by Fox, Piper
I vanish my goblet. “Not necessarily,” I venture. “Though…you are all so uniquely beautiful, and different, that it would seem a shame to sample but one flavour.” I feel the wolf’s predatory heat intensify.
“You intrigue me, Nixian,” he responds after a time.
“The winter is intriguing,” I answer.
“You have kept us all at such a distance for so long, yet now…”
“It’s different.”
“Indeed.”
“I can’t explain it,” I say earnestly. “But to whom would I owe such a thing?”
“You need not explain yourself to anyone, Winter Queen,” says Arcanus. “To be a part of the Winter Court is an honour, as it is to merely Serve you. Anything more is like unto…”
“A dream?” interrupts a second male voice.
Arcanus and I turn our gaze as one towards Dracon.
The wolf prince takes measure of the ocean-eyed dragon prince. “I do so love when another finishes a sentence for me.”
“Consider it my pleasure, Wolf,” Dracon says, before taking my hand and kissing it. “You are a splendour to behold, as ever, my queen.”
I hold the dragon shifter’s eye as his lips withdraw and he stands upright once more. “Intriguing timing,” I observe.
“Most intriguing,” he agrees.
I bite my inner lip in thought. Wolf or dragon? An impossible choice. And yet, the choice is entirely obvious. Why choose at all? I want them both—I want them all.
“Let’s take some air shall we?” I ask.
The two males eye one another, some unspoken accord passing between them.
“After you, my queen,” says Arcanus.
With two ancients tailing me I skirt the dance floor. I almost step past the bear shifter, but stop short, shoulder to shoulder. “Join me,” I whisper. Ursus does not so much as smile, nor does he smirk, but his intense, pitch black eyes tell me all I need to know in a single heartbeat. I trail past—a feeling of power resonating through me—and leave the dance and it’s festivities in my wake. The night beyond the Winter Palace beckons.
* * *
An aurora of vibrant green, magenta, and cyan blue stretches out across the sky, swaying and swirling as if it were living and breathing. I catch myself, and smile. It likely is. Nothing in this magnificent and enchanted world would surprise me, anymore. Perhaps the aurora is every bit as corporeal as I am? An ancient spirit of the vast sky, with sisters of her own? I can shift into any form I desire, from the humble frost mouse, to the beautiful snowy owl; from a majestic ice dragon, to a howling storm racing across the barren tundras and high snow-capped mountains. But to soar high above the world like that? A rainbow of colour, dancing among the stars? I sigh at the beauty of it.
Behind me the ancient princes keep a polite distance. I wonder what they are thinking. Are they intimidated? Unsure? Within the icy walls of the palace it seemed like they were fighting for my attention, trying to assert their dominance—except for my bear, my Ursus. The reticent, dutiful, and cool part of who I am appreciates his patience. I sense in him a deep well of strength, but it is not an ardent, flouncing sort. It’s the strength of the mountains. Silent, immovable, and reliable. He knows he doesn’t have to vie for my attention. I love that, too. The understated confidence. It makes my pulse quicken just to think on it.
Leaving scarcely a foot print in the fresh snow I reach my desired destination. A secluded grove within my expansive winter gardens. I turn to my princes and they stop as one. I take a deep breath in, and then slowly let it out. They are devastatingly handsome. I feel myself tremble as the warmth of their communal desire crests and crashes over me.
“I don’t know what I want, exactly,” I begin, suddenly more nervous than I can ever remember being. I lick my lips and try to centre myself. “But I do know I want you,” I say. “All three of you.” I don’t know what reaction I was expecting. All I know is that I had to make the declaration, had to give voice to my desire before it bubbled over, and boiled me away into nothing more than a breath of frost on the breeze.
The princes exchange glances, no doubt speaking to one another mind to mind. Each singular moment feels like a lifetime, and I feel a tightening in my chest. After so long spent keeping all my potential suitors at arm’s length, are they having second thoughts? Can they sense the dizzying mix of fear and lust warring within me?
“I know I’ve been an ice queen in more than just name,” I continue as they approach, a literal wall of breath-stealing masculinity. “But I just need you, now. I don’t want to be alone anymore. And don’t think for a moment that you can make me choose, because I won’t. I can’t. I don’t want to.”
My wolf, dragon, and bear surround me.
“And the Winter Queen shall have what she desires,” says Arcanus.
I shiver as his finger lifts my chin, his lips just a breath away. I find my lips parting in wanting, and I hang, as if suspended by his finger.
“Our queen can have the world, if she so desires it,” whispers Dracon into my ear.
And then, just like that, my head is tipping back, leaning towards the heat of his voice.
“We will love you, protect you, and Serve you in any way you wish,” says Ursus, his hot lips alighting upon the exposed flesh of my throat.
I open my eyes and drink them all in. “I’m…” I feel hands sliding over my sides to grip my hips. I swallow hard.
“You were saying?” smiles Arcanus, that delicious, tell-tale mischief in his golden eyes.
“I’m afraid,” I manage to finish. “I am the Winter Queen, and yet, the three of you…you make my heart gallop, and my insides ache with wanting.”
“Then we’re doing something right,” quips Dracon, a hand sliding up to cup my breast. His thumb teases my nipple through the thin fabric of my garment, and I shudder.
“You need not be afraid of us, my queen,” says Arcanus.
“It is we who live in fear of your beauty, and power,” whispers Ursus into my skin, his lips gently grazing my collar bone.
Arcanus takes my face in his hands. His golden orbs, and sensual lips mesmerising. “Let us worship you, my queen,” he beseeches me. “Let us show you what you have been missing.”
“You’ll never have to be alone, again,” whispers Dracon, his teeth teasing my ear lobe.
I sense my knees weakening as Ursus’ hand trails over the front of my thigh, before I feel his fingers delving between my legs, and I find myself lamenting the silken, glittering skirt that lies between them and my aching intimacy.
I gasp against Arcanus lips. His smile melts me.
“Will you accept us, my queen? Say ‘yes’, and we will put the world at your feet.”
My legs buckle, but the three pairs of hands hold me fast.
“Nixian…”
“Yes,” I sigh. “Be mine. Please, or I will surely die.”
“There’ll be no dying on our watch,” says Arcanus as he crushes his lips against mine. Despite my most queenly reservations my body shivers and bucks against the fingers and hands that work in unison against me. No. Not against me…for me.
“Not here,” commands Dracon, his voice like rolling thunder. “My lair.”
And then the world shifts, and I’m swept away on the winds of winter with three ancient princes, and a fire between my thighs that not even an eternal winter could vanquish.
To Be Continued...
* * *
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Saving Patrick
A Cougar Shifters Novella
Tricia Schneider
About Saving Patrick
Jo is searching for peace. She wants to start a new life, away from her abusive ex husband. Patrick has dealt with a traumatic past as a shifter and is ready to move on with his life. He’s searching for something, but he doesn’t know what.
When these two long-time friends find each other again one full moon night, can they reconnect and possibly discover a love that was there all along?
Prologue
The first time Jo saw Patrick, he’d turned into a mountain lion. It was shocking for a ten-year-old to witness. She’d been reading her favorite book series, sitting in the little window seat with the pink cushions that her dad had made for her, when she’d seen the boy enter the empty house next door.
The neighbors who’d lived there, the Johnson’s, had moved out months ago. A few couples had visited the place looking to buy it, but Jo overheard her father telling her mother that no one was ever going to buy a place that needed a new roof and all those costly repairs. Not for that price.
At first, Jo thought the boy was part of a family who had come to look at the house. The sight of him sparked interest. It would be nice if another kid moved in next door. He looked to be a few years older than her, but still close enough in age to be friends.
Jo watched him move throughout the house, going from room to room. There were no curtains in any of the windows. From the angle of Jo’s window seat, she could see into several of the house’s rooms on the first, second and a bit of the third floor. She watched the boy with curious fascination as he inspected the house.
When at last he had searched through every room, he went back to the second floor. He chose the last room in the back, a small bedroom with navy-blue painted walls. He stood in the center of the room for several long minutes simply staring at the floor. Jo wondered why he stood so long. Was he meditating? She’d didn’t know quite what meditation was, but she’d heard her mother talk about it with her friends on the phone a couple of times.
Jo was getting bored watching the boy stand there. She was about to go back to her reading when he suddenly moved. The boy dropped to the floor, landing on his hands and knees. Jo sat up straight, leaning to get a better look through the window as the boy’s body began to shake.
She opened her mouth to call for her dad, for certainly the boy must be sick that he collapsed in such a way, but the words died in her throat when she saw his arms jerk in an odd angle.
She’d never seen an arm move in such a way. Surely, it must be painful. Quickly, the boy removed his shirt, his mouth open in a silent cry.
Jo’s book slid forgotten from her lap as she watched the boy’s ribs shudder beneath his pale skin. Like an ocean wave, the boy’s rib bones flowed outward, stretching so tightly against his skin Jo thought they might pop through.
With agony etched on his face, he removed the rest of his clothes, tossing his shoes across the room with such anger it surprised Jo he hadn’t broken a window with them. The rest of his clothes followed. She only glimpsed a moment of his nakedness before he crouched onto the floor, huddled into a ball of rippling bone against skin.
Never in her life had she’d seen such an event. Not even in the movies.
She pressed her hands to the window, again opening her mouth to yell for her dad, for anyone to go help the boy, but again she was silenced by the sight of him. This time, something sprouted from his skin. Across his entire body, thick, yellowish hair grew in an instant. At the same moment, his face contorted, and a tail emerged from the bottom of his spine.
The entire episode lasted mere minutes, but for Jo and the boy it seemed an eternity. When it was done, Jo watched a large, tawny colored cat pace the room where the boy had once been.
She recognized the animal from the pictures she’d seen in her animal books and that time her parents took her to the zoo.
The boy had turned into a mountain lion.
After pacing the room several times, the large cat padded toward the door and into the hallway where he disappeared from sight for a few minutes. He reappeared, trotting down the stairs to the first floor. He wasted no time in moving toward the back of the house where he emerged onto the back porch. In seconds, the mountain lion darted across the backyard, racing into the woods behind their home.
Jo stared agape, long after the animal disappeared, not quite believing her eyes. After some time, she scrambled from her window seat, grabbing her shoes to jam onto her bare feet, and then hurried from her room.
She ran downstairs, passing her mother in the kitchen to race outside into her backyard. Beyond her swing set stood the forest that bordered their backyard. The thick green trees stretched for miles, covering gently sloped mountains and valleys before disappearing into patches of farmland.
She stared into the trees, squinting her eyes to watch for any sign of movement. There was none. Whatever she’d seen, the boy who was a mountain lion, had disappeared into the forest.
Jo turned to look at the house next door. Without a word to her mother, she ran onto the neighbor’s property, jumping onto the back porch to find the kitchen door opened wide. Already knowing what she’d find inside, Jo raced through the house, taking the stairs to the second floor two at a time. In the back bedroom with the navy-blue painted walls, she found the boy’s clothes strewn across the floor, just as he’d left them.
Jo stared at the scene for several long minutes, her brain still attempting to process what she’d seen. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the door frame, leaning heavily against it, still staring at the clothes.
He’d be back.
Surely, he’d come back for his clothes.
Wouldn’t he?
Or was the boy now a mountain lion forever? Had she witnessed such a transformation that could never be undone? Had he disappeared within the forest to live the rest of his days in the wild?
The only way she’d ever know for certain was if she waited for his return.
Jo had to know if what she witnessed was real. A boy who could shift into an animal. How had it happened? How was it done? Could she do it, too?
Was it a magical spell? A curse? Or science? Some strange medication that could convert humans into animals. Or was he an alien?
Jo read a lot of books. She also watched a lot of television. Anything was possible.
But she wanted to know.
She remained in the house for several long hours before she heard her mother calling for her. In the time she spent in the navy-blue room, she’d taken the boy’s clothes and folded them neatly before placing them on the floor beside the window. She grabbed his shoes and set them next to the bundle of clothing. She didn’t want his clothes to be wrinkly when he returned.
At the sound of her mom’s voice, Jo knew she couldn’t stay any longer. She had to go home for supper.
“What were you doing in the Johnson’s house?” Her mother asked when Jo emerged from the neighbor’s house.
“Playing,” Jo said. She didn’t want to tell her mother what she’d seen just yet. She wanted to speak with the boy first. Besides, she didn’t think her mother or father would believe her when she told them she’d seen a boy turn into an enormous cat.
“You shouldn’t be over there,” her mother admonished with a click of her tongue. “I’ve told you that before.”
Jo simply nodded, then washed her hands to get ready for supper. All the while, she kept glancing out the windows facing the Johnson’s house, expecting to see movement as sign of the boy’s return.
It took two days for the boy to return. In all that time, Jo kept a constant vigil at her
bedroom window. When she saw the tawny fur flash from the corner of her eye, she sat up straight, pressing her nose to the glass to get a better look as the mountain lion lingered near the tree line for several long minutes before darting across the yard toward the neighboring house.
Once he was inside, Jo hurried from her room. She crossed the backyard in no time to reach the neighbor’s porch. Only after she entered the Johnson’s old house did she wonder if her decision to confront the boy was a wise one. He was now a mountain lion. A wild animal. Would he attack?
She slowed her steps as she walked through the yellow kitchen and into the hallway that led to the front of the house. There she hesitated at the bottom of the stairway leading to the second floor.
There was no sign of the boy or animal. Again, that urge to know the truth of what she’d seen compelled her to move forward. She took to the stairs, one at a time, listening intently for sounds of movement.
At the top of the stairs, she heard low, guttural grunts coming from the back of the house, near the bedroom with the navy-blue walls.
Her heart pounded with fear. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Her breathing was shallow, as if she’d just run for miles.
Jo stepped softly onto the carpeted floor as she approached the bedroom. Once near the doorway, she leaned forward hesitantly, preparing to run as fast as she could back the way she came if the animal attacked.
But the boy and the animal were in no condition to attack.
The sight would forever remain in her memory.
It was just as she’d seen through the window two days ago, only in reverse. Pale skin consumed the tawny fur of the mountain lion. His long swishing tail shrank within the boy’s back, and the large pads of his paws mutated into human hands and feet. His face, the face of a large cat with short snout and whiskers scrunched and twisted until a human nose, mouth and eyes emerged.