“She doesn’t want you here, damn it!”
Jack rushed over, saying, “I’m not going anywhere, dragon. Not until I know my daughter is safe.”
Jericha was shaking, her body colder than it had ever been. Before, she basked in the freezing sensation of ice, but in that moment, it was consuming her, eating her whole, from the inside out.
“Help me,” she croaked.
Connor’s heart rate spiked out of control.
“Shit! What do I do?”
“I already told you. She needs your blood. If she drinks it in time, she’ll recover. But if you continue to waste time, asking stupid questions, she will surely die.”
“Screw you!” he growled.
Jack’s voice relayed the urgency and fear he felt, which his expression didn’t show.
“Lash out at me or save her. It’s your choice.”
Connor couldn’t feel his body, as he pulled Jericha onto his lap. His dragon’s sharp fangs wouldn’t fit inside the mouth of his human form, so he had no choice but to rip through the flesh at his wrist with human teeth. He placed his arm up to her lips, hooked his other around her waist, and pulled, until they were pressed body against body.
“Take from me whatever you need.”
She nuzzled her face against his skin. The spicy scent of him swept her up into a dizzying rush. If he smelled that good, she could only imagine how he’d taste.
“I have no clue what I’m doing, Connor. I’ve only drunk from a carton, never straight from the flesh,” she said in a low whimper.
Relieved beyond words that she’d never drunk from another, Connor cherished her words, savoring them like sweet chocolate melting in his mouth. He would be her first, and if the Fates were kind and just, he would also be her only.
He brought his hand up to the back of her head and pressed her open lips to his flesh. He could feel the prick of her delicate fangs hovering.
“Just bite down, and the rest will happen naturally.”
Blood dripped inside her mouth, and after only a few seconds, Jericha’s mouth opened wide, and she bit hard.
Holy shit!
He tasted so damn good. A purr escaped between her lips, as she sucked on his flesh.
Connor’s voice echoed in her head, as he said, “Take it all if you must. Just heal for me.”
The more she drank, the more the ice that had been freezing her solid released its grip around her heart. Heat sizzled throughout her veins in a blast of lightning that singed away the frost. With her body still aching, she searched within her dragon’s eyes. His astonishing blue gaze bore deep into her soul.
“Please tell me it worked,” he said.
She trembled in his arms. The fear of dying had passed, and so had her apprehension and the intense fear of being mated.
“I’m okay.”
A dangerous heat blasted throughout the room, as Connor released the terror he’d been holding onto in metaphysical waves. His forehead fell forward, to rest against hers.
“Bless the Fates for not taking you from me. Do you have any idea how scared I was?”
A throat cleared nearby.
Connor muttered a curse and then said, “Thank you for helping, but you should leave now.”
Jericha made a sound of resignation, as she pushed out of Connor’s lap and straightened to stand.
“No. He can stay.”
Connor hissed, “But he upsets you.”
“I’ll be okay.”
He swallowed a low growl.
“I’m so glad to see the two of you have found each other.”
Jericha sent Jack an annoyed glare.
“Is that really the first thing you’re going to say to me, after years of abandonment?”
He met her fierce gaze without hesitation and said, “Sorry, I just have so much I’d like to talk to you about if you will allow it.”
“I don’t think so. Not right now, anyway,” she said.
After everything that had happened to her, like finding out she needed to drink blood to survive and that she had a fated mate, and then her body magically altering into the visage of winter, and last, but certainly not least, almost dying of a frozen heart, she still couldn’t wrap her mind around the fact that she was staring at her father for the very first time in her life.
The man, her father, stood in the middle of the room, wearing a black formal suit. His hair was close to his scalp, a cap of shock white curls. He looked at her through eyes that were arctic blue, the shade a perfect match to her own. She could starkly see a familial resemblance within their features.
The walls began to close in on her. It was all too much. She needed to get the hell out of there… pronto.
Frost searched his daughter’s face for a moment and found nothing but a wall of resistance.
“Some other time, then, after you’ve settled into your new life?”
Unease spread throughout her, as she hurried over to the French doors and pushed them open.
“Yeah, sure. Some other time.”
With a frown of disappointment, Jack conceded and took his leave.
“I look forward to it.”
There was a weighty silence, while Jericha fumbled around with her cumbersome skirt, as she trudged through the snow that covered the back courtyard.
If only I could hover over it, like the elves did. That would be so cool.
“Are you coming?” she asked Connor, who was watching her from the door.
“Life with you is never going to be dull, is it?” he asked.
“If I’m a burden, then….”
“Oh, no, that’s not what I mean at all. May I suggest an easier means of escape?”
Ignoring the tussled locks of hair slapping her in the face, she kept trudging along, while mumbling, “Life is never that convenient.”
He rushed his steps, until they were walking side by side and said, “With me, it is.”
With those words, a lot of her worry abated. She could feel his sincerity resonate deep in her soul.
She looked up at him, the sadness in her eyes fading. Still, it broke his heart to see it. Connor made a solemn vow then and there that he’d do anything in his power to keep that look off her beautiful face.
The predator inside him peeled back his lips and snarled, as his body began to shimmer in and out.
Jericha stepped back, her newly awakened heart pounding with excitement. She couldn’t take her eyes off Connor, as he shifted into his dragon form.
With a roar, he launched himself into the air, stretched his wings high in the sky, and then barreled back down to land a few feet away from her.
“Your father is a fool for missing a single second of your life. I will not make the same mistake. Ride with me.”
She dropped her skirt to pool over snow that glistened like a sheet of diamonds and then tilted her chin up, to gaze deep into his reptilian like eyes.
“I’ll come with you.”
There was a slight stirring of the air, as the dragon’s razor-sharp talons extended toward her. He laid his hand, claws up, on the ground in front of her. She bit her lower lip and took a deep breath. That was it. There would be no turning back if she left with him. She closed her eyes, body trembling with nervous anticipation.
“I know of your trepidation, my heart. But you have nothing to fear from me.”
She opened her eyes to find his on her. Even knowing she was about to put her heart, hell, her very life, in his hands, she wasn’t afraid.
Jericha’s laugh came as a pleasant surprise to Connor, as she threw her hands out and ran into the base of his massive hand. She crossed her arms over her chest in excitement, barely restraining her body from bouncing up and down. She felt like a school girl, young and smitten for the first time.
“Your body and soul have chosen me, my heart. I will never forsake such a gift.”
Epilogue
Jericha leaned back in wonder, caged safely within the claws of the dragon, as they rode upon the wind. Being t
rapped like that, dangling hundreds of feet above the hard ground, didn’t frighten her at all. It was the exact opposite. The beast made her feel safe. Connor made her feel like she belonged.
Snowflakes fluttered gently across her face, as the moon cast a vivid glow along the dragon’s skin, making it gleam like a polished jewel. She should’ve been freezing, but she wasn’t—her veins ran with ice. Her heart was the only thing that required heat, and Connor had taken care of that need.
Her fingers fluttered over her mouth. She could still taste him on her lips. His blood had been rich, sweet, and perfect.
Dragon-spirit burst through a thick wall of clouds, and Jericha laughed. She’d never felt so free before in her entire life. She stood up on her knees and pressed her hands against his talons. The surface felt smooth, like polished marble. She gazed down at the snowcapped mountains below, and the beauty of it all took her breath away.
Her gaze switched forward, and a brilliant veil of light had her bringing up her hands to shield her eyes. Blinking rapidly, she dropped her arm, and as the white spots cleared from her vision, she saw a spectacular castle that looked like it was carved out of the side of a massive mountain in the near distance. The structure hadn’t been visible before. It was as if it had miraculously appeared by magic.
“Welcome home, ice maiden.”
The End
About Gena
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Books by Gena D. Lutz
Prime Wolf Series
Ember’s Curse
Roxanne Desired
Kris Chase Series
Created Darkly
Devil’s Playground
Novellas
Chasing Magic
Sonnet Vale: Paranormal Hunter
Bite of Frost
Fang Chronicles: Esha’s Story
D’Elen McClain
Copyright 2015 D’Elen McClain
All rights reserved including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form.
This is a work of fiction. ALL characters are derived from the author’s imagination.
No person, brand, or corporation mentioned in this Book should be taken to have endorsed this Book nor should the events surrounding them be considered in any way factual.
Dedication
Jennifer Bruno, for your strength. You amaze me.
Chapter One
Esha
The room is dark—my pain darker. It’s the only way to describe the anguish of my soul and how it descends throughout my body. Shooting pain moves into every one of my cells. I’m lying against a firm mat on a large pedestal, wearing a long, white cotton gown. My black hair is unbound and surrounds my head in soft waves without touching my shoulders, because even it is too heavy against my skin.
I am an unmated tigershifter; the gravest of sins, which comes with the penalty of death. My tiger knows this, and she causes the pain. She’s just below the surface, scratching at my insides, fighting to get out one last time.
Grandmother beats softly on the tabla, a native drum she has cherished for countless years. The rhythm steadies my pulse and offers comfort. Mother prays in her lilting voice to soothe herself and my grandmother. But her prayers can’t save me now.
This is the time of separation, when these two women who love me must say a final goodbye.
I’m ready, though I know they are staying as long as possible.
Through the fog of pain, I remember the heartache when my sister Quatea died. I cast my own prayers that Mother and Grandmother will find peace after I’m gone. They have lost far too many daughters.
The sadness in the room is a shroud. The heavy weight keeps me from rising and searching for the man who can save me. I should be past this stage, but there remains a flicker of need to find my mate. Now, I only want that need to end and my time on this earth to be over.
My mother’s voice breaks through the pain. “Esha.”
The drum stops. It is time.
Cool, comforting arms wrap around me, and I refuse to voice the discomfort they cause. Grandmother’s prayers begin in the background. When she eases away slightly, I open my eyes and peer at the beautiful woman holding me.
She gives me her soft smile with shining, teary eyes. “Forgive me for failing you, my daughter. Go in peace.”
“Shhh,” I tell her in a raspy, pain-filled voice. I take a deep breath and hope I can say the words that will relieve a small part of her sorrow. “You did not fail, Mother. You and Grandmother have given me the greatest love. Thank you.” She squeezes a little tighter. “It is time to sing me away. I am at peace.” This is a lie that I hope she believes.
Mother cries quietly as Grandmother begins singing “Song of Endless Journeys”. It’s the final song of separation. Mother moves aside, and Grandmother’s silken fingers glide over my face. She is trying to imprint me forever in her memory. I saw her do this with my sister. I know her memories will fade, which is the way it should be. You should not hold on to the dead. Her thoughts and those of Mother’s are for the living. Mother’s hand goes to my shoulder, and Grandmother moves back and places her arms around my mother. This is the strength my mother needs to add her voice to the song and let me go.
The words offer guidance as I embark on an unknown journey. I won’t admit my fear aloud. I must be strong for these two courageous women. I close my eyes and try to accept the passing of this life.
He’s coming, my tiger whispers into my mind. But it’s too late now. He will never find me in time. I make peace with this world. I hear the scissors as two locks of my hair are clipped—one strand for Mother and one for Grandmother. Mother’s crying creeps into the song, but she somehow continues. I keep my eyes closed and, as the song dies, I feel Grandmother’s and then Mother’s lips against my cheek. With a final squeeze of my fingers, they leave and close the door behind them.
The separation is complete, and I await death at the hands of a vampire.
Chapter Two
Yesterday
Rondy the Great
“If I had known all the bullshit politics that are involved in being a vampire, I’d have passed,” I say before slamming the car door and waiting for Marcus on the stone driveway. The sun is down, and we’re attending a meeting with the vampire council. In fucking India.
I’ve been a vampire for fifteen years, and I’m still considered a baby. Attending this meeting was something I couldn’t get out of, no matter how much I whined. I look like I’m about twenty-three or twenty-four, and I personify the young, spoiled vampire. Even though I complain, being a vampire is badass-motherfuckin’ cool. If it weren’t for the damned vamp politics, I could also add “fucking fantastic” to the end of the sentence. I should have been given full disclosure before The Moor turned me. I would have seriously considered drowning myself in a bucket of dirty water before the bullet hole in my chest killed me. Ah, hell, who am I kidding? I would have chosen my current path but, hey, a man has a right to complain.
I was maliciously shot by two poachers. One of my best friends, Treson, who is a werecat, was tied with his hands behind him, which made it impossible for him to shift to his cat form and help staunch the blood. Not that he could have saved me. My friends weren’t even sure if the vamp bite would save me. My other best friend, Talya, made the decision to try to change me to vampire while I was unconscious and at death’s door. Of course, she’s a werecat like Treson, and had no idea about the vamp shit I’d be forced to put up with.
The vampires of the United States are bad enough with all their rules. Dealing with the dickheads of Europe and Asia is another story entirely. They all have a collective stick up their asses, along with being hung up on lineage and crap like that. Hell, almost everything they do is a full-on ceremony. Need to take a piss? Have a fucking ceremony. The really pathetic thing is that vampires don’t have normal bodily f
unctions, but the council dudes and dudettes probably have a ceremony for the fact that they don’t piss.
I roll my eyes because, in just a few minutes, I will no longer have even this small pleasure. Eye-rolling is way off limits.
“Remember,” Marcus says, “I irritate you. All vampires irritate you. We do not live within the same clan.”
“You insisted I come here and that fucking irritates me, so it won’t be a lie,” I grumpily throw back between clenched teeth. The vampires in Europe and Asia don’t get along so well. We, the American vampires, have gotten over that problem, but we don’t share our secrets as to how we did it. All this thinking gives me an imaginary headache. I can only imagine it, because vampires don’t have headaches either. My eyes go slightly amber with the angst I’m suffering, and this pisses me off, too. I should have better control after fifteen years.
Marcus grunts, but doesn’t say anything more until we approach the door of the castle-like residence of the Grand Poobah himself, known as Torbic. “Remember what happened last time, and try seriously hard to keep it from happening again,” he reminds me.
“Yes, sir,” I salute while fighting a grin at the memory. The last time I was here, a member of Torbic’s harem gave me sexy come-hither eyes, and later approached me in a dark hallway for a bit of grab and tickle. She was more than accommodating and returned the grab part in the best possible place. How was I to know Torbic had more than one claimed female? Hell, I figured he was mated. Torbic is thousands of years old. He’s also a lucky bastard to escape the clutches of being tied to one woman. I’ve not been as fortunate. Not that I wanted to escape at the time, but Sierra, the woman I had my heart set on, dumped me two years ago. Sierra also happens to be Marcus’ adopted daughter and the biological daughter of Ivan, The Moor’s alpha. Just maybe someone could have had the compassion to shoot me back then and save me from a broken heart.
Alphas Unwrapped: 21 New Steamy Paranormal Tales of Shifters, Vampires, Werewolves, Dragons, Witches, Angels, Demons, Fey, and More Page 82