Shifters in the Snow

by Jacqueline Sweet

  But then a finger stroked her inner thigh and a shuddering sigh escaped her lips and the darkness was banished.

  Two of the werewolves stared at her with longing. One stroked her thigh with his hand and the other dared to bend his neck and plant a kiss on top of her knee.

  Behind her, the Alpha sighed with annoyance. With his shifter senses, he could gauge her arousal.

  “If we let go of you, how long will the curse stay away?” he asked.

  The Witch’s heart ached. She didn’t want them to let go. Not ever. The thought of the numbness returning to her limbs was too much to bear. “I do not know, Alpha. This has never happened before.”

  He pointed at the stairs to the upper floor with his chin. “My bedroom is up there, kid. Take these wolves with you and make the most of whatever time you have.”

  “But why?” the Witch asked. “Why are you being kind? I nearly killed the whole of your people.”

  “Because you didn’t. Because my sister-in-law showed me the power of mercy tonight. And because it’s Christmas and everyone deserves a second chance on Christmas.” His voice was gentle as he spoke, all trace of the growl gone. “But if you hurt these boys . . .”

  The Winter Witch leapt to her feet, breaking contact with the shifters. The cold did not rush back immediately, but she could feel it looming like a storm on the horizon. “I will not hurt them, big Alpha,” she laughed, then seized the hands of the two who had been lavishing attention on her. In a rush, the three of them darted up the stairs.

  “What are your names?” the Witch asked as they ran.

  “Alex,” said the taller of the two.

  “Brandon,” said the other.

  They looked so much alike they must have been brothers, with sandy brown hair and dark features, lean bodies and broad shoulders. The Witch trembled as she regarded them. The excitement was overpowering.

  They found their way to the Alpha’s bedroom, a wide room with western windows overlooking a forested valley. The sun was setting, and orange rays cut through the clouds, painting the snow-covered treetops in honeyed tones. A massive bed took up most of the space. It was large enough for a bear to sleep on, or for one witch and two werewolves to sate themselves on.

  Alex came up behind the Witch and kissed her neck while Brandon grabbed her hips and pulled her tightly against himself. She could feel the hardness of his cock through his pants as he ground himself against her. He kissed her then, a quick test of a kiss to see if she was frozen or cursed. But she wasn’t. Alex grinned at her then and kissed her longer, harder, his tongue exploring her mouth.

  Delicious heat swirled inside the Witch. She felt like she was floating, like she was a mortal girl in the arms of two lovers. It was heady and intoxicating.

  Brandon kissed her neck, nipping her with his teeth. Then he seized the neckline of her dress and ripped it in two, revealing her nakedness. He roughly grabbed her breasts and pinched her nipples, making her squeal into Alex’s mouth. He rolled and tugged her buds in his strong fingers while he pressed his hardness to her ass. She was trapped between two werewolves and lost in pleasure. She reached one hand in front and one behind and stroked their cocks through their clothes. Heat burst from them at her touch, spiraling into her body. As long as they kept touching her and kissing her and licking her, she thought, the curse would stay away.

  Alex broke off their kiss and licked his way down to her breasts. Brandon offered them to his brother, and Alex accepted the invitation, taking the Witch’s nipples between his teeth and lapping at them with his rough tongue.

  “Oh yes, yes. Yes!” the Witch yelled. The wolves did not speak, but they growled and gruffed as they handled her.

  Brandon sank to his knees behind her while Alex did the same in front.

  “It’s been centuries since I last enjoyed sex. I fear I am out of practice,” the Witch laughed. “What are you doing on your knees, my lovers? Should I join you?”

  Alex looked up at her, his eyes burning with his shifter spirit. “You should stand right there, my Witch. Stand right there and come for us.” The shifter’s fingers moved from her breasts, gliding over her round belly, down to her sex. He spread her open gently and sniffed at her before licking his lips.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “I’ve never eaten Witch pussy before,” Alex said with a grin.

  “Just think, this is the last moment you’ll be able to say that.” The Witch’s voice grew breathy and ragged as the wolfboy brought his mouth to her dripping cunt. Two hundred years of being frozen, and the thaw had finally come to her. She was wetter than spring in the mountains, wetter than the first thaw of the season.

  Spring had come to the Winter Witch’s sex, and it felt amazing.

  Alex’s tongue parted her folds and licked her deliciously. The Witch trembled and quivered and moaned at the joy of it. She forgot about Brandon kneeling behind her, until she felt his strong hands spread her ass cheeks open.

  “What?” she said dreamily. “What are you doing back there?”

  Brandon laughed darkly, then pressed his face between her cheeks and licked hungrily at her asshole. Every stroke of his tongue was like lightning striking her core. The Witch let out a warbling cry and grabbed on to each of the wolves’ heads to steady herself. The effect of both of them devouring her at once destroyed her. Ruined her. One moment she was a snow-draped mountain, quiet and alone in the wilderness. And the next two hungry mouths took her to heights undreamt of, and her mountain shook under the thunderous assault. The ice cracked. The snow quivered. All gave way.

  When she came it was an avalanche.

  Her sex trembled. Her asshole quivered.

  The Winter Witch’s legs gave out and gasping, she fell on top of Alex.

  “I think she liked it,” Alex said with a wry tone.

  Brandon slid his pants off his hips. “I think she’ll like the next trick even more.”

  They’d done this before, she realized. These two men were practiced at overpowering women with their techniques. She was being ministered to by experts.

  Alex shrugged off his jeans and the Witch took a moment to admire the curves of his muscles, the neat lines of his body that all seemed to point downwards, to his cock. It hung dark and heavy in a thatch of thick hair. Alex clambered onto the bed and lay on his back, an expectant grin making him look eager and boyish.

  Before she could do anything, Brandon scooped the Witch up in his arms and eased her onto the bed.

  “What am I to do?” she asked, puzzled. “How does this work with three bodies? Do you take turns with me?”

  “No,” Brandon said. “We take you together.”

  “But how?”

  With shifter strength, Brandon easily lifted the Witch again, this time laying her upon his brother.

  “Normally we take things slower, but with that curse liable to come back at any minute . . . “ Alex said, then moved the Witch’s body so that she was straddling him, her thighs on either side of his hips. “Take my cock,” he said, fixing her with his smoldering gaze. “Guide it inside you.”

  The Witch bit her lip and nodded at him. It was the first order she’d obeyed since becoming the Winter Witch, and the most enjoyable. Alex’s thick cock opened her languorously. She felt herself stretch as he thrust in, her slick walls grasping him tightly.

  “Oh fuck, you’re tight,” he growled.

  The Witch sighed with delight. “And wet.” This position was unfamiliar to her, but after so long, all sex was unfamiliar. She tried rocking her hips and then rolling them, then lifting her ass and lowering it, experimenting to see what felt best.

  Brandon had vanished. Where had he gone? It didn’t matter with Alex there, hard and hot inside her. He thrust gently, slowly, easing her open. The Witch moaned and grabbed at the Alpha’s bed, her fingers gouging rents into the sheets and mattress.

  The cold began to return. With only one wolf to warm her, she could feel the numbness returning. Her skin paled, the warm brown
tones desaturating into gray, into white.

  But then Brandon was back, kneeling behind her. He ran his hands down her spine, over her hips, and warmth flooded her again, pushing the cold away.

  “Sorry, Marcus doesn’t have any lube in the house. So I’m improvising.”

  The Witch glanced back and saw Brandon holding a stick of butter in his hand. “Butter? What’s the butter for?” she said, panting as Alex thrust harder into her.

  “Butter makes everything better,” Brandon said with a lewd smile. He crushed the stick in his hands and then smeared it up and down his cock. His was longer than Alex’s, and thinner. Then he took one buttery finger and slid it up the Witch’s ass.

  She writhed and clutched Alex tightly. Fireworks exploded within her. “What is this?” she whimpered. The sensation was breathtaking. To a mortal, it may have hurt. But she was the Winter Witch and pain was beyond her.

  “This is me getting your ass nice and slippery,” Brandon growled. She glanced back at him, intrigued by his tone and saw his eyes flash with inner fire.

  “You’re going to love this,” Alex said. His cock sank deep into her and he held her close, kissing her as his brother knelt behind the Witch.

  She felt something larger and hotter nudge against her asshole. “What is that?” she asked. Then realization dawned on her as Brandon opened her ass with his buttered cock.

  The Winter Witch trembled and shook as the two brothers took her in both holes at once. She was silent, reveling in the sensations, and then she found her voice.

  The Witch sang then, one of the oldest songs of her blood. It was not the siren song that brought men to the cold, not the hunting song. It was a song of hope and transformation. It was a song the Witch did not know she knew.

  She sang the song of spring. Of fertile fields and generous blossoms and the eternal rebirth of life. The song exploded from her in a pulse of light that moved through walls and windows, through doors and rocks. At the speed of hope it pulsed across Bearfield. The clouds in the sky evaporated as the song touched them. Snow melted in steaming blasts. Her song touched every soul in Bearfield, and lifted them with joy.

  In that moment, overcome with generosity and heat, and maybe helped with a little bit with of Christmas magic, the Winter Witch closed her eyes one last time, and when she opened them a moment later, crying with joy as her lovers filled her with their seed, she became the Witch of Spring.

  Chapter 11

  Outside, along a snowy trail, cursing like sailors, Matt and Mina ran naked to the lake. He offered to carry her, but it was against the rules. The most Matt could do for his mate was to shield her from Sheriff Pete’s water guns.

  “I’m sorry!” Matt said. “I’m sorry! This is all my fault.”

  “Fuck,” Mina swore. “Fuckity fuck. This is fucking cold.” But then she laughed. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

  They were halfway to the water when the song of Spring caught up with them, warming their bones and hearts and putting a little more spring into their step.

  Matt and Mina held hands as they raced along the trail. The sunset painted the world in the most beautiful shades of honeybear gold.

  “The record for getting to the lake and back is twenty minutes,” Matt said, huffing down the trail.

  The lake was before them, warm and inviting. The Spring song wound through the air and as Mina watched, flowers bloomed, trees fruited, and the world came alive.

  “We’re not going to beat the record, Matt,” Mina said.

  “Why not? If we hustle back, we can do it.”

  “Because it’s Christmas,” she said, grabbing his hips and pulling him near her naked body. “And I have a present for you.”

  They didn’t break the record that year. In fact, it was the slowest and most enjoyable loser race that Bearfield had ever seen.

  * * *

  A SLICE OF HONEYBEAR PIE

  (Bearfield - Book One)

  Matt Morrissey is a bear shifter with a sweet tooth, an easy smile, and muscles for miles. Mina Brooks is a baker who couldn’t take the heat of a mobster-infested kitchen. When Mina crashes her car in the charming, sleepy town of Bearfield she thought her life was over, but then she met Matt. As fate pulls the two of them closer, and the dangerous men close in on Mina, Matt has to prove he's got what it takes to defend the woman he loves from the mysterious forces pursuing her.

  About the Author

  Hi, I’m USA TODAY bestselling author Jacqueline Sweet. I love to write sexy, thrilling stories. My stories are either paranormal, or contemporary and steamy. I love to write about werewolves, bear shifters, witches, dragons and everything else that has magic pumping in its veins. My stories often involve the quaint and charming paranormal community of Bearfield, or take place at my sexy, dangerous Penrose Academy, a university for wizards too dangerous or odd for the better wizarding schools.

  Website | Mailing list | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

  Bears in Wonderland

  by Amanda Jones

  Chapter 1

  “We’ve finally found her, Patrick,” the wizened old man said, and my skin flushed hot.

  “Where?” my voice got stuck in my throat, making it sound even more animalistic than usual. The men on the Council watched me try and pull myself together. I’d been waiting for this day for one year, and they all knew it.

  When time ticked on and only silence greeted my question, my temper spiked.

  “Where?” I growled, my hands fisted at my side. The other men on the Council all had a reaction to my anger—some looked wary, some resigned, but mostly the group of ten men showed signs of anger of their own.

  “Try and relax, Patrick,” soothed Paul, the old man that told me they’d found her—Cat—his hands in the air in a defensive gesture. I held my tongue but I wanted to tell him to go to hell. But Paul, more than anyone, knew how much I had suffered since my fated mate had been taken one year earlier, stolen in the night by a rival clan because she was our clan’s princess.

  She was my princess.

  Happiness flooded through me. It was tempered with anxiety, though, as I’d heard this before from the Council.

  “Where is she?” I asked slowly, enunciating each word. I was finally going to break free from the bindings the Council had put on me. I would be able to search for her, as I’d wanted to do every day for the last year. I would finally, finally…be able to hold my love.

  No one on the Council would ever guess at my inner thoughts. I’d become a shell of my former self, still huge and brawny, but empty on the inside. Where once there had been a responsible, kind, giving bear, now there was only one thing left for me—being with Cat. But what the Council saw, what anyone that encountered me saw, was a muscled up tall guy with a perpetual frown and a long, bushy beard. And that was it.

  “I won’t tell you where she is until the Council hears your oath,” Paul said, looking stoic in the light of the rage that now emanated from me.

  “WHAT? Paul, so help me—”

  “Let him go,” this from Paul, and I realized that my hands were around his throat and guards were pulling on my arms. To no avail, but still, they tried.

  I released Paul, feeling ‘it’ again. I didn’t remember walking across the room and putting my hands around Paul’s neck. ‘It’ had only started after Cat had been taken. I would forget things that I had said or done, I would ‘wake up’ to find myself having already beaten someone to a bloody pulp—when you came down to it, I was losing time. I hadn’t felt ‘it’ in a long time now, but he was rearing his ugly head again, and right in front of the Council this time.

  Once I backed off, and apologized to Paul, things settled down again. Paul cleared his throat.

  “Ah, yes. As I was saying, we need your oath, Patrick.”

  I had no choice, of this I knew. I’d struck a deal with the devil, and if I didn’t follow through, other innocents would die.

  “Fine,” I said. “But I want your ‘oath’ that my family will be fre
ed immediately after, that they’ll be given a comfortable home somewhere in Wonderland for free, and that you’ll release me from the Hold spell.” I stared each of them down in turn, inwardly pleased when they all looked away first.

  “Yes, Patrick. You will have those things,” Paul replied.

  “Then, get on with it,” I said, ignoring everything else.

  Can I do what they want of me? Am I ready? Cat. Cat, I need you.

  “Put your right hand on the ledger,” Paul said. “Now, repeat after me. I, Patrick Richard Ravenmore, will take my rightful place as Alpha of the Wonderland clan.” My hand hung over the edge of the ledger as I repeated the words that I’d said once before, and that, I believed, had taken my fated mate from me.

  “I will put the clan’s needs before anything else in my life—including family and friends.”

  My hand shook when I repeated that statement, my bear finally prodded enough to start growling. I ignored him, as I finished the blood oath with Paul slicing my arm and gathering my blood-essence, which had been done throughout hundreds of years in Wonderland clan. The alphas of Wonderland clan were fated, just as it was with fated mates. Usually the blood-essence traveled down a family’s lineage, but sometimes it skipped around. So, each cub was tested at birth to discover who would be the next alpha.

  I feel so lucky.

  “Alright, Patrick. It is done. You are Alpha again. As it should have always been!” A wave of growls boomeranged against the walls of the stone chamber.