Ceana awoke with a jolt. Breathing hard, she looked from Ian’s slumbering, naked body to the sunrise. The rays were just beginning to peek over the horizon. Panicked, she turned back to look at Ian once more. He was gorgeous, the soft orange glow of morning caressing his tanned flesh. A small, almost lecherous smile curled the sides of his lips, but his eyes were closed.
Her heart beat heavily in her chest. She didn’t want to leave him, but with the sunrise she had no choice. It wouldn’t do to be discovered as a mermaid on land. She’d be unable to defend herself and the surface air would dry out her fins, causing great pain.
Besides, what would Ian do if he discovered what she was?
She licked her lips, wanting to kiss him. But, did she dare wake him to say goodbye? At the thought, her heart twinged and she felt tears stinging her eyes. Ceana didn’t want to say goodbye. She was tired of the ocean, of swimming, of leaving. She wanted to stay on land.
Touching a lock of his sand-caked hair, she mouthed, “Until another life, sweet man wolf.”
What more was there to say?
Ceana stood, having no intention of waking him. Let him think her a dream, or a one-night stand. She didn’t want him looking for her in the sea, didn’t want him to know what she was—a cursed mermaid. Her stomach knotted as the sadness overwhelmed her, and as she walked the pain seared her deep inside. It didn’t matter. She could well live with the ache for the memory of creating it would last forever.
The wind blew her dry hair, knocking the granules of sand off her body. The salty smell of the ocean was all around, punctuated by the call of birds. In the distance, rocks jutted out of the water. She hadn’t seen them in the night, but now their outlines grew clearly up from the watery surface. Seashells, sand dollars and long strings of seaweed lined the shoreline, having been washed up in the night. There was even a shark’s tooth, its black outline stark against the bleached sand. Stepping into a tidal pool, she purposefully missed a starfish. Leaning over, she picked it up and tossed it back out into the water where it would be safe from beachcombers. She did the same with a few live sand dollars.
Turning around, she saw Ian was still asleep, his godlike body sprawled out on the sand. The cold ocean hit her feet. She couldn’t put it off much longer. It was time to go home, to her sunken ship beneath the waves where she could pretend to sit in her captain’s chair and stare at the little items she’d collected over the years.
Her body straight, Ceana walked into the ocean. The waves cleaned her even as they wetted her hair. Her flesh tingled and she dove under the waves, curling her arms as she swam away from shore. She waited for her skin to change, for the fins to take over her body once more. Not thinking, she just kept going as she always did after the full moon. The water couldn’t hurt her. Nothing could hurt her.
Suddenly, a cramp seized her leg. She gulped, stopping in the middle of the deep water to grab her side. Kicking, she tried to stay on the surface. But the more she kicked, the more her body tired. Ceana drifted down beneath the water, staring at her legs in shock. There was still two. Where were her fins? Her tail? Her gills? What was happening to her? She spread her arms wide, fighting back up to take breath. She’d swum far away from shore. The sun was peeking over the horizon, almost a full globe.
“Help.” The sound was a whisper as she pumped her arms and legs. She started to cry. “Help!”
She was going to drown and something told her that this time there would be no coming back. Instinct kicked in and she struggled for shore. Her body ached, but she pushed on. It was no use. It was too far to swim. She was going to drown.
Gulping a lungful of air, she let out a hysterical laugh and yelled, “Finally, you old sea hag! Finally I am free of your curse!” Tears streamed over her face as she swam a little farther only to stop and float on her back. The waves rocked her back and forth. “The gods have blessed me. Do you hear me, Urbana? You can no longer have me. I am free of you, old hag. I am free of this ocean. The gods have taken pity on me and are going to let me end my life!”
Ceana laughed again. The sun shone upon her naked body as she floated on the endless sea that had been her prison for so long.
“I am no longer your prisoner,” she whispered. “My death will free me.”
* * * * *
The gods have blessed me. Do you hear…?
Ian frowned, sitting up. His body tingled, on guard.
…can no longer have me. I am free…
Seagulls squawked when he moved, singing their horrible sound so loud he cursed them for interrupting.
“Ceana?” His senses were alert and he stood to hear the words, so soft and faint.
The gods have taken pity on me and are going to let me end my life!
“Ceana, no! Where are you?” He looked all around the shoreline. And then, a sick feeling in his stomach, he looked at the water. Is that what she’d been doing out in the water the night before, only to stop when she saw him drowning? Was she killing herself? Is that why she slept with him so eagerly the night before? Why she claimed they could not be together in the morning, that he wasn’t to love her, that she didn’t want to talk about it?
His heart thundered loud in his ears. He took a deep breath, trying to pick up her scent as he charged the waters. The faintest trace of her invaded him, reminding his body of their night together. Passion stirred with fear and he mindlessly went after her to save her.
“Ceana, hold on,” he said, diving beneath the surface.
I just found you again. I can’t lose you now. Hold on, baby. I’m coming for you!
Churning his arms through the water, he didn’t stop to think as he swam out into water. The sun was rising over the surface and he saw a glint of blonde on the water. Ceana wasn’t moving, but she was floating. Then, to his horror, he watched as she slipped beneath the surface.
Acting on pure instinct and no thought for himself, he dove for her. Going deeper and deeper into the darker depths of the water, his eyes shifted to see. The salt water stung them even in their enhanced form.
He caught a glimpse of her blonde hair and reached for it. The small hold was enough. Pulling her hair, he drew her closer, grabbing another fistful of the silky locks and then another as he reeled her toward him. Ian kicked, his lungs burning, as he pulled her toward the surface. As soon as he broke the surface of the water, he hooked her about the neck and drew her up against his chest. Her already pale face was tinged with blue and her lips weren’t moving. Trying to carry her and swim at the same time, he worked his way back to shore.
It seemed like forever until he got her on her back in the sand. She was still naked and the blue had worked its way down her slender frame. Running his hand over her neck, he reached to feel for her heartbeat even as he blew air into her mouth.
Ceana coughed, spouting water out of her mouth. Her eyelids fluttered only to close. She was unconscious, but Ian could hear the faint beating of her heart. Her chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.
Closing his eyes, he concentrated on his brothers, and called to them, Roark, James!
Ugh, yeah, I’m up! James’ voice answered. Even though it was in his head, Ian knew his brother had been sleeping.
Argh, what is it? I’m busy, Roark complained. And both of them are gorgeous.
I need you, Ian interrupted. Now.
Are you hurt? James demanded.
No, just come quickly. And bring a change of clothes. Ian touched Ceana’s face, willing her to look at him. She didn’t. But, at least she was breathing. That was something.
If you’ve gotten yourself into that kind of trouble, just walk it off, Roark protested. These two are…oh, damn that feels good. Ahem, these two are really into me. I think I’m in love.
You’re always in love, said James.
And I think that your future queen may be dying! Ian screamed at them.
He felt the mindlink between them stir and knew his brothers were finally compelled into action.
You didn’t, James g
rowled. Not Meghan! Ian, you can’t. She’s a conniving, manipulative—
Damn it, just get here! Ian cut them out of his mind, not wanting to talk about it. He hadn’t meant to say that Ceana would be his queen, but as he looked at her, he knew that’s what he wanted. She was the woman he’d been looking for.
You have to be her, he thought. I know you are. I finally found you again and this time I’m not letting you out of my sight.
* * * * *
Ceana gasped, her lungs burning from breathing in sea water. Her body was sore and battered. All around her was darkness and then she heard it. The faint cackling of Urbana behind her jolted her and she opened her eyes to see the wet sand under her hands.
“What?” She tried to push up, the scene around her all too familiar. How could this be? Was it a dream? A nightmare? Was this hell?
In horror, she turned to see the long, slender form of the witch. Her clothes washed like waves over her body and her flesh was as translucent as water. Inside her chest small eels swam where her heart should have been. Had she been human, her pale, blue face would have been beautiful. But the witch wasn’t human. She was evil.
Angry waves lashed out from the depths of the ocean, as the old sea witch pointed her finger toward the shore. Ceana screamed as her body hit the rocks. Her gown was torn and as soon as she saw the crimson edging along the earthen ground, she knew where she was.
She was in the past.
Her past.
Her body ached as it had that night she was cursed. The witch came closer. She could feel the evil being. Death was close. She thought of Ian, of drowning along the shore. What now? Was she to start over? Why now? Why start over? Had she missed something along the way? Something important?
“You will pay for taking him from me!” the witch cried, as the water tossed her again.
Him?
“Kerrigan,” she whispered. Her brother. He was safe. Too sore to cry, she lay with her face in the sand. It hurt to breathe, which worked to her advantage as it kept the water out of her lungs. The wave pulled back, dragging her limp body along the sandy shore. Her flesh was raw from the rough texture of the pebbles grinding against it and the wounds stung unmercifully from the salt water. The harsh cackle of the witch echoed in her head as the world darkened.
“Awaken!” the witch ordered as she flipped Ceana on her back.
A snakelike pull wrapped her ankles as the water took on a life of its own, holding her legs together. Two more magical strands of water grabbed her wrists. Even though she knew what was going to happen, she still felt the fear she’d felt the first time. The water held her, its hold like liquid shackles against her limbs that grew out in long, thick ropes to the sea. She struggled, but could not free herself. A horrible fish with sharp teeth swam up the thick tube of water that led to her body.
“Cancer, I call to you!” the witch yelled. Her body glowed, the eerie silvery blue light shining from her, into the surrounding ocean, only to craw up the liquid chains. “Help me to curse this creature who trespasses against your loyal follower.”
Ceana’s body was jerked higher into the air and she dangled from her shackles as if held on an invisible cross.
“By the formidable power of the Cancerian Crab, I condemn you, mortal, to immortality. You will live beneath the waves, in your brother’s place. If I can’t have him, I will have you. The sea will be your home and the full moon your only respite. Only one can break this curse. One so rare you should never find him. You must find the love from one of land, born under the sign of Cancer, born of the night, ruled by the moon. Only he can break this spell. Only his pure love can set you free.”
The hag cackled again, throwing her hand into the air. Droplets flew out of her as an eel jumped from her chest. Ceana screamed, but it was no use. The eel hit her face and dissipated into her body. Seconds later, purple fins sprouted from her forearms, the color threaded with soft white and silver like a seashell. The flesh of her arms was molded around it, holding the fins on. Her neck ripped open, as gills formed in her throat. She tried to claw at them, but couldn’t reach them. Next, her thighs stuck together underneath her gown. Scales grew over her legs, molding them into a silvery purple tail. Finally, her feet shifted and a long caudal fin unraveled at the bottom, as thin as wet silk.
“It is done. You are mine!” Urbana yelled triumphantly. Her body burst into a million beads of water. Ceana screamed as she was flung through the air into the ocean. The water shackles let go and she sailed through the air. And, as her body hit the surface with a hard smack, she gulped.
Ceana sat up, confused as she looked around. She was in a bed. A thick, white comforter covered her legs and a strange style of furniture was in the room. It looked like wood, but she’d never seen bedposts carved in such a way.
“Not real,” she gasped, remembering her dream of the ocean. It felt real, but it couldn’t be. She was safe. She was here in the…
Ceana looked around. Where exactly was she? Sun shone through large pieces of material over the windows. Spreading her legs, she found they were human. She touched her arms, running her fingers over them. Her fins were gone. Next she looked for gills. Nope. They were gone as well.
Her body was still and yet she felt dizzy. The room spun around her. Centuries had passed since she’d been in sunlight as a human—long, long centuries.
The knowledge was too much. Her body was weak from her ordeal. She let the darkness have her as she fell back on the bed.
Chapter Five
Ian closed his eyes as the hot water hit his body. The warm water wasn’t helping cool his ardor, but he couldn’t force himself to turn the temperature down. After a night on the beach, he’d discovered sand in some unusual places. Thinking of it, he smiled, remembering the feel of his mystery woman on his cock.
His brothers were down in the kitchen, waiting for him to get cleaned up. Ian chuckled, let them wait for him. Right now, the soap felt too good against his body. Closing his eyes, he imagined that the soft lather was Ceana’s hands running over him, teasing him.
Oh, how he wanted to fuck her again! Taking her hard and long, making her come over and over again. The lycan in him begged for release. One taste of her wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. He wanted more.
His cock strained, caressed by the hot water. Running his soapy hands down, he grabbed it hard, wishing it was her fingers fisting the turgid length. Turning, he hit his head hard against the shower’s wall. He was too far gone in his passion to care.
Ian thrust his hips, keeping both fists closed around his cock as he pumped back and forth. The soap made them slick, just like Ceana’s sweet pussy. He let the fantasy take over, squeezing and turning his hands.
In his mind, she moaned, begged, pleaded with him to take her. Ian grinned. It was a fantasy, after all.
Take me, master, the imagined Ceana begged. Fuck me with your giant cock. Break me open. Conquer me. I am your willing slave.
Ian groaned. He had a feeling the real Ceana would never be so submissive, but he didn’t care. What he did care was that she wasn’t really there. He wanted her before him.
Moaning, he jerked, spilling his seed. He fell to his knees, the hot water hitting his head. Never had masturbating done that to him—made him so weak he couldn’t stand. Ian remained on the shower floor, awed by the feelings that coursed inside him for the mysterious woman.
“Ceana,” he whispered, unable to do anything else. “Sweet, Ceana.”
* * * * *
“Are you crazy?” James demanded, looking across the table at Ian. “You plan on taking that woman as your bride? Did you not hear what she was mumbling all the way back from the beach?”
Ian didn’t answer, as he thought of the woman upstairs in his bed. Both brothers were at his table, looking worn from a night of drinking and sex, not to mention the fact that they had to run the beach to find him and then help him cart Ceana back to town in his SUV. They also managed to get her into his bed.
She was still breathing and her color was better, but Ian was still worried. He tried to listen for her, but heard nothing. Ceana was sleeping.
Sleeping in his home, his bed.
Naked.
Ian shivered, feeling his desire for her surge forth anew. His blood was hot, near the point of boiling out of his veins. He wanted to go to her, but what could he do? She was sleeping.
Taking a deep breath, he ignored James’ continuing lecture and looked around his kitchen. Ian’s home was styled in the old Victorian period, popular in the Oregon coastal city. The large kitchen had high ceilings and pale cream walls that showcased one of his prized possessions—a range stove from the mid-1800s combining a broiler and an oven. True to period, the cast-iron frame was faced with gray soapstone and inlaid with brass. It required a chimney for exhaust. Bricks encased the stove in an sunken part of the wall along the side of the room. The unit wasn’t really efficient to the modern era, but Ian kept it anyway. A lot of his cooking was done on flat burners hidden within the butcher block on the counter, or out on the grill. Living on the coast made seafood barbeques a way of life for him and his clan.
Parquet wood floors and large rugs covered the house. Semicircle windows arched above longer windows. Large portraits and fancy brown satin drapes graced the parlor. His brothers often teased him about his taste in décor, calling him as talented as a woman when it came to housekeeping. Ian couldn’t help it if he had taste—unlike James who lived in a loft with his paintings, or Roark who preferred moving around. Every house he’d been to that Roark owned had boxes stacked in it, ready to be unpacked.
“Ian!” James demanded, drawing Ian’s attention back at the hard, loud tone. “Are you even listening?”
Ian chuckled to himself. “Uh, no, not really.”
Roark chuckled, taking a swig of his beer. It was early in the day, but none of them cared.
“Please, try and pay attention,” James said. “The woman is crazy. You heard her. She kept talking about fish—”
Call of the Lycan Trilogy Bundle Page 4
