Wildfire Shifters: Collection 1

by Zoe Chant

  “That’s no consolation at all!” Diana gave him a gentle mock-slap to the chest. “I need you to have a long, long life. With me.”

  Callum ducked his head, claiming her mouth. She pressed up into him, closing her eyes, surrendering to the sweet fire of his kiss.

  “So,” she murmured, when she could speak again. “About that apology. I believe groveling was suggested?”

  Callum made a growling sound; part hunger, part irritation. “For once in his life, Connor was right about something. Never tell him I said that.”

  Diana laughed, then squeaked as he scooped her up in his arms as though she weighed nothing at all. The feel of his flexed muscles, hard as steel underneath her thighs, sent a fresh surge of heat through her body.

  “What about Beth?” she said breathlessly, as Callum carried her into his bedroom.

  “Sound asleep.” Callum laid her down on the bed, immediately covering her with his hard, long body.

  “But…” She gasped as his legs straddled hers, pinning her down. “She’s right next door. She could wake up--”

  Callum silenced her with another long, fierce kiss.

  “Then you’ll just have to keep quiet,” he whispered, eventually. She felt him smile. “If you can.”

  This, it turned out, was very, very hard.

  She’d thought he’d been taking his time earlier, in the meadow. But that had been a rushed quickie compared to this slow, exquisite torment.

  He made love to her with a methodical patience that was all the sweeter because she could feel his all-consuming desire for her burning down the mate bond. There was no room for self-consciousness or doubt; not when she knew, with soul-deep certainty, how much he needed her. Wanted her.

  Loved her.

  Knowing how hard he was fighting to hold back made her bolder. She scratched her nails down his back, delighting in the shudder that went through him; licked the hollow of his throat, and felt him swallow a groan. She explored every hard plane and angle of his body, claiming every inch as her own. So much man, and all hers.

  “Yes,” he gasped. He pulled her to the edge of the bed, rolling off himself to sink to his knees between her spread thighs. “Yours. Always.”

  He bent his head, sweeping his tongue through her slick folds. Diana bit her lip, clenching her fists in the bedcovers with the effort of staying silent. She gripped his head with her thighs, relishing the play of muscles in his back, the delicious tension in his shoulders, his utter focus on her pleasure. Every circle of his tongue, every suck and lick, drove her higher and higher, until she was writhing helplessly—

  Ecstasy shuddered through her. Callum never stopped, his mouth drawing out her orgasm longer than she’d ever thought possible. By the time he finally lifted his head, she was wrung out and trembling, flat on her back.

  Callum crawled back onto the bed, muscles flexing. His green eyes gleamed like a hunting tiger’s, predatory and hungry.

  “Turn over,” he growled. “All fours.”

  Diana wasn’t entirely sure that she could, her limbs were so limp. But that rough, ragged edge in his voice made her core clench in need. Despite the mind-blowing orgasm he’d just given her, she was suddenly aching to have him deep inside her.

  She rolled over, bracing herself on hands and knees. His hot weight settled across her back; not bearing her down, but pressing enough to show how much bigger he was, how much stronger, how fiercely he was struggling for control. His mouth closed on the side of her neck, the soft place at the junction of her shoulder. He didn’t bite down enough to hurt; just holding her in place in a show of dominance that made her gasp in desire.

  “Oh yes.” She thrust back, desperate for him, needing to be filled. “Please, Callum, please, now!”

  He slid into her in a deep, fierce thrust. She clenched her jaw, clenched her eyes shut, fighting not to scream her pleasure. He filled her utterly, claimed her utterly.

  *Mine.* His teeth were still clenched on her shoulder. But she heard him in her mind, in her soul, in every atom of her body. *Nobody can ever take you away now. Mine, my beautiful mate, all mine, Diana!*

  Finally, finally he let go, pounding into her with animal abandon. Every powerful drive of his hips sent her mad. She thrust back, matching his rhythm, demanding more.

  Callum let go of her neck at last, flinging back his head, his whole body arcing. She felt him coming, in a hot rush deep inside, making her clench around him in a final wave of blinding delight.

  He collapsed down to his elbows on top of her, still being careful not to flatten her with his weight. Diana lay underneath him, panting, totally wrung out.

  Callum rolled, taking her with him, until he was spooned round her. She relaxed into his warmth, his scent, the utter comfort of his presence.

  His breath tickled her ear. “I love you.”

  “Love you too,” she mumbled, sleep already dragging her down. “No more secrets, okay?”

  “No more secrets.” His voice followed her into dreams. “I promise.”

  Chapter 23

  Connor collapsed down onto the bed with a sigh, throwing one arm across his eyes. It had been hard, laughing and joking with Rory and the rest of the gang all evening; listening to their stories, topping them with his own. All the while struggling to control himself, to not be too crazy.

  To not cross that invisible line that would turn all the laughter to stares and scorn.

  He wished he could have kept on being Callum for the evening. The challenge of mimicking his brother kept just enough of his mind occupied to let the rest of him be still. It was peaceful.

  And people looked at him differently. Nobody laughed at Callum. They respected him. It was nice, being Callum.

  But he couldn’t be Callum. So he’d been himself, or as much of himself as he could allow himself to be, until he was about ready to gnaw through the walls to escape.

  And now, finally, he was alone.

  Bored now, his pegasus announced. Let’s go fight someone!

  Connor grimaced. The need to do something prickled under his skin, like an imminent shift. For a moment, he seriously contemplated flying out to find the nearest town. There had to be a bar around here somewhere.

  Instead, he dug in his pocket for his phone. Still lying flat on his back in the borrowed cabin—and boy, these ground-pounders didn’t know how good they had it, with actual beds and actual blankets and private cabins, he had to remember to rib Rory and Joe and Wystan mercilessly about it all tomorrow, but not Blaise, because she’d probably set fire to his underwear if he so much as hinted she might be getting soft—he dialed.

  “I fucked up,” he said, the instant the video call connected. Then, belatedly, he added, “Hi.”

  “Hello to you too, brother mine,” Conleth said, rather dryly. “How is this news? Isn’t shambolic chaos your natural state of affairs?”

  “This time I’ve really fucked up. Massively. Balls deep.” Connor waved his arms, trying to indicate the extent of his cock up, and then realized he’d just treated Conleth to a blurry, jerky shot of the room. He brought the phone back in front of his face again. “Seriously, it’s really bad.”

  Conleth gave him a look. “Again: how is this news?”

  “Wow, who pissed in your cornflakes this morning?” Connor frowned, something occurring to him. “Wait, is it morning in London? I always forget whether you’re ahead or behind me.”

  “I’m always ahead of you, brother mine. But in this specific case, only by a few hours.” Conleth turned his phone, showing Connor a brief view of skyscrapers. “I’m in New York.”

  Now that he was thinking about it, Conleth’s life-force did feel a lot closer than normal. Connor had always been able to sense his brothers’ locations, no matter how far away they were. It was a strange exception to the normal limits on his pegasus’s power. It wasn’t as impressive as Callum’s extraordinary sensitivity…but at least it was his, something that neither of his more talented brothers could do.

  �
��What are you doing in New York?” Connor asked, curiosity briefly distracting him from his own pity party.

  “A bullshit business meeting that could just as easily have taken place over Skype and saved us all a lot of time, money, and environmental damage.” Conleth scowled. “I swear, these investors make alpha lions look like team players. Sometimes I just sit here and day-dream about kicking them all in their pompous entitled butts.”

  Connor shook his head. “You really need a change of career, you know.”

  “Not all of us can run into fires for a living.” Conleth leaned forward, peering into his screen. “Where are you, anyway?”

  “Montana. Callum’s base. Did you know he met his mate?”

  Conleth went oddly still. “Yes.”

  “That’s how I fucked up.” Connor let his head fall back onto the pillow with a thump. “I fucked her.”

  Conleth stared at him.

  “Not now,” Connor added quickly. “Obviously. I mean, ages ago. You remember that charity bachelor auction? The nice lady that you bribed to bid on me? The one you thought might be my mate?”

  “Yes,” Conleth said, his voice tight. “Wait, you slept with her?”

  “I must have done.” Connor started to run a hand through his hair, then stopped, wincing, as his fingers encountered the bruise on his temple. “To be honest, I don’t remember. But it’s the only thing that makes sense. Callum would never have let his mate go again if he’d really met her in the elevator that night. So it must have been me.”

  Conleth seemed to be lagging several sentences behind the conversation. “Callum said he met his mate in the elevator?”

  “Yeah. Well, I said it first. Told him that since I couldn’t remember anything from that night—which is true, by the way—it could have been him that she ran into and took to bed. It was the only way out of the whole mess. You would have been proud of me, thinking on my feet like that. Anyway, he went for it hook, line, and sinker. Recited the whole cock-and-bull story to his mate with a straight face, confident that I’d play along. Or, well, not play along, exactly. I’m pretty sure he thinks I actually believe it.”

  Connor had known Callum had a low opinion of his intelligence. It still hurt, somehow, to discover that it was that low.

  Conleth was looking increasingly bewildered. “Why on earth would Callum lie to his mate? And if he really does think that you slept with her, why hasn’t he beaten you to a pulp? Or is that why you have a bruise on your forehead?”

  “Oh, that wasn’t Callum. That was his mate. Diana.” Connor grinned, remembering how she’d charged him like some totally metal Viking goddess, brandishing her improvised weapon. “She’s awesome. Also, don’t ever pretend to be Callum around her. Unless you’re wearing a helmet. And probably some kind of groin protection. Maybe a full suit of plate armor. Thought that would be hard to pull off, if you’re meant to be Callum. I guess you might get away with it on Halloween. Or maybe not. Considering how he hated trick-or-treating as a kid, I can’t really see him dressing up now. Hey, wouldn’t be hilarious if he was forced to go to a costume party? We should try to work out a way to make that happen sometime.”

  Conleth massaged his forehead with his fingertips. “Connor, are you off your meds?”

  “Of course I am. It’s end of fire season. You know I only take them when I’m working. Otherwise I can’t drink.”

  “Do me a favor and take the damn pills before you call me next time, okay?” Conleth dropped his hand with a sigh. “Or at least give me enough warning so that I can go off my meds too. It’s a lot easier to have a conversation with you when I’m on the same wavelength.”

  “Sorry. Oh, fuck, I meant to swear you to secrecy before telling you any of this.”

  Connor was a fuck-up. He knew he was a fuck-up. He fucked up everything he touched, whether he was on meds or not (which was why he didn’t take them. If he was going to fuck up anyway, he might as well enjoy it).

  Beth needed someone who wasn’t a fuck-up. Someone responsible. Someone who could do things right. Someone who could be a real father to her.

  And if he only did one thing right in his entire life, it was going to be to make sure she had one.

  “Listen,” Connor said urgently. “Don’t you ever let on to Callum that I know he’s lying, okay? He hates me enough already, not that I can blame him for that. At least this way he might still speak to me once in a blue moon. And don’t ever, ever breathe a word of this to his mate. As far as Diana knows, Callum’s the father. She’ll hit the roof if she ever finds out the truth. Promise you won’t tell.”

  Conleth started to speak—and then stopped dead.

  “Conleth?” Connor shook his phone, wondering if the video feed had frozen. “Hello? You still there?”

  “Yes.” His brother’s face had gone white. “What do you mean, Callum’s the father?”

  Chapter 24

  “Still no word from Connor?” Diana asked, looking concerned.

  Callum shook his head, most of his attention occupied with stopping Beth from stuffing her face full of grass. Having discovered that it was tasty in her pegasus form, she now seemed convinced that it was a delicious snack when she was human as well.

  “I’m getting worried.” Diana scanned the nearby cabins, as though Connor could somehow be hiding from Callum’s pegasus. “You haven’t sensed him all morning. I wonder where he’s gone?”

  “Knowing Connor, to a bar.” Callum took Beth’s hands, trying to encourage her to stand up rather than continue ripping up the meadow outside his cabin. “I expect he got bored yesterday evening and flew off to find some entertainment.”

  “You really think he’d stay out all night?”

  “I’ve known him to stay out all week. For Connor, staggering back mid-afternoon the next day would be making an early night of it.”

  “But he was so eager to meet Beth properly today,” Diana said, her hands twisting together. “I’m worried that something might have happened to him. Maurice is still out there, after all. What if he’s gone after Connor? What if he’s managed to capture him?”

  Privately, Callum thought that Maurice would find that Connor made a very poor hostage. In the unlikely event that Maurice had abducted Connor, by now the poor hellhound would probably be desperate to offer them a ransom to take him back.

  But that was unlikely to reassure Diana. Callum found himself in the unusual—and not entirely comfortable—position of having to say something good about his brother.

  “Connor is a fully-grown pegasus stallion. He can take care of himself.” That was debatable in most contexts, but not this one. Callum knew only too well how good Connor was in a fight. “And he’s had more than enough practice at brawling. He’s a better fighter than I am, actually. Don’t tell him I said that.”

  “I don’t doubt that he’s physically capable.” Worry still creased Diana’s brow. “But I got the impression he, um…”

  “Has the common sense of a carrot?”

  Diana shot him a reproving look. “I was going to say, doesn’t entirely think things through.”

  “He doesn’t at all think things through. He doesn’t even start to think things through. His mind is a small dog in an infinite field of squirrels.”

  Diana folded her arms sternly, though he could tell she was smothering a giggle. “Be nice about your brother. He’s my family too now, you know.”

  “I am being nice about him.” Beth was tugging at his hands, demanding a cuddle. He picked her up, supporting her on his hip. “Anyway, he’s probably just sleeping it off somewhere. Possibly the town drunk tank. If he hasn’t turned up by dinner, I’ll go looking for him.”

  Diana poked him in the shoulder. “Put it on your list. That way I know you’ll do it.”

  Callum sighed, but obligingly pulled out his notepad and added it on to his to-do list for the day. Right at the bottom. He had more important things to do than chase after his idiot brother.

  He ran a finger down his itinerary. �
��I have to get going. I’m behind schedule.”

  Diana’s cheeks went pink, but her eyes sparkled. “So sorry for distracting you from your planned activities for the morning.”

  He caught her with his free arm, drawing her in for a long, lingering kiss. Beth squawked in protest, squished between them.

  “I’m not,” Callum said, releasing his mate again. “But I do have to go. Min-Seo still needs me to search for Maurice. And I have to talk to Rory and the others.”

  That was the most important thing. It hadn’t entirely been Diana’s lush, delicious body that had made him drag her back into bed this morning (though just thinking of it now made him tempted to throw his notebook into the bushes, abandoning all other plans for the day). Callum couldn’t risk her talking to his friends, not until he’d had a chance to brief them on his…slight alteration of the facts.

  His pegasus flattened its ears at him. You mean your lies.

  He repressed his inner animal. At most, it was a white lie. For the good of everyone. Connor couldn’t possibly want to be a father, after all. He would have thanked Callum for taking on all the responsibility, if he’d known the truth.

  Callum’s friends would agree that he’d made the right call. They’d go along with it. They’d understand. He’d make them understand—

  Callum was abruptly jerked out of his train of thought by Beth twisting in his arms. She craned her neck, staring at the sky. Sensing what had attracted her attention, he froze too.

  What’s he doing here?

  “What is it? What have you both sensed?” Diana shaded her eyes, following his gaze. “Oh! Is that Connor?”

  “No.” Callum passed Beth to her, a twinge of protective instinct prompting him to step in front of them both. “It’s my other—”

  He didn’t get time to finish the sentence. Conleth came hurtling down in a streak of copper, flying so fast that Callum thought he wasn’t going to stop at all. But at the last second Conleth flared his wings, shifting as he fell out of the sky. Conleth’s human feet hit the ground right in front of him—and the next thing Callum knew, his jaw exploded with pain.