His species, not hers.
The Dardaptoan bloodsucker had told him of the rogue Lupoiux wolves roaming these woods. They were from the same pack that had attacked his daughter and niece two months ago. Jason wanted them dead but first had to protect the woman. The human.
A short feminine scream echoed through the night. Jason veered left, urgency and rage filling him. They would not touch her. Not while he lived.
****
Dr. Annabelle Macgregor ran, faster than she had ever run in her life. Branches tore at the bare skin of her arms, ripped her hair free of the plastic clip that held it.
They were so close she could almost feel their breath on her as she fled them. Whatever they were.
She scrambled over a large log, and then screamed as one of the creatures caught the back of her blouse in its mouth.
She fell to the forest floor. It pinned her down even though she fought. Teeth sank into her upper right arm and clamped down. Tore. Anna screamed once more.
****
Jason leaped at the red Lupoiux wolf, knocking the smaller beast away from the woman.
Her scent, stronger now, slammed into him. All at once he understood what had drawn the three rogue males this close to Dardaptoan territory. Understood what had made them chase her like prey. The little human was in heat. She was their prey and prized, now.
Every instinct Jason possessed went into hyper drive when the first wolf turned on him.
****
Anna kept pressure on her bleeding arm as she stared at the beasts. There were four of them. The darker wolf was larger than the other three and stood growling in front of her.
The log behind her and the black wolf in front of her had her trapped. She looked around for something to defend herself with just as one of the smaller animals sprang at the black wolf. She crawled a few yards to the side but was still trapped.
Her hand landed on a large stick as wide as her wrist just as the dark wolf threw the smaller one into the remaining two. The three smaller wolves slunk off, disappearing into the shadows.
The black wolf turned to her. Anna gripped the stick tighter. If the animal lunged at her, she'd get only one good chance to get away.
He moved closer, then lifted his nose to the air. He stopped, stared at her as intently as she stared at him. And there was no doubt in her mind that this creature was male.
He began to contort, growing taller. Anna raised the stick, holding it in front of her chest, her neck. He came closer. Anna swung the branch as hard as she could.
A human hand grabbed it and yanked it from her grasp. Anna blinked, prepared to scream again. His hand covered her mouth and he pulled her close, cutting off her air as he shushed her. Anna closed her eyes, blocking out the sight of the animal teeth coming at her from a human face.
Chapter Two
Jason caught her as she fainted against him and then scooped her into his arms. He hadn't meant to cut off her air, just keep her quiet. His skin prickled when the night wind brought a stronger surge of her scent to his lungs and it became completely clear to him.
His. She was his mate; all his instincts told him so. He stared down at her for a long moment, the awe and shock he felt keeping his feet immobile. The gods and goddesses had given her to him.
His new little mate stirred against him and he shushed her by brushing a kiss against her hair, not wanting to draw any other unmated Lupoiux out again. She was his, but he had a limited amount of time to claim her and couldn’t afford for the damned wolves to steal her from him.
When a potential mate—human or otherwise—first met her particular Lupoiux his presence triggered a surprise estrus period. It prepared the woman to receive the Lupoiux male's seed and a litter of pups—usually two or three pups in all—always resulted from the initial mating.
The only caveat was that the male had to claim his female within thirty-six hours of their initial skin-to-skin contact. He'd shaken this woman's hand yesterday afternoon. He couldn't remember the exact time, and it was now close to nine p.m. Time was running out.
If mating within that timeframe never occurred, both male and female would remain sterile throughout their lives. And Lupoiux males lived a long time.
Jason wanted pups, in addition to the two daughters he'd fathered with his ex-wife back when he'd been human. Josey and Jade were both mated to Dardaptoans now, had become Dardaptoan. They had lives of their own. Jason wanted another family. He wanted his mate, a wish he’d never been able to articulate. But now he'd found her.
He had mere hours to claim this woman in his arms or that wish would remain forever unfulfilled.
The entrance to his den was perfect for his wolf form, but as a human and carrying his mate it was tricky to navigate. He had to drag her in several places. It ate up precious time.
By the time he'd settled her on the bedroll he kept there, he estimated he had less than three hours to claim her. He lit both lamps, wanting as much light as possible. He pulled the glasses from her face and sat them on a high shelf carved into the cave's wall before pulling the remnants of a plastic clip from the honey-brown tangle of hair. Her hair would reach almost to her waist, and that thought had his body tightening with lust and anticipation. He wanted his hands buried in that hair as he guided his mate through their first coupling.
Without the glasses hiding her face, she was striking, not exactly beautiful, but not plain either. He didn't care; what mattered was that this woman was his. He removed her tattered, filthy clothing, tossing it aside.
It was then he found the vicious bite on her arm. He cleaned it with supplies from the first aid kit and then put in two small stitches over the worst part. She whimpered and he smoothed back her hair, praying she'd stay unconscious long enough for him to finish. He knew just how much a bite from a Lupoiux werewolf stung. He bandaged her arm quickly.
Another whimper, this one stronger.
Jason leaned over her as extraordinary blue eyes opened…
Also Available from
Lost River Lit Publishing L.L.C.
& Calle J. Brookes
Koios and Bronwen in…
Warrior blind
Chapter One
WOULD she always have the nightmares? She dreamed of the warrior every night. Remembered the look on his face, the total apathy, when he’d shoved her at Ramorakin, the keeper of his slaves.
That expression on his face was one of the last clear images she had, and would ever have. How was she to deal with that? Her own mate, the one destined for her by her goddess, had thought so little of her that he’d thrown her to a monster.
And then he had just walked away.
It was by the grace of the goddess that Bronwen Sebastos still lived.
She pulled the thick blankets around her body in a useless attempt to ward off the night’s chill. The demon realm was colder at night than her home in Colorado, but it wasn’t the night temperature that froze her soul.
She didn’t know how many hours she sat in her bed, unable to see even if she had flicked on a lamp, but she sensed when true morning came. She could feel the heat of the sun filtering through the window. Bronwen contemplated just staying in her bed, remaining there at least for the day—if not the rest of her life.
Why not? It wasn’t as if she had much use now, stumbling around pitifully, using the walls to guide her through this place that was more her prison than her home. She missed her home so much.
But returning to Colorado was not an option now. Not with the wars of these realms inching ever so closer to Gaia, to Colorado, to Relaklonos where she now sat. War was coming, one that was predicted to be the worst one in any realm’s history, and she was a healer.
A useless one. A burden to those who loved her.
Those who loved her were probably waiting on her for breakfast.
A forceful knock sounded and Bron knew who it most likely was. He came by her room every morning to plague her; she never answered. What was she to say to Koios?
Tha
nk you for making me into something to be pitied, dependent on those around me for care?
He was supposed to protect her, to love and cherish her from the moment they met.
Instead, he’d nearly killed her.
Had she not possessed the soul of a healer, she would have died already. Dardaptoan healers were unique. There were a limited number of them, and each had a tiny piece of the original healer’s soul lodged within their hearts. That healer—now immortalized, though unnamed—would never truly die. Which meant that it took far longer for healers to die when injured.
Whatever the slave keeper had done to her, she had yet to die from it. And she probably wouldn’t. No matter how much she wished it.
She wasn’t like her foster mother, Aureliana. The older woman had cared for her frequently as an infant and child when her brothers Thadd and Theo hadn’t been able to. Aureliana had chosen to deny herself her Rajni for nearly ten months after meeting him. She’d thought she was protecting the big warrior Ren from her inevitable death at the hands of a Beansidhe.
But Auri and Ren had figured things out between them almost three months ago, and now they were happy together. The way Rajnis were supposed to be.
Auri had chosen to avoid her mate. Bronwen had had that choice made for her through his actions. His disdain.
But now he wanted something from her and was proving relentless. He’d been trying for weeks to get to her, for whatever it was that he wanted.
She was starting to face the fact—she could not avoid the confrontation with him forever.
****
Koios waited. He knew the girl healer would have to come out of her chamber eventually. And he was prepared. He could wait no longer to make things right between them. His time had run out, and he had to return to his own kingdom. Lothicano could ill afford his absence and his brother’s. Sinrik had a mate and child to think of. Until his twin convinced that mate to return with him, Sinrik’s need to remain in this damned place was far more pressing.
Sinrik had a family; Koios wasn’t sure what the healer girl was to him. Or even why he persisted with her so strongly.
He’d abandoned the idea of making her a slave, a servila. But he owed her his protection and some sort of restitution for what had happened to her while technically in his keeping. That he had not been present for most of those two weeks mattered little. He had taken her from the ones who protected her and she had been damaged. That made him responsible.
But the girl was proving extremely stubborn in allowing him to care for her, in allowing him to regain his honor. He had plans to set her up in his castle, provide her with attendants and anything else that she needed. He had a vague idea of allowing her to remain as companion to his twin’s mate, with whom he knew she was particularly close. He would allow her to live a life of complete luxury, doing anything that she pleased. Her new blindness prevented her from doing much else, didn’t it?
Her door opened and he kept himself as still as his warrior training would allow. She would not realize he was there, not until he was ready to make that fact known. He would grab the girl and flash her to his castle in Lothicano. It was the only option he had left. It would be up to his brother to make Koios’ apologies to the girl’s family and caregivers.
Koios had made his decision several days ago, and nothing would deter him.
She felt her way along the wall and took tiny steps that barely moved her forward at all. He was two inches past seven feet in her world’s measurements. He estimated she was two feet smaller, or thereabouts. Warrior youths hit that size around their tenth birth year. What had he been thinking? A servila this female would never have made.
Her hair was brown. Nothing remarkable about it, just earth brown and worn straight and long down her back. Her eyes were covered by dark glasses, but he remembered the unusual yellow color well. She had strangely feline eyes, typical of her Kind. And she had the delicate beauty of features that could lure an unsuspecting male victim to the bloodsucking Kind’s side.
It did not work on Koios. The female was too small, too weak, too not of his Kind for his attention to stray in that direction.
It was not unheard of in his realm for oddities from other worlds to be kept and coddled. And though the high queen of this world was of her Kind, this little Dardaptoan female was very unusual.
Koios forced those thoughts away. Similar thoughts were what had gotten him into this predicament to begin with. He’d seen her when she’d first stumbled upon him—literally—and had wanted her.
He had yet to be able to explain it, even more than a year later. But it was the truth. He’d wanted her in his home, so he’d taken her.
He’d justified it with the fact that Healers of her Kind were immensely prized for their abilities. They were taken by just about any other Kind in any other realm. He could have sold her for three hundred times her weight in his world’s most precious currency.
Something his kingdom could have used a year ago.
She was within his arm’s reach now; she was so vulnerable, wasn’t she? She did not even know he was there.
That made what he was about to do even more despicable.
Koios reached out.
Chapter Two
ONE moment she was feeling her way down the hall, and the next the world around her changed. Bronwen didn’t even have a moment to scream.
Hard arms were tight around her; one hand covered her mouth, and the other was tangled in her hair. She was yanked against a hard male chest and her cheek slammed into something metallic. Like a medallion or amulet. Then it felt like her body was being pulled in a thousand different directions.
It was only a few moments before the hands holding her loosened enough for her to breathe again.
“We are here.”
Him. Again. Of course.
“Where?” All she could do was whisper. She wanted to cling to him. He was all she knew in that moment. Damn him. What had he done? “Why did you do this?”
“We are in my home, pet. Where a king belongs. I can ill afford to remain with the High King. And with Sinrik staying at his mate’s side, I could wait to return no longer.”
“Danae is not his mate. She doesn’t want him.” Any more than Bron wanted this creature anywhere near her.
“Be that so, she has birthed the heir to this kingdom. Until that heir reaches the age of majority, the child’s mother is bound by Lothicano law to remain near the father.”
“But is that the High King’s law?”
“He will honor it, or risk a war. There is too much at stake for him now.”
Bronwen understood what he was saying. Rathan was busy preparing for the war, and with relocating Dardaptoan refugees from not one but two realms. How could Rath split his attention between that and something as trivial as one missing woman from his house?
“Come. I have been long gone from my home. I have things I must do and soon.”
“What is to happen to me? Please…don’t send me back to Ramorakin. I’ll do anything…” She did not know what the slave keeper had had against her, or Danae, but he had seemed to hate them far more than he had any of the other females in his keeping.
He had struck Bronwen multiple times. Danae far less, being that she was a princess who would most likely be ransomed back quickly. But Bronwen…she had drawn his ire almost hourly in the time she’d been kept in the prison wing of the Lothicano castle.
She would do anything to avoid being near that monster again—even beg.
****
Her fear tore at him, filling his soul with his guilt. What had Ramorakin done to her? The slave keeper had been in Koios’ employ for nearly six hundred years, and they had never had a single problem from him. Of course, most of that time the slaves in Ramorakin’s keeping had been political in nature, destined for ransoming back to their families. As such they were to be treated well, and they had been.
Until this girl and the Relaklonos princess.
And with both females refusi
ng to speak of what they had endured, no punishment could be appropriately rendered.
Koios did not understand it; if they had been so abused by the slave keeper, why did they not speak it so? Did they not understand that he and Sinrik would see they were treated honorably and avenged if needed?
He pulled her glasses from her face; he did not like it when she hid from him. Any part of her. He pocketed the glasses, then tilted her chin up toward him. Could she not see him at all, then? That was what the people of Malickus’s castle had said months ago. But had he ever checked for himself? Her eyes, once the dark yellow of the Lothicano rose, were now far too pale. The pupils were almost non-existent. He waved a hand in front of her face, and there was no reaction from her eyes to the changing light. None at all.
She pulled away. “Don’t do that. I’m not a freak show for your amusement.”
So she had some spirit. That surprised him; she had been just a timid little waif each time he had been with her. “I do not think you are a freak, in any manner. But there will be truth between us from now on. Tell me, how much do you see?”
She pushed at him, her tiny hands near the medallion his mother had placed around his neck hours after his birth to denote his royal heritage. He barely felt it, so small and weak was she. “I see nothing. And I never will again.”
“I am sorry. That is unfortunate.”
“You think? I can’t even see to tell you which way I should walk. I could fall down the stairs, or run into the walls, or fall out a window. I can even cut myself eating my own dinner. So tell me, how unfortunate that is? Do you even care? It is your fault I am like this in the first place.”
Captive By Night: A Dardanos, Co. Taken Collection Page 66
