Warlords, Witches and Wolves: A Fantasy Realms Anthology

by Michelle Diener

  She sniffed and tried not to smile, but the pure adoration in his eyes warmed her heart.

  She joked, “I guess having no mana counts for something right?”

  The grin that split his blue lips was contagious. He cupped her jaw and brushed a trembling thumb along her skin. “Anise, you have something, or else you’d have aged at a human rate.”

  She blinked. “But I felt nothing when I touched the sword.”

  “The Well works in mysterious ways, and I can’t explain it, but it’s true. You have enough of the Well inside that you are fae. We can live here in Elphyne where the land flourishes. You don’t have to manipulate the magic to appreciate it. As long as we’re together, isn’t that enough?”

  She looked deep into his eyes. “Are we together?”

  Worry flared in his gaze. “I hope so. I mean, I want to… don’t you? That kiss… um.”

  His ears reddened and his cheeks reddened in a blush.

  Well-damn, it was the most adorable thing she’d ever seen, and it gave her the courage to say, “I want to be more than together. I want to be mated with you.”

  Chapter 9

  The sweetest words had come out of Anise’s mouth, but Caraway couldn’t give her the answer she needed. Not only was the cold in his system taking over, but he didn’t know if mating was in his future as a Guardian.

  He shivered uncontrollably. Concern replaced the light in Anise’s eyes.

  “We have to get you somewhere warm,” she said.

  He nodded. “P-Portal stone in my p-pocket-t.”

  She dug into his pants pocket and drew out a smooth stone that she placed in his cold, shaking fingers. He gave the frozen museum a scathing once-over—there had been no evidence that the witch had been working with the humans, but Caraway hadn’t really had time to conduct a thorough investigation and those gargoyles definitely weren’t natural.

  Now he’d been here, he could create his own portal stone back. All he needed was something native to the place.

  “I need to c-collect some s-snow,” he said. “F-for a portal stone.”

  Anise nodded and rifled around her bag for her waterskin. She emptied it and scooped some snow in. It would do.

  He activated the portal, right there inside the hall. The transference of energy ripped a hole in space and time. He held out a hand to Anise. Before she took it, she collected her dagger from the throne and gave the dead witch one last look. Caraway thought he saw pity in her eyes and wondered what had transpired while he’d been frozen.

  Then Anise took his hand and together they walked through the portal. They arrived not at the Order, as he’d thought, but on the snow-dusted sandy banks of a sacred lake near Rush’s cabin. Rush and Clarke had lived here for two years while they raised their newborn away from society.

  The sun dipped beyond the horizon, and darkness loomed.

  Caraway searched in his pockets for the other portal stone, the one that would take them back to the Order, but Anise stopped him.

  “Look,” she said and pointed to the wooden cabin set near some trees.

  Smoke curled from the chimney.

  “It’s Rush’s c-cabin,” he explained, still stuttering from the cold. “Before I left the Order, Clarke s-sent me a portal stone that came here.”

  Anise grinned. “Gotta love that psychic human. Wish all of them were like her. It’s getting dark and the cabin looks warm. Let’s make camp for the night.”

  He gave her a quizzical look.

  Anise elaborated. “Where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”

  She took his cold hand and pulled him toward the cabin. On the porch, they kicked the snow from their boots and then entered the one-room cabin. Inside was a bed, a kitchen counter, and a crackling fireplace with two small fire sprites dancing on a log to keep it smoldering. One male, one female. They paused upon Caraway’s and Anise’s entry and squeaked at the intrusion.

  Caraway showed them the spent portal stone. “C-Clarke invited us.”

  The sprites—glowing red and orange figures made of flames—stared and then resumed their dancing, ignoring Anise and Caraway.

  But the heat... it was divine.

  Caraway shuffled closer to the fireplace and crouched low. He held his palms out and let the warmth suffuse his body, vaguely aware of Anise’s bustling behind him in the kitchen. When she brought a ceramic pot filled with soup over to the fire, he realized she’d been cooking and a few minutes had gone by.

  “There were root vegetables under the counter,” she explained and placed the pot so it would cook.

  The sprites grew curious and looked over the pot at the contents.

  Once satisfied the sprites weren’t going to cause mischief, Anise turned to Caraway with a determined look on her face.

  “Time to get you out of the wet clothes.”

  His lips twitched. The fire was doing its job superbly at warming and drying him. He didn’t need to, but he wanted to, so he let her systematically set about helping him out of his Guardian uniform. First, she removed his baldric and sword, then his boots. When she got to his jacket, he was already warmed up and getting hotter by the second. Her touch took the chill away more than any fire could.

  This female, his friend who’d shared so much with him, was taking care of him. No one had done so since his youth—since before his mother and father had branded him as a violent anarchist.

  This female, with whom he was irrevocably in love with, had saved his life.

  He watched with reverence as she unpicked the bone-stud buttons down the center of his jacket.

  Flickering firelight cast a glow on her face, softening her features. He found himself becoming breathless from her beauty. She felt her dark-rimmed eyes were too wolf-like, but he found them stunning. She hated the black smudge of color at the tip of her nose, but he wanted to lick it. She tried to hide her extra arched ears by wearing a leather cord around her head, but he smiled where the ears stubbornly poked through the fall of black hair.

  It was all Anise. It made her unique. It made her more, and it made her the one he loved.

  She frowned as she peeled his jacket from his arms and shook it out. “It’s so heavy and soggy,” she murmured and then searched for a place to hang it. She found a hook on the back of the front door.

  When she returned, she caught the heated look in Caraway’s stare and blanched.

  “What?” she asked. “Why are you staring?”

  His lips curved on one side. “Because you’re beautiful.”

  She ignored him and pointed at the rest of his wet clothes, his white shirt, and pants. “You should probably take it all off.”

  His grin widened and his laugh boomed out from deep in his belly. “You know, if you wanted to get my clothes off, there were easier ways of going about it than to get a witch to steal my soul.”

  It was meant to be a joke, but the pain in her eyes was real.

  “Oh no,” he murmured and reached for her hand. “I didn’t mean it like that. It was a joke. Stupid.”

  Her lips flattened and she looked away. “I almost got you killed.”

  “I’m fine, Anise,” he whispered. “And I’m not blameless here. I should have told you the truth about why I was with you. The Order may have given me the mission to follow you to the Ice-Witch, but it was because a prisoner had mentioned her name during interrogation. I was too much of a coward to come and find you myself and, for that, I’ll never be sorry enough. But let me be clear, I’m not sorry the mission brought me back to you.”

  After his words were done, silence hung in the air. Then she slowly lifted her gaze to his.

  “You said ‘sorry’,” she said.

  He nodded. A spoken apology, or thank you, from one fae to another was an acknowledgment of debt. It gave a legally binding reason to forge a bargain to repay the debt. Caraway was essentially putting his life in Anise’s hands. It was also known that debts were not acted on between family because they woul
d do anything for their loved ones anyway.

  How she responded would determine their future with each other.

  “I’m sorry too,” she said. “I should never have placed the blame on you for my capture two years ago, but you were the closest friend I had. You were the safest avenue. And if I didn’t blame you, then I had to blame myself.”

  She flared her lashes in a way that made Caraway think she was trying not to cry, and when a tear spilled free anyway, it broke his heart.

  He trailed a thumb across her cheek to wipe the moisture away. “Anise, what happened to you could have happened to anyone.”

  “But none of the shifters were caught.” A sob wracked her body. “If I had the power, I could have protected myself.”

  “But you can protect yourself.” He shook her gently. “You lived on your own in Cornucopia for years. You killed a troll and saved a baby. You bloody-well killed the Ice-Witch!” His eyes widened with the realization. “You’re incredible, Anise. And you can’t shift. You can’t use mana to cast spells. So Well-damned what? You’re more amazing for it.”

  He ran his hands down her arms and circled to her back where he let his touch glide down over the tail poking from her pants. She startled and looked up at him.

  He grinned. “You can touch my horns.”

  It was meant to be a joke, to show that they were the same inside and out, but his voice came out low and rough, and once it emitted, he couldn’t stop the train of his thoughts. Yes, he wanted her to touch him. Everywhere.

  She licked his lips and then raked her heated gaze down his front. “That’s not where I want to touch you.”

  His cock hardened instantly.

  “Anise,” he croaked. Begged.

  Her fingers curled beneath the hem of his shirt and lifted slowly. He sucked in a breath, abs curling inward, as her fingers brushed his stomach. She kept lifting. He raised his arms so she could remove his shirt, and then she started working on the drawstrings of his pants.

  “Anise,” he murmured.

  “Shh,” she scolded. “I’m enjoying this.”

  He was too, but desire raged inside him like an inferno. He was hard, tense, and coiled tight. When she slid his pants down his thighs, her hair brushed his skin. He threw his head back and cursed loudly. Every time she touched him, his senses sparked like fireworks. She lifted each of his feet to slide his pants free, and when she was done, he scooped his hands under her arms and lifted her clear off the ground.

  With a molten, golden gaze, she wrapped her legs around his waist and cupped his face to snarl against his lips. “Last chance, Car. Once I start this with you, I won’t stop. I’ll mark you as mine.”

  The wolf-shifters marked their mates to prove to the world they were together. The thought of her teeth on his neck ripped a growl of approval from his throat and he slammed his lips on hers, only pulling back to say, “I’ve always been yours. I’m ready.”

  Chapter 10

  Anise sank her fangs into the thick column of Caraway’s neck. Her hormones went haywire and a mating-musk scent seeped from her pores, coating Caraway. Usually, two shifters marked each other. Caraway wasn’t a wolf, but he was fae, and mating in any fae race was classed as a serious union of commitment. He was ready. So was she.

  She clutched him tightly as she bit down.

  He moaned, his eyes rolled back, and he staggered toward the bed where he landed heavily with her on top of him. She laved at the wound she’d created with loving care and relished the evidence of their commitment. He didn’t wait long before he started peeling her clothes from her body. First, her cape. Then her shirt, and then his thick fingers were digging into her pants, fumbling at the buttons.

  Somehow, they managed to both end up completely naked, sweaty, and in each other's arms. She thought she would be ashamed of being like this with him, but when he looked at her body... especially her breasts... his eyes heated with desire. A hungry growl rumbled from his throat and he latched onto her nipple, sucking greedily and sending showers of bliss coursing through her body.

  They kissed and touched and played with each other, savoring this new level of intimacy. There was no doubt. He’d let her mark him, and from the way he fervently touched her and kissed her, it turned him on as much as it did her.

  He rolled so he was on top and fit his hips between her legs. He took his erection in hand and entered her in one slick motion. She gasped, back bowing, as she adjusted to the sensation of him filling her. Moans and groans filled the room as they adjusted to the new onslaught of sensations, then he gave a self-satisfied masculine grunt and kissed her lips. Meeting her eyes, he braced his hands on either side of her head.

  “You ready?” he asked, voice gravelly.

  She lifted her hips. “Yes.”

  “I’m claiming you tonight, too. Are you ready?” he repeated, intense brown eyes pinned her so hard she lost her breath.

  All she could do was nod and hold on as he pulled out and thrust back in until there was no doubt in her mind that he claimed her more thoroughly than any bite mark. Theirs was a claiming of hearts, bodies, and minds. Of futures and of pasts. Of wolves, fae, shifters, and ox. It didn’t matter what they looked like, only what they felt. Their love was forged from ice and fire, from kisses and wishes. And it was real.

  Anise woke entwined with Caraway’s muscular, naked body. She was so happy, she didn’t want to leave, but one look at the black leather Guardian jacket hanging on the door hook reminded her of reality. They might have claimed each other, but it didn’t mean the world would let them be together.

  A Guardian warrior, and a lesser fae.

  The world was full of cruel boundaries.

  She sighed and rested her head on his shoulder. Her exhale ruffled the hair on his chest. His rumble of appreciation brought a smile to her lips so she ran her fingers through the coarse hair, wanting to elicit more sounds from her sleeping giant. His hand snapped up and swallowed hers whole, and then he directed it downward with a cheeky smirk, keeping his eyes closed the entire time.

  “So demanding, already.” She laughed.

  He chuckled. It came from deep in his belly and sent Anise’s hormones crazy. She’d always loved his laugh. It was so genuine, so real, and she never wanted to lose it again.

  He must have sensed the change in her mood because when he looked down at her, a solemn shadow flittered in his eyes. He rolled to face her and gently traced fingers down her arm.

  “We’ll figure it out, Anise,” he promised.

  “You can’t quit being a Guardian.” She touched the glowing blue teardrop tattoo beneath his right eye. “It’s a part of you.”

  His brows joined in the middle. “So are you.”

  “How will we make this work, then?”

  He shrugged. “Live with me at the Order.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “It is for Rush and Clarke, and Thorne and Laurel.”

  “But they’re Well-blessed. Their union is honored above all else, especially by an organization that worships the Well.”

  “We don’t worship it. We respect it and work to keep it flourishing. There’s a difference.” Darkness formed in his eyes. “And I don’t care if our union is blessed by the Well. I’m not leaving you again. They can all go and fu—”

  “Shhh.” She put a finger on his lips and sat up. Her ears twitched as she picked up voices. “Someone is outside.”

  She’d never seen Caraway move so fast, but within seconds, he was out of the bed. He threw a blanket over her and collected Justice. Heedless of his nudity, he went to the window and peered through. All the tension left his shoulders as his eyes latched onto their visitors, and then he turned back to her with confusion.

  “It’s Rush and Thorne.”

  She sat up with a squeak. “Don’t let them inside until I’m dressed.”

  He went back to the window. “Clarke and Laurel are also here. And Willow.”

  “What?” Willow was Rush’s and Clarke’s s
mall daughter.

  Caraway nodded and slipped on his pants. “Maybe Clarke saw something in a vision. Could be why she sent me the portal stone. I’ll go and greet them. You get dressed.”

  He put on his shirt and rested his sword by the door then went outside. While he was gone, Anise made quick work of clothing herself, and then straightened the cabin as much as she could. It wouldn’t do to have the owner arrive and see it in such disarray. Thankfully the sprites had redirected the flames from burning the pot overnight. Only half of the wood smoldered. The soup was cold but not inedible. When she was done straightening the room, she put on her boots and ventured outside.

  Fresh morning air greeted her. At least it wasn’t snowing. Down on the shore of the lake, Caraway spoke with the two Guardians, while Laurel and Clarke collected stones with Willow by the waterside. Clarke’s red hair was unmissable, and Laurel’s dark bob just the same.

  Anise didn’t realize how tense she was until she saw the women were a distance away from her new mate. Her body viscerally relaxed, but the underlying protective mode was still there. It was a wolf instinct. She was sure it happened to the males of the species more, but she still had to make an effort to calm herself down. When she had, a new kind of anxiety entered her system. She didn’t know which group of visitors to go to first. She’d not truly met Laurel, but had served her at the Birdcage elixir den in Cornucopia.

  Anise was saved from making her decision when Willow spotted she was out of the cabin, squealed, and ran toward her with unrestrained delight. Anise had not formally met the little girl either but had heard about her stark white hair from Thorne. She was a halfling—half wolf-shifter, half-human—but one-hundred percent tenacious.

  Willow’s little legs brought her closer to Anise with every squeal. As she neared, Anise recognized the squeals were words.

  “Gray is coming. Gray is coming!” Willow barreled past Anise and up to the cabin porch where she grinned and whirled around, hiding behind a wooden pole, intently watching the horizon of the nearby woods where an old wolf emerged, sniffed the air, and then spotted Rush. He trotted over, sniffed him too, and then yipped before heading up to the cabin to meet Willow.