Highland Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set

by Unknown

  “Uh huh,” she answered in a raspy tone.

  “How about this?” He turned her to face him and moved his lips along her jawline, leaving a scorching path on her skin. When he reached her mouth, he hovered before her, his warm breath driving her insane with anticipation.

  “Yes,” she said between rising pants.

  His lips covered hers, devouring them with a savage possession. He grasped the back of her head as his tongue plunged in, demanding more. Fire roiled through her veins, making her surprised she could still stand. With his other hand at her lower back, he held her close, supporting her unsteady legs, eliminating the space between them. Her body burned at each spot that touched him, lips on lips, chest to breasts, and iron-hard steel to smooth satin.

  “We shouldn’t do this,” he said. “We are forbidden.”

  His actions defied his words as one of his hands covered her breast, molding it, making her nipple tingle with awareness. He reached under her shirt and found the sensitive skin, rubbing her nipples into achingly-hard peaks. She wanted more of him. More of his lips, his hands, his cock. Kayla wanted all of him. She ran her hands over the hard planes of his chest, the taut muscles of his biceps, around his tight rounded buttocks.

  “I know. But it hasn’t stopped me from coming to you,” Kayla said through hitched breaths. “And you’re here with me.”

  He growled with an animalistic sound, and pulled up her shirt. “Are you as conflicted as I?” When his mouth covered her nipple, she sighed, arching to grant him more access.

  “Yes.” It came out almost a whimper. “But I want this.”

  He alternated between teasing and flicking each nipple and sucking each breast with slow deliberate precision until she thought she’d melt.

  A howl pierced the silent night, and they both froze. When several more howls followed, Mason stood.

  She adjusted her blouse with frustration in her lust-filled haze. “Can you tell what their different howls mean?”

  “No,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t like it, though.”

  “They sound urgent. Almost frantic.”

  “I know.” He faced her. “You should go home.”

  She exhaled, but didn’t argue. “All right.” She kissed him again before trekking back to the moors on heavy feet.

  He accompanied her until they reached the copse then cupped her face. “Don’t come to the show tomorrow.”

  “But—”

  “I don’t want you walking alone with the wolves sounding that way. I’ll meet you here after the show.”

  The bloody wolves were interfering with her nightly escapes. Not only would she miss the shows she loved to attend, she’d have to wait even longer to see Mason. “All right.”

  He kissed her hand. “Be safe.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Kayla slept in, waking up to her mother rousing her in the tree house.

  “You’re usually the first one up. But lately you’ve slept the latest. What’s going on?”

  “I’ve had trouble sleeping,” she lied, rubbing her eyes.

  “Have you brewed a potion to help?”

  “No. Maybe I should.” Kayla scurried from her mother’s watchful eyes. “I’m going to get some herbs to make tea.”

  The hours until evening dragged. She spent the afternoon in the gardens. Red and blue dragonflies skittered through the herbs as she pulled weeds. She went for a swim in the heat of midday to cool off and kill time.

  Night finally arrived and she waited for Mason in the copse. When he strode over, her skin tingled with anticipation. He was coming to meet her.

  They walked hand-in-hand across the moors before he put an arm out, stopping her. “Wolves.”

  She turned north. A trio of gray and black wolves watched them, but remained still.

  “I saw one here yesterday. On the way to see you.”

  He nodded, keeping his eyes on the wolves. They scampered away. Her uneasiness dissipated as Mason rubbed her hand with his thumb, continuing their walk. They both snuck glances to where the wolves had been.

  Several minutes later, Kayla stopped. “Wait, there’s a man coming.”

  A bare-chested man who wore a red kilt approached. He had gray streaks in his black hair.

  “I’m Ian.” He bent his head in greeting. “The alpha from the Caledonia wolves.”

  Mason stepped in front of her in a protective manner. “Mason.” He nodded his head.

  “A gargoyle and a tree witch. When did the barriers break down between your clans?”

  “They haven’t,” Mason said.

  “Yet you meet?” Ian’s eyes gauged them both.

  “We see no reason to live in separate territories,” Kayla explained, stepping next to Mason. “I’m Kayla.”

  Ian bowed slightly. “That’s why I’m here. The divisions are devastating to us all.”

  “How so?” Mason asked.

  “There’s been increasing problems with us not joining magic. Not only have we lost the cloak on the island, but it’s affecting us in drastic ways.”

  “In what ways?” Kayla asked.

  “We’re shifters and we can switch from man to wolf at will, but the pull of the moon affects us. The cloak helped us reduce the impact of the moon on us. And in the past, tree witches from your coven have given us potions to help us maintain self-control so we can continue living as we have. Since the division and the dissipation of the cloak, the moon’s effect on us has increased. The younger wolves are affected the most. Their self-control is being challenged, stretched to a point we fear may be too far.”

  “What will happen if they lose control?” Kayla nervously fiddled with a protective amulet her mother had given her as her anxiety rose.

  “They may attack others. A predatory drive takes over and they become more animal than human.”

  “Why are you telling us this?” Mason asked. “You have no reason to trust us with your vulnerabilities.”

  “Because we need your help. We’ve watched you two meet. Since you’ve both taken a step to breach the divisions, we decided to approach you.”

  “What kind of help?”

  “Convince your clans to come together. We need to join our magic to restore the cloak.” He turned to Kayla. “See if you can get your coven to make the potion so we can give it to our youngest and most vulnerable wolves.”

  Kayla glanced at Mason and then nodded. “We’ll see what we can do.”

  * * * * *

  “What are we going to do about this?” Kayla asked once they were alone in the moors.

  “It’s up to us to do something,” he said, his face stoic. “We’ve been presented with this issue and it’s up us to make it right.”

  His expression hardened, jaw jutted out, reflected his steely resolve. She admired his bravery and sense of justice. How could he be the horrible creature the tree witches had described?

  “Let’s get away. We need to be able to think.”

  “Where will we go?” She searched the island. “Only so many places to hide on an island with divided territories.”

  “Exactly what I mean. Let’s leave the isle.”

  Her eyes widened. “Leave the island? I’ve spent my whole life here.”

  “And when we first spoke, you were fascinated with the places I’d been. Let me take you to them.”

  Her body hummed with the thrill, her brain with the uncertainty. “But where?” She rubbed her temple. “And how?”

  “We’ll fly.”

  “There’s only one problem. I can’t fly.”

  “So you’re going to hold on tight.”

  “Where will we go?”

  He searched across the moors. “The Highlands. Where my clan originated. They’ve returned there after humans came to the island. Only I and my brothers remain.”

  “The Highlands?” Her mouth dropped. “On the mainland.”

  “It’s a beautiful land. One place I find peace. Strange, considering all the blood that’s been shed there ove
r the centuries.”

  “I imagine it comforts you knowing it’s where your ancestors lived.”

  He nodded slowly. “Perhaps.” Extending an arm to her, he asked, “Will you come?”

  As much as she fantasized about visiting other lands, she never thought she’d do so flying in a gargoyle’s arms. After a moment of trepidation, she took his arm and smiled. “Don’t let me go.”

  “Never,” he promised.

  He wrapped both arms around her and she squeezed around his waist. When her feet lifted off the ground, she gripped him more tightly.

  He laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

  Her entire body tensed as they shot several feet in the air. “It’s kind of scary,” she admitted. I’ve never flown before.”

  “You have nothing to worry about. I’ll take care of flying. You enjoy the view.”

  She closed her eyes and forced herself to breath more slowly. When she reopened them, terror welled at first when she glanced down. Then the aerial image of the island from above distracted her from her fear.

  The Isle of Stone appeared so different from this vantage point at night. A land of moors surrounded by trees. No signs of boundaries marking the territories. It was the way it should be, open and free. She searched for the tree houses, but they were eclipsed by the tops of the trees. Light flickered through the foliage, which had to be the fire at the coven’s gathering.

  If they had any idea of what she was doing right now—if her mother knew…

  She pushed the thoughts out of her mind as she enjoyed the flight. The breeze in her hair, the sense of floating among the clouds—there was no other experience to rival it. The lack of fear even though they soared above the earth surprised her. Mason wrapped her in a protective embrace. With each flap of his majestic wings, a whooshing sound whizzed by her ears. His ability to fly was remarkable. What a different world it was from above.

  She spent the rest of the flight marveling at the sights. The Highlands appeared below. Even through the darkness, she discerned the majestic peaks sloping to vast valleys. Lochs shimmered under the moonlight. They soared past the dark shapes of animals, grazing in the fields.

  “What are they?” she asked.

  “Sheep,” Mason replied. “I once heard someone describe them as floating like clouds across the hills.”

  His voice was like warm, rich caramel. “Poetic.”

  They landed on a patch of tall grasses with scarcely a thump. She circled to capture the magnificent silhouettes of the peaks around her.

  “It’s breathtaking,” she said.

  He stepped beside her and turned her way. “Aye, it’s even more beautiful by day.”

  She furrowed her brows. “I thought you slept by day.”

  “In a way,” he replied. “We typically rest in stone by day, but it’s not the way most species sleep.”

  “So you’re not strictly nocturnal?”

  He paused for a moment. “No. It’s difficult to describe, but I’ll try. When we’re in stone, we are not shut off from the outside world, which would make it more impossible to observe for danger. My brothers and I can still communicate. The sun shines on us, restoring our energy, but we’re not locked in stone, like as in a spell. We’re able to change to human form at will.”

  The idea of sleeping while awake fascinated her as much as his ability to fly and shapeshift. “That’s amazing. I’m not even sure I fully can grasp how you do it.” She pictured the first time she’d seen him shift at the concert. “But on stage you seem to come alive from the light of the moon.”

  He winked at her and grinned. “Part of what makes our shows different. We’ve learned some tricks from human rock bands.”

  She laughed. “I’ll say.”

  * * * * *

  Although the Isle of Stone was his home, Mason missed the scent of the Highlands. He often came here when he wanted to be alone, reconnect with his ancient roots. He held Kayla’s hand as they walked through the tall grasses. She spun her head often scanning the scenery by night. “It really is spectacular. Your clan is from here?”

  The awe on her face with her appreciation for his homeland delighted him. “Yes.”

  “Why would they ever leave?”

  “To find peace in a new land. Make a new start.”

  “They fought in the Highlands?”

  The sparkle in her eye distracted him from the question. He repeated it in his head and nodded. “Much gargoyle blood has tarnished this soil.”

  “And now you said they’re back?”

  Every word she spoke was melodious. Being alone with her in his sacred space filled him with a sense of completeness with a woman like he’d never experienced. How odd it was with a witch. “The arrival of the humans provided the incentive they needed to return.”

  “You didn’t go with them?”

  “My four brothers and I are the only ones who remain on the Isle of Stone. We grew up there and we remain there, protecting it. The opportunity to play for a human audience was not a threat to us. We enjoyed playing as ourselves, not hiding who we really are, the way we had to do when we went to play in human cities.”

  Mason took her hand in his as they traversed the inclines of the Highlands, through tall grasses and past bracken. The gentle, earthy scent of heather greeted him, a different variety than that which grew on the Isle of Stone, and one that refreshed him in a way that nothing else could.

  Except being near Kayla.

  A worry line appeared between her brows and he had an urge to ease her discomfort. “What can we do about the situation with the wolves?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it on the flight here. When we return to the Isle of Stone, we need to talk to our clans.”

  “Convince them it’s time to work together.”

  “Exactly.”

  “What about the gargoyles here? Are you going to talk to them?”

  He shook his head. “The clan has left. My brothers and I make the decisions on how we live there now.”

  “That won’t be much of a problem, then, will it?”

  He cocked his head. “You haven’t met my brothers. We’re a bunch of stubborn and impulsive fools.” Not only did he have to convince them to work magic with the wolves, but to accept his relationship with a tree witch. If they only knew what she was like, they wouldn’t be able to resist her charm. Beyond her beauty lay her good nature. Whenever he was around her, it took all his self-control not to touch her and wrap himself in her scent. Not that he wanted any of his lust-filled brothers getting too close to his Kayla.

  His Kayla, he repeated it to himself.

  “Oh.”

  He scanned her from head to foot, feasting on her physical presence like a man starved. “I’m happy you came here with me.”

  “I’m glad you brought me.”

  He moved closer to her and her sweet fragrance greeted him. “I like us being together.” He took a step closer. “Alone.”

  His eyes dropped to her lips. They’d parted slightly. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths.

  “I like it, too.”

  He stroked her soft cheek and ran his finger over her plump bottom lip. His heart hammered in his chest. Something about being so close to her, touching her, animated a new type of energy inside him. “Stay with me awhile.”

  For a long moment, he heard nothing but the sound of their breathing. Even the sounds of the breeze rustling through the grasses of the Highlands had disappeared.

  Finally, she responded, “Aye.”

  He bent down to kiss her without any more delay, capturing her delicious mouth. For days and nights, he’d thought about much else but her. Her taste, her touch. How he wanted to bury himself deep within. The ache inside had become almost unbearable. He took her in his arms and claimed her as his own.

  * * * * *

  Kayla leaned back when he pulled down the neckline of her blouse. How was it possible to want someone this much? Whenever she left him, she thought about the next
time they’d meet. He bent down and doted each breast with patient attention. Soft kisses and gentle caressing moved to playful biting before devouring each in his hot mouth.

  Mason put her feet on the ground and lifted one of her legs up. She hitched it around his hip and held on to him. He reached under her long black skirt, grasping her panties. He ripped them off, the sound of tearing fabric sounded magnified in the quiet of night. She gasped; the sudden removal of the thin barrier left her vulnerable. When his gentle fingers massaged her slickened folds, she relaxed.

  “You’re so warm.” He inserted a thick finger inside her smooth flesh. “So wet.”

  “I want you,” she said, her voice sounded darker than normal.

  He kissed her lips, her earlobe, and her neck while he stroked her, increasing the pressure on her sensitive nub. She bit her lip as he drove her senses reeling, no longer caring what was around them or who might catch them. Then he dipped his head, pulling her skirt up higher. His warm breath tickled her quivering pussy. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, the strands as soft as the blades of grass in the moors. He licked the length of her slit, exploring every inch of her. When his hot tongue seared her most sensitive spot, she gasped. She leaned against the tree, her moans almost purrs. He increased the pressure on her clit, seeming to know intuitively what she needed. She grabbed the tree trunk with both hands, clawing it as she braced herself for the overpowering sensation building within.

  Moans escaped her, but she no longer cared who heard. He lapped her clit with an intensity that drove her to the edge of insanity. Powerful and possessive, he controlled all her senses. When she exploded, she cried out while white lights and bright colors flashed behind her eyes.

  As she came down from the intense sensation, he removed the fabric covering him and then rubbed the head of his cock against her opening. “You are protected?”

  “Aye.”

  She drank a potion each month to avoid pregnancy, not that she’d had a lover for months after a short fling with a male witch ended. Their time together was more of satisfying curiosity and lustful cravings before it fizzled out. She didn’t have strong feelings, nothing like the commanding connection to Mason. An image flashed before her of having a child with him. What would the child of a witch and gargoyle be like?