Shifter Secrets: Shifter Romance Collection

by Juniper Hart

  “I’d take on the entire Kingdom before I fought your mother,” Asher joked. “At least Henry would be in good hands.”

  It warmed her heart to know how much love Henry was surrounded by. Every time they turned around, it was as though someone had their arms open, their eyes pleading for their turn to hold and play with him. All of Asher’s siblings were fantastic with him, and Henry particularly had a soft spot for Eden. Everyone liked to joke that he was a ladies’ man. Of course, it took a while for the couple to trust anyone to hold him. He had been so sick for the first couple of months, needing breathing treatments and medications to get him to where he needed to be.

  He was still small, the size of a typical three-month-old, but Asher had explained it was because of how slow dragons aged. Of course, Olive didn’t mind it one bit, knowing that many mothers wished for their children to stay little forever. However, she wasn’t quite ready for the questions she knew were coming from her parents. They had started to make comments about how small Henry still was. For the time being, Henry being born prematurely acted as an excuse, though some very difficult conversations were going to have to happen, ones that neither Asher nor Olive were ready for.

  They headed back to their townhouse in the city. Once inside, Olive busied herself with making dinner for herself and Asher. When it came to living together, it wasn’t even a topic of discussion, just an understanding they had reached without needing to vocalize it. The townhouse itself was perfect: three bedrooms with an office, full dining room, and two and a half baths. Esme frequently came by to visit, as well as to babysit when Olive and Asher would go out on rare dates, though they always had one of his siblings come by as a form of security.

  As the ziti she threw together baked, Olive made her way down the hall and into the living room. Her heart melted at the sight of Asher lying on the couch with Henry on his chest. Henry was struggling to hold onto consciousness while Asher whispered to him what was going on in a movie that played on the television. It had been Asher’s own little trick to get Henry to go to sleep, his son always lulled by the sound of his father’s voice.

  Olive leaned against the archway and watched them for a few minutes before Asher noticed her and gestured for her to join them. She happily obliged, going over and nestling into Asher’s side. From that position, she was face to face with her son. His big hazel eyes were hardly open, rolling lazily and slowly blinking. His hair was starting to curl, which made Olive absolutely melt. He was going to be the spitting image of his father, and she wasn’t sure her heart could bear the cuteness. They relaxed together as a family, all of them dozing off into a light slumber, though Olive stayed alert enough to listen out for the timer on the oven.

  When Henry was born, no one could have convinced her things would turn out so normal for them—or as normal as they could be. Olive wasn’t naïve enough to think it would last, but she certainly wasn’t stupid enough to take what they had for granted, either. She savored every day being filled with playtime, feedings, diaper changes, bath time, and family visits. All leading to moments like those, where they could just be by themselves, their own little family.

  Eventually, the oven timer did go off, and Olive sat up, placing a kiss on each of her boys’ heads before retreating to the kitchen. Pulling the pasta out of the oven, she began preparing a couple of salads, yawning as she tried to shake off the grip the nap had on her. Then, two arms snaked around her.

  “It smells fantastic,” Asher purred, trailing kisses all down her neck.

  “You can thank my mother for the recipe.”

  “Or I can thank you instead,” he grinned, playfully nibbling her ear.

  Excitement and arousal stirred in her core. “Quit it you,” she pouted, though by no means meant it.

  “Or else what?” he challenged.

  Olive turned to say something smart, but he planted a kiss on her lips, stealing away any thought she may have had. She dissolved in his hold, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him back. He soon pulled back and gave a smirk that indicated he was awaiting her response. “I’ve seemed to have lost my train of thought.”

  Asher laughed and nuzzled her neck, bringing her into his chest. “Oh, Olive, you make me so damn happy.”

  “You’re pretty great yourself.”

  “I mean it,” he insisted, standing straight. “I can’t even begin to remember how I ever felt joy in life before finding you. You complete me in ways that I never thought possible. The way I feel for you is just how other couples in the Kingdom expressed their love, and I used to roll my eyes. Now, I think that if I were to vocalize how I felt about you, no one could hold down their dinners,” he chuckled. “You have not only blessed me with a son, but with a love that is earth-shattering and life-altering.”

  “I feel the same about you.” Olive blushed, biting her lip excitedly. Asher brought a hand to her face, gently pulling on her chin so that her teeth had to release the lip.

  “There’s been a conversation on the backburner for far too long.” Olive’s brows pushed together, becoming puzzled with what he meant. “That night on the beach, before you went into labor?”

  That night had been such a blur to look back on that Olive didn’t fully realize what he was hinting at until he was sinking down in front of her on one knee.

  “Olive Marie Eriksson, will you marry me?” Asher asked breathlessly. His hand reached into his pocket and produced a small black velvet box. When the lid opened, Olive’s breath was taken away. A teardrop-shaped emerald was surrounded by diamonds, which lined the entire band.

  “Oh, my god,” she exhaled, her hands covering her mouth. “Of course, I will. Of course.”

  Asher was on his feet in an instant, swooping her off her feet and spinning her around in a circle. Her hands cradled his face and showered him with kisses. He chuckled softly and kissed her back as he sat her down, simultaneously sliding the ring on her finger. Did anyone at all know happiness quite as Olive was feeling it just then? She didn’t think it to be possible, since she had the perfect man and the perfect son. No one else had them to call their own.

  They kissed passionately, which led them to abandon their dinner plans and steal away to their room while Henry napped. They were caught in the throes of passion, making slow, sweet love. They kissed every square inch of one another’s bodies and held onto one another like it was their last moment on earth.

  After, they lay together, flushed and content. Olive scratched Asher’s chest and couldn’t help but stare at the ring on her finger. The thought of becoming a Tallant was overwhelming, yet exciting. At that point, considering they had a child together, marriage was just a sentimental gesture. It was one that meant the world to her, however.

  “I love you, Olive,” Asher purred at her, brushing the tip of his nose along the length of hers.

  “I love you, too. More than you can ever know.”

  They remained like that, surrounded by silence and the warmth of love. It gave Olive immense solace to know that days like this were plentiful to come. Never again would she have to feel lonely or uncertain. No longer did she have to wait for better days when each day she experienced held no regrets.

  When Henry began to whine from his room, the couple finally forced themselves from the bed. Olive slipped on her robe and headed downstairs to once again tend to their dinner while Asher tended to Henry. Soon enough, Olive was plating their dinners, and Asher emerged in a pair of boxers with a sleepy-faced Henry in his arms. They sat at the table, Olive taking Henry to hold in her lap. He was starting to try to babble, but he mostly just made an “ahh” noise.

  “Da-da,” Asher cooed to him.

  “Or Ma-ma,” Olive butted in, sticking her tongue out at Asher. He laughed at her and rolled his eyes.

  “So jealous. Guess we’ll just have to have another one so we can share appropriately, hm?”

  Olive nearly choked on her food and looked at him. “Can’t we get this one out of diapers before discussing adding mor
e?”

  “That’ll take so long, though,” Asher huffed. “Can you blame me for wanting a whole litter when he’s so perfect?”

  “Can’t say that I can,” Olive smiled, ruffling Henry’s wild hair.

  That had been the first time the idea of having another child was brought up, and Olive wasn’t as opposed to it now that she knew everything would be alright with Carlyle. She had longed for Asher to experience the pregnancy with her the entire time she had carried Henry. Maybe if they did have another one, she could actually enjoy that pregnancy.

  No more was said on the matter, however. They continued about their evening. Once they finished eating, they made a team effort to bathe Henry before putting him in fresh pajamas and retiring to their bedroom for the remainder of the night. Henry stayed between them, giggling and smiling as they played and cuddled. Eventually, Asher began reading to him. He couldn’t stand the childish novels that people had gifted them with and instead took to reading the classics to the little boy. Fitzgerald, Frost, Hemingway, Wilder.

  Olive curled into Asher’s side, her head resting on his shoulder. She was also lulled by the soothing sound of his voice, though her mind danced around the exciting evening it had turned out to be. They were engaged and having talks of conceiving again. It all was too good to be true.

  Sometimes she found herself wondering if her nightmares during her pregnancy were reality, and what she was experiencing was a dream. Or if perhaps she had gotten into an accident with Esme’s reckless driving, and this was her afterlife. If so, it made sense. Even something as simple as being curled up in bed with Asher and her son with a good book was heaven to her.

  THE END

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  Royal Dragon Curse: Dragon Shifter Romance Collection

  Shifter Scandal

  Birch Mountain Alphas

  Legend of the Birch Mountain Alphas

  As the legend goes, in the North Hungarian Mountains, Abel Toth and his bride Mariska were struggling to survive the unforgiving cold of 1432. Their land was barren, and they were at the mercy of a tyrant landlord who worked the couple without rest.

  With food scarce and Mariska, who was pregnant and sickly, about to perish, Abel knew he must find a way to keep his family alive.

  He stole off into the woods one night, determined to find a rabbit on which to feast, but soon found himself lost and empty-handed.

  He encountered a small cabin nestled in the groves of the mountainside, surrounded by birch trees, and he approached it with low hopes. People were starving all over Hungary and unwilling to embrace strangers while they sank into their own despair.

  Near death, Abel knocked upon the door, begging the old woman inside for assistance. He promised her anything if she would only give him a morsel to eat so he could return to his ailing wife.

  She sneered at him, proclaiming that he did not have anything worthwhile for which to trade his life, and she recommended he allow himself to die.

  His fierce European pride refused to let him give up—not when his beloved was waiting. He told the old woman that God would not allow for him to die, and he turned to leave. The old woman, impressed with his resolve, called him back.

  “I will grant you your wish on one condition,” she told him.

  “Anything,” he agreed gratefully. “I will do anything to return to my Mariska again.”

  The old woman’s eyes glittered with something Abel could not identify, but he was far too bedraggled to decipher her expression.

  “I will appear to you one day and you must grant me whatever I desire from your land,” she explained to him.

  Abel thought of the dying farm and could think of nothing worthwhile the witch would want. He immediately agreed to the terms, and suddenly his arms were laden with a sack filled with meats, cheese, vegetables, and breads. The food was enough to save his wife and feed his tiny family for a month.

  He looked up to thank the old woman with tears in his eyes, but he was already standing before his once ruined shack. It had been restored to a secure cottage, without the concaved roof and drafty holes in the mud walls.

  Abel rushed to his wife’s side, finding her well and with color in her cheeks for the first time in her life.

  He dropped to his knees and prayed to God, thanking Him for sending the witch to his aid.

  Years passed, and the farm became fruitful. Abel and Mariska were blessed with three healthy children. Then the old tyrant landlord died, leaving the farm to his kindly daughter, who oversaw the peasants with a velvet glove.

  Abel had all but forgotten the reason for his family’s turn in fortune when the decrepit witch appeared at his cottage one day.

  Abel, an old man himself by this time, was shocked to see she was still alive, but welcomed her happily into his home.

  “You have returned!” he announced, waving his arms about as if to show her how well he was doing.

  “I have come to collect on my debt,” the ancient woman crooned, and Abel nodded eagerly. When he had made his deal with her, he had thought he wouldn’t have anything to offer her. Now he could appropriately repay her for what she had done to help him.

  “As you can see, I have much to give. What would you like? A horse? A cow? Eggs? Milk? Cheese? Anything you desire shall be yours.”

  The old woman smiled a toothless, mirthless grin that made Abel uneasy.

  “I wish for your firstborn,” she declared, looking toward the field and setting her eyes upon Attila, Abel and Mariska’s firstborn and a strapping lad. Abel laughed, believing her to be jesting, but then he could see that she was not.

  “I will not give you my son!” he decried, and the old woman’s face immediately contorted in fury.

  “You will recant on our deal?” she hissed, pointing a long, gnarled finger in his face.

  “You may have anything you wish,” he said, “but never my children!”

  “That was not a condition of the deal,” the witch snarled. “I will give you one last chance to make good on your word.”

  Abel folded his arms across his chest, shaking his head vehemently.

  “No! Leave this place. You cannot penetrate our family with your witchcraft.”

  The old woman leered, cold and terrifying. She disappeared before his eyes, leaving Abel with his heart pounding.

  She will not retaliate, he thought to himself.

  As he stood, he watched the crops turn to ash. The animals dropped dead in the field, and dread instantly overcame him.

  He turned to seek out his family, rushing to their sides and exhaling in relief to find them safe and accounted for.

  The next morning, Abel woke, his mind unclear and foggy after a strange dream, and he stared about the cottage.

  The walls were splattered with blood, and the mangled corpses of his family were sprawled about the floor in tatters.

  Uncomprehendingly, Abel ran to them, opening his mouth to scream. Nothing emerged but a guttural howl as he dropped to his knees.

  He extended his palm to touch Mariska’s face, and suddenly he saw hair sprouting from his knuckles.

  Wheeling backward, Abel touched his face, feeling a snout where his nose once was, and he rushed to find his reflection in a cracked mirror. He saw the blood of his family upon his furry face, his elongated teeth and the yellow in his eyes.

  The primal animal cries reverberated throughout the Northern Hungarian Mountains as Abel ran from the horrific scene.

  It was not long before Abel had retreated into the low woods of Hungary, where he could easily prey upon human flesh to satiate his insurmountable cravings, unknowingly turning dozens of others into the creature he had become with a mere scratch of his claw.

  When colonization began in the New World, Abel’s descendants, the Birch Mountain Alphas, were able to shift from their wolf forms to human, and some even managed to dance in between.

  They never outgrew their sensitivities to silver, w
olfbane, or religious artifacts, but their numbers forged and they found packs in the most unlikely places.

  Deeply ingrained in their genetics was a deep distrust for others, the witch’s betrayal imprinted in their minds and passed through the generations. This made it very difficult for the Birch Mountain Alphas to find their fated mates.

  Prologue

  How can a city of this magnitude be so suffocating?

  The blackness of the subway tunnels did nothing to calm her racing heart. She willed herself to stare straight ahead as if the slightest movement would attract attention. She hoped her dark sunglasses and headscarf would protect her from potential scrutiny, but she had low hopes.

  She was Gabriella Medina, after all. Her face would be recognized from Maine to Alaska and everywhere in between. There was not a place on earth where her smoldering eyes would not spark a second glance. For the first time in her twenty-four years of life, she rued her sensational good looks. There was nowhere to go, no place to hide.

  How could I have let this happen? I don’t know what to do, she told herself mournfully. How did this get so far?

  It was a question she had asked herself many times over the past weeks, but the answer did not manifest itself easily. She had no part in what had happened, not really. She wished she had been more outspoken, though, louder in her protest. It was too late now; it had escalated beyond control, and all Gabby could think to do was run.

  This will blow over eventually, she reasoned, but the words were little comfort to a girl who wanted nothing more than to disappear into thin air. There must be somewhere I can go in the meantime.

  Slowly, she lowered her too-large glasses and peered about the cesspool that was the A train heading into Manhattan. Her wide, chocolate eyes scanned the torn advertisements above the doors, hoping for inspiration.