If it hadn’t been for Daisy, she might have replaced it and stayed where she was. She was no longer soft and pretty and she was worried Graeme would reject her. Well, she could live with being rejected as long as he claimed their child.
She was quicker with the second shackle and when it fell off, she reached around and gave Daisy a big squeeze. “Let’s go on an adventure.”
***
When Eadlin walked through the door, she thought she’d died and gone to heaven. Standing before her was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. And if the prophesy held true, he would be hers for eternity.
Her stomach flip-flopped as Taite approached her. “Welcome, Eadlin.”
His deep voice sent her heart racing and she felt oddly damp between her legs. He slowly lifted his hand and gently stroked the back of his fingers down her cheek.
If she wasn’t careful, she feared he could talk her into absolutely anything. She grasped his wrist and took a step back. “Taite. I know you’ve been waiting a long time and I fully understand your impatience, but I need some time to get to know you before I can do this. Please?”
“How much time?”
***
It had been days since he had ordered Walter from the castle. So many days, Graeme suspected it might really be weeks.
The joke had been in poor taste, but he hadn’t expected the ghost to actually leave, let alone stay away so long. Graeme grudgingly admitted to himself that he actually missed the meddling little miscreant.
He’d even gone so far as to ask Martyn and Thora if they knew Walter’s whereabouts. They’d had no idea, but weren’t concerned in the slightest. “He’ll turn up when you least expect him,” they’d said.
He was just about to climb into a hot bath when Walter proved them right.
“You’d best get your clothes back on and come with me, my lord. I have a wonderful surprise for you.”
“Walter, I’m warning you. If this is another attempt to set me up with a wife, I’ll banish you from the castle for the rest of eternity.”
“Hurry. Your surprise is waiting at the front gates.”
Against his better judgement, Greymoor put his clothes back on. He would go to the gate, but he refused to hurry. He sauntered through the castle and took wicked delight in the frustration that furrowed Walter’s brow.
“You’re going to slow. Trust me, you will regret wasting so much as a second.”
He would regret nothing, and if the little toad didn’t shut up, he was going to turn around and climb into that bath.
Curiosity got the better of him, however, and he sped up to a brisk walk. Best not seem overly eager.
He was almost at the gate when he stopped short. It was her. She looked radiant. More beautiful than he remembered. “Is she a ghost, Walter?”
“No, my lord. She’s as real as you are. But tread carefully. These past years have been hard on her and she has scars—both inside and out.”
White-hot rage bubbled up in side him. “I’ll kill the bastard who hurt her.”
“Right now, my lord, she needs you to love her more than she needs you to kill for her.”
Just as he was about to go to her, a small child peeked out from behind Freya’s skirts and his rage became almost uncontrollable.
It was one thing to know she’d been raped. It was something else entirely to see the evidence standing before him. He closed his eyes and willed himself to calm down.
“Before you tie yourself in knots. The child is very much yours. There is no mistaking those Penrith eyes. Now, go to her, my lord. She’s terrified you will reject her. I’ve spent a very long journey trying to assure her that you still loved her, no matter what.”
Graeme didn’t need to be told twice. He ran to her as fast as his legs would carry him and wrapped his arms around her. “Freya, my love. It’s really you? This isn’t a dream?”
“It’s really me, but if it’s a dream, it’s the best dream I’ve had in forever.”
Graeme was reluctant to let go of Freya for fear she’d disappear, but there was a persistent tugging on his trouser leg. He pulled back a little and looked down to see Walter spoke the truth. There was no mistaking those Penrith eyes. He lifted the child into his arms and smiled wide. “Hello, my lovely. I’m your papa.”
Three Months Later
Graeme trailed his finger down Freya’s breast and circled the nipple before he placed his hot mouth over it. She arched her back as he sucked hard. She loved everything he did to her. He only ever brought her pleasure. He had been right when he said it would never hurt again. And with every thrust of his cock, she felt whole.
He released her nipple and looked deep into her eyes. “What are you thinking, my love?”
“You complete me.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Surrounded by mist-covered mountains, Sadie Haller lives a quiet life with her husband and fur-babies.
Follow Sadie Haller online at:
http://www.sadiehaller.com
ICE
By Skye Jones
Heat rating: 4 m/m/f menage
When a tough, ice-cool, cage fighter meets her match in two hot as sin dragon shifters, the sparks fly.
Ice is a tough cage fighter who has spent her life closed off and mostly alone. As a child, she experienced moments where she burned others with a mere touch. These strange experiences terrified and confused her, but she knows if she keeps her emotions under control the burning doesn’t happen. This iron self-control has made her a fearsome opponent in the ring.
When two sexy as sin strangers enter her life, telling her they can shed light on her mysterious ‘gift’, her world is turned upside down.
Nathan, leader of the Scottish dragon clan, is shocked to find Ice, a dragon female, living in the human world. Not only is she unaware of her heritage, she also is a match made in heaven for Nate and his bonded male, Dom.
When Nathan calls him to the city to meet their mate, Dominic is immediately smitten.
As Ice spends time with the two males, it becomes clear that they all share a mutual desire, but are scared to act on their deeper feelings.
Can their heady, lust-filled nights lead to a lasting commitment and happiness for the three?
Chapter One
Methodically, Ice wrapped the bandages around her hand, occasionally glancing at her reflection. The bruises from her last fight had purpled on her arms, and her cut lip puffed out.
Tonight presented her biggest challenge to date. She focused on her breath. In for three, hold for five, out for seven. Her heart rate slowed in response. Flowers stood to her right, a bright splash of color in an otherwise monochromatic room of peeling grey and white paint.
The smell of sweat mixed with body spray soothed her, the changing room odor comforting. Here, in the silence before a fight, she focused on meditation and calming breathing rituals. Out there, in the cage, she became her true self. A deadly calm fighting force others bowed before. Ice.
“Ten minutes.” The knock at her door, and the bellow of her manager focused her mind further. His Scottish accent sharpened considerably before a bout, and she always thought he must be as pumped with adrenalin as the fighters.
She’d banned him, or anyone else, from disturbing her in the hour before a fight. Other fighters wanted to be talked to, their egos bolstered, moves discussed. Not her. She wanted to find her calm center. The one she used to ground herself in the midst of the crazy rush that burst forth when she walked out into the arena. The lights blinding, music pumping, and the crowd roaring. Friday night in Glasgow, and the crowd proved more than lively.
Hands wrapped in protective tape, she flexed her fingers and shook her arms at her sides, bouncing on the balls of her feet.
She turned to her reflection once more. Gazing critically, she narrowed her eyes. A strong nose and jaw lent her a somewhat masculine appearance. She’d never been the pretty, curvy type guys went for. Still, today she looked like crap with her war wounds. Head
cocked to the side, she stuck her tongue out at her reflection and turned away.
“You can do this. You can bring the bitch down. You are a survivor, and you’ll survive the Shredder. Stay calm and lock yourself in, so you only hurt her as much as you have to.”
Tears pricked her eyes. Shit! Each time she gave herself this pep talk, she flashed back to him. The asshole who’d assaulted her. Hating the mental image of the large man looming over her as she struggled to be free, she blinked twice to dislodge the unwelcome memory. Before a fight wasn’t the time to think about him, or the things she’d done to him. Things she’d no control over and didn’t want to think about.
She’d spiraled afterwards, until the day her mum suggested self-defense classes.
Just try it, Claire. From the first class, her affinity for martial arts had shone through. Over time, she’d become Ice. All her horror at what lived inside her, what she’d done to him, she buried deep under a layer of frozen calm.
She crossed the room and carefully took the gold cross from around her neck. She placed it in a jewelry box on top of an old filing cabinet. Then she popped the box inside the second drawer and covered it with some dusty old papers. She’d hate for it to get ripped off in a fight.
With a quick one-two-punch and a bounce of her feet, she shook off her melancholy. She’d become a fighter, and she needed to live up to her warrior name. Editor of stuffy books by day, fighter by night. If things went well, she’d maybe one day make the leap to the big-money circuit, instead of the spit and sawdust amateur shows she did now.
Base boomed through the building, the music loud as the build-up to the fight started. Stomping feet accompanied the noise. Her adrenalin spiked, all her teary-eyed melancholy gone as the pre-fight rush built. Her heart pumped to the beat of hundreds of feet. Goosebumps broke out along her arms. She inserted her mouth guard and growled.
Showtime!
Nathan didn’t believe what he’d seen. Two human females knocking ten tons of hell out of one another! His people never let females do such a thing. They were too rare and precious.
He shifted in his uncomfortable seat. Bright lights flooded the arena, which along with the noise and stench made him feel sick. Gods above, he hated spending time in human company—well, except for the odd female for some fun and games. But crowds of them? He shuddered. The sounds and scents of their lives were too much for his exquisite senses to bear. Their shrill shouts and body odor were the worst. He’d only come because his financial adviser, a competent man, kept bugging Nathan to do something social with him. So far, he’d managed to avoid the opera, theatre, drinks, and a golf day. This occasion, though, he’d been caught on the hop. He’d, stupidly, admitted to staying in town for two nights to conduct business, and David had pounced. Another client had let David down and left him holding two tickets to something called a Mixed Martial Arts night. Having time to kill, and nothing better to do, he’d agreed. Only to find himself in this version of hell.
“Amazing isn’t it?” David pushed past Nathan’s knees to take his seat, plopping an overflowing plastic cup of beer in Nathan’s lap.
“It is…interesting.”
“There’s another women’s fight up next, followed by two men’s fights. Personally, I prefer the women.” He leaned close to Nathan, his breath stinking of onion crisps. “It kind of turns me on to see two fit women knock one another about.” He chuckled and swigged his beer.
Nathan hid his grimace. The man helped him grow his wealth. As leader of his clan, that mattered. It mattered a lot. When you lived for thousands of years, you needed to control enough wealth to ensure your clan’s survival. They didn’t keep it in caves as the stupid human myths said. No, they used bank vaults and clever financial types like David.
He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured his home, nestled deep in the heart of the Scottish Highlands. He’d only been gone a few hours and already he missed it. The clean air, no stinking humans and their onion crisps. No smoke from cars—they had five vehicles for the whole community and members took turns to use them. Nothing but fresh air and miles of stunning scenery. Of course, there were the fires his kind loved to light, so they did produce some smoke. Not that it mattered, they were miles away from civilization. Once they’d shifted form, they’d fly above the mountains. They’d swoop down to light the constructed pile of wood until the flames licked high into the darkening skies, before soaring high once more to watch the spectacle.
“Aaaaand now, ladies and gentleman.” The announcer broke into his reverie, grounding him back in his seat in the arena. “I’m pleased to announce a real treat for you tonight. Two of the toughest women in their class. Last year’s Lightweight champion, Theeeee Shredderrrrrrr!”
The roars from the crowd and more stomping feet were deafening. Nathan stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the dramatic way the announcer stretched every other word.
“Facing her, and a sure contender for this year’s Championship, we have the amaaaaaazing Ice!”
A louder roar greeted this announcement.
“Oooh, the Shredder is hot.” David shouted over the stomping and hollering. “Always wanted to meet her. We might be on for a backstage visit. Mate of mine knows the bouncer and put in a good word for us. I dropped the lad a couple of fifties, to try and grease the wheels as it were.”
“You paid one hundred pounds to, maybe, meet one of these women?” Nathan shook his head.
No wonder most humans were always claiming poverty. The things they spent their money on never ceased to astonish him. Unless held in gold, stocks, cold hard cash, jewels, antiques, or fine art, it proved ultimately worthless. Tomorrow he’d spend some time with his hoard of gold—the thought made him smile. His people experienced a strong connection with the precious metal. They believed it held healing and soothing properties and their females wore a lot of it. The males kept their ceremonial gold cuffs locked away, to be worn when they celebrated the summer and winter solstices, or said thanks to their various gods.
The music ramped up, and at opposite ends of the arena two females entered. The taller, leaner female possessed icy, white-blonde hair. Presumably, the aptly named Ice. The other caught his attention so he used his dragon gaze to zoom in on her. Wow. David was right, The Shredder looked kind of hot, in an unusual way.
The white blonde entered the ring and the compere held up her arm shouting, “Welcome Theeeeee Shreeeeedeerrrrrr.”
So, despite the hair, not Ice? Which meant the striking brunette held the name Ice. He leaned into David. “Why is the one called Ice a brunette, and the ice blonde named The Shredder?”
“After their reputations as fighters. So, Shredder, she blasts into her opponents like a shredding machine. Moves fast as a cheetah, she does. Ice, is known for her ultra-calm. Never gets fazed, and often wins because she keeps her wits about her. Always so bloody cool.”
He nodded and turned back to the ring.
The bell sounded and the Shredder’s fist connected with Ice’s jaw. Nathan flinched. Wow. Not that he believed females incapable of fighting. Britain had been home to many warrior women who fought in the battles of old, back when he’d been young and naïve and thought humans were special. As the centuries marched on, he’d come to realize they were more akin to vermin. He did wonder periodically, if a time would come when their numbers needed to be culled for the sake of the planet. It looked increasingly probable.
The fight dragged on much longer than the previous one, the women evenly matched, and despite The Shredder going at her hard, Ice dodged many of her blows, and landed a few good ones. Nathan sat forward in his seat suddenly interested. Fatigue stole across The Shredder’s features as Ice ground her down. The woman intrigued him. Certainly, he’d not seen such unusual beauty in a long time.
Her long dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, which accentuated high cheekbones and arresting eyes. They were such a light color, an odd mix of green and blue. True aqua, like a tropical sea, they stood out against
her brunette hair and olive skin. She had a strong jaw and a nose that ran straight, both almost masculine in their appearance. But those eyes and her full mouth saved her from appearing manly. Taken apart, her features—other than her eyes—might not have seemed much, but together they created an astonishing face. Gods, he needed to get a grip. Dragons had sex with human females; they didn’t compose sonnets to their beauty.
A bell rang and a roar went up from the crowd. The compere grabbed Ice’s arm and held it aloft as she grinned wide.
“I take it Ice won?” he asked David.
“Yup. Which means I lost fifty quid, and she’s heading for the semi-finals in two months.”
“Who will she fight first?”
“Pamela Ruin.” He snorted. “It’s actually her name—she didn’t need a nickname picked out for her. Surname says it all. She does ruin her opponents. She’s ferocious. Ice wins the match with her, and she’s through to the amateur final.”
On stage, the two women gave one another a friendly hug and a slap on the back. That seemed different to most fights. Last time he’d watched a boxing match, admittedly a long time ago, it had been all about the hate.
The women left the arena to more pumping music and a sexily dressed girl paraded around holding up a sign.
“Come on.” David stood and beckoned Nathan to follow him. “Let’s see if my friend has come through. I want to meet the awesome Natalie.”
Nathan furrowed his brow.
“It’s The Shredder’s real name.”
“Ah.”
Ten minutes later, they stood in a long corridor while David gushed over the female fighter. Nathan glanced at his watch. He’d had enough, but ought to wait for David. Didn’t pay to offend the guy who controlled your assets. Once David finished slathering all over the woman in front of them, Nathan would say his goodbyes and be off. He didn’t care to stay for the men’s fights. Maybe he’d retire to his room and read, or perhaps he’d head to a bar and meet a woman. Dominic did it enough. In fact, he grew sick of the never-ending parade of strange human females in their abode these days. Nathan ought to have a little fun of his own. Of course, all of it stopped if they found a suitable mate.
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