chapter Six

  Gabe busied himself feeding the fire, then finding bowls and silverware for their dinner. His stomach wouldn't stop growling. He'd been surprised to see a cake rising in the oven when he'd removed the fresh rolls. When had she found time to bake a cake? It smelled like apples and spice. Table manners had never been a huge focus, but Gabe hoped he didn't fall on the food like a ravening beast. Warders burned a lot of calories at rest. Hiking all day? He should have thought to tell her to pack a bigger lunch.

  Her footfall on the stairs came sooner than he'd expected. When he'd heard the shower turn on he'd figured he had at least a half hour before she'd be ready to eat. Instead, she descended the stairs less than fifteen minutes after she'd left, looking as if she'd spent the day lounging by the fire, not working up a sweat on the mountain. Her hair remained in its complicated braided knot. The style was oddly formal for a day in the woods. It fit her; elegant and intelligent. Smart to wrap up all that shiny hair so an attacker couldn't use it against her. She'd ditched the leggings and sweater for a pair of worn jeans and fitted t-shirt. Her feet were bare beneath the faded hem of the jeans, toenails painted a delicate shell pink. The clothes might be casual, but she wore them with grace.

  "Do you want wine or beer?" Celeste asked, moving past him into the kitchen.

  "Whatever you're having is fine,
" he said. She seemed nervous. Weird. He'd bet everything she wasn't scared of him. She hadn't even flinched when he'd explained what a Sicarius was. He was learning that Celeste didn't scare easily. So where were the nerves coming from?

  She ducked into the pantry, holding a bottle of red wine when she straightened. The jeans cupped her ass beautifully, but it was the long sleeved t-shirt, the exact color of her pale pink toenails, that caught his attention. Thin waffle knit, fitted perfectly, the shirt did nothing to hide the gentle sway of her breasts as she moved. The line across her back told him she was wearing a bra. The movement of her round, full breasts and her peaked nipples said it was a thin one. Three undone buttons at the neckline exposed a hint of cleavage. Gabe swallowed. Thanks to his work on the fire, the tower was warm. Hard nipples in a warm room. He swallowed again.

  As if oblivious to his response, Celeste took the bowls he'd set out and began ladling the stew. Silent, he helped move the food and wine to the table. For the first time in ages, Gabe didn't know what to say. Everything running through his head would get him slapped. He chose discretion. And hunger.

  She'd filled the generous earthenware bowls with stew. It didn't last long. Neither did the fresh, crusty rolls. When his spoon scraped the bottom, she gestured to the kitchen.

  "There's plenty more." Gabe stood to refill his bowl. "Turn off the oven while you're in there?"

  He did as she asked, returning with a half-full bowl. Celeste poured herself a second glass of wine. Based on the amount of alcohol in her pantry, he didn't think she drank much. A second glass of wine meant he wasn't imagining her nerves. She waited until he finished his bowl of stew before speaking.

  "I was thinking," she said, a faint tremor in her voice. She cleared her throat. "I was thinking we should—that you could—I mean, we might—" She stopped, flushing deep pink. Drawing a breath, she continued in a rush. "I was thinking we should have sex."

  Gabe stared at her in shock. Of all the things he imagined she was trying to spit out, that wasn't on the list. Despite her nerves and hard nipples. Had Celeste just propositioned him? Her pink cheeks deepened to red. She covered her eyes with one hand, reaching blindly for her wine glass with the other. He moved it out of reach before she knocked it over. Suddenly, it was very important that she not be under the influence.

  "Sorry," she said from behind her hand. "Sorry, that was rude. I'm not usually so—" Celeste trailed off, unable to meet his eyes.

  "Don't be sorry," he said in a low growl. "I'm just surprised. I didn't think you'd be interested."

  Celeste dropped her hand, staring at him.

  "Have you not seen yourself?" She tossed out a gesture meant to encompass him from head to feet. Again, she reached for her wine. He slid it farther away. "I'd be interested even if I wasn't stuck on this mountain by myself. Add in how long it’s been—"

  Gabe didn't stop his smile as her flush darkened further. She'd been so in control, so calm and contained since he'd met her. Seeing her like this, awkward and uncertain, made her even more desirable.

  "Clearly," she said, "two glasses of wine is one too many for me. Its been a long time since I came on to a man. Obviously, I've lost my game."

  Gabe laughed out loud. "You have game?" he asked. Teasing her was becoming a habit. She straightened in her chair, holding on to offense in place of embarrassment.

  "I did. Once upon a time, if I'd set my sights on you, you wouldn't have known what hit you. Now I'm so out of practice, the best I can do is clumsy propositions. This is embarrassing."

  "Not really. I'm flattered," he said. As adorable as she was in her uncertainty, Gabe found he wanted to set her at ease. "The truth is, a woman like you doesn't need game. A blunt proposal works just as well. Better. It means I don't have to wonder if I'm reading you right. I've been thinking about getting my hands on you all day. I wasn't sure if you'd beat the shit out of me if I tried." He pushed his chair back and stood.

  Celeste looked up at him. "I doubt I could beat you up," she said, anticipation rising in her voice.

  "I'd rather you didn't try," Gabe said. He reached out one hand to her. Celeste slid her fingers into his, her heartbeat suddenly audible in the quiet room. Gabe wondered if his own heart pounded just as hard. The tingling warmth from her fingers met his skin and began to seep into him, this time setting him afire as it sank deep.

  He examined her standing before him, her body trembling. With deliberate care, his hands went to her hair. Since the moment he'd met her, Gabe had wanted to see this hair loose. Dark gold, shot with strands of platinum, it glowed. One by one, he pulled the pins from her bun, freeing one braid after another. She reached to pull the tiny elastics from the braids. Gabe stopped her.

  "Let me do it," he said. Celeste dropped her hands, her eyelids drifting shut. Her hair was longer than he'd guessed, reaching to the small of her back in rippling waves of light. Soft, like silk. Gabe wanted it sliding over his skin.

  He wrapped one arm behind her waist and pulled her close. She was tiny against his height. A problem easily solved. Palming her ass in both hands, Gabe lifted her, bringing her mouth to his. Lips met, a gentle brush at first. A getting to know you kiss. The heat he'd come to expect when they touched spread across their lips, drawing him closer in a magnetic pull. Her tongue brushed his, tentative. In answer, Gabe deepened the kiss, slanting his mouth, rubbing his tongue into her. She ignited, twining her legs around his waist, gripping his hair to drag his mouth even closer.

  Celeste's mouth was wine and heat. Despite his dream, Gabe hadn't thought they'd end up like this. He definitely hadn't thought she'd be as passionate as his dream Celeste. She squirmed against him, dragging her breasts across his chest. Her lips were soft under his, mouth eager. She met him halfway, her tongue stroking, lips sucking at his. She nipped his lower lip, then soothed the pain with a brush of her tongue. Kissing wasn't a priority for him when he hooked up with a woman. It had been years since he'd had a regular lover. Certainly not one intimate enough to kiss. Now that he had his mouth on her, he couldn't imagine not kissing Celeste.

  They were still fully clothed, still in her kitchen, and Gabe already knew this would be like no encounter he'd ever had. Her hands spread her warm, tingling energy everywhere, taking him over, driving his need for her higher. He wouldn't be able to fuck her and keep his distance. She was seeping into him, invading his very cells. Gabe couldn't push her out. Not unless he let her go. The warmth of her carried echoes of her passion. He wanted more. Warning bells went off in the back of his mind. The truth was, he had no idea what she was doing when she touched him. It might be dangerous. She could be weakening him. He didn't care. Just this once, he didn't want to think about strength and duty. He wanted to forget pain and betrayal. Gabe wanted this woman. He wanted to strip her naked and touch every inch of her body. Worry about the consequences could come later. Adjusting his grip on her perfect ass, Gabe headed for the stairs. The couch was more convenient, but he'd need room to move.

  ***

  Celeste groaned when she realized where he was taking her. Aware he needed to see for a minute, she trailed her hot mouth down the side of his neck, tasting his skin with flicks of her tongue. Celeste tried to stay still as Gabe took the stairs two at a time. She'd dreamed of having his hands on her. The dream was a rough sketch next to the reality. His fingers, long and strong, cupped her ass with a possession that shouldn't have been such a turn-on. He'd pulled her hard into his abdomen, putting just the right amount of pressure on the heat between her legs. A little more and she'd come just from grinding against his ridged abs as she kissed him. Gabe was nothing like any man she'd ever taken to her bed. All hard muscles and strength. The things he could do to her made her dizzy. She planned to explore every inch of his steely body. Some inches more than others.

  She was fully clothed, but she felt naked. Just as with the other times they'd touched, Gabe's energy had reached for hers, slipping over her skin, soaking into her. Feeding her the flavor and scent of his arousal
. This time, Celeste was clearly aware of her own energy reaching back, twining with his, wrapping around them in a web of power that was neither his nor hers, but something new. A dim flash of panic cut through her haze of desire. She'd never known anything like this. Never even heard of it. How did she know it wasn't dangerous? The thought skittered away as Gabe pressed her to the bedroom door, swinging it open. The pressure was gone a second later, replaced by the bounce of her mattress against her back.

  Gabe's hands left her to reach for her clothes and Celeste knew nothing was going to stop her from getting as much of him as she could. Thanks to whatever was happening with their energy, she knew exactly how much he wanted her. The white hot need in him, all focused on her, stole her breath. Did he feel her need for him? Gabe dragged her jeans from her legs. She tore at her t-shirt, ripping it off. At the sight of her lying spread across her white duvet, Gabe froze. If she hadn't known the strength of his desire, Celeste might have blushed again.

  She didn't have a big collection of lingerie. Why bother when there was no one to see it? Impulse had goaded her into ordering the provocative bra and thong from a catalog a few months ago. A long-buried part of her had hoped she might get the chance to wear the sheer pink lace set. The bra did more to frame her breasts than to cover them, the swirling lace design highlighting the hard peaks of her nipples. Matching thong panties were the same, framing the curls between her legs, drawing the eye down.

  "Arms over your head," Gabe ordered, his voice guttural. A flash of excited heat. Celeste followed his direction. She should have guessed he'd be dominant in bed. As long as he let her play too, she didn't mind. She liked it. The gravelly need in his voice fanned the fire spreading inside her. Reaching above her head, she gripped the duvet, arching her back. Her swollen breasts threatened to spill over the flimsy cups of the bra.

  "Fuck," Gabe muttered under his breath, hands stripping his shirt with determined efficiency. Celeste felt a rush of power at knowing she was doing this to him, cranking his need higher, meeting it with her own. "Spread your legs," he said.