by D. F. Jones
“What are you thinking about?”
“You,” he said simply, reaching out to help her sit with him on the rock. She’d been moving a little gingerly, lately. He had a suspicion she was worn out—all the more reason to take some time to themselves.
“Boring,” she scoffed, though her eyes were glowing with affection. “God, I’ll never get sick of this view.”
“Me neither,” he said softly, gazing down over the valley where the river disappeared into a thick stand of trees. “It’s such a perfect place.”
They ate together in companionable silence, just staring out over the trees. That was something he adored about Reagan—something else on the long, long list—the way silence with her felt as effortless and comfortable as being silent when he was alone. But as they finished their sandwiches, he could sense something a little different about her. There was a kind of spark in the air as she gazed down at the valley below them. He tried to be patient, but she could clearly sense his curious eyes on her because she shot him a sidelong look.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I invited you up here, alone.”
“Well, I had a few theories. Usually, when you want me alone, it’s in our chambers—”
She laughed, pushing at his shoulder. “One-track mind. No, it’s not that.” Her eyes glowed. “Though it’s connected.”
“What?”
Reagan took a deep breath. “I wanted to spend this time alone with you. Because—well, in a little while, our alone time is going to be at a premium.”
He stared at her, not understanding, until he saw her hand resting ever so lightly on her abdomen. Stephen looked at her hand, then back at her face, then her hand, then her face—and she was clearly holding back her laughter as a wondering smile broke out across his face.
“A child?”
“Not quite,” she said—and he blinked hard, feeling an odd sense of whiplash.
“No? But—”
“Try children,” she said softly. “I’ve been with the healers this morning, Stephen. Twins. Twin boys, they’re almost certain. I was thinking Alexander and Samuel. What do you think?”
He was reeling. All he could do was nod—to wordlessly reach out and pull her into his arms, dizzy laughter breaking out of him. Children. Children!
“Just when I was thinking I was already the luckiest man on the planet,” he murmured into her ear, hearing her chuckle in response. “God. Twins. I can’t wait.”
“I love you,” Reagan said softly. She always sounded a little shy when she said that. It was a rare glimpse of vulnerability from his otherwise tough-as-nails Queen, and he treasured these little moments. He took her into his arms and kissed her, knowing that it would take the rest of his life and then some to tell her how much he loved her in return—and looking forward to every single day of it.
About Kayla Wolf
Kayla Wolf is a mom of two, an obsessive reader, and a total sucker for paranormal romance. Sexy shifters, sassy women, steamy encounters, and dangerous enemies are the things that make her lie awake at night. Whenever she thinks about these things, she just has to get up and write about them immediately... Come on in, and spoil the beast in you.
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Also by Kayla Wolf
"Married off to the Dragon" is a short prequel to my "Dragon Valley" series. The series consists of full-length novels about dangerously hot dragons.
Read all about Alexander, Samuel, and all the other dragons in the valley here:
https://wolfsistersbooks.com/books/dragon-valley/
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“Dragon Valley” Series
Dragon Valley keeps a secret that no one knows about: Dangerously sexy and muscled dragons have made the valley their home. But their existence is at risk. They need to find a mate or else their time might be up. Will they succeed? “Dragon Valley” is a paranormal romance series that consists of standalone stories that each have a satisfying HEA. The books are connected through the dragons that live in the valley.
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Mated to the Dragon
Protected by the Dragon
Auctioned to the Dragon
Kidnapped by the Dragon
Guards to the Dragon
Marked by the Dragon
Hunted by the Dragon
Claimed by the Dragon
Fox Trap by Margo Bond Collins
A Shifter Romance
Chapter 1
Tristan Todd
I should have seen the trap.
I ran through the woods, weaving past trees in the dark. The silvery-blue moonlight reflecting off the snow provided more than enough illumination for my eyes, as they were more sensitive in my fox form. I could see where I was going.
But I had been on the run for weeks, shifting from fox to human and back again, with never enough time to sleep and barely enough to eat in my flight from the hell that hunted me. I was exhausted and worn, and I knew Maeve’s minions were going to catch up with me at any minute.
I could hear them behind me, their evil cackles echoing through the Colorado forest.
I’d ended up here almost by chance, following some instinct that told me to take ever-higher ground. I needed to be able to get the drop on these sons-of-bitches. But I had no idea how.
As I ran, I watched for the glints of moonlight off their oversized, fully black eyes, for the hint of motion in their white-against-snow skin and clothing. I was far too busy looking for them to pay attention to where I was going.
So when I landed in a bear trap, I didn’t have enough time to leap back out before it closed on me. I was fast—shifter-fast. But not fast enough. It clamped shut on my left hind leg. I heard the clank of the trap slamming at the same moment I felt the bone snap in two. Agonizing pain whipped through me, and I screamed, my fox voice bouncing back off the walls of the mountains around me in some directions, muffled by the snow in others.
The elves laughed and then hissed as they stepped into the small clearing where I lay incapacitated. If I had simply tripped and broken a limb, it would’ve been all over then. But Maeve kept purebloods around her, and this trap was made of iron. That was my only saving grace—they couldn’t get to me. Not while I was caught in the trap.
I needed to change into my human shape as soon as possible and do what I could to get away. But it would take a lot of energy, and right now, the pain was too fresh. I had to carefully weigh the cons of staying in the trap, lying injured in the cold and snow, as opposed to shifting and removing myself from the one thing holding them at bay.
And right now, I was in too much agony to make any sense of my options.
I can’t go to sleep. If I die out here, everything I fought for will have been for nothing. I worked to keep my eyes open, to focus on the power I needed to shift.
The elves were circling, coming in closer and closer, their circle contracting. Like other natives of the forest, they blended in easily. And these elves were from the Winter Court, so the snow and ice acted as additional camouflage for their pale faces and dark eyes.
In the distance, I heard the rumble of an engine. There weren’t many vehicles up here, but it was coming this direction. The elves paused, their leader cocking his head to listen.
“Human,” he hissed, his lip curling up.
Some of the fae could pass for humans themselves, even when they were in their natural form. The Winter Court elves weren’t among them. This elf was tall and thin, his limbs too long, his knees prone to bending in the wrong direction, like a marionette’s or a grasshopper’s. Add to that his stark white skin, silver braids, and all-black, iris-less eyes, and he looked more like a giant, albino praying mantis than a person.
He was one of Maeve’s warriors, a hunter, one who’d been sent out to gather up all the kitsunes he could find and drag us in. His queen wanted to use our blood to help fuel her rise to power.
I was still figuring
out how that worked when this one had gotten wind of me and set out to catch me.
My only choice had been to flee, moving in the opposite direction of my family and my clan in order to draw off the elves.
Now the hunter flicked one overly long finger in a gesture that apparently meant something along the lines of an order to withdraw. All of his fellow elves melted away into the forest as the vehicle drew closer. Its rumbling engine stopped not terribly far away. I hesitated to cry out to whoever it was. But perhaps if I could change into my human form, I could request help. I would have no answer for why a naked man was caught in a bear trap in the woods, but it was better than dying at the hands of the Winter Court queen.
When I heard the door slam, I let out a howl.
Chapter 2
Mary Kendrick
I hadn’t planned to go into the woods that snowy winter’s night.
I’d been in town attending the winter festival the town put on every year. Not for the first time since I moved here, I found myself feeling more alone in a crowd of people than I ever did by myself in my tiny one-bedroom cabin up on the mountain.
Not that the people of Assumption, Colorado, weren’t perfectly friendly. They always were. I’d left the festival with a bag full of tiny gifts people in the various booths and at the indoor stations had been handing out.
But I didn’t have any real friends in Assumption yet, even though I’d been here for more than two years. I mean, I knew plenty of people to say hello to when I was in town—but very few to stop and chat with for any length of time.
Unless you counted Sheriff Bingley. And really, all we ever did was talk shop.
I was still feeling a sense of loneliness when I got in my Jeep to head back home. I spent much of the drive considering why that might be—normally, I liked my own company just fine. Even better since I’d left my job as a Dallas cop and moved to the Rocky Mountains, where I ran an online consulting business from my one-bedroom cabin.
I enjoyed the solitude of the woods.
But that didn’t mean I didn’t want someone to spend time with occasionally.
Anyone other than the poachers who showed up from time to time.
My cabin sat on part of an old silver mine claim. I owned the mine, the claim, and the cabin, as well as all the land around it. I don’t know what the previous owner’s understanding had been with the kinds of poachers who regularly made their way past the boundaries through Colorado’s forested land, but as far as I was concerned, hunters were not welcome on my property.
My lack of enthusiasm for them, however, did not stop most of them from turning up anyway. Since the first time I had found a maimed rabbit in a trap, I had begun posting Do Not Trespass signs. When that didn’t work, I began doing semiregular sweeps through the parts of the woods that were actually mine.
I’d learned to recognize the different kinds of traps when I went out for my long walks. I had gotten good at disarming the metal contraptions and gathering them up to hand over to Sheriff Bingley.
I planned to take the night off from patrolling, though. All I really wanted to do was curl up by my fireplace with a hot drink and a book.
But as I passed the first turn-off onto my property, I spun the steering wheel to guide my Jeep onto the bumpy drive almost unconsciously. My cabin was farther up the mountain.
This drive would take me to some of the poachers’ favorite hunting grounds.
When I first moved up here, I’d discovered an old trailhead winding its way up through the woods, crisscrossing in and out of my land. It seemed to be a fairly regular path used by poachers. I was always careful to watch for other people when I took it. I rarely checked it this late, though.
I’ll just do a quick sweep of the first two clearings, I promised myself.
When I parked and stepped out of the Jeep, however, out of the woods came a noise like nothing I’d heard before, a high-pitched sound somewhere between a scream and a yowl.
I jumped, startled, and pulled the pistol I still carried out of the glove compartment, where I had left it during the festival.
I hoped I wasn’t about to come upon an injured cougar. Or bear. Idiot poachers are likely to catch anything in the traps.
I took the holster belt I kept in the back of the Jeep and strapped it on. If it was nothing, I could holster the weapon. But for now, I was keeping it drawn.
I moved slowly up the path, every step sounding louder than the previous one as it crunched into the snow, certain to scare off any wildlife around. Except maybe the cougar or bear.
As I stepped into the first clearing, the moon moved out from behind a cloud, illuminating the scene before me.
A large fox—bigger than the ones I was used to catching glimpses of now and then in the forest—had been caught in a bear trap. It lay on the snow, panting. The leg in the trap was bent at an awkward angle, almost certainly broken.
Its chest heaved with rapid breaths.
I didn’t think a fox that torn up could survive.
Damn those poachers. Tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m going to have to put you out of your misery, I’m afraid.”
The animal opened his eyes and looked up at me, and for a split second, I could’ve sworn I saw an almost human intelligence there. But then they clouded over again and closed.
I hated this part of cleaning up after poachers who couldn’t be bothered to put out traps that either killed cleanly or caught the animals alive without hurting them.
I’d left Dallas because I couldn’t stand what people do to people. Out here, I couldn’t stand what they did to animals.
I sighed. “I’m so sorry.”
But just as I was about to pull the trigger, the fox’s entire shape flickered. I stopped and blinked twice, closing my eyes tightly for a second and shaking my head to see if I could figure out what had just happened.
And that’s when the fox turned into a naked man.
Chapter 3
Tristan
When she’d entered the clearing, I had stared at her, shimmering in the moonlight. I couldn’t tell what she was. She wasn’t one of the monstrous elves who had been chasing me, though she almost glowed like they did.
She wasn’t one of the kinds of supernaturals I knew about. Not a shifter, and not one of the darker creatures like the bloodsuckers, or the other monsters that prey upon the weak.
All of this flashed through my mind in an instant.
Then she’d turned her gun on me. She was going to shoot me. If I’d been in my human form, I would have laughed at the irony. I had spent so much time and effort running from the creatures hunting me, and now I was going to be put down like a wounded animal by someone who was doing it out of kindness.
Humans. They never did the right thing, even when they were trying to.
If I died, my family would never know what happened to me—and worse, they’d be at risk from the very same evil elves I was trying to save them from. As long as the elves hunted me, the rest of my clan stayed hidden.
So I put all my effort into one final chance, despite my exhaustion. I knew shifting now was dangerous. I could die from it. I needed to sleep, to rest first. And part of me even thought one instant of agony with the bullets might be worth the permanent rest afterwards.
If I shifted, there would be no rest—my leg bone would heal and break again inside the trap.
But I had to give it one last try in the hopes she wouldn’t shoot me. So I closed my eyes and reached down inside myself, circling into the place that held my fox and my human selves, and I pulled as hard as I could.
Something inside me snapped when I tugged at the power, the result as sharp and painful as the broken bone in my leg.
There wasn’t much left, maybe just enough to give her a glimpse of my other form. I didn’t think I could manage a whole shift. I wrapped all the energy around myself and opened my eyes to match my gaze with hers. I could feel it working, feel the change flowing through my very cells. I imagined them bumping into on
e another, like blood cells under a microscope. Rushing through the channels that existed for them to get to their designated places.
I felt it when they snapped into formation, moving into the configuration for human and out of the one for fox.
The woman froze, her eyes huge. I held the form for one heartbeat. Two…three. Pushing the whole time against my cells’ desire to slide back into fox.
As soon as the hand holding the gun dropped down to her side, I heaved a sigh and let go. As soon as I no longer strained to hold it, my human shape slipped away, like melting snow, disappearing into the ground around me, leaving only the fox behind. As I’d expected, my leg snapped again, and I yelped once against my will.
“What the hell was that?” the woman muttered to herself, and I knew she meant my human form, not the sound of pain I’d made. She blinked and passed her hand over her eyes.
All around me, Maeve’s warriors whispered, their voices shuddering through the forest like wind through the leaves.
Not true. Not real. Not yours. Ours.
Normally, from what I’d seen, that whispering was enough to push a human’s thinking in a certain direction.
But this woman was made of sterner stuff.
Or maybe more supernatural stuff.
As I looked at her now, the strange bluish glow I had seen in the beginning had disappeared. She just looked like any normal human.
But I was certain there was more to her than what I was seeing now.
Especially when she whipped around at the sound of one of the elves slipping through the forest behind her. “Who’s out there?” She turned again. “You cannot hunt on this land.”