Warlords, Witches and Wolves: A Fantasy Realms Anthology

by Michelle Diener

  “Because of us.” Owen squatted in front of her. “But we can’t be the only ones who want change. We can use that to our advantage.”

  “And if this all fails? Where does that leave you?”

  “Outcast.” Trouble stirred in the depths of his blue eyes. He knew the risks and had weighed them and found them worthy. “You will find another pack.”

  Or was she now tainted? Would she become a rogue on the run with her outcast wolf? That wasn’t the life she wanted either. The only other option was to go to her father and admit she was wrong, and while her parents would take her back, she’d rather move forward. “I don’t want another pack.”

  “Then let’s start winning people over, starting with those waiting outside with their ears pricked up.” He held out his hand, and she took it and stood.

  She looked at Ajax and Owen, hope filling her chest until she might burst. “Do you have a plan? Or do we step out hand in hand and let them make some assumptions?”

  Ajax nodded. “I knew you had a spark in you, newbie.”

  “Tonight, let’s give the gossip mill some grist to chew on. Tomorrow we work.” Owen pulled her close. “Are you ready?”

  “Yes.”

  He opened the door, and they stepped out hand in hand. Wolves and vampires lingered in the central clearing, chatting like they hung out there every night. They all turned at the open door. She watched as their expressions shifted to shock or wonder or disgust. She quickly catalogued who would be against them.

  Owen lifted her hand. “Fuck the rules, love’s more important!”

  Macey glanced at him, love? Too soon to tell, but she smiled. At least they’d get a chance.

  Birds chirping at the gray dawn woke her. For a moment Macey wasn’t sure where she was. Then the events of last night rushed back in a storm of emotion. The fear and shock, the fight, and her elation at winning then Owen’s banishment from his family and pack. She gasped and turned over. Her ribs were sore but not as painful. Sleeping on the ground by the lake probably hadn’t helped.

  “Did you sleep at all?”

  Owen lay on his back next to her, wide awake and gazing at the sky. “A little.” He smiled, but it was tight. Then he glanced at her. “Not really. I was thinking about everything I need to do.”

  “You have the pack numbers.”

  “I still need the vote.” He rolled onto his side and pulled her closer. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.”

  “But it has. What would you have done if I’d refused to fight?”

  “Fought to win, even though it would’ve made leaving harder.”

  “Why not lose?”

  “For the same reason. People at the bottom are stuck. I’ve spent the last five years reading as much as I can on the rules and different interpretations and who does what. My father wasn’t expecting you.” He smiled and brushed the hair off her face. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

  It was just lust, but her heart melted at the tenderness in his eyes and his touch. When his lips brushed hers the spark between them ignited. His pulse quickened, and all she wanted to do was taste him. Her fangs scraped against his lip and he groaned as though he liked it.

  “Have you ever bitten someone?” he whispered against her lips.

  “No. We aren’t supposed to bite humans, and I’ve never been that hungry.” But she was hungry now. She knew the taste of him and wanted the sweet iron on her tongue. “Biting wolves is forbidden.”

  His heartbeat was music, a siren song calling her to drink.

  She kissed his neck and flicked her tongue over his pulse, expecting him to pull away in fear.

  His heartbeat quickened and against her thigh his dick thickened as though he liked the idea. She drew back not wanting to be tempted any more than she was already. Her fangs ached to sink into his neck.

  “I’m feeling pretty hungry,” he murmured as his hand slid over her ass and ran along the edge of her panties.

  She laughed. “I think that’s horny.”

  With his help she wiggled out of her panties. His fingers swept up her inner thigh and brushed the lips of her pussy, before dipping into her core. He held her gaze. “Do you want to bite me?”

  Did admitting it make her bad? “You taste good.”

  “I’ve heard that it can feel very good.”

  If that was true, why was it forbidden?

  While she’d tasted his blood when her fangs had cut his lip, a bite was different. It was planned and personal not accidental. She rocked her hips needing more than his fingers.

  Owen rolled onto his back and dragged her with him. She sat up and straddled him, undoing his shorts to free his cock. She stroked the length, and he watched with dark eyes as though he couldn’t look away. He ran his hands up her thighs then circled his thumb over her clit. She drew in a breath, moving in rhythm.

  The need knotted in her belly, and her fangs pressed against her lower lip. She’d bite him, taste him as he came. The idea sent a shiver a pleasure through her that was chased by a shudder of release.

  He lifted her hips and thrust into her, filling her. She gasped and took him deeper, then she leaned forward and kissed him so he could feel her fangs.

  “You want me to bite?” She nipped at his lip. Even if she didn’t, the idea that he wanted her to, that maybe she could and that he might like it made her hot.

  His grip on her hips tightened. “Yes.”

  “Are you sure? You’ll be marked.”

  “I want to be marked by you.”

  She kissed along his jaw and he turned his head exposing the rapid pulse in his neck. Biting there was dangerous as too much could go wrong, but she could bite close. She made her way down his neck while he quivered beneath her with anticipation.

  Her fangs pressed against his skin, not hard enough to break it, not yet. She swept her tongue over his skin, tasting and teasing as she moved lower to the base of his neck and the muscle that corded there. “Here?”

  His answer was a groan and a tightening of the grip on her hips.

  But she held off, a little longer, enjoying each slow thrust and the way he moved beneath her. She pressed her fangs hard against his skin, giving him time to change his mind and pull away. He didn’t. He sucked in a breath, and his pulse fluttered beneath her lips.

  “Yes.” His word was a prayer that needed to be answered.

  Macey bit harder than she’d ever done in her life. The way she’d wanted to since growing fangs. He gasped, but not in pain, and his thrusts became more urgent as he came. His blood pooled in her mouth, sweet and hot. She swallowed and licked his skin clean before drawing back and riding him hard, with the taste of him on her tongue and the scent of him on her skin. Her climax rippled through her wild and untamable.

  She was a vampire and she didn’t need to hide or be embarrassed.

  Owen gazed up at her, his eyes dark with lust. His breathing little pants. A line of blood trickled from the bite, but he could hide the wound if he wore a collared shirt.

  She ran her tongue over her lower lip, hoping there was no blood there.

  He flipped her onto her back and kissed her hard, deliberately cutting his lip. “That is something we should definitely do again.”

  “We could have a private run tonight?”

  “I like the sound of that.”

  But they both knew that it may not happen. There was too much to do. The gossip was spreading, and everyone would be watching and waiting. Above her the sky was pink as the sun made its way higher. This stolen morning was coming to an end.

  “Are you ready to be the center of gossip?” Owen asked with a smile.

  “You’re the one with the bite, not me. I’ll protect you from the other wolves.” She’d marked him, and he was hers. No matter what happened with the pack, she’d found her place.

  Also by Shona Husk

  Sci-fi Romance

  Severed

  Hungry Touch

  Obsidian Rim (Dead Suns series)

  Merce
nary Royal, Mercenary Ethics

  Decadent Moon series

  Lunar Exposure #1, Lunar Reunion #2, Lunar Dancer #3

  Dirty Sexy Space series (written with Mel Teshco and Denise Rossetti)

  Yours to Command, Mine to Hold, Ours to Save

  Takamo Universe

  For God and Mars

  Last Run of the Ice Duchess

  Fantasy Romance

  Arcane series

  Dark Vow #1 and Dark Secrets #2

  Warrior Queen

  Saved by the Trickster

  Servant of the Forest

  Paranormal Romance

  Coven of the Raven

  Cursed, Hunted, Embodied, Stolen

  Blood and Silver

  Lady of Silver #1, Warrior of Fire #2, Maid of Ice #3

  Shadowlands series

  The Summons #0.5, The Goblin King #1,

  Kiss of the Goblin Prince #2,

  For the Love of a Goblin Warrior #3

  Annwyn series

  Court of Annwyn

  The Outcast Prince #1, Lord of the Hunt #2,

  The Changeling Soldier #2.5, To Love a King #3

  The Tenth Life of Vicki Torres #3.5

  Court of the Banished

  The Darkling Lord #4

  Singer of Death #5, Taming the Assassin #6

  Bitten Backstage series

  Kissing Phoenix #1, Tasting Thanatos #2,

  Sharing Sirius #3, Enchanting Absinthe #4

  In a Bottle series

  Boyfriend in a Bottle, Temptation in a Bottle,

  Lover in a Bottle

  Brightwater Blood

  An Elemental Tail

  Contemporary Romance

  Secret Confessions: Housewives of Sydney—Meagan

  Secret Confessions: Backstage—Kelly

  In the Spotlight

  Diving into Trouble

  The Messy Maiden

  Close to the Truth

  His Christmas Escape

  Face the Music

  Out of Rhythm, Out of Place, Out of Time, Out of Chances

  About the Author

  Shona Husk lives in Western Australia at the edge of the Indian Ocean. Blessed with a lively imagination she spent most of her childhood making up stories. As an adult she discovered romance novels and hasn’t looked back. Drawing on history and myth, she writes about heroes who are armed and dangerous but have a heart of gold—sometimes literally.

  With stories ranging from sensual to scorching, she writes paranormal, fantasy, sci-fi and contemporary romance. You can find out more at:

  www.shonahusk.com | Email | Newsletter

  Courting The Witch

  A Four Arts novella by MJ Scott

  About Courting the Witch

  Desire or duty...which will woo a witch?

  Jean-Paul du Laq knows Imogene Carvelle wants a glittering career as an Imperial Mage and isn’t inclined to marry. She’s absolutely not the kind of girl the son of a duq should consider for anything more than a dalliance but to Jean-Paul, Imogene shines brighter than the sun, and he’s determined to win her heart…

  For all the authors writing the stories helping everyone escape right now. You rock.

  Chapter 1

  Lieutenant Imogene Carvelle held on to the leather strap that was all that was keeping her from being bounced off the unyielding seat of the charguerre and wished devoutly to be anywhere else.

  Three weeks of one uncomfortable, too hot or too cold, bone-shaking conveyance after another to return to Lumia from Reyshaka. She did not begrudge her emperor, His Imperial Majesty Aristides Delmar de Lucien, her services—in fact, she was most grateful for the opportunities and adventures it had afforded her thus far—but she remained baffled that his Imperial Army could not come up with some more comfortable modes of long-distance transportation. At least now that they were back in Illvya, the weather was far more pleasant than the icy conditions in the empire's far north.

  The charguerre shuddered to a halt, and the door opened. "Last break before Lumia. Do what you will," one of the sergeants bellowed, and her squad companions began to climb out, muttering various degrees of complaint and relief. She was last to leave the charguerre and she headed straight for the queue that would be forming for tea and whatever the last of their food supplies was to fuel the remaining three hours to the city. Her other squad mates would be gossiping or finding a handy spot to relieve themselves or taking time to stretch their legs, but she wanted nothing more than tea and a few minutes in the relative quiet of the countryside before having to climb back into the noisy iron box that was the charguerre. She joined the end of the queue and, while she waited, sent her magic seeking down for a ley line. It took a minute or so to find the closest one. It was weak, but she pulled a little power, using the magic to chase away some of the fatigue making her bones ache.

  "Are you looking forward to being home, Lieutenant?"

  She blinked up at the speaker. Captain Honore Brodier was regular army, not part of the Imperial Mages as Imogene was, and one of the leaders of the company who had escorted the mages on their diplomatic mission. She was tall and blonde, showing her Elenian ancestral roots in the glacial blue of her eyes. Some of the squad called her, unoriginally, the Ice Queen, but she had always been kind to Imogene.

  But the question, well-intentioned as Honore may be, was difficult to answer. "It will be nice to see my family," Imogene said as they stepped closer to the wooden trestle table that held hastily heated kettles of water.

  "Keen to get back out, are you?" Honore said with a smile. She had a few years on Imogene's twenty-four, and the experience to go with them.

  "Yes," Imogene said. There was no point denying it. She'd spent her first year in the Imperial mages doing mainly desk work and standard magic at one of the army’s administrative centers just outside Lumia. She'd put her head down, worked hard, and won the respect of her captain, who'd recommended her for the Diplomatic Corps she'd been so eager to join. Her first mission had been a diplomatic assignment like this one—to Andalyssia, a part of the empire no more warm, though supposedly less wild than Reyshaka.

  She wasn't sure she agreed with that assessment. The Andalyssians had been aloof, the magic they practiced bound up in a worship of nature that was somehow ponderous and secretive. Even thinking of it now, she could smell the moss and peat and salted ash that perfumed the court, an aroma from the ritual fires they burned continuously that seemed to permeate the entire frigid country. The magic she'd caught glimpses of seemed smoke-wreathed and heavy. The Andalyssians recognized earth and water and air and blood in their magic, as Illvya did, but they did not use them in the same way. Their ley lines were deep and old and resistant to Imogene's attempts to tap that power in a way that had made her glad there were soldiers as well as diplomats on that mission. A mission plagued by disasters and headed by a fool who no longer served His Imperial Majesty. Not that any of it had been Imogene's fault, but the army had shunted her into six months of boring, short-term courier assignments before deciding she'd done her time and could try again. It had seemed an eternity while she waited for the stink of disaster—which might always be linked to those Andalyssian memories—to clear from her.

  Reyshaka had been a second chance. One she’d seized. She liked to think she’d succeeded in her duties. And, despite the discomforts of the climate, she’d found it fascinating.

  She was very much hoping not to get stuck in Lumia again for more than a few weeks, if only because being stationed so close to home would give her mother more opportunities to tout the wonders of marriage and plot Imogene’s betrothal. Imogene's two older sisters were both married, as was her brother, and her youngest sister had just become engaged. Which left Imogene as the sole target of her mother's matchmaking tendencies.

  As much as she missed her family and her friends—her best friend, Chloe Matin, in particular—she was not yet keen to settle down. Not when she'd just begun seeing some of the corners of the empire she'd grown up reading about
.

  She accepted tea as Honore said, "I'll be glad of a rest. This is my ninth extended mission in a row. Sometimes I think my backside will never regain feeling."

  They both turned and looked at the line of solid square charguerres and the chunky fer-taureaus that pulled them, grimacing in unison. The fer-taureaus were modeled after iron bulls, but they looked about as much like actual bulls as the charguerre did like carriages. And their gait was less graceful than any real animal.

  "Your father is an ingenier, is he not?" Honore asked. "Maybe when you get home, you should ask him how to make those damned things more comfortable."

  "An ingenier, but not a mage ingenier. I asked him once. He said he would have to inspect one to know what might be possible. But he thought it would be difficult to improve the ride much without altering the structure in ways that might weaken them."

  "We're doomed, then," Honore said, pushing her free hand into the small of her back. "Maybe I should try for a sea voyage next. Ships don't bounce."

  Imogene shrugged, smiling. "They roll, though. And sink. And there's always more travel when you disembark." And ships were still slow. Even the fastest courier craft were at the mercy of the ocean and the winds.

  The part of her that was her father's daughter stowed the problem away to chew on at another time. She was a diplomat, not a mage ingenier, and in another three hours, she would be home in Lumia. Where she would be putting in the work to make sure she stayed a diplomat.

  She stared back at the charguerres. Cesarus, the familiaris sanctii bonded to Major Fontaine, the senior mage for this mission, was standing near the last one in the line. He was very still, as was his nature, but Imogene thought she'd caught his eye and waved as she would to any other member of the squad.