20 Shades of Shifters: A Paranormal Romance Collection

by Demelza Carlton

  The exiled princess screamed, clawing at the dirt in front of her. Struggling, she attempted to rise again, this time angling herself enough to identify the attacking creature as a large cat. A mountain lion, she guessed, who must have jumped from one of the overreaching trees. She tried to scramble back, but the lion was again on her, teeth sinking into her left arm. Her dragon surged forth as she screamed again, but the transformation would come too late as claws dug into her hips, drawing arterial blood.

  Unable, or unwilling, to struggle through this new kind of pain, Amelia collapsed. In terror, she watched as the lethal cat stalked closer, baring its teeth, this time focused on her exposed neck. A kill strike.

  Inside her, the dragon roared, scales emerging with their familiar burning itch.

  The cat did not pause to wonder at this strange transformation, instead focused on lowering its head for a better angle on her throat.

  In contrast to her dragon’s defiance, for Amelia, an understanding of death dawned. She closed her eyes, hoping the bite would be less painful if she simply accepted her fate.

  Another roar filled the air, reverberating in her ears. A deep-throated bellow louder than any cat could ever make.

  At the sound, the mountain lion turned.

  With a second roar, the creature appeared, a shadow swallowing the ground.

  The cat backed away from Amelia, before turning to run toward the woods.

  Blood pouring from multiple injuries, the princess tried to rise, to meet this new threat, but groaned in pain as she attempted to use damaged muscles. The gash on her arm was deep, and the pain in her lower back made her wonder if the claws had reached through to her spine.

  The second dragon circled, but Amelia closed her eyes. As in her recurring dream, she lay perfectly still, unable to do more than breathe as the creature circled above.

  When the dragon landed nearby, the ground shook.

  Gritting her teeth, Amelia managed to turn enough to witness the form of a man appearing from beneath the dragon’s bulk.

  Tall, and well built, the man finished his transformation before approaching, unbothered by his own nudity, or hers.

  Amelia’s heart pounded, both from pain and fear. “Please,” she whispered, as he reached her side. Her first spoken words in months, since her last village visit. “Don’t hurt me.”

  “I’m here to help,” he promised, kneeling in the dirt to examine her injuries.

  Long gouges marred her back, flesh skewered on either side of the deep cuts by the cat’s curved claws. The wound was ugly, but the deep puncture on her hip, and the ragged gash in her arm, concerned him more.

  Scanning the riverbank, he spied Amelia’s sparse clothing, and walked over to grab her tunic. “I have to bind your arm.”

  He took the garment and, with brute force, tore the soft hide into long, uneven strips before proceeding to tie pieces around her arm.

  She screamed as he tightened the crude bandage, torn flesh protesting at being forced back together.

  “Sorry,” he offered with real regret. “You’re going to be in pain for a while.”

  “Will I…”

  “You’re lucky to be a shifter. We’re harder to kill than most, though I must say the cat made a good effort.”

  “I don’t…”

  “You’ll recover,” he assured. “But it will be a painful few days.”

  “Who are you?”

  “A passerby.”

  “There are no other dragons in these mountains.”

  Without answering, he pressed a second piece of hide against Amelia’s hip.

  She yelped at the unexpected pressure, head pounding from the pain.

  Noting the tremors, the man offered, “I have a cabin not far from here.”

  Amelia shook her head, protesting even as the man gathered her in his arms. “You can’t carry me.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re naked.”

  The man shrugged. “So are you.”

  Realizing he was right, a blush rose to Amelia’s cheeks, which only deepened as he lifted her higher.

  With his first step, she cried out in pain at the jarring motion.

  “I’m sorry. Your injuries are quite severe. Though they will fully heal, they must be treated in order to so. Please, allow me to take you to my cabin where I have supplies, including food, and clothes as well.”

  Questions filled Amelia’s mind. Who was this man? How did he find me?

  As more blood oozed from her injuries, the task of focusing on even these simple thoughts grew exhausting.

  Closing her eyes against the throbbing pain, Amelia attempted to relax against his chest, wincing as each step brought a fresh spasm of pain.

  Seeming to understand, the man walked at a slow, even pace. At that rate, it took over an hour to reach the cabin, but when he eventually did, he took her directly to a side bedroom.

  Though quaint, the room was warm, and the bed on which she had been deposited was the softest surface she had lain on in over five years.

  Lying on her stomach, Amelia remained still under the blanket he’d draped over her.

  When her rescuer returned, wearing a pair of black trousers but no shirt, he placed a leather flask to her lips. “Here. Drink.”

  “What is it?”

  “To help with the pain.”

  Complying, Amelia took a deep gulp of the foul liquid, which burned going down her parched throat. Gagging, she attempted to hand the flask back.

  “Drink more,” he advised. “All of it, if you can. It tastes like paint thinner, but trust me, it will help with the next part.”

  Holding her breath, Amelia forced herself to do as he’d asked, draining the bitter liquid before handing the empty container back.

  With efficient motions, tempered by a degree of care, he meticulously cleaned each wound, and applied medicine to her injuries, the stinging ointment causing her to writhe. Finally, fresh bandages were applied, complete with globs of more salve.

  He moved to her arm, maneuvering her shoulder to check the severity of the injury. “I think it’s fractured. I ought to splint it, just in case, to be sure it heals cleanly.”

  The man left the room again and came back with a narrow wooden plank. When he moved her arm into proper position, tears filled her eyes. With sympathy, he explained, “I’ll need both of my hands to tie this, but you can grab my upper arm if it would help.”

  Amelia shook her head, instead lacing the fingers of her opposite arm into the bedding.

  “Sorry,” he apologized again, when he’d finished. “I don’t want to risk anything healing incorrectly. Fixing it would require re-breaking the arm, and that would be even more painful.”

  Amelia nodded, confused by the day’s strange turn of events, and exhausted from the prolonged ordeal.

  Her trembling grew worse as he lifted her higher into the pillows, helping her find a semi-comfortable position, before placing several layers of pelts around her for warmth, careful to avoid pressing on her bandages.

  As he moved her, Amelia caught the man’s gaze. Lilac eyes, as pale as her blue were deep, stared back. She studied him: the familiar high, pale cheekbones, short brown hair. She searched her memory, her mind focusing on his eyes.

  “You carried me from the storm.”

  At her words, he turned, ripping his eyes from her inspection.

  “You brought me in from the cold. Told me to ask the dragon for calm.”

  With a deep breath, the man turned back and nodded. “At your service, my lady.”

  “Who are you? Chris said you lived outside the village.”

  “I have lived all over these mountains. They, more than any particular place within them, are my home.”

  “You’re a child blessed by Kamar, like me.”

  “Yes, though I’m uncertain if I would call this particular gift a blessing.”

  “Of course it’s a blessing. We are children of Kamar. Chosen to carry on our ancient lines.”

&
nbsp; “Sounds like temple garbage.”

  “I am not from the temples,” she snapped, voice cross even laced with exhaustion. “Don’t compare me to those monsters.”

  Amelia’s words brought both to silence.

  “Fair enough,” the man nodded, truce restored. “My name is Conner, by the way.”

  “Elizabeth,” she gave her middle name out of habit.

  “Well, Elizabeth, I suggest you get some rest.”

  “Wait. I don’t understand what you’re doing here. How you found me.”

  “I’ll answer what questions I can in the morning. For now, rest. I’ll be in the alcove across the way.”

  Chapter 32

  Conner lay upon the narrow bed that was more of a shelf, really, but sleep remained elusive. The girl was sure to have questions, and as he stared blankly at the ceiling above, he realized he could no more answer her inquiries than he could his own.

  Though his mother had asked him to watch the girl, he had done so sporadically, and from afar, primarily observing she spent an abundance of time in dragon form. He had considered warning her of the dangers in allowing the dragon such a great amount of control, but decided against doing so. Better if she came to the realization on her own.

  Now, having seen her wildness, he realized his error and experienced a deep-seated regret for not attempting to give her warning. Though why he carried so much responsibility for the girl, he knew naught.

  Awoken the previous morning by an intense drive, his normally dormant dragon stirred with an urgent aggression that Conner had rarely experienced. He had attempted to sate the beast with practiced calming techniques, but even in his most relaxed state, the dragon had roared, demanding freedom.

  Eventually giving in, Conner had transformed, his dragon taking control of their flight, heading toward the east mountains. They had flown with a fierce determination, in a line straight for the young woman, as though the dragon had been aware of her plight. But how his dragon would have known this, Conner could not begin to explain.

  Coincidence? he wondered, then dismissed the thought.

  Somehow his dragon had known the girl was in trouble and had, in desperation, come to her aide. There was no doubt about this. But how? And who was she?

  He had been told by the villagers that her dragon was an unusual blue. A color generally reserved for those kissed by moonlight. A rarity among the Kalleen dragons.

  Turning to find a more comfortable position, Conner closed his eyes, struggling to calm himself enough for sleep to come. Normally shifting left him exhausted, but tonight his blood hummed with vigorous energy, senses attuned to every sound of the old cabin, which had once belonged to his paternal grandmother.

  After a while, he gave up. Walking to the kitchen, he added wood to the stove and began to assemble breakfast, grilling thick pieces of meat, and frying some eggs he had found in a nearby nest. Ensuring everything was cooked as well as could be without being burnt, Conner shuffled the meal onto two plates, left them on the table, and went to check on his charge.

  Initially, he thought the girl still asleep, but her eyes opened at his footsteps across the wooden floor. She blinked, revealing her green, elongated pupils, the glance shooting another pang of guilt through him, though again, he did not understand why.

  Pushing back his thoughts, he forced a slight smile. “Would you like breakfast?”

  Amelia stared, wondering if she should refuse further aid, yet the rumble of her stomach announced otherwise. Slightly embarrassed by the sound, Amelia nodded. “Breakfast would be much appreciated.”

  Conner watched as Amelia struggled to her feet. “Why don’t you let me bring the food in here? The less you move, the lower the chance of reopening your injuries.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, the sharp pain in her hip, from the simple movement of her leg, enough to make her fall back in the bed.

  “I have some clothes for you as well. They’ll probably be too large, but not so big you can’t wear them.” He walked to the closet and pulled out a simple, faded blue cotton dress. “Belonged to my grandmother, so not quite in style, but…”

  “Thank you,” she replied as he placed the garment on the bed beside her.

  “Think you can get into it by yourself? We could just tuck the covers around you for now.”

  “I’ll manage,” she answered, watching as he left the room to retrieve the promised breakfast, closing the door behind him.

  Throwing back the pelts, Amelia grasped the thin material and pulled it over her head, biting back a groan as she had to lift her leg to slide the material under it. Because of its large size, as Conner had predicted, she didn’t have to fiddle with any of the buttons.

  A knock at the door alerted her to the return of her mysterious rescuer.

  After arranging herself as best she could, thanks to the sore hip, she beckoned, “Come in.”

  The door opened at her invitation, Conner reappearing with the eggs and meat, whose smell had lured her from slumber.

  Pulling herself higher, Amelia pushed her back to the wall behind the bed, grateful for the support as Conner handed her the plate.

  “Not the fanciest,” he said, “but it should be filling at least.”

  “Looks wonderful. Thank you. It’s been a long time since someone cooked for me.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  Starving, Amelia devoured her first bites, the red meat juicy, seasoned with a generous portion of salt and pepper.

  Conner moved to leave when Amelia said, “Thank you, as well.”

  “You’ve already said—”

  “For saving my life.”

  Meeting her reptilian gaze, Conner nodded, a solemn movement, his lilac eyes studying her.

  The plain garment served to underscore her extraordinary beauty, from lush gold locks, to her nearly flawless skin; only the unusual dark imprint along her left shoulder disrupted her smooth complexion. But even this flaw failed to mar her beauty, instead adding to it, the patterned markings appearing in the likeness of an exotic tattoo. Starting at her shoulder, the textured lines ran up the side of her neck, creating a cluster of diamond shaped rows. With a start, Conner realized that not only had her eyes been affected by her extended use of dragon form, but her skin also bore permanent evidence of her inner beast.

  “Are you all right?” Amelia asked. Self-consciously, her hand moved to her neck where the pattern lay. “The skin grew rough a few months ago. Doesn’t hurt but…I imagine it doesn’t look pretty.” Amelia shook her head. “Who are you? How did you find me?”

  Conner stepped closer, keeping his eyes on hers, his dragon pacing beneath the surface of his skin in response to her challenge. “I didn’t find you, my lady.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t. My dragon did.”

  “Your dragon?”

  Conner nodded. “He knew you were in trouble, and where to find you. I wish I could tell you how, but I can’t.”

  Her eyes went wide, pupils becoming more circular, specks of blue showing, but they did not transform back to the blue of the first time he had seen her.

  “Please don’t be afraid, my lady. I mean you no harm, nor does my dragon.”

  Protect, the dragon’s vow reached Conner alone. Save girl.

  Jarred by the normally dormant voice, Conner attempted to step away from the girl, but found himself unable to do so. By compulsion, he knelt to the floor. “I promise,” he spoke unplanned words, “I will never harm you, my lady.”

  “Bold assurances from a stranger.”

  “Perhaps.” Conner shook himself, spell broken by sheer will. Standing, he said, “I only wish for you to know you have nothing to fear from me, my lady. I’ll return after you’ve eaten to redress your injuries.”

  He hurried from the small room, as confused by his words as the girl whom, he was certain, they had failed to assure.

  Chapter 33

  After dozing sporadically over the following days, Amelia felt more like herself. The
cuts on her back were nearly healed, and the one on her hip had reduced to a dull throb. Only her arm remained painful, the fracture proving more difficult to mend than expected.

  Conner would apologize frequently as he was forced to check the injury, shaking his head as it had not reknit the way he had hoped. “You shouldn’t shift until it’s better,” he had informed her. “Doing so might cause further damage.”

  With her physical progress, she had moved from the bed to a nearby chair, and was staring out the window when Conner entered through her open doorway.

  “I was wondering if you’d like dinner?”

  She nodded, with an appreciative smile.

  “Shall I bring it to you?”

  “Would it be possible to eat outside?”

  “Of course! It’d be nice to get some fresh air, and I’m sure you could stand for some as well after these past few days.”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Amelia stood, but too fast, her tender leg failing to support her weight.

  Conner caught her as she collapsed, sliding an arm around her back, before pulling her against his chest in an attempt to steady her, and take the weight off the sore joint.

  Her hand reflexively grabbed his upper arm, her slender fingers unable to fully wrap around the well-developed muscles underneath.

  Heat rushing to her cheeks, Amelia met his eyes. “Perhaps I’ll have supper in the room after all.”

  “Nonsense,” he replied, bending to wrap his arms under her legs. Effortlessly, Conner gathered her into his embrace, cradling her to his chest as he carried her from the room.

  “This isn’t necessary.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “I can—”

  “Put your arms around my neck so I don’t drop you.”

  Her cheeks grew warmer as she complied, and he shifted his load, allowing him to better hold her as they transitioned from the bedroom to the cabin’s back deck. Held close, she breathed him in, liking his fresh cedar scent, with a hint of citrus from the soap he used, blended with the smoky aroma of his dragon. A comforting mixture, she was surprised to find she liked the sense of safety that came with being enveloped in his strong arms.