Rookery Cove: The Keythong’s Blaze

by Emma Ray Garrett

  Rookery Cove: The Keythong’s Blaze

  Emma Ray Garrett

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright ©2006 Emma Ray Garrett

  No part of this e-book may be reproduced or shared by any electronic or mechanical means, including but not limited to printing, file copying or sharing, and email, without prior written permission from Changeling Press LLC. Willful violation of this policy will result in suspension of account privileges and will lead to prosecution.

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  ISBN (10) 1-59596-411-8

  ISBN (13) 978-1-59596-411-3

  Formats Available:

  HTML, Adobe PDF,

  MobiPocket, Microsoft Reader

  Publisher:

  Changeling Press LLC

  PO Box 1046

  Martinsburg, WV 25402-1046

  www.ChangelingPress.com

  Editor: Crystal Esau

  Cover Artist: Sinamin

  This e-book file contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language which some may find offensive and which is not appropriate for a young audience. Changeling Press E-Books are for sale to adults, only, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Prologue

  “More.”

  The hot, wet haven of his lover’s mouth drove all thought from Branimir’s mind. The erotic glide of nubile tongue from the base of his cock, up and around the crown, stuttered his breath. His lover focused his movements, pausing to undulate against the sweet spot where head met shaft. Waves of sexual delight rippled over every inch of Branimir’s body and he moaned softly.

  His head fell back and his hands thrust into thick, blond hair. Long fingers slid into familiar positions, holding the mouth suckling his thick cock exactly where the greatest satisfaction would be found. Branimir groaned and tightened his hands, hips thrusting forward until his balls rested against a smooth chin.

  I love your cock. Harsh arousal pounded through Branimir’s body and echoed in his mind, growing exponentially while the talented mouth swallowed him down. Teased him. Tortured him. Branimir felt his partner’s lust as clearly as his own. Hungry need flowed through his lover’s blood, each swipe of tongue, and graze of teeth, proof.

  The connection he and his lover shared was precious and unique, allowing them into each other’s hearts and minds. They’d been oath-bound since childhood, had loved each other as friends, and comrades, and then finally as lovers, as mates. A pang of remorse closed Branimir’s throat and burned behind his eyes, pulling him out of the pleasure and hurtling him toward dismay. He was leaving in the morning and it was quite possible this would be the last time he’d share this kind of intimacy with his beloved.

  The wet sound of his cock being released from his lover’s mouth reminded him that this time was for them. He opened his eyes and looked into a set like his own and not. The bright, hot amber of Viktor’s pupils churned with lust, and fear, and love.

  “Branimir.” Viktor’s low, raspy voice shivered up Branimir’s spine and he moaned, the barest hint of his desire in the sound.

  “I’m sorry, Viktor. I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I’m having second thoughts about Rookery Cove.” He held out his hand to Viktor and helped him rise from the floor. He looked down the strong, marred line of his partner’s nude form and felt his half-soft cock fill with blood once more.

  Viktor pressed his body to Branimir’s, the erotic friction of their cocks sliding against each other pulling a grunt from Viktor. He slid his right hand around the back of Branimir’s neck and pulled his face close. Viktor wasn’t the patient type and he took Branimir’s mouth in a harsh, almost desperate kiss. Their minds were open to each other, and Branimir was overwhelmed by the love, the hunger, the despair, pouring from Viktor. Rolled under by the onslaught, all he could do was wrap his thick arms around the heavily muscled body he loved so well and hold on.

  We’ll find a way, Viktor. I won’t give you up so easily. The rush of emotion cascading from Viktor dizzied Branimir. Then he stopped thinking about what if as Viktor’s large, rough hand wrapped around Branimir’s cock and stroked hard. His balls throbbed and pre-come wept from the tip while Viktor continued to ravage his mouth, his tongue thrusting deep, mimicking what Branimir wanted so badly.

  Gods, Viktor. I want your cock buried deep in my ass.

  Then get on the bed, Branimir.

  Chapter 1

  “I quit.” Okibi Rowe leaned against the door to Manx’s office.

  A low growl, a sound that hinted at what he was, rumbled from his chest. Manx raked a hand through his obsidian locks. “Look, Okibi, I know you’re pissed. I told Phillip not to do it, but he wants…”

  “I don’t give a fuck, Manx!” Okibi stalked further into the room and dropped into the oversized leather chair opposite Manx’s desk. “I’ve been protecting this island for the better part of a hundred years. Christ on a crutch!” She blew a breath from her pursed lips, making the spikes of her short hair dance. “Bernard, not Phillip, asked me here when he first settled this place! I don’t know who Phillip thinks he is, but he isn’t my Master. Rookery Cove is my responsibility, first and last. Perfumes for Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs are something I do for fun, end of conversation. I won’t be pressured or undermined in order for that greedy pup to get what he wants.”

  “I told Phillip it was ill advised.”

  Okibi ignored his comment and straightened in the chair. Thankfully, she’d moved past royally pissed off, otherwise the room would probably be burning now.

  She was entering her Kokugen Nenshou.

  This whole mess was tied into her reproductive cycle. If Manx hadn’t encouraged her to create a unique perfume, Need, from the pheromones she produced during this time, Okibi wouldn’t be pinned between a rock and a hard place now. What’s done is done, Okibi. Right now, you have to figure out how to keep the keythong far, far away from you.

  Okibi sighed and scrubbed her eyes with her palms.

  Going into her fertile time, when a male of one of the two species she could mate with just happened to be on Rookery Cove, was unacceptable. Since she couldn’t stop her cycle, she’d have to make sure she didn’t run into the griffon.

  Manx gave her his trademark bad-boy grin. “Bet you’re wishing we’d just kept fucking, instead of me having a moment of genius.”

  Okibi couldn’t help it. She laughed out loud. Though it had been at least sixty years since they’d been lovers, both she and Manx remained close friends and companions. “Well, it did occur to me that I oughta kick your ass for starting this whole thing. But really, though we were hot between the sheets, I’m glad you thought of it. We’re much better off as ex-lovers. Neither of us could have stood being tied to the other for long.”

  It was Manx’s turn to laugh, self-deprecating though it was. “Well, maybe it worked out for you, but I still have to deal with your pheromones every twenty years.”

  Okibi snorted. “Please! Do you think I’ve missed your orgies? Even if I could miss the ladies’ arrival, no one on the island could miss hearing their orgasmic screams!” Okibi scooted forward in the chair, finally feeling relaxed.

  They enjoyed a few minutes of quiet, before she sighed. “I’m gonna head out. Felix said the flue was getting clogged up again.”

  “I cleaned it out already.” Okibi leapt from the chair and whirled on the new voice. Her hands burst into flame and she readied herself for battle.

  “Whoa, whoa! I’m not armed.” The male threw his hands up. A small smile softly curved his mouth, though wariness showed in the rigid set of his body.
Okibi narrowed her eyes. The griffon.

  Chapter 2

  Branimir Symon took in the flame-fingered phoenix before him and his pulse kicked hard. She was as magnificent as he’d known she’d be. Okibi Rowe was the most sexually alluring woman he’d ever seen.

  Her pixie-like face, the pert nose and pointed chin spoke of her Japanese heritage. Her face appeared delicate at first glance, but after closer inspection he noticed the stubborn clench of her jaw. Okibi’s eyes were larger than he’d expected, their almond shape enhancing their size, but the obsidian color pulled him in. Her lips were dusky pink and full, too full for her face, but they begged to be kissed. Or to be wrapped around a hard cock, his sexual mind commented.

  Her jet-black hair was short and spiky, but then he hadn’t thought she’d wear it long. Branimir slowly took in the rest of her body, from the strong set of her shoulders, down over her full, pert breasts, all the way along the length of her legs. The jeans and tank she wore emphasized her femininity and her strength, displaying Okibi’s feminine musculature, her creamy skin and curves, to the fullest.

  He’d been listening to her conversation with Manx, and now, Branimir wanted to kick himself. He should have known Phillip Quinn was playing a power game with the phoenix. But honestly, when Maddox, headhunter for Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs, had approached him with a job offer, Bran had accepted, hoping at last to meet the one woman he prayed could be his queen.

  Branimir felt a spark of ire flare. He wanted to be angry with Maddox, but he was sure the Wood Elf had no more idea what was going on here than he did. The Council of Advisors hadn’t been thrilled with the idea of their king being in the employ of humans. But Branimir’s word was law and there wasn’t anything they could do to stop him. Besides, Viktor served as Regent-In-Absence and Branimir knew his lover could handle anything needing attention in Branimir’s stead.

  For years Branimir had wanted to meet the unattached phoenix. Although he’d been reluctant given what he might have to give up to have her. The Rowe line was powerful, dedicated, and highly respected and from what he knew, Okibi was even more so.

  He sighed internally and almost wished his birth had been different. If it were, he wouldn’t be here, facing a woman who’d like to set his body on fire for real, a woman who had managed to get him hard and wanting, burning for her figuratively within seconds of meeting. He wouldn’t be wondering if she’d go against the ways of her people and take two mates.

  Branimir, and Viktor, were unique among keythongs. They’d been born with wings, which had entitled them to prince-hood. The wings didn’t, however, guarantee Branimir a throne. He’d fought his way to kingship, as was the griffon way, with Viktor at his side as his friend, then bodyguard, and now as the heir presumptive.

  As a ruler, Branimir led his people into the new world of human technology and business. Now the gold and jewels the griffons had hidden away and protected for so many centuries were finally able to be used to better the race, to help protect them instead of making them a target. He was proud of what he’d accomplished, but still felt unfulfilled.

  Instinct told him it was time to mate and breed. So, he’d started looking for a match. But he’d found no excitement, no interest burning in his blood for the court females.

  Only a particular kind of woman could be the mate he needed. This mystery woman must understand what it meant to be a protector and defender. A partner whose strength and dedication would match not just Branimir’s, but Viktor’s as well. She had to be both warrior and diplomat. And she did not exist among the available, or willing, women of the court.

  “Just so you know,” the Master of the Hunt growled, “no one enters my territories without permission and an introduction.” Branimir watched, impressed, as Manx cloaked himself with shadow until all he could see of the man were his glowing red eyes.

  Branimir wasn’t about to be intimidated, but when two massive, barrel-chested beasts appeared from out of nowhere to flank him, he seriously considered throttling Phillip Quinn.

  “I’ll let it go this time. But keep in mind, my Pretties nearly dined on fur and feathers this night.” Manx gave an odd whistle and the dogs moved to his side. He moved from behind his desk to Okibi’s side, his body pressed close to hers, his mouth to her ear. When her lips lifted in a slow, seductive smile, jealousy roared through Branimir.

  A soft chuckle burst from her lush mouth as Manx stepped away. Okibi said something to him, low and intimate, but Branimir missed the words. Manx gave a slight nod and headed for the door. He smirked at Branimir as he moved past him and out of the room.

  She’s mine! Branimir couldn’t stop the thought from forming.

  Branimir looked hard at the woman who’d fascinated him. She’d be a handful, but she would make a perfect queen. He had two questions, but only one of them was of any import. Though he wondered why Quinn would have asked him against Okibi’s wishes, what he had to know was if she could love two men.

  When he caught her scent, his first question was answered. She was in heat.

  It was low, Quinn’s bringing him here purposely to fuck the phoenix, knowing that once Okibi bred, she’d be forced by natural instinct to rear her children to maturity. It all made sense now. According to his information, the female phoenix would never put the protection of an object before her own offspring. While rearing her young would take precedence over protecting the island, it would leave Okibi plenty of time for other things. Like developing profitable perfumes.

  Of course, her mate would take over Okibi’s obligations, as well as protecting her and their young with his life. Though Branimir was no phoenix, he’d be a definite asset as a sentinel of Rookery Cove. Phillip Quinn had a deft business mind, for sure, but he needed some lessons in proper etiquette.

  Even as disgust moved his conscience, his cock made a decision. Regardless of any moral argument, he’d smelled her and he had to have her. He’d deal with Quinn later. For now, one way or the other, Okibi Rowe was his. She just didn’t know it yet.

  * * *

  “Keep my office in one piece.” Manx stepped close to Okibi to whisper in her ear. “It was hard enough to create this dark and dreary decor, let alone replace priceless pieces of my art from my Fatherland.” Okibi laughed softly. She had no intention of fighting the keythong here. In fact, as long as he kept his distance, she would simply ignore him until he left.

  Okibi put on a good face for Manx. “Don’t worry, Manx. I’ve got it covered. Go, I’ll be fine.” She gave his hand a brief squeeze before he exited the room. She’d felt the call, the alarm Manx followed when the island was in jeopardy. He was off to hunt and may the gods help his quarry. No one escaped the Great Hunt, the Gabriel Ratchets.

  She watched him go, watched him smirk at the griffon, and saw the spark of jealousy flash across the shapeshifter’s face. Her body reacted with a hard surge of lust, which in turn released the intoxicating pheromones of her breeding time into the air. No, no, Okibi. Don’t do this now! She chastised herself to no avail. Her body took in the size of the griffon, his masculinity, his strength, and found nothing to reject.

  His hair was a soft brown, like dark brown sugar, slightly wavy and just a tad long. His eyes were a piercing orange, like the sun when it sets, and Slavic in shape. They were faintly upturned at the corners, a bit like her own, with thick lashes and brows that drew her eyes. His lips were thin yet kissable, and his nose and jaw were strong. An immensely masculine face, full of determination and confidence, and Okibi felt a lurch in her chest. Don’t give in, Okibi. You have free will, her hopeful side chimed in. In the back of her head, though, the bells of warning tolled, loud and deafening.

  Both of them were in their human forms, and the griffon’s was definitely appealing. He stood several inches over six feet. His chest was deep, his shoulders broad and his arms thick. He was built like a brick shithouse, with thick, ropy muscles covering long limbs, a body type Okibi found infinitely pleasing. She could see coarse dark hair peeking from the neck o
f the khaki polo shirt he wore, and as she took him in from head to toe, his reaction to her pheromones was blatant. She tore her gaze from him, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She needed to master herself.

  Wanting to avoid any contact with the griffon, Okibi turned fully toward him and reignited her hands. “We aren’t going to have any problems are we?”

  The griffon clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes, but he stepped aside. “Not while you’re a living torch, no. Look, I apologize for the unprofessional way Phillip brought me in, but I intend to stay, at least for now. It seems like you could use an extra set of hands. Can we call a truce?”

  “Just stay out of my way, Keythong.” Okibi winked at him, before allowing the dancing orange, yellow, blue, white and red tongues of flame to encompass her entire body. She was careful not to let the fire leap from her and into the room, remembering Manx’s request. The griffon backed away further. With a wide smile, Okibi left Manx’s office, feeling cocky and herself once again.

  Chapter 3

  Branimir stood aside and watched her leave, his cock screaming at him to grab her, throw her to the floor, and brand her his. His earlier assessment of “magnificent” was paltry and pitiful. She took his breath with her power, her strength, her scent. He was going to get burned, in more ways than one he feared, but still he couldn’t deny her allure.

  Shaking his head, he left Manx’s office and made his way from the security building to the outdoors. Branimir needed to familiarize himself with the island. He knew Bernard Quinn, an extremely wealthy recluse, had built the company, Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs, and named it after the island. The enterprise was unbelievably profitable, offering special sexual toys, lotions, and paraphernalia to humans and non-humans alike. The company wielded a lot of power and influence in human business, and Branimir had a few ideas regarding the griffon fortunes and Rookery Cove Aphrodisiacs.