Evermine: Daughters of Askara, Book 2

by Hailey Edwards

  He murmured back, “Love you, Emma-mine.”

  His gentle kiss deepened as he surged into me, tightening his mouth. His pace quickened until neither of us had enough air. He slid his palm behind my neck and cupped my skull, lifting my head off the floor. His fingers tangled in my hair as he dragged my face closer. His lips peeled back over sharp teeth, and he fused our mouths together while he drove harder into me.

  He sank to his elbows, hooking my right knee over his shoulder without slowing his thrusts. My eyes rolled back and tried to shut out the pleasure. He caught my chin, tilted it.

  “Look at me, Emma.” He pushed deep and held, circling his hips. “I want the words.”

  My inner muscles fluttered along his cock. I was wound tight and throbbing. One hard kiss from him and I would come apart. I angled my chin up, seeking his mouth, but he refused.

  Instead he buried his face in the bend of my neck and whispered, “I need to hear them.”

  Hazy desire parted, allowing a trickle of reason to infiltrate my lust-addled brain.

  I framed his face in my hands. “Harper Delany, I claim you as my male, as is my right.”

  His fierce smile bumped our teeth together in the rough kiss I’d wanted. His hand skimmed down my stomach and slid between us. Parting my folds, his thumb found my clit and worked the bud until tears leaked from my eyes. Poised on the ledge, I was ready to go over. He removed his hand and planted his palms to either side of my shoulders. One long stroke filled me. His groan turned into a growl as I lost the last shred of sanity he’d left me. I threw back my head and screamed his name until my throat burned. He lasted two more strokes before his spine arched and wings burst to their full breadth. My name ripped from his throat as he came.

  Harper met my gaze and his lips quirked into the most perfect, exhausted smile.

  This was how we were meant to be. I was his, and he was forever mine.

  About the Author

  Hailey is a wife turned mother turned writer, who loves her husband, her daughter and alone time with her computer. Whenever southern living strikes her as too ordinary, she can be found squinting at her monitor as she writes her next happily-ever-after or with her nose glued to her Kindle’s screen. Wings and/or cupcakes are usually involved…

  She loves to hear from readers at hailey@haileyedwards.net.

  You can also swing by www.haileyedwards.net for all her latest news.

  Look for these titles from Hailey Edwards

  Now Available:

  Daughters of Askara

  Everlong

  Coming Soon:

  A Hint of Frost

  The most damaged heart can fly with the right pair of wings.

  Everlong

  © 2010 Hailey Edwards

  Madelyn’s life is far from fairytale perfect. She is second in line for the throne of a corrupt, brutal monarchy. Or at least she was until her dark guardian sacrificed his life to hide her safely in a realm of infinite possibilities.

  For years she’s lived among a colony of escaped slaves as her guardian’s widow. Even in this simple life, though, nothing is as it seems. Her hero kept a secret—a younger brother named Clayton Delaney. Warrior, winged demon…and the man who now wants to lay claim to her heart.

  No longer cast in his brother’s shadow, Clayton meets all obstacles head on, including one named Maddie. His infatuation with her reaches the breaking point when she undergoes a royal rite of passage, going into heat and pushing them both over the edge.

  Just as Maddie learns that some risks are worth taking, she discovers that her guardian may be alive. And she’s forced to make a choice between the man she’d thought she loved, and the demon willing to lend her his wings.

  Warning: This book contains virginal angst, a hero who’s too nice for his own good, wings, claws, and convenient use of glamour. It contains heartbreaking loss, conversation with a woodland creature, and sweet, sweet demon loving.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Everlong:

  Pushing up the trail harder than I should have, I almost missed the turn guiding me up the final incline to where the landscape dropped away before me. Trees and rocks jutted up off to my left and right, but ahead lay nothing. My legs ached from the effort of climbing to Emasen’s cliff edge, but the view made the burn worthwhile.

  Exhausted, I shrugged out of my backpack, letting it slide down my arms to land with a soft thud on the compacted earth. Sweat stung my eyes. Perspiration beaded on my skin, struggling to squeeze through the coating of waterproof sunscreen Emma had made me apply before allowing me to leave the house.

  I walked to the edge of the precipice and stood with the toes of my sneakers hanging over the sheer rock face of the cliff. My shoulders tensed, air whooshed into my lungs as I rolled to the balls of my feet, preparing for the impossibility of flight.

  “Step back from the ledge,” Clayton’s soft voice coaxed from behind me.

  “Clayton,” I groaned. “I wasn’t really going to jump.” I pointed towards my back. “No wings, remember?” As if either of us could forget.

  I twisted abruptly, discounting the lingering tenderness in my knee, and lost my footing. Arms flailing, I tried to regain my balance and failed, toppling backwards from the ledge.

  “Clayton!” I shouted his name as my body whistled through the air, plummeting towards the earth. Frantic heartbeats thundered in my ears, drowning out the sound of my screams.

  As I fell, my earliest memories flickered through my mind. I pushed aside the barrage of images and settled on my favorite. That of a black-skinned boy with glittering onyx eyes. And wings. Tiny, ruby-red wings that had fluttered with his excitement and made my child’s heart long for the half of my heritage I lacked.

  “Madelyn!” Clayton bellowed, leaping from the edge and following me into the sky.

  I had only a fraction of a second to wonder if he would make it before his strong arms plucked me from my downward spiral.

  His enormous scarlet wings opened wide, stretching out so far in either direction I couldn’t see the blackened tips and tiny, hook-like hands that topped them.

  Clayton’s blunt chin dug into the top of my head. The muscular arms holding me close tightened until my breath wheezed from my lungs.

  “Were you trying to get yourself killed?” he snapped. “What if I hadn’t been there? What if you’d been alone?” His skin trembled beneath my fingers.

  “It was an accident.” I struggled in his hold, trying to free my arms from where he pinned them to my sides. “If you hadn’t startled me, I wouldn’t have fallen in the first place.”

  “You can’t be so careless.” He held me dangling in the air before him, shaking me senseless, before tucking me back against his chest. His voice cracked. “What would I have done without you?” His thumb worked across a bony protrusion behind my shoulder blade, marking my absence of wings.

  “It’s okay, really.” I rested my cheek against his chest since my hands weren’t free. “A fall from that height would have hurt.” I carefully avoided making a comment on my personal experiences. “But I would have healed eventually.”

  “I don’t want to hear this.” His head tossed from side to side. “I don’t want to know how you know that.”

  If I’d thought he couldn’t hold me tighter, I’d been wrong. I would wear bruises for a while, but for now, I allowed him to have what he needed, letting him squeeze until joints popped and pain blossomed. It was such a small hurt when compared to the anguish carried in his voice.

  Using my chin to part the fabric of his shirt, I rested my face flush against his skin. His body shuddered beneath my cheek. His desperate groan filled my ear with his heated breath as he glided the last few feet and touched down.

  Still gripping my upper arms, Clayton lowered me to the ground, sliding me down his body so slowly time felt suspended. With earth beneath my feet, I leaned into him, trying to calm his ragged nerves. Something hard pressed against my stomach, making me shift to get comfortable and him gr
owl low in his throat. Oh. Oh.

  “Madelyn…” His voice grew husky.

  I pulled back, meeting his gaze. “You really are worked up over this.” I twisted in a circle before him. “I’m fine. See?”

  “Madelyn…”

  “Don’t beat yourself up over it.” I touched his arm, the muscle beneath my hand pulled taut as a bowstring.

  “Run,” he grated out over his lips.

  I spun around, searching for another demon or a wild animal, unable to imagine anything Clayton couldn’t protect me against. We were alone in the ravine. No one or thing had followed us here. “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Our eyes locked. I gasped and backed away slowly. Clayton’s pupils flashed silver, huge, luminous and spellbinding. His wings twitched with his effort to still them, but vibrant reds saturated his skin as his arousal heightened and called forth my body’s own response.

  “Go.” He clutched his head, breaths ragged. “Run!”

  I turned, but from the corner of my eye I saw him fall to the ground. Instead of leaving, I took a half step forward.

  “Get away from me!” He slashed the air inches from my face with razor-tipped claws. “I can’t control myself. It’s too much. Your scent…” His wings stretched and then cloaked his body as he hid himself from me. “Find Figment, she knows the way.”

  This time he didn’t have to ask twice. I spun on my heel and ran.

  When life is a struggle, love is the ultimate luxury.

  Reawakening Eden

  © 2011 Vivi Andrews

  Librarian Eden Fairfax knows exactly where to find books about survival. None of them mentioned how to manage in the aftermath of a worldwide epidemic—with two young orphans in tow.

  On a journey south to warmer climes, she finds sanctuary for all three of them among a community of survivors in Seattle. Until she realizes the children are the centerpiece of their bizarre new religion. There’s no choice but to run as far and as fast as her stolen car will go.

  Former Army Ranger Connor Reed had planned to live out the end of the world in peace. Yet he can’t stand by and do nothing while a lone woman defends two children from an armed thug. Even if doing something means taking the trio in.

  Eden’s not sure if the armed hermit is her salvation or an even more dangerous threat. A blizzard forces her to trust him with their lives, and in Connor’s arms she remembers what it’s like to live.

  Just beyond the edge of the storm, though, the cult leader awaits his chance to get his hands on the children—and make Eden his next sexual sacrifice.

  Warning: This book contains a strong, silent action-hero, a tough, tenacious heroine, a pair of steal-your-heart kids, and a pony-sized dog named Precious.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Reawakening Eden:

  Rambo turned his attention to her, catching her staring. She didn’t look away and neither did he—not so much in a battle of wills as a waiting game, a strategic feint to see who would reveal their true intentions first.

  His gun was held at the ready, but she wasn’t exactly pointing a lollipop at him, so she couldn’t really blame him. She didn’t precisely aim the rifle at Rambo’s head, but she didn’t put it down either.

  No one moved until the sound of Ben’s engine had faded to a distant whine, and then it was Hannah Rose who broke the silence.

  “Mama?”

  Eden shushed her. Rambo’s eyes flicked down to the kids huddled half beneath her, and her hands tightened on the rifle. Then he dismissed them—faster than she’d ever seen anyone look away from the miracle children before—and met her eyes again. “You okay?”

  That remained to be seen. Eden wet her lips. “How long have you been following us?”

  His expression, so hard to read beneath the camo paint, didn’t change, but she had the impression she’d managed to surprise him. “What makes you think—?”

  “I’ve seen your dog.” Only the one time, but he didn’t need to know that.

  As if on cue, the wolfhound reappeared in the narrow clearing where she and the kids had taken cover. Its jaws hung loosely in a canine grin as it loped over to Rambo’s side. Its butt thumped down and it listed heavily against his thigh. They fit together, the oversized dog and its oversized master. He reached down to absently scratch the enormous animal’s head, and something in Eden’s chest unknotted. He couldn’t be evil if he was good to animals, right? And he hadn’t shot them yet. Maybe he wasn’t so terrifying, though he had been following them…

  “Been keeping an eye on you since you started running circles on my land.”

  His concept of possession startled her a bit. It had been a while since my land meant anything to most people. Then she caught up to the circles part, and her heart thudded against her ribs. Just how lost were they?

  “Who are you? What do you want from us?”

  His face twisted with what might have been exasperation without the camo paint to make it look foreign and terrifying. “Look, lady, I don’t want anything from you. You just looked like you could use a hand.”

  God, how amazing would it be if she could believe him?

  She reminded herself he’d come out, made a target of himself and stepped in to help them. He hadn’t had to do that. He could have just walked on by. Or if he’d wanted to hurt them, he could easily have killed them all without stepping a single foot out of cover.

  His eyes flicked down to her white-knuckled grip on the rifle. “You ever fired that thing?”

  “Yes,” she replied too fast, defensively.

  His mouth moved in what could have been a half-smile, but with the face paint she couldn’t really tell. “Ever hit anything?”

  “Yes.” A moose. Her dad had loved to hunt and taken her when she was a teen. She’d shot the poor thing dead. Then puked all over the place for the next hour.

  “Uh-huh.” Rambo pointed his machine gun toward the sky, propping it back against his shoulder.

  Eden’s barrel didn’t waver, though she did let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. She wasn’t going to shoot him and they both knew it, but she still felt stronger, more prepared, with the muzzle aimed in his general direction. He didn’t seem to mind.

  But she didn’t know how she would be able to tell if he did. The man made robots look emotive.

  “Where’re you headed?”

  “We’re just passing through,” Eden said, trying to keep her own voice as even and emotionless as his.

  Rambo jerked his chin toward the dirt track they’d been walking down all morning. “Nothing down this road to pass to.”

  Which meant she’d gotten them just as lost as she’d feared. “We’re going south.”

  She couldn’t read his expression past the camo paint, but his voice was dry. “You need a new compass. You’re going west.”

  West. Back toward Spokane. Back toward Seattle. Shit. She’d tried to stay on small roads because they were easier for the kids to manage, but the country lanes didn’t always run straight, and she hadn’t been very good about watching the angle of the sun and all that shit to make sure they were staying headed in the right direction.

  Suddenly she felt weary to her soul. It was too much for one person to do everything, to be wholly responsible for three lives when the world was spinning upside down. How had she thought she could do this?

  Eden swallowed back the self-flagellation and defeat. She needed to focus on moving forward. Getting the kids to safety. Building a life for them somewhere that didn’t involve guns or cults or fear.

  Hannah Rose made a small sound of complaint, and Eden shifted so she wasn’t smushing the little girl quite so much. Lucas sat up at her side as Eden crouched in front of them, still defensive.

  She jutted her chin up the road back the way they’d come. “So that’s east, huh?”

  “East-north-east.”

  So south was right in front of her, through the dense forest where this man had appeared. He didn’t look like he was in the mood to play tour guide
, and she wasn’t sure she wanted him to. He was too imposing, too obviously deadly for comfort. This didn’t look like the kind of man who had picked up a gun and some hunting gear out of desperation and self-defense the way she had. He was too calm. He’d probably been living the curmudgeonly mountain-man existence for the last two decades, reading the Unabomber’s unauthorized biography and taking shots at anyone who trespassed on his land. No doubt he was delighted that only one person was living today for every three thousand who’d been alive a year ago.

  But he was plainly capable. He knew the area. He’d tracked them easily, so it wasn’t like she’d be able to escape him without a car anyway.

  “Could you give us directions to Boise?”

  He snorted. “On foot? Honey, you’ve lost your mind if you think you can walk to Boise this time of year.”

  “What about someplace we can get a car? Is there a town near here?” She’d pretty much exhausted her knowledge of Idaho towns with Coeur d’Alene and Boise.

  The sense of hopeless defeat rushed back in. How was she supposed to get the kids south for the winter if she couldn’t even figure out which way south was?

  A tiny hand plucked at Eden’s jeans, Hannah Rose trying to get her attention. She shifted her leg away. Not now, babygirl. Mama’s holding a gun on the nice man.

  “Look, I’m sorry, lady…”

  “Mama?” The little plucking fingers were back. Hannah Rose poked her head around Eden’s shoulder.

  “Not now, Hannah Rose.” Don’t call attention to yourself, babygirl.

  But it was already too late. The mountain man was staring at Hannah Rose’s rosy cheeks, his fierce frown evident even through the camouflage paint. “What does she want?” His voice was gruff, choked.

  And a note in it set off warning bells in Eden—a note that made him simultaneously a dozen times more likely to help them and a thousand times more dangerous. Not a loner mountain man after all. This man was a daddy once.