by Sage Hunter
She awoke as he descended back onto his home planet of Daskan. Which was fortunate for her, because she was not holding on as tightly as she should have been, and she needed to do that in order to not fall off as he zoomed through the planet’s atmosphere. Celeste clutched his smooth skin as tightly as she could.
Zephyr landed on the side of one of the planet’s rocky cliffs, clutching onto it with his long claws. Once had caught his breath some and gathered himself, he flew up into the sky again and seamlessly floated back to their white, cliffside castle. Once he landed there, Celeste carefully got from his back and climbed down to the flat surface where their home lay. She watched curiously at he shifted from his dragon form and back to his more humanoid alien form. He contorted, bones cracking and shifting back into their places. Celeste shuttered a bit, thinking about what that must feel like. She could not imagine and she did not really want to, except empathetically, she supposed.
As soon as her dragon was back to looking like her General, she rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him as tightly as possible without hurting him further. The cuts on his chest and neck looked far worse now that he was more like a man and less like an unstoppable beast.
“Come on,” she told him. “Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.” She looked up at him and they kissed tenderly. Heaven help her, she loved him so much. He was now no longer the answer to Earth’s prayers. She was her literal hero. And her literal hero deserved some tender loving care.
Celeste’s pregnancy was not as long as a typical human pregnancy, but it was long enough for her. By her fifth month, her abdomen was completely swollen and she spent most of her time in bed so as not to injure herself or the baby. “I feel so lazy,” she complained to Zephyr, who continued to work as well as take care of her. It was as if he had been preparing his whole life for this, which made her realize that just as the women of Earth had long been a part of this fertilization pact, the Daskani had been planning for fatherhood. The people of Earth needed babies, and the Daskani wanted badly to have children of their own.
“Ahhhhh!” she cried out in the middle of the night, while she and Zephyr were in bed. He awoke at once and brought her into his arms, thinking that it had been one of the nightmares that had been troubling her of late. But no. This was labor pains.
“It’s happening!” Celeste shouted in agony. “It’s contractions!”
Zephyr did not know about Earthling pregnancies, but he knew what contractions were. He nodded and let go of her so that he could situate himself at the end of the bed. “Put your legs up on my shoulders,” he instructed. “Let me help you. It should not take long.”
Celeste breathed in and out. “This better not take long!” she snapped at him. Why was it that making a baby was so, so pleasant but having one was the complete opposite? Science just was not fair.
Zephyr smirked a bit, but he knew that it was not an enjoyable time for her so he kept his smiling to a minimum, which she appreciated. When he saw that she was dilated, he looked up at her face. “Push,” he urged her gently.
It hurt so much that all she wanted to do was push until it stopped hurting. But in the end, she paced herself and let Zephyr give her the command to push when she was supposed to and relax when she needed to. After several long, excruciating hours, Zephyr was holding their small, light-blue skinned son in his arms. He was crying and Zephyr was crying and Celeste was crying, too. It was equal parts wonderful, exhausting and daunting for all three of them.
Their son looked like a perfect mixture of his parents. Aside from the robin’s egg blue hue of his skin, which clearly came from his father, he had Celeste’s auburn hair and large, inquisitive eyes. Celeste wasn’t sure how well he was going to fit into society on Earth, but then he was going to be a being with two planets. And as Zephyr was so set on the idea of staying with her, their son would have his weird, alien father with him to fend off any bullies, at least.
She smiled at Zephyr. He smiled back at her.
“What do you want to name him?” he asked her. “You’re probably better at that sort of thing than I am.”
“Zenith,” she said with no hesitation. She had been considering names ever since she found out she was pregnant. “I figure it would be good to start him off at a high point, at least.”
Zephyr chuckled. “I like it,” he said. He hugged her and gently petted his tiny son’s head. They made a cute family already.
“Let’s take him home,” Celeste said then. “I cannot wait to introduce him to my planet and my people.”
Preview of Daddy Wolf: Silver Wolves MC
Amanda caught sight of him the moment he entered the bar. He wasn’t one of the usuals, and he certainly didn’t look like one either. Threads of gray weaved through his dark hair and most of his beard. He had a weathered demeanor, that only made him more appealing. He had to be at least ten, maybe even fifteen years older than her.
She scanned his biker gear as he made his way toward the bar. Black riding boots, leather jacket, worn jeans, and a t-shirt that read “Bad Samaritan” made up his ensemble. A few of the regulars took note of him, especially the women, as he walked through the place. He was more than a little out of place in a sea of local office types having a quick drink between the end of their work day and their retreat home.
“What can I get for you?” she asked.
There was a mischief in his eyes as he spoke.
“A shot of Jack and whatever you have on tap will do me.”
“Guinness, Blue Moon, Bud or Bud Light,” she replied.
“All shit. I’ll take the Guinness, I guess.”
Amanda nodded and poured him a shot before heading over to pull a pint of beer from the tap, making polite conversation that might have been tipped with just a hint of curiosity.
“I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Nope.”
He wasn’t the talkative type as he offered up nothing further. Instead, he knocked back the shot and took a drink of the beer before ordering another shot. There was no conversation to be had between the two of them other than his ordering more shots and another beer. He seemed unaffected despite the amount of alcohol consumed as he eventually settled his tab and walked out. Amanda realized she knew nothing more about him when he left than she had when he came in and, much to her surprise, found that she would like to.
It wasn’t often that a man garnered much attention from her. Many of the regulars usually hit on her, but she had no interest in any of them. She was well aware that she was attractive, though not at all conceited about it. Most women would consider it good fortune to have been graced with her good looks, but it was a curse, as far as she was concerned.
She brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, and let her blue eyes scan the space. She felt like an All-American girl—looked like one—and that is precisely how she was treated. No one cared if she had a brain or any inclination to use it. Instead, they saw her as an object to be possessed. Men grabbed her thick waist and groped her lean legs. She rolled her eyes. Men only saw fit to dangle her on their arm as a point of envy for other men. Women saw her as a threat. She was neither.
It hadn’t been so long ago that she had thought it in her best interest to settle down. She was, after all, twenty-eight and still single. Carson Sims had been in her life for two years and was eager to marry her. It was no secret that he was ambitious and power hungry. That had been just fine with her for him to be driven. She had been just as keen to make a name for herself in the world of art acquisition. It had been after a particularly difficult day with a local curator that a conversation had shed a frightening light on what she was signing up for if she married Carson.
“I don’t know why you don’t just leave that job. You’re not going to need it once we are married,” he had told her.
Amanda had stopped in the middle of preparing their dinner and looked at him, studying his face carefully. He didn’t seem to think anything of what he had just said.
“I may not need the job, but I’m hardly one to sit at home and let you take care of me. I might complain, but I love my job and want to take it as far as I can. Someday, I’d like to own my own import-export business.”
“Then I’ll buy you one. I’m already doing quite well for myself and will only become more successful as time passes. We can buy you a business, and you can hire people to run it, so you aren’t tied up there all the time.”
“Why wouldn’t I just run it myself? It is, after all, what I want to do. Why would I pass it off to paid strangers?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Amanda. You’ll have your hands full here quickly enough.”
“With what?”
“Do you think running a household is easy? This is a huge house I’ve purchased for us to live in once we’re married. You can spend your time redecorating however you choose, cooking, reading...I’m sure you’ll want to hire the cleaning out eventually. I mean, I know you pretty much do it now, but once we have children, you’ll be even busier with them.”
Children?
“We haven’t even discussed children,” she replied.
Amanda could feel her anger rising. She had always known that Carson was traditional when it came to his idea of marriage, but she had no idea that he expected her to be a stay at home mother. What about her own ambitions? Was she not entitled to pursue a career just as he was?
“What’s to discuss? I thought you wanted children?”
“I don’t know if I do or not. Even if I do, it won’t be anytime soon.”
“Amanda, you are not getting any younger. Surely you don’t want to be one of those women who is middle-aged and pregnant?”
“I don’t know if I want to be pregnant at all!”
“Look, you seem agitated, and I have work to do. You need to sort yourself out and be reasonable. We’ll talk about it again some other time.”
Amanda stared at him wordlessly as he got up and made his way to his office down the hallway. Shaking herself free of her momentary paralysis, she looked around the kitchen. It dawned on her that this was meant to be a prison sentence, not a marriage. How had she missed that little fact?
That had been only a few months ago. She had packed her bags the following day while he was at work and left, leaving only a note with her engagement ring to hold it down on the kitchen table. She had intended to find a place of her own and just continue with her life without him in it, but things had gotten ugly quickly. Repeated incidents later, one of which was in direct violation of a subsequent restraining order, and Amanda had run even further away, giving up everything for a bit of peace of mind.
It had only been after her head had cleared a bit that she had realized that her reason for running went far beyond just not wanting to be a housewife and mother. She had been afraid of commitment, giving up her freedom. It had seemed manageable when Carson had proposed to her, but when he had begun talking about her becoming a homebody and a mother, it had gotten to her. That was the real reason she had left him.
Of course, she didn’t regret it. After seeing how he had reacted, how he had come after her, she could make certain assumptions. Would he have been that abusive in their marriage? Would it have just been verballing or would it have crossed the threshold to physical violence? He had shown signs of that during the stalking that had taken place, shoving her against a wall and pinning her there to force her to listen to his angry tirade. She had been frightened and greatly relieved when a local had forced him to release her and escorted her to her car safely.
So, she had ended up here, in a small town in the middle of nowhere. Rio Lobo wasn’t exactly the sort of place you’d find on any map. In fact, she hadn’t seen it on hers. Instead, she had wandered off course, ended up here by mistake and decided to stay. It was an old town, full of superstition and ancient lore, but it was her home now. If she missed anything about her past life, it was her budding career. Perhaps one day, she could pursue her dreams once again. Until then, she would continue to lay low and live the simple life she had come to embrace.
Chapter 2
“It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”
Amanda sprang up from where she sat, not expecting anyone to be out along the falls. She often walked along the wooded path that opened along one side of the river, and ended where it crossed the top of the massive waterfall at the top of the lake it flowed into. From there, it dropped severely, crashing against the rocks that littered the stream below.
The sound of the rushing water is what had hidden his footsteps on the fall leaves behind her. She stood facing him, recognizing him instantly from the bar. Her heart pounded in her chest. What was he doing here? The idea that he might have been following her frightened her, as she had not seen him since last night.
“What are you doing here?” she asked, forgetting all sense of civility.
“I come here all the time. What are you doing here?” he asked.
“I’ve never seen you.”
“I’ve never seen you, either,” he pointed out.
“Fair enough. I’ll let you get on with things then,” she replied.
Amanda pulled her jacket around her a little tighter and began to walk away. She wasn’t thrilled about being so far out with no one around if things went sideways. She had only taken a few steps when he called out to her.
“You forgot something.”
Amanda turned to look at him. He was holding up the book she had left lying on the ground beside her. She had been intent upon reading for a while but had gotten lost in thought instead. A part of her told her to run, but something about him drew her back. She slowly made her way over to where he stood and reached for the book, but he snatched it away. Amanda’s heart beat wildly in her chest.
“I’ll trade it to you for your name.”
“Amanda Miller.”
It was all she could muster. She hadn’t been this frightened since the encounter with Carson in the alley before she had left. It had been the final straw that sent her in flight toward safety. Now, here she was on the edge of a waterfall with no one around except a biker who towered menacingly over her.
“Amanda. Very good. I’m Aspen. Aspen Lowery.”
“May I have my book now?”
Amanda felt no easier knowing his name. For all she knew, it wasn’t even his real name. All she really wanted to do was get as far away from here as possible. Though she still felt an attraction to him, she also sensed that he was a serious source of danger. The last thing she needed was to get mixed up with some sort of bad boy biker type.
“You may. Do you work tonight?”
“Yes,” she said tentatively, knowing she would only look foolish if she said no and then he came by to find her behind the bar.
“Then I will see you tonight when you aren’t terrified of being alone by the woods with a big bad biker type.”
Amanda tried to disguise the astonished look on her face as he handed back her book with a massive grin on his face. Could he really have known what she was thinking or was it just a good guess? Either way, it was quite unnerving. She took the book and made a hasty retreat, once again. There was no hesitation on her part until she made it clear of the woods and back to her car, hurriedly climbing inside and locking the doors before starting it up and heading toward home.
By the time work rolled around, she was fraught with anxiety. A part of her was excited at the prospect of seeing him again, but she was also nervous. It was far too soon to even consider a relationship with someone new. She wasn’t ready. It was settled, as far as she was concerned. When he came in, she would be polite, but not inviting. She’d keep him at a distance, and he would lose interest in favor of someone not quite so difficult to get to know.
The moment he walked into the room, her thoughts took on an entirely new tone. He strolled toward her wearing stone washed jeans, a crisp blue and white striped button-down, black leather jacket and polished boots. There was a smile on his face as he sat down on a stool in fro
nt of her at the bar. He looked positively fuckable. There was just no other way to say it and, for the first time, it occurred to Amanda that she could do just that. There didn’t need to be a relationship for her to get laid.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Absolutely fine. Why?”
“You just seem a bit flushed is all.”
“Just a bit warm in here tonight.”
“Ah, didn’t notice. Much cooler outside on the bike.”
“You seem a bit more dressed up than when you were out riding yesterday,” she observed.
“I guess I am. I was hoping I might have a date later.”
“Hoping?”
Amanda felt a bit dejected. She had considered that he might be a bit more dressed up to impress her, but it was an effort for someone else, it seemed. The momentary heat she had felt at the thought of letting her inhibitions go and spending a hot night with a stranger was dashed.
“We’ll see.”
“What will it be then?” she asked.
“Ginger ale,” he replied.
“Ginger ale? Really? You do know this is a bar?”
“You do serve soft drinks, don’t you?”
“Well, yeah, but usually with alcohol in them.”
“I’m driving. Can’t drink.”
“Weren’t you driving last night when you downed all that Jack and Guinness?”
“Nope. I was riding.”
“Riding? You came in alone.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t have to drive home.”
Amanda looked at him curiously. She hadn’t seen him leave with anyone and if he had come alone, how had he gotten here? She wasn’t sure what she found more curious, these unanswered questions or why she wanted answers to them. The man’s interests obviously lay elsewhere. He had a date later - “maybe” - and it wasn’t with her. The meeting at the falls had just been a coincidence and he was only here killing time waiting for someone to join him. She would guess that it was the same person as from last night.
“So, about that ginger ale,” he said, jarring her from her thoughts.