by D. F. Jones
“You can have it.”
“I told you no.” She studied the handsome, sexy male before her, sensing he’d been hurt deeply. “Ash isn’t your real name is it?”
“It’s who I am now.”
“Why aren’t you healing?” She hated that she’d been the one to hurt him. Treya moved a strand of hair out of his face. “You’re the Sunstryker, aren’t you?”
He closed his eyes on a sigh. “Used to be, no longer. Now I’m Ashes, all that’s left.”
“I asked earlier, but you didn’t answer. What am I to you? Why do I feel like I know you, have always known you?”
“Soul mate.”
Treya was afraid of that, but there was no denying what she felt toward this male. And the idea of him dying twisted her insides and made her want to weep, which was not like her at all. “If what you’re saying is true, how can I help you?”
He opened his eyes, and the sadness in their depths staggered her. “I destroy everything, you’re not safe with me.”
“I can protect myself, but I need you to fight now.” Treya knew little of soul mates and dragonkind. But she did remember that all dragonkind males lose their souls after so long without a soul mate—their other half.
“I’m old, tired, and don’t want to hurt you. You’re so pure, so beautiful inside and out.”
Treya snorted. “I’m neither of those. You have no idea the things I’ve done.”
“I feel what’s inside you, it warmed me. Never thought I’d be warm again. Thank you for that,” he responded.
“You can’t say this to me, you can’t tell me I’m your soul mate then just die,” she snapped.
“Sweet Treya. I have too much hatred and nothing left in me to give you.”
Treya knew there was something between him and his brother, and had a sinking feeling her mother, the hateful witch, had broken his heart as well. “I’m sorry Ava hurt you, and I know I’m not her, so I don’t expect your love or anything, but you can’t die on me.”
“I mistakenly believed I was in love with her, but after meeting you, I know now that it was a lie,” he said. “My brother tried to tell me, but I didn’t believe him.”
“We can deal with all that later, just tell me how to fix this now. I didn’t mean to injure you. Please, Ash, please fight for us. I want you to claim me.” She dropped all shields and opened her mind, so he could see her desire, her need for him.
“Are you sure? If I do this, there’s no turning back.”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” she said.
With a ragged groan, Ash tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her mouth to his in a sweet, gentle kiss that was filled with so much passion it stunned her.
A burst of power ignited inside Treya and quickly consumed her.
Then a small glow illuminated Ash from the inside. “Do you accept me as your soul mate?”
Treya met his lips again, soaking in the glow. She ran her fingers through his hair. More of it had turned gold. The light inside him grew brighter, suffusing them both. It felt good, right, pure.
When Treya let him go, he had a dazed, yet hungry look in his emerald eyes. She smiled, feeling like she’d finally found her home. “I accept you as my soul mate, Sunstryker.”
Chapter 9
Life
As they stood outside, Treya explained about her brother and the hyenas. The clouds were gone, and the rain had stopped along with the lightning and thunder. Treya gazed around and it hit her. “You’ve been locked to this world, haven’t you?”
“Yes. Once the light in me disappeared, the sun began to die. The world turned dark, angry. I’ve been unable to leave.”
“And now that the light inside of you is back?” she asked.
He grinned. “Now everything changes. Thanks to you, my sweet, wild mate of fire.” The grin disappeared, and he cupped her face, his fingers gentle as he caressed her cheek. “I never thought I’d ever find my soul mate. I’d resigned myself to it and would have willingly given up life.”
“Except as dragonkind you can’t die.”
“Not unless someone deals me a killing blow.”
Like she had. “I’m so sorry. When I attacked you, I knew you were dragonkind. I only wanted to buy enough time to get away. I never thought I could end your life.”
“Had it been anyone else, I would’ve healed, but you being the other half of my soul changed that,” he answered.
“Good thing I saved you then.” Treya shuddered at the close call.
“Yes, good thing.” He kissed her, then moved away, and shifted into a giant golden dragon.
The most beautiful creature she’d ever seen.
I’ll be right back, he said telepathically, then took off with a powerful thrust of his wings and rose into the air. As he flew higher and higher, he grew smaller in her sight, then became a brightly glowing spec of white light.
Tears lit Treya’s eyes as he left the atmosphere and kept going with a speed she couldn’t imagine. He entered the dying sun, and she held her breath as a blast of power exploded, rocking the very ground she stood upon. All around, the universe lit up in a bright rainbow of color.
It shattered in every direction and rained down over the planet in a cascade of glittering, sparkling energy, bringing light and heat back—a massive blinding glow that swept around and encompassed Corsica Di’osa, healing and suffusing it once again with life.
Then he was back.
“Sunstryker,” she said breathless. This glorious being was her mate.
“Just call me Stryker.”
Treya smiled.
“Let’s go get your brother,” he said.
Together, they returned to the hyena’s crotchrider club, but only Treya walked up to the door.
“I don’t see the gold,” the alpha said.
“Did you really think I’d bring it here? I want to see my brother first.” Though no other could see or feel him, Treya was aware of her Stryker inching closer to the evil male.
The alpha nodded at one of his men. “Get the kid.” A moment later, the guy came out with Jacey in front of him, a knife to her brother’s throat.
Jacey’s eyes lit up at the sight of her. You came.
Told you I would, Treya said.
“Now, where’s my treasure?” the alpha asked.
“In a cave on Bicily.”
The alpha scowled. “You tried to hide it, but I know you’re a teleport. Bring it here to me, now.”
Treya raised an eyebrow. “Where, out here? Where everyone can see it? Or maybe you want me to dump it in the street, since there really isn’t enough space here.”
Before he could reply, Stryker took out the man holding Jacey.
Treya leaped at the alpha, knives drawn.
The battle was over in seconds.
The alpha was dead, and the bodies of his pack were scattered on the ground, some silent, some moaning. When the ones still alive attempted to gain their feet, Stryker held them immobile with his power.
Treya slid her arm around Jacey, then addressed the remaining hyena pack. “Those of you still breathing, I will leave that way, but if any of you ever come after me or mine again, you won’t find yourself so lucky. Do I make myself clear? Will I regret this decision to let you live?”
Stryker released his hold.
The men climbed to their feet, shaking their heads in answer while keeping their distance.
“Good. See that you don’t forget.” Treya smiled as Stryker joined her and Jacey.
She pulled him close as well and then, with the two people she loved more than anything in all the realms, zapped them to Stryker’s home.
“Where are we?” Jacey asked, gazing around.
“We’re at Stryker’s home,” Treya answered.
“No,” Stryker corrected. “We are at our home.”
“Our home?” Jacey asked, eyes wide with awe as he gazed at them.
Treya smiled and fingered the tech in her pocket, and knew that Stryk
er’s brother had set her up. Somehow Dom had known she was meant for his brother, and now Jacey would have the chance to finally shift into his dragon. “Yes, our home.”
About Sheri-Lynn Marean
When Sheri-Lynn wasn't bringing home stray animals, she’d pretend to race horses. As a teenager, that dream became reality. At the same time her love for reading kicked in. Sheri-Lynn discovered her niche in the vivid and exciting paranormal romance and fantasy worlds eventually creating her own stories. She writes about immortals who change into dragons, and the Dracones were born.
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Fated Match by Miranda Lynn
Chapter 1
“Six months, Scarlett. That’s how long I have been working to clear my name,” Sandy Harrington said.
“I know, Sandy, but this is the final interview. After this, you’ll be free, free of the council and all its babysitters. Then you can move forward with joining the coven.”
Sandy paced the floor of her father’s office. After his murder and the subsequent destruction of his local warlock circle then a horde of interrogations, the warlock council had voted Sandy would inherit it all—except for her father’s files, spell books, and anything else tied to his practice.
Selena was the granddaughter of Neevie, who had passed on the leadership of the coven in order to watch over all those she felt needed her guidance in Freedom. Being one of the few villages where paranormals and humans lived together in peace put them high on the list for those of both races who wanted nothing but to exterminate the other.
Not the friendliest of witches, Selena had a haughty attitude and seemed to revere herself better than others in the coven. Sandy was placed on probation and reported to Selena, the closest coven priestess to the small town of Freedom.
Sandy had never been taught about her powers or even told she had any—Selena sent Scarlett, one of the lower-level trainees, to babysit her until the investigation was finished. Her plan backfired.
Sandy and Scarlett became fast friends. She’d helped Sandy remove any sign indicating her horrible father had graced the floors of the house. The office had gone from dark, drab, and imposing, to light and airy with a hint of female dominance. Plush multi-hued gray rugs covered the wall-to-wall hardwood floors. The built-in bookcases had been sanded down and repainted with a muted silver and then glazed with a dark amber, making them have an aged but homey feel. The dark-brown leather furniture that used to dot the office had been replaced with more modern seating, accented with pillows and throws with pops of yellow and red.
Sandy replaced the old oak desk with one made of metal and glass. A new computer graced the desktop, and sheers replaced the old velvet drapes framing the window behind it, letting in every moment of sun and moonlight any witch could want. She renovated all the rooms her father decorated. What used to be a formidable and scary dwelling, transformed into an open and welcoming home.
“You’re right, Scarlett, but I am tired of having to prove myself. I am nothing like my father. Hell, I didn’t even mourn his death. Didn’t shed a tear. Yet the warlock council keeps sending people every month to ask me the same damn questions over and over. Can’t they just leave me alone and let me live my life already?” Sandy gracefully sank into the loveseat across from Scarlett.
“Hopefully, that’s what this last interview will do.” Scarlett kept her voice melodic, to soothe Sandy as she spoke. “The council said if you pass this interview, you will be released to follow your studies and join Selena’s coven. You’ll finally be able to discover what your true purpose is as a witch.”
“I don’t know which is worse, dealing with all these stuffy warlocks as they interview me or the thought of having to take orders from Selena. She has made it blatantly obvious she feels I am beneath her and not worthy of her coven’s help.”
Scarlett paused before replying, choosing her words carefully. She had learned a lot about Sandy over the past six months. The main one was Sandy had a lot of power hidden within her, possibly more than their feared coven leader. Selena wouldn’t be happy about that development, but there was nothing Scarlett could do about it. “She fears you in a way,” Scarlett said and then quickly hastened to explain. “You have a reputation that precedes you, one of a spoiled rich bitch who has had everything handed to her.” Scarlett raised her hands to stop Sandy’s reply. “I know you have changed, but many others don’t. It’s something you are going to have to prove, through practice and devotion to both the coven and coven leader.”
Scarlett decided to keep the fact of Sandy’s heritage and potential power out of the equation for now. Even though she knew Sandy well, power could change people drastically. Sandy’s father was a prime example. How Sandy dealt with the power of a pureblood witch would determine her place in or out of the coven.
Sandy hissed and rubbed the back of her right shoulder. “Dammit, that hurts. Did your birthmark change as you got older?”
“Change how?” Scarlett leaned forward, and looked at Sandy’s shoulder.
“Well, it began to itch and burn a few days ago, and this morning it glowed bright red for a minute before settling down. Now it just has a constant tingle to it. It’s hard to describe, and there seems to be something else around it—a circle—but it’s like my skin’s branded, raised and bumpy.” Sandy angled sideways and moved the shoulder of her silk blouse so Scarlett could see.
Scarlett’s breath hitched. She reached out to touch the symbol just as a knock sounded at the door. Sandy quickly covered the birthmark and stood, smoothing the cream skirt half of her Dior suit of the day.
“Enter.” Sandy’s voice had taken on the tone of the mistress of the house, her friendly tone gone, her face a mask of a cool and confident woman.
“Excuse me, Ms. Harrington, your ten o’clock is waiting for you in the study downstairs.”
“Thank you, Jeremy.” She smiled, a bit of the ice queen melting as she addressed him. “And again, thank you for staying with me.”
Jeremy bowed his head. “You are welcome, Ms. Harrington, but there is no need to thank me. Everyone deserves to be surrounded by people who believe in them.” A quick smile graced his full lips before he walked out.
Sandy hissed again and grabbed at her shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Scarlett asked. She stood and reached out to move the silk again so she could look at the mark that flared bright red.
“I have no choice but to be all right. It will be fine.” Her words were an obvious lie to the other witch.
“I’ll wait here for you.” Scarlett sat again, smoothing her hands down her jeans and picking up the newest romance novel Sandy had ordered for her.
Sandy nodded while slipping on her classic black suit jacket, making the red soles of her four-inch heels more striking. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“No rush. Be honest and try to curb your annoyance as much as you can.” Scarlett’s smoky laugh followed.
“I’ll try.” Sandy smiled and closed the office door.
Scarlett waited a few heartbeats before pulling her cell phone out. She pressed speed dial three and waited for the connection.
“Hello, Scarlett, what a wonderful surprise,” an old, wizened voice greeted with joy.
“Ms. Neevie, we have a problem,” Scarlett replied, forgoing all pleasantries.
“Oh, dear. I feared this would happen. I had so hoped my vision was wrong.” Neevie’s concern flowed through the earpiece. “Is she aware?”
“That her fated match is in the same house? No. Neevie, sh
e doesn’t even know about fated matches yet. We haven’t gotten past controlling her anger, so she didn’t set the house ablaze.”
“Who did the council send?” The sound of a swish of skirts indicated Neevie was moving, probably toward her cards.
“They didn’t announce his name when they came up.”
“You must find out, child. My vision wasn’t clear enough to see his face. Let’s just hope it’s not a Blackwood.”
Scarlett’s interest was piqued. “Why not?”
“Because, dear, the Harringtons and Blackwoods have been sworn enemies since the first Blackwood warlock was passed over for head council. The seat was given to the much younger Harrington. The Blackwoods swore then they would destroy the Harringtons no matter how long it took.”
Neevie took a breath. The rasp of cards being shuffled and dealt echoed in the silence on the line. “What happens if it is a Blackwood?” Scarlett whispered. She didn’t want to disturb Neevie’s concentration.
“Either the resurrection of peace between the covens and the council or pure destruction of all magic,” Neevie replied. “The cards are inconclusive, but Scarlett, you need to do all you can to make it a smooth courting if it is the Blackwood boy. Sandy’s temper needs to be kept reined in.” She sighed. “Our only hope is the fact Sandy is oblivious to the feud. Her father had never believed a woman would inherit the power that flowed through his body. His ignorance may be our saving grace.”
A large bang reverberated through the house, shaking books on the shelves and rattling the glass in the windows.
“Or not. Ms. Neevie, I need to go.” Scarlett sighed as she hung up the phone. “Please don’t let anything be aflame.”
Chapter 2
Sandy paused outside the heavy wooden double doors to her father’s downstairs study. The room had always been off-limits to her. Even with the new décor and open windows, she rarely entered it. It felt cold and unwelcoming as if her father’s spirit still hung in the air. She had plans to replace the heavy doors with paneled French doors, hoping they would help lessen the feeling. Sandy straightened her shoulders, shook her hands, and grasped the doorknob with purpose.