by Unknown
Then again, Robin had not been expecting a spy in his own study. The Black Court delegation would be on their guard for tricks, especially if they knew Robin would be there. And how could they not? He was Oberon’s Blade.
“This is Lord Kael Oren. He will be coming with you. He is a cousin of the missing Prince Evan.”
Oh, this should be fun! Not. Robin smiled at the other man. He remembered the scandal following Prince Edmond Yate’s mating of a pooka commoner. The White Court had been utterly appalled that one of Gloriana’s brothers had lowered himself so, forcing Gloriana to raise the girl’s family to the peerage. Prince Edmond had told them all to go pound sand and declared that he was abdicating any right to the throne of the White Court to be with the woman the gods had declared was his.
Robin had sent them a lovely mating gift.
Robin bowed, graceful yet mocking, and saw his bow returned, mimicked nearly perfectly.
“Lord Robin.” The pooka’s tenor voice was soft and filled with amusement. He met Robin’s gaze dead on, with only a slight twinge of fear, quickly masked.
Robin grinned, intrigued. Maybe the boy has potential after all. Robin was always on the lookout for potential Blades, men and women of integrity who guarded Oberon and did his will. This one could be a recruit, if he proved himself capable.
He turned his attention back to Oberon, one eyebrow cocked, the grin still lingering on his face.
Oberon merely shook his head. They knew each other well. Oberon would know how Robin would react to Kael. “If the prince is no longer with us, I expect you to dispense justice.”
The green glow in Robin’s eyes was swiftly hidden by his long lashes as he bowed to his king and friend. “Yes, my liege.” He ignored Lord Kael’s swiftly hidden shiver of unease.
This had the potential to be fun.
The only way to save her is to bind their souls as one.
A Feast of Souls
© 2012 Hailey Edwards
Araneae Nation, Book 2
Born with the ability to communicate with the dead, few things take Mana by surprise. But when a canis lopes into her life, announcing himself as the long-dead father of a childhood friend, she’s shocked. To make matters worse, he has a dire message that she alone can deliver.
Now Mana must face Vaughn, the male who inspired one too many girlish fantasies, and impart the spirit’s message—without acknowledging her source—so the soul can be laid to rest.
With rumors of a burgeoning clan war setting his nerves on edge, the last thing Vaughn needs is for an innocent to get caught in the crosshairs. But the woman he remembers as an awkward girl refuses to leave his side until he’s heard her out. That’s not the only change in her that calls to him. Her kindness soothes his battle-scarred soul—and he craves her in ways a warrior shouldn’t.
When they are both captured, they learn of an even greater threat. The plague devastating the southlands has come to his clan home. And his best—and only—chance to keep his people alive is the female who walks among the dead.
Warning: This book contains one fierce hero with a nose for danger, one stubborn heroine who smells like trouble, and one wolfish spirit who makes most relationships with the in-laws seem downright tame. Fur, fangs and some biting should be expected. But never fear, the hero has a sword, and he knows how to use it.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Feast of Souls:
“Are you ready?” Vaughn walked so close, heat from his body sizzled against my skin.
Static crackled across my arms and raised hairs all over my body. The veil. We had arrived. I was so grateful for a respite I hadn’t checked the reason why our procession had come to an end.
Shadows darkened Vaughn’s eyes. I imagined the wheel of his mind spinning. “Are you?”
His exhale sounded strained. “I am.” He cast me a calculating glance. “Kiss me for luck?”
I almost swallowed my tongue. “What?” My mind had wandered but not so far from its path.
“Kiss me.” His eyes gleamed brighter than they had since our ordeal began. “It’s tradition for a male to seek a female’s kiss before crossing the veil. Gives him a reason to fight its energy.”
“Really?” I made my voice sound thoughtful. “All these years I’ve broken tradition without realizing. Old Father never mentioned such a noble cause, nor did my other travel companions.”
His nod was somber. “Wait—what do you mean other travel companions?”
“Old Father rarely leaves Beltania these days, even for clan business. When I leave the city, my aunt assigns one of her husband’s clansmen to act as my guard. Deinopidae males are rather physical males. You’d think I’d have tempted one…” I sighed. “Consider the kisses I’ve missed.”
I have gone mad. The strain of capture has taken its toll. Think of who I’m tempting. Think of whose attentions I’m inviting. Think of those soft lips of his. One last chance to taste them…
Tonight we fought for our freedom. If we lost…I wanted to know this male’s kiss.
Vaughn cleared his throat. “We could make up for lost time.”
“You’d do that, for me?” My smile was impossible to stop. I should be afraid—of him, of this night, of the outcome of two bound prisoners against a score of Theridiidae. “How kind you are.”
But I wasn’t afraid. Vaughn’s presence enveloped me, kept me safe against all odds. My skin tightened and my head ached as I was forced to consider perhaps it had never been him I feared, but his effect on me. Tradition demanded I save myself for my soul mate. My heart, well, it was less inclined to wait. With no visible aura and no possible future, I gave myself to this moment.
Vaughn closed the distance between us. “This is not the first kiss you deserve.”
“Who said this was my first?” I was a warm-blooded female and males had interested me.
His brow furrowed. “You’re Salticidae.”
“I am.” I wished my hands were free to shape his broad shoulders. “I’m also waiting.”
“Then we’re even.” His head lowered. Our breaths mingled. “I’ve waited for this.”
Surprise parted my lips, and he claimed my mouth with hunger that sank into my bones. One brush of his lips and I was lost. His tongue traced the entrance to my mouth, seeking permission I granted by inclining my head. Desire fogged my mind, the low rumble in the back of his throat making tension coil low in my stomach. Our bodies pressed so close, I realized how well we fit.
The thrust and glide of Vaughn’s tongue mirrored the erotic turn of my thoughts. No. I could not indulge in this male when I had one of my own somewhere. When the gods brought my soul mate to me, I would not go to him sullied or disgraced for being so weak I gave away my virtue.
Suddenly the bite of rope on my wrists was a welcome reminder of our circumstances. Over the pounding of my heart, I heard his raw breaths and saw wildness glint in his eyes. I withdrew.
If our display hadn’t earned us the full attention of our guards, I might have considered a roll in the snow to cool the heat making it hard for me to breathe. Gods’ web he had my mind dazed.
“Don’t stop on our account.” Urien winked in a too-familiar way. “Pretend we aren’t here.”
“How can she?” Teilo snorted. “You’re staring a hole through her blouse.”
Urien’s brows slanted. “It’s not my fault if she likes males to watch—”
A lone howl rose over the noises of our procession. The mournful song was lifted higher by another voice and then another until a chorus of melancholy descended around us. From the edge of the woods, a black wolf sauntered. Behind him, a dozen more eyes gleamed gold and furious.
Several Theridiidae males huddled around our group for a better look at the canis.
“You there, Walker, come here.” Torrance waved me closer. “Is this some trick of yours?”
“Despite rumors to the contrary,” I assured him, “I know no tricks.”
“Leave her be.” Vaughn stared at the alpha.
“I doubt they cross the veil. Animals avoid it the same as we do. Their presence is a good omen. Consider their song a parting gift from the pack.”
“I’ll consider it what I like.” Torrance glared at Mana. “If I find out this was your doing…”
“Believe what you want.” I gritted my teeth. “Small minds can’t be changed.”
Torrance slapped me across the face before I could react, and my lip burst.
“You struck her.” Vaughn took a slow step toward Torrance. “I will kill you for that.”
“Back off now or I’ll lop off that ring finger of yours, send it and your signet to your mother. Bet Isolde would love that.” Torrance smirked. “I know my maven would.”
Muscle worked in Vaughn’s jaw. “Take it. I have nine more where it came from.” He swept his leg out, knocking Torrance’s legs from under him. The male hit the ground with a groan, and Vaughn knelt on his windpipe. Even with his hands cinched behind his back, Vaughn was lethal.
“You drew first blood,” Vaughn snarled in his face. “Remember that.”
“Get off.” Urien cuffed Vaughn upside the head and sent him sprawling onto his back.
Wheezing, Torrance turned onto his side, shoving up onto his hands and knees. “Kill him.”
The guards exchanged a look as my heart lurched.
“Are you so eager to go to war with the Mimetidae?” I asked him. “Your maven has begun a battle she can’t hope to win with the Araneidae. After this, the kidnapping of Lourdes’s beloved sister a second time by your clan, she will call in all favors and enlist all her allies to destroy you.”
A moment passed. Torrance swung his head toward me.
“You know I’m right.” This time his clan had gone too far. “While the Mimetidae must fight for the Araneidae, those are the terms of their alliance, think how much hotter their tempers will flare after learning you not only kidnapped their ally’s second heir, but murdered their heir too?”
“She, ah, has a point there.” Urien scratched the stubble on his cheeks.
“Leave the decision to our maven,” Teilo chimed in. “After the grief these two have caused, I doubt Colleen would deny you the right to carve justice for your wife’s cousin from his flesh.”
“Heed the counsel of your peers,” I said. “Your maven won’t thank you for making her an enemy in Isolde. Few are more ruthless than the Mimetidae maven, and none are bloodthirstier.”
“Fine.” Torrance pushed to his feet and glared at Vaughn. “Pray your mother comes quickly for you. If she is a day late or one gold coin short, I will have your head for what you did today.”
“I see no reason for us to hide behind our mavens. If you have a score to settle with me, free my hands.” Eagerness made Vaughn’s dark eyes glitter. “Let us settle our grievances here, now.”
Blood draining from his face, Torrance said, “No. The female is right. You’re worth more to my maven alive.” He cleared his throat. “For the time being, your neck is safe. Don’t tempt fate.”
Once Torrance had gone, and Teilo with him, I could breathe again.
“You kept my head and neck attached for another day.” Vaughn eyed the veil. “Thank you.”
“Repay me by not provoking Torrance again.” My nerves were already frayed as it was.
“I will keep you safe.” Danger sharpened his voice. “No matter the price.”
I shut my eyes, fearful of what surviving might cost us all.
Sometimes a secret goes to the grave. Sometimes Secret puts you there.
Grave Secret
© 2013 Sierra Dean
Secret McQueen, Book 5
It’s been a hell of a year for Secret McQueen, and the last thing in the world she wants is to get caught up in werewolf drama. But when her former fiancé Lucas Rain shows up asking for her help, she knows there’s no easy way out.
After making it known she wants nothing to do with him, Secret agrees to help find Lucas’s wayward sister Kellen. After all, how much trouble could one socialite get into in the city that never sleeps?
Unless that socialite has been spirited away by fairies.
Trying to track down a missing girl in an alternate reality is just the start of Secret’s problems, though. Someone appears to be killing teenagers, and the MO looks eerily similar to something for which the half-fairy oracle, Calliope, might be responsible. Throw in a rogue wolf pack claiming allegiance to Secret’s mother, Mercy, and she’ll have miles to go before she rests.
Warning: This book contains a promise fulfilled, sex that’s out of this world, and more heartache than one hybrid assassin can handle.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Grave Secret:
Our forgotten beers flew off the table and onto the floor.
I gave up fumbling with his shirt buttons and had gone instead to the belt buckle digging into my pelvis. He shucked off my jacket and sent it flying over the couch, then pulled me abruptly into a sitting position, my ass on the edge of the low wood table.
“Take that off,” he said, his voice husky and commanding.
At first I thought he meant my shirt, but then I realized I was still wearing my holster and gun. Carefully I removed the leather straps and did a quick check to make sure the weapon was safetied before placing it on the couch rather than having it thrown somewhere. The second I had the gun out of my hands, he was untucking my shirt and pulling it over my head. I undid the last of his shirt buttons and pushed it off his shoulders before I tugged his belt free of the loops on his pants with a flourish.
With his shirt off, I could see the scar on his chest. A small, near-perfect circle slightly puckered on the edges where the silvery skin was still pink. I touched it, reaching out slowly to give him plenty of time to pull away or move my hand. He didn’t. Instead he stopped what he was doing and watched as the pad of my thumb brushed the smooth circle of flesh.
In response he touched a matching silver scar on my shoulder, making me shiver. He leaned me back onto the coffee table again, his mouth finding the scar on my stomach where I’d been run through by the katana which now hung over my fireplace. My collection of permanent scars was more impressive than his, but for some reason the little circle on his chest hurt me worse than any of my wounds had.
“I’m sorry,” I said, placing a kiss on the scar.
“I’m not.”
“You could have died.” He was busy undoing my pants, but he went still when I said it.
“I didn’t. And neither did you.” He said it in such a way that I knew we were done with this topic. I hated how he’d been hurt because of me, but he considered it worthwhile because I was alive.
I pulled him against me so his bare skin touched mine and neither of our scars was showing. For a moment I just wanted to hold him close and feel him breathe with me the way we used to when we slept in the same bed night after night. I’d missed the sex, absolutely. But I’d missed him more. His warm skin, his scent, the cadence of his breathing. Every tiny fiber that made him Desmond was something I had craved like oxygen since he’d left.
Finally, when I thought I might break down and cry from the overwhelming emotion of what being near him was doing to me, I bit his earlobe and whispered, “Take off your pants.”
He was up in a heartbeat, kicking off his work pants and socks, which made me chuckle warmly. He pinned me with a warning expression. “You won’t be laughing long.”
Biting my lip, I fought the urge to tease him more, but with him looming over me it was almost impossible to find anything to laugh at. His skin was olive over the perfectly toned planes of his body. His legs and arms were corded with muscle, and his abs might as well come with a Lick Me sign attached to them. The dark hair over his chest formed a thin trail down his stomach, begging my eyes to follow from his bellybutton to the low waist of his black boxer briefs. The cotton on his underwear was straining dramatically, and I got wetter just looking at him.
My mouth was dry and my tongue thick. I couldn’t have made fun of him if I wa
nted to. I didn’t want to. The only desire left in me was to have him inside me in every way imaginable, as fast as possible.
“Get up,” he said.
I did without hesitation. I thought he might take me on the coffee table, it felt sturdy enough, but he had a different idea in mind. Once I was standing, he lifted me right off the floor and slung me over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. Instead of being surprised—after all, he’d done this to me before—I took advantage of my position by slipping my hands into his underwear and giving his ass a squeeze while running my tongue along the beautiful toned V on his lower back above the waistband of his boxers. Before my tongue was allowed to explore anything farther south I was in the air and tumbling backwards. I landed on a soft down duvet and he was on top of me, giving me no time to have a look around his dark bedroom.
His natural scent was mingled with something headier now, a musk I recognized as desire. Instead of giving any more instructions or speaking at all, he removed my panties without hesitation and undid my bra with one looped finger, tossing both aside in turn. When he knelt over me, I slid his own underwear off, leaving him bare and hard in front of me.
My mouth wasn’t dry anymore.
Closing my lips over the head of his cock, I lowered my head with aching slowness, savoring every moment. I’d never thought I’d be able to taste him again, and I wanted to remember every second of it. My tongue caressed each curve and hollow, circling his head as I withdrew, holding suction until the end.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “I thought you didn’t want to kill me.”
I cast my eyes upwards, watching him as I lowered my head again. This time he seized my hair roughly and pulled my mouth out of reach. He couldn’t stop my hands though, and one palm cupped his balls while the other wrapped around his rigid shaft, which was still damp from my saliva. His mouth formed a thin line.