Shifters of the Wellsprings: The Complete Paranormal Collection

by Leela Ash

  And yet, it was beautiful. Elegant, with a soft, feminine delicacy she rarely let herself embrace. Standing on the cliff’s edge, with the gown whirling about her, she reveled in the strange, new sensations. For one moment, she let her life slip away along with the fears that always hounded her. Of seeming weak. Of being disrespected. Of setting an example for her Pack. For now, nothing existed except her, this gown, and the growing storm.

  Until a grouchy voice spoke up behind her. “Wonderful. I have a perfectly lousy day and then I have to dream about you.”

  Lily jumped, startled by that outburst.

  Casey Briggs stood glowering at her. Behind him lay a simple stone lean-to, a shelter from the wind’s tricks. The entire cabin was filled with an enormous feather bed. Silver lanterns hung from its ceiling and their gleams of light shimmered across the bed’s black satin sheets.

  She barely noticed. It was him, not the bed, she couldn’t tear her eyes from.

  Even in the desert heat, he favored long shirts that concealed him from her eyes. Stripped of them, clad in nothing but a black loincloth, his body lay revealed before her, a banquet spread before a starving woman.

  For some men, strength meant muscles piled on top of muscles until they turned into one beefy column. Not Casey Briggs. He was the perfect wedding of grace and power. Muscles coiled across his body, yes. And with no softness to hide them, their sharp, taut lines gave quiet witness to his strength. Etched abs, curving biceps, stole her breath away. Yet he moved with elegant ease, muscles flowing, rippling, like water.

  They weren’t the only surprise his clothes had hidden, either.

  Tattoos wove across his body. On his lower arms were the forms she’d glimpsed before. Thick lines, symbols, a sun and moon. They probably had some meaning to his Flight. Maybe they spoke of his oaths and victories in some secret Dragon tongue. To Lily, their meaning was simpler: that was a hell of a lot of blackwork – the most painful kind of tattoo. Those lines might have some ritual or religious meaning to him, but to her, they were a proud boast: Casey Briggs was not a man who shied away from pain.

  And his chest…

  Over his heart a thunderbird soared, sharp, knife-like wings spread wide. In gentler, curving lines, a horned Dragon circled it. The Native bird caught the eye and held it, painted in broad black stripes across his skin. Yet the Dragon, etched in delicate, breath-taking detail, dazed her. How many hours had he spent under the artist’s needle as every scale, every curve of that sinuous body, came to life?

  All in black. No bright colors. Just like his clothes and hair.

  “I like what my dream did to you,” she said with an approving nod. “That ink is a nice addition.”

  He jumped when she spoke. His eyes, fixed upon the curves of her breasts, jerked up to her face. “And even in my dreams you insist you’re in charge.”

  ‘His’ dream. Again.

  Lily shivered. Something was wrong. Dream figures never insisted you were a figment of their imaginations. And the details, the sensations… the wind in her hair, the hint of moisture in the wind. They were too rich, too real. She’d never had a dream like this.

  Lightning split the sky above. In its wake, she saw an enormous form, a Dragon woven of stars and darkness, stretching across the sky like the Milky Way. Thunder boomed, shockingly close. As its echoes died away, the Dragon spoke in words as loud as the storm.

  “NO CLAIM WITHOUT TRUTH!”

  No what?

  Suddenly, there was something in her hand, something cool, heavy, and smooth.

  A cup. A big-ass silver chalice. Which had, apparently, teleported out of nowhere into her hand.

  At the same time, a dagger appeared in Casey’s fist. Every drop of blood drained from his face as he stared at it. “Oh, Spirits! I know what this is. I know what’s happening…”

  Well that made one of them! Lily tossed the cup onto the bed and rounded on him. “How about you tell me what…”

  Pip! The chalice reappeared in her hand.

  Indignation lit her face. She cocked her arm and chucked it off the cliff as hard as she could.

  “Nooo!” Casey howled. “It’s sacred! Don’t…!”

  Pip! It was back.

  “What the hell!” Lily screeched at the cup. Once more, she heaved it away. The Dragon made a half-hearted leap but failed to catch it. Not that it mattered because a second later… Pip! No escape!

  Cursing and swearing, she fought the stupid thing. Scraping it, throwing it, dropping it and running away. Nothing worked. All the while, Casey yowled something about the ‘Rite of Claiming’ and sacred rituals and blah blah blah.

  If she dropped it and jumped off the cliff herself, would it reappear in mid-air?

  Before she could test that theory, a Wolf bounded out of the darkness. As tall as a pony, its ghostly form was spun from mist. Emerald eyes, bright as stars, glowed above its grey muzzle.

  Her heart knew it was an ally. “Help me!” she cried, holding out her hand.

  With flawless finesse, the Wolf nipped the cup off. Then it leaped from the cliff, running through the air, tail held high.

  This time, the cup stayed gone.

  Which drove Casey mad with grief. “What the hell have you done?” he wailed. “You’ve ruined the Rite of Claiming!”

  “Yeah, well, you tell your Dragon that the next time it decides to super-glue a cup to my paw, it better ask permission!”

  He sank to the ground and buried his face in his hands. A picture of such despair that Lily felt a twinge of remorse.

  “Hey.” She crouched beside him. “What’s going on?”

  “This was supposed to be the Rite of Claiming.”

  Some old Dragon ritual. She recalled it, vaguely, from Shifter kids’ stories. “That’s some rite Dragons do to claim a Mate, right?”

  “Yes.”

  Well, his Dragon was either stoned or stupid – because she had to be the worst potential ‘Mate’ ever! “Then they make love, right?”

  “Yes.” He still wouldn’t look at her.

  “Okay. I think we can work out a compromise here.” Now she had his attention. “I’m not big into rituals and Claims and whatnot. However, you’re hot as hell and I would love to jump your bones. So, why don’t we skip all the ritual garbage and cut straight to the sex part?”

  Her clever offer only made him sigh. “That ‘garbage’ is the Rite! It transforms a simple union into a pledge of eternal love and devotion!”

  Like that was appealing! “Look, my dad taught me that you never buy a car without taking it for a test drive first.”

  “You can’t take love for a ‘test drive’!”

  “Are you saying you love me?” Her nose wrinkled in disbelieve.

  A doubt Casey shared, because he hung his head again. “Not at the moment, no. But… I’m sorry. You don’t understand.”

  “No, I don’t – because I’m a Wolf, not a Dragon.” Her lips twitched as she fought back a grin. “Do you want to see how Wolves pick a Mate?”

  He shrugged, still lost in his own gloom.

  That was only going to make this more fun. “First, they make sure the other person is strong. No one wants a weak Mate, after all. Your word is ‘bananas.’”

  “My what?”

  Damn, he had no idea what she meant. A heat, fierce and hungry, woke inside her. “Your safe word. If anything happens you don’t like, you say that – and it ends.”

  “I don’t under…”

  Without warning, Lily pounced on him.

  The force of her leap knocked him onto his back. She landed on top and whipped her legs around his hips. As he squirmed, her grip tightened, drawing them close. The heat of his body blazed through the two thin wisps of satin, all that separated them. She felt it burn between her thighs, breathing life onto the desire that smoldered within her. Her body pressed close against his manhood and it stirred under the first lash of passion.

  Casey gasped, lips parting under the twin strokes of surprise and lust.<
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  That was her invitation. Her fingers wound through his hair, pinning him. Then she planted her lips on his. Taking him. Claiming him, as a Wolf would do. His mouth, sweet and warm, pressed against hers. Lily slipped her tongue deeper. Tasting, exploring him.

  At once, he squirmed, writhing beneath her. Such a feeble ‘struggle’ didn’t free him from the delicious prison of her legs. No, it only served to grind their bodies together. Teasing her most private parts as he rubbed his manhood against the ‘bars’ that held him.

  Her lips released him, and she buried her face in his hair. They found the lobe of his ear and sucked eagerly at it before giving him a playful nip. “I think you’re a rabbit,” she purred. “A little rabbit who needs to be…”

  With a growl, he came to life beneath her. Muscles tightened, bunched... and with one powerful thrust of his hips, he flipped her onto her back. “A rabbit, am I?”

  Now the tables were turned. His weight pressed down upon her, pinning her to the ground. His mouth sought hers, claiming her body as his prize.

  She twisted, testing the edge of his strength. Muscled arms, powerful thighs, held her; the bars of a prison she didn’t truly wish to escape. In their snare, she let herself soften.

  As her struggles ebbed, he grew bolder, more confident of her submission. His hand released its grip on her shoulder and began to explore the soft curves of her body, his conquest. It slid down her side, brushing the edge of her breast with a sly, teasing caress. Lower, to cup her buttocks. For one moment, he pulled her up, close against him. Thrusting his ever-growing cock against the folds of her gown – and what she hid beneath it. Then lower still, to slide her leg up over his hips.

  Lily’s blood sang with joy. With the fierce, passionate union of two Mates. Both strong. Both proud. How easy it would be to surrender to him. To give herself, her body, to his passion.

  Not yet. This Wolf was not so easily tamed.

  She moaned, arching her back to press herself against his tattooed chest. The slick satin of her gown whispered between them, a thin, frustrating barrier that still kept them apart. Confident that she had succumbed to the call of desire, he rose onto his elbows and sought some way to dispense with the gown’s feeble barrier.

  That was the opening she needed. Once more, she wrapped her long legs about his hips. This time, though, she bucked, pitching him onto his side. As they spun, she rolled to her feet. One hand lashed out – and caught the knot of his loincloth. A tug, as she scrambled back… and it came free in her hand.

  Leaving him, naked, staring up at her in surprise.

  “That’s the way I like my men!” With a triumphant laugh, she tossed the little shred of cloth into the air. At once, the wind snatched it up and spun it off the cliff.

  “Why you…”

  With a growl of mock outrage, he bounded to his feet and charged. Lily shrieked with delight and dodged away.

  Too slow! His hand caught a billowing fold of her gown. For one second, it held her, bound in his grasp, unable to escape. Then, caught between two forces it could not resist, the satin tore. With the primal, passionate sound of ripping cloth, he tore the dress from her straining body.

  Wild longing filled her as he stripped her with that one powerful, irresistible stroke. Now, wind swept across her bare skin. Freed from its cloth prison, her body burned with desire. Damp with yearning, some part of her longed for consummation.

  Yet still her Wolfish spirit could not submit. Would not abandon the play of love – quite yet.

  As Casey tossed the remnants of her gown away, she dodged around him. Her laughter taunting, begging him to follow her.

  But he was fast, her Dragon. Like a striking serpent, he caught her as she leaped past. Arms like steel bands held her, pulled her back… and then lifted her into the air. Tossing her onto his shoulder, as if she weighed no more than the shreds of cloth that flittered off in the wind.

  Delighted, she struggled. Kicking. Pounding her fists against his back as he strode toward the shelter and its broad bed. Laughing all the while, with sheer joy at his passion. At the feverish hunger, the haste with which he swept aside all her struggles.

  He flung her onto the bed. Its downy expanse caught her, cushioned her. She scrambled to her knees in one last teasing attempt to escape. But Casey swooped down upon her. Catching her. Holding her. Refusing to let this game deny the thirst they both felt, any longer.

  Now, she surrendered. To his strength. To her own desire. She had tested her Mate’s power – and he did not disappoint.

  All that remained was union. To join their bodies in the song, the dance of passion.

  Wrapped around her, his hands began to explore her body. Slowly, with unhurried strokes, he took possession of her. They cupped her breasts, gently squeezing, his thumbs circling her aureoles. Every time they whispered across her nipples, she felt herself grow hungrier, more eager. Now, his kisses swept across her shoulders and up along the nape of her neck as he nuzzled aside her short brown curls.

  Back arched, eyes closed, Lily gave herself to that pleasure. She could feel the hardness of his cock pressed against the damp eagerness of her sex. Sliding across the slick hairs. Teasing her, taunting her. Not yet ready to claim the treasure that lay within.

  One hand abandoned the pleasure of her breasts and glided lower. Stroking her stomach. Slipping down along her thigh. Then rising back up to the cleft between her legs. With a gasp, she felt his finger slip between the folds of her damp flesh. Seeking, and finding, the nub of her pleasure.

  Slowly, surely, he stroked her. Waves of pleasure flooded through her as his finger slipped back and forth. Lily moaned, a harsh, animal cry of need – and felt his cock stiffen, ram-hard, at the sound of her yearning. Shivers swept her body as his caresses grew stronger. Her hips thrusted, grinding against him. Every lash maddened her, made her yearn for him to take her.

  Desire burned through her, threatening to overwhelm. With a gasp, she pulled away, fearful that she would lose herself. Sensing no tricks, no rebellion, he let her go. She rolled onto her back and gazed up at him. Hard and masculine, towering above her, his cock jutting proudly into the air. Passion’s promise – made flesh.

  Panting, their eyes locked. Then she slid her legs wide and welcomed him.

  Gently, with perfect control, he lowered himself. Lily felt the length of his long cock slide into her. Filling her, claiming her. She quivered with the sheer joy of holding him inside herself. Claiming him, too, in her own feminine way.

  One moment he paused, deep within her.

  It was one moment longer than she could bear. With a cry of pure, animal need, Lily dug her fingers into the bedsheets.

  That cry, that craving, shattered his proud control. A longing as deep, as endless, as hers swept through him. With a moan, he thrust again and again. Ecstasy swallowed her and her cries; her yearning drove him onward. Faster and faster, each thrust driving them both further into passion’s embrace.

  Until, with a wail of exquisite joy, she came. Another stroke, another, and a third. Holding that moment, that pinnacle of ecstasy, for one second longer. Then he came, flooding her with his seed.

  Panting and exhausted, he collapsed by her side. Lily curled up against him, the sweat of their bodies merging in the desert night.

  And for once, she offered no jokes, no play. Fulfilled, satisfied in both heart and soul, she curled against her lover’s side until she awoke.

  Chapter 5.

  With a rush of adrenaline, Casey awoke – in a new world.

  For a moment, he lay still, floating in the river of new emotions that flowed over him. His Dragon, normally so stern and distant, thrummed with delight. Passion left his body languid and fulfilled. Last night, he had fallen asleep, unaware of the hole torn in his soul. This morning, he awoke, healed and whole. Like a blind man who could suddenly see, he understood – for the first time – how beautiful the world could be.

  Because of her. That wild, gorgeous, passionate creature.


  Who would have guessed that she held such potential under her rough exterior? Casey smiled as he pulled his pants on. She was a diamond in the rough, to be sure. It would take a great deal of work to polish her, to grind off her flaws and make her worthy of the honor his Dragon had bestowed upon her. But he held no doubts, about her or her spirit animal. Beneath that leather-clad exterior, that childish rebellion and mad risk-taking, he would find Lily King’s true self: a Dragon’s Mate.

  He rapped gently on the door between their rooms.

  “Come in.”

  Her words, still rough with sleep, set his blood racing. That was his Mate, half of his soul, calling to him. He’d intended to speak to her. To discuss their future and what needed to be done. But perhaps the best way to celebrate their union was to repeat the night’s ecstasy. The heat that flared in his manhood assured him that yes, he was up to that task. And what better way to honor her than to give her pleasure yet again?

  Lily sat by the window, cradling a cup of the motel’s cheap instant coffee. Sleep had left her hair deliciously tousled and her t-shirt clung to the curves of her breasts, stirring his desire even further. Yet fatigue lined her delicate face and she did not smile when he entered the room.

  All his plans and speeches faded away. Leaving him unsure what to do as the Wolf watched him, guarded and wary.

  “How are you?” he managed at last.

  “Okay.” She shrugged. “Thinking.”

  No doubt she, too, recognized the enormity of the task ahead of them. In the old days, humans had ‘finishing schools’, places where young women studied how to behave like proper ladies. Such schools had gone the way of the buffalo. Without them, where did a person even start?

  He didn’t know… but he wanted to reassure her that they were in this together. Taking the seat near her, he offered his warmest smile. “I imagine this is a lot to process.”

  “Yeah.” She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but she seemed calm. “Lot of things to think about.”

  Such a relief to know that she realized the extent of her problem! “I want you to know that I will help you.”

  “Help me with what?”