Cimmerian Shade: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance & Urban Fantasy Collection

by Kiki Howell

  Gasping, she wrapped her arms around his neck and made an involuntary sound deep in her throat when he nipped the tip of her tongue. He anchored her with one strong arm and hand under her bottom, then wrapped her hair around his fist. Yanking her head back, he used his teeth, trailing a path from her jawline to the small hollow between her collarbones where the stone lay.

  Before she could recover from one sensation, he whispered in her ear, “You never answered my question, Lady Treva.”

  His warm breath activated something primal, and she framed his face with her palms just before tearing into his back with her nails, claiming him once and for all. “I’m answering your question as we speak, Lord Drayden.”

  She heard Drayden moan, deep in his throat as he reared his head back, and their eyes met. She couldn’t identify the look in his gaze, but then he smiled, carrying her across the room with her nails still gripping his back. She felt his cock pressing into her stomach, bouncing slightly as he walked, then tightened her arms and thighs around him, hungry for more.

  Drayden placed one of his knees on the bed, still supporting her, her legs wrapped around him, then placed his palms at her back. Trembling, she searched his eyes, seeking the hypnotic fire in their depths, and his heated gaze swept her body, lingering in strategic places, the look of hunger unmistakable. Gently placing her head and shoulders on the pillow, Drayden caressed her breasts with his fingertips, one breast in each of his large hands as he massaged and rubbed her taut nipples with his thumbs. The skin on his hands felt rough, as if he worked with them on a daily basis, and the added friction stoked her desire for more of his touch.

  He grazed her rib cage, then slid his palms down her hips, along her thighs, and continued until he reached the sensitive spots behind her knees. She jerked involuntarily, her body reacting without her consent. Drayden glanced up and the love in his gaze took her breath away. Lost in a sea of pleasure, she watched as he slid lower, lower, massaging her calves, then positioning her feet on his shoulders, his head between her legs as he knelt there.

  He nipped the tender flesh of her inner thigh. She caught her breath again only to let it out on a moan when he flattened his tongue against her swollen clit and began a slow vibration that escalated from adagio to andante to allegro. Now, the foreign sounds coming from her mouth matched his rhythm, growing faster, her pitch climbing higher and higher until she reached the precipice, undulating against his talented tongue, and tumbled, floating as she rode the breaking wave.

  As soon as the orgasm began to subside and her body became her own again...or so she thought, Drayden covered her with his weight, his muscular thighs between hers, pivoted his hips, and plunged inside her again without preamble, deeper than the first time, his long, thick cock filling her completely.

  Again, her inner walls gripped him, stretching and giving way as he infiltrated every inch of her swollen, ultra-sensitive flesh. They moved together, their bodies perfectly attuned as if their bodies had known one another forever. The hardness of Drayden’s body, along with his sheer weight, heightened the level of pleasure, but she acted suddenly when the urge struck her, clamping her thighs at his waist to throw him off and flipping on top of him. She balanced her hands on his shoulders, quickly developing a rhythm as she swiveled her hips to allow him deeper access.

  He supported her with his hands as she arched her back, but her takeover did not last long. Drayden wrapped one of his strong arms around her and flipped her onto her back again. He then lifted her legs over his shoulders to allow even deeper penetration, and thrust inside her again in a smooth series of movements.

  Her entire being responded to him with raw hunger, a need she never knew existed within her, and he filled it, penetrating every corner, every secret place with whatever un-nameable essence that made him Drayden.

  Drayden shuddered, and his call echoed through her, filling her entire core and radiating throughout her body like powerful tentacles. Her mind and body erupted, dissipating into a million pieces, while she hovered somewhere in an altered state of consciousness where pictures and visions of Drayden in another time and place began to resurface from her dream.

  Treva stared at him, mesmerized. Her body still convulsed with carnal pleasure, her mind a war-ravaged wasteland, completely powerless to control her body’s responses as pieces of her soul started to find their way back to her, forming some semblance of order. Drayden had entered a place no other man had ever been allowed to glimpse, let alone come close to...finally uniting sexual intimacy with her soul.

  With Drayden cuddling her from behind, his hand wrapped around her waist, Treva felt serenity like she had never imagined, as if she could finally move on with her life. She didn’t want to shatter the moment by speaking, so she remained silent for hours, just absorbing the visions he had just shown her during their lengthy lovemaking session. She turned to face him and rested her torso atop his chest, arms akimbo as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sensation of his skin against hers.

  When she opened her eyes, Drayden was watching her. His smile and the look in his eyes, simmering, dark depths, sent a flush of warmth through her, nearly taking her breath away.

  “You know, I’ve been thinking. I don’t think this...fantasy is gonna be bad at all, but wouldn’t it be exciting to keep working for Shoftiel...as a couple, I mean?”

  Drayden’s smile widened as he cupped her face. “I suppose I’ll never take the place of your need for excitement. As you wish, my lady, but as a couple. No more lone avenger escapades.”

  “Good. We can let him know when I move into your castle. You will be inviting me to move in with you, right? You’ll have to show me how to get in and out of there on my own, first.”

  “You’ve had the key all along,” he said.

  She frowned. “The stone?”

  He nodded. “It opens the portal. In fact, since we’re on the subject,” Drayden gently lifted her from his torso, then stood. Broadening his smile, he dropped to one knee and offered her the 3 Carat diamond ring that suddenly appeared in his hand. “I realize we haven’t known each other long, but we are eternally connected, and I was told that your parents didn’t know one another for long before they married. Nothing would make me happier than sharing the rest of my life with you. Please say you’ll marry me.”

  Treva didn’t need to think about it for a second. Her instincts were always dead-on, and she loved Drayden completely. Sliding from the bed, she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed him to pull her closer until she rested on his lap with her knees on either side of his hips. “Yes,” she whispered, nipping his earlobe, then covering his mouth with hers as she inhaled his hypnotic, masculine scent.

  He placed the diamond on her finger. “Would you prefer a long engagement or a short one, my lady?”

  She pressed her hands against his chest for leverage, then stood, climbing back in bed as she winked her finger at him to join her. “Details, details. Let’s make that decision whenever it strikes us. Right now, I just want to lie here with you next to me and enjoy this moment.”

  She kissed him again when he joined her, then rested her head on his chest with a contented sigh. With Drayden’s help, she had managed to exact justice and help her benefactor in the process, and their adventures were just getting started. Drayden had changed her life in ways she couldn’t begin to count, and most of all, she wasn’t alone anymore. She’d never imagined how this would feel, sharing her life with someone again, and she wanted to take the time to fully embrace it. Treva couldn’t think of anyone better suited to the task of sending evil where it belonged. After all, it was in her blood, and her soon-to-be husband promised a lifetime of excitement.

  The End

  About the Author

  DARIEL RAYE IS an animal lover, animal rights activist, musician, and award-winning author of powerful paranormal romance and dark urban fantasy with IR/MC (Interracial/Multi-cultural) alpha male heroes to die for, and strong heroines with hearts worth winning. She is a mezzo-
soprano who fell in love with books and started reciting stories at the age of 3. She also plays over 11 musical instruments, including piano, organ, brass, and percussion.

  Her stories tell of shifters, vamps, angels, demons, and fey (the Vodouin variety). Dariel is currently writing three series: “Dark Sentinels” (wolf shifters), “Orlosian Warriors” (Vampire-like Nephilim), and “Gateway” (a crossover paranormal/urban fantasy suspense with romantic elements).

  More about Dariel and Her Books

  Dark Sentinels Series

  “Dark Sentinels Book One: Sable”

  “Dark Sentinels Book Two: Torin”

  “Dark Sentinels Prequel”

  “Dark Sentinels Book Three: Parrish” (coming soon)

  Orlosian Warriors Series

  “Calm Assurance: Orlosian Warriors Bk. 1”

  “Destiny’s Favor: Orlosian Warriors Bk. 2”

  “Outreach: An Orlosian Warriors Novella” (Summer, 2017)

  “Gideon’s Light: Orlosian Warriors Bk. 3” (coming soon)

  Stand-alone Books

  “Dai’s Dark Valentine”

  “Divine Passage” (Summer, 2017)

  For updates, excerpts, and previews

  Website: http://darielraye.com

  Musings (supporting other authors, and a little of everything): http://www.pendarielraye.com

  For more about Dariel, follow her blog, http://www.pendarielraye.com, or visit her website for excerpts from her books, http://darielraye.com. She also publishes a new release newsletter, http://eepurl.com/cj8Vwj. If you enjoyed this book, please post a review on review sites. You can also follow and contact her on Twitter@Pendarielraye, or Facebook, http://www.facebook.com/authordarielraye.

  Rose Tears

  A Tangled Threads Novella

  by Amanda Pillar

  Cover Design: Amanda Pillar © 2017

  Edited by: Pete Kempshall

  First Published July 2017

  The moral rights of the author have been asserted.

  All characters in this publication, other than those clearly in the public domain, are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Dedication

  To Sare. ‘Cos you wanted something else to read.

  Rose Tears

  A Tangled Threads Novella

  by Amanda Pillar

  Death is coming for Lori Hardcastle.

  Half-Succubus, half-Sídhe, Lori has been on the run since she was seventeen. Worried that her vengeful family will find her, she’s been hiding in the Borderlands, a magical plane nestled between the fae and human worlds. However, when her path crosses that of a dangerously sexy fullblooded fae, will she be able to survive the encounter?

  Conrad Death is a cleaner (he doesn’t like the term ‘assassin’) for the fae White Queen. His latest mission: find the half-breed daughter of the Count of Tears. Easy. Except no one knows what she looks like, her real age, or even what name she uses. However, Conrad isn’t daunted by simple details – he’s finished every job he’s ever started. But when he meets a smoking hot Succubus in a Borderlands bar, his life is thrown into turmoil.

  Prologue

  FORTY YEARS AGO

  The County of Tears, the Borderlands

  Laurel NoName was a bastard, an orphan and a whore, at least according to Cook. But since Laurel was eleven years old and hadn’t ever even held a boy’s hand, she knew the last accusation was a lie. The other two were unfortunately correct, at least as far as she knew.

  “Are you sure that’s exactly how you want to phrase it?”

  Laurel paused in her sweeping and glanced up at the two adults on the small platform that had been erected in the main hall. Stone walls soared high above, creating a cavernous feel. Lord Paynters, the Count of Tears, stood in the center of the podium, clothed in black from neck to toe. The speaker was an old woman, her steel-gray hair swept up in a fancy style, and wearing a garish purple dress that looked a bit like an extravagant sack.

  “Of course I am sure.” The count’s voice was like a whip.

  The woman just shrugged. “Fine.”

  Laurel stared – no one was ever that dismissive with the count. Ever.

  The grandmotherly woman reached down and picked up a small wooden frame that was covered in fine, silken threads. She dragged a small table to the middle of the stage, and placed the loom on it.

  Glancing quickly down at her feet, Laurel began sweeping again. A Sheerra. Here.

  It must have something to do with the special event that was to be held today. People were already milling about the castle’s courtyard, all wearing their finest clothing. Laurel had drawn the shortest straw in the kitchens, and was doing the final tidy-up before they opened the doors. The count wanted everything to be perfect, and if it wasn’t, there’d be hell to pay.

  As Laurel worked her way around the stage, she heard the Sheerra say, “I want a blood vow.”

  “Why would I do that?”

  “If this doesn’t work for whatever reason – and weaving fate is never certain – I want a guarantee that you won’t hurt me or mine afterward.”

  “Absolutely not. You screw this up, you die.”

  “Then no deal.” The Sheerra picked up her weaving and turned to walk off the stage.

  “I will kill you where you stand.” The count held up a hand.

  Laurel had heard that he could boil a person’s blood in their veins. It was an unusual ability for a Sídhe, but he was rumored to have been the White Queen’s executioner. And while there wasn’t always a lot of fact behind rumors, Laurel didn’t doubt this one. The count scared her.

  “You aren’t the only one with an ability,” the Sheerra said. “You kill me, this weaving will go with me. And guess what’s on it? Your family, your bloodline. It will be destroyed and you and yours will suffer. And then my kin will avenge me. You want that?”

  The count’s posture went ramrod straight, and Laurel could feel the hate emanating from him. Keep sweeping, she thought. Now was not a good time to get noticed.

  “Fine,” the count said through gritted teeth. A flash of silver, and a hiss.

  “Vow that you will not kill, hurt, maim, or disadvantage me or mine in any way. And that you will not organize for any of those things to happen no matter the outcome of this weaving.”

  “Really?”

  “Vow or I leave right now, and you can tell all those fancy folks out there that your special presentation isn’t happening.”

  He repeated the vow, and Laurel hurriedly moved away from the stage, trying to keep her brush strokes as quiet as possible. She made her way to the servant’s entrance.

  “Girl!” The bellowed order froze Laurel, crouched low over her broom.

  She glanced up, biting her lip. “My lord?”

  “Tell the butler it is time to start.”

  LAUREL’S CHEEK THROBBED, and she gingerly placed a cool palm against the hot flesh. The butler hadn’t been pleased about her interrupting his duties, no matter that she’d been told to do so. Lower-level servants like her did not talk to people like him, let alone any of the guests. Thank the stars that the count hadn’t asked her to speak to any of them.

  Avoiding the glare of the senior servant, Laurel surveyed the room from her spot in a darkened corner. The chamber was full to the brim with fae nobles: she hadn’t ever seen so many crammed into one room. And so many different types. Her eyes wide, she took in the stunningly beautiful Sídhe, the many-tailed Kitsune, willowy Tuatha de Danann and the pale-haired Tylwyth Teg. She didn’t think half of these people had ever been to the Borderlands before. Most never left the fae world of the Hills, at least, not that she’d heard of.

  The Borderlands were for unwanted humans, pureblooded fae who couldn’t hold a title in one of the four courts, and halfbreeds like her. The Human World was on the other side of the Borderlands – she’d never been there, and didn’t ever want to go. So little magic, and too many humans. It didn’t matter that
fae were apparently celebrated on the other side; everything there was different. Their sky never even changed color!

  A loud cheer came from the crowd, and Laurel focused on the stage. There, the count stood proudly with his two children behind him. The elder of the pair, Jayden, posed with his chest puffed out and his chin tilted up, his silvery-blue hair slicked back. He was a bully who pinched any servant he could get his grubby fingers near. The count’s daughter seemed to hide within the shadows, while the Sheerra stood to one side, a strange half-smile on her lips.

  Lord Tears’ voice soared through the chamber. “Today we mark the occasion of my firstborn’s tenth birthday. As the family tradition dictates, he will be rewarded for his study and dedication to date.”

  Study and dedication?

  Laurel frowned. Jayden was never near his books. At least, not that she’d heard from the other servants. And servants, she’d learned, knew everything there was to know about their masters.

  The count waved the Sheerra forward.

  “As my family has done before me, so I will do for my children. Today you shall all witness the rare magic of a Transfer Spell.”

  Gasps and murmurs sounded through the crowd, and Laurel craned her neck to see what the fae were doing.

  What is a Transfer Spell?

  Jayden straightened his spine even further, if that was possible. The count laid a gentle hand on his son’s shoulder. Laurel’s mouth dropped open. She’d never seen Lord Tears be anything other than, well, frightening.

  The Sheerra stepped forward, and the chatter in the room died. All eyes locked on the woman’s form, rivetted.

  “I am Mrs. McKenzie, of the McKenzie Sheerras,” she said.

  Is she very famous, then?

  “Today, I have woven the fate of the Paynters’ bloodline. May the firstborn of Melvyn Paynters, Count of Tears, be the recipient of the Transfer Spell. All the magics of Melvyn Paynters shall transfer to his firstborn kin upon his demise, as has been done for centuries before.”