by Bella Devine
He smiled wickedly. He possessed her power now. The only positive outcomes from the permanent bond with the witch were his increased strength, power, and even magic. That's right. A shifter with magic.
He rubbed his index finger and thumb together until tiny black flames spurted from his fingertips, but the magic died with a resounding sizzle. The acrid smell of burning flesh lingered in the air.
"Mansfield, bring more jumping juice!" Referring to the rich metallic blood he consumed daily, he grinned. The addiction had become more demanding the past few days and the fix didn't last nearly as long. His blood donor, however, was finally learning her place in life — and it had only taken a decade.
Such a shame too! A beautiful witch such as herself should be used for more than just blood! She was simply too emotional for his tastes now — crying, then screaming, then crying some more.
If she sought his sympathy, she would find none. He had lost his humanity and refused to let mundane emotions control him or his pissants. People wanted a leader, not an empath. His stone-cold demeanor had moved him from the front lines onto the goddamn throne.
He hit the side of said throne."Blood, Mansfield, now!"
Mansfield scurried forward, head bowed, and climbed the six steps to the golden chair. He offered the goblet. "Sir."
Without a word, Master took the glass and greedily consumed the blood. The thick liquid sailed smoothly down his throat. Power flowed through his veins. He clenched his fist and held his palm upright. A huge, blue, energy ball formed. "I forgive you for your slowness, Mansfield, but don't let it happen again or else you shall join the witch."
He thrust the energy forward, knocking the servant to the ground. His laughter reverberated off the walls. It was such a joy to watch Mansfield flop like a fish.
Wiping his bloody lip, the servant pulled himself up. Head bowed, he inquired, "Sir?"
"I don't have all day." Master stroked his beard with precision. He peered at the pissant before him.
"Sir."
"Mansfield," he tried again. This time, he conjured a bright orange flame, increasing its heat with each moment that passed.
The coward took two steps back. "Sir, there have been some reports."
Master’s patience was running thin. "C'mon with it."
Mansfield trembled. Tears welled in his eyes as he finally looked toward the throne. "Sir, there are reports of a...a..." — he gulped — "a soulbond."
"Impossible!" Master jumped up from his throne, extinguished the flame, and threw the goblet against the wall. The glass shattered, leaving specks of blood shining among the crystal shards. "Has this been confirmed?"
"I can summon the investigators for you, sir." Mansfield backed toward the door.
"I want enforcers sent out immediately!" Master roared.
"Yes, sir." Mansfield dabbed at the sweat pouring from his forehead.
"And Mansfield."
"Yes, sir." He bowed his head.
"Next time you receive news of this magnitude, inform me first." He looked at the broken pieces scattered on the floor. "Or else you will be dealt with as I see fit."
"Yes, sir."
Chapter Five
Liam
Searing pain drove me outside the cabin and onto the deck, but the crisp morning air did nothing to cool down the fire burning through my body. The trees swayed in the howling wind. Lightning darted across the sky. Thunder rolled. But my focus was on my mate and the scorching sensation awakening every cell within me. The hair on my neck stood at attention. My body quivered.
My wolf yearned to sink his paws into the mud. To roam through the forest. Maybe even complete a satisfying hunt. He didn't want to stay in the luxurious cabin. He didn't want to go for a swim or socialize with the other pack members in the kitchen. Neither did I.
"Hey, Liam, want a cup?" Connor poured a cup of steaming hot coffee and pushed it toward Drew, who snarled and clutched his head.
"No," I said from the patio door. My wolf and I needed to find our mate!
My inner wolf nodded. Run. Forest. Now!
Thunder cracked and lightning struck. The storm raged within me as loud as the one sweeping across the morning sky. Run. Now. The words echoed in my mind.
"I'm going for a run. I need to survey the perimeter."
Connor set down his mug. "I can go."
I ignored him and shook my arms, paced to the end of the porch, and stripped off my clothes. My muscles tingled with anticipation. My wolf howled in excitement.
The long, jagged scar down my side turned purple in the cold morning air. I exhaled, the morning temperature freezing the escaping vapor.
The muscles in my back legs tightened as I jumped from the porch. My massive black wolf took form before my paws hit the ground. I exuded self-confidence and trotted forward.
I sniffed the air. An odd feral scent raised my hackles. The smell could be a rogue animal's. Slowly approaching the forest, I surveyed the area. No birds chirped. No animals scurried. No domesticated pack member would approach another's territory without clear permission from the alpha.
Ears erect, tail curled high, I debated alerting my pack members that danger might be present. But I could handle a measly rogue animal. I was the biggest wolf on the East Coast and wanted a good fight. I snarled with approval.
The path led deeper into the forest. Soft detritus on the ground muted the sound of my paws. My lips curled. The unnatural stillness bristled my hackles.
Loud hissing, followed by a gut-wrenching scream, shattered the quiet. Forgetting my stealth mode, I raced forward. Twigs crunched beneath the weight of my running gait. My stomach sank and flipped. I sped faster through the forest, my breath hitching from the demand.
I leapt into a clearing, stumbling at the sight of a petite woman jabbing a stick at a mountain lion. My eyes widened, completing a double take. The morning breeze teased her jet-black hair. Her wild green eyes flickered to me then quickly returned to her attacker.
My world righted for an instant. The restlessness I had fought for days settled. Her! My core. My mate. And she was in danger.
The mountain lion hissed and swept a massive paw forward. Claws, extended to dangerous points, ripped a long laceration down the woman's forearm. She yelped, dropped the stick and stumbled backwards. Her good arm clutched the injury.
My nose flared at the coppery smell of blood. Taking a step forward, I growled a warning, diverting the lion's attention from the woman. I crouched, prepared to attack.
Hissing, the lion mimicked my actions. Spittle drooled from its long canines. I returned a low deep-gut growl — a back-the-fuck-off warning. No way would I allow the woman to be harmed again.
Her injured arm dangled close to her body. She crouched to pick up another branch. She grunted with a half-hearted swing of her makeshift weapon. Was she swinging at me or the lion?
The sweet smells of vanilla and sugar mingled with the stench of fear and blood. Home! My heart beat faster. The aromas had wafted through my dreams ever since I tried to save this woman from the dungeon. Every nerve ending tingled. She was mine. My gaze followed the trail of blood trickling over a glowing crescent moon at her wrist. My mate.
For a brief moment, it was just me and her.
Another angry screech pulled my focus back to the threat before us. The woman concentrated on the lion, only occasionally glancing at me. Her determined stance expressed neither fear nor weakness. I preened at her strength and determination.
I needed to protect her, to eliminate the threat before us. The lion's massive size and overall presence assured me that it was indeed a shifter. Shifters had to follow the bylaws and being on my land meant the lion would have to challenge me for my alpha position or leave unharmed.
Unharmed? My wolf snarled. He hurt my mate.
I growled.
My wolf pranced in a circle around her. He was uneasy and wanted a fight. Blood for blood. But I wouldn't risk hurting my mate in an attempt to exact revenge. Not unless the lion
challenged me. Then I would ensure my mate's safety before I entered into battle.
Yes, unharmed. Consumed by the need for her, my wolf shook with the transformation. Limbs elongated; fur receded. Naked, I stood defiantly before the mountain lion.
"I'm Liam Lowell." I spoke with authority, a tone of voice that matched my status. "Alpha of the Lowell Pack. I hereby mandate that you vacate the premises or face the consequences."
I stepped closer to my mate, drawing the attention of the lion to me.
The ferocity in the animal's stare would have made another man cower, but I met his protest head-on.
Its cream-colored fur quivered. The challenge in its golden eyes preeminent. The shifter tested my dominance with his direct gaze, but finally tucked its tail and bowed its head slightly despite the fire in its eyes.
The alpha in me was disgusted at the lack of respect. My body coiled tight, ready to spring in a second's notice. I stepped closer to the feline. "Unless you want to finish this the hard way, I suggest you leave now."
The lion growled and hissed, showing sharp teeth, then flicked its tail, turned, and sauntered away.
"So, all I had to do was fucking ask him to leave?" The woman tossed her stick to the ground and ran a hand through her tousled hair. An appreciative gleam lit her eyes before she took a cautious step back.
I couldn't help but laugh, which probably wasn't the best response. She actually sneered at me.
"Well, I guess you caught my name." I grinned wolfishly and reached out my hand, but she didn't return the formality. "I'm Liam. And you are?"
"Completely fucked."
My grin faltered. I tried not to be offended, but she didn't appear as pleased to have found me as I was to find her.
She mumbled under her breath, and although I couldn't make out everything, I caught the gist. Nadia... crazy witch...bring me back!
My smile widened. So, she didn't wander here by herself. Whoever Nadia was, I needed to thank her. This could be fun!
I waited patiently for my mate to quit speaking under her breath and when the mumbling stopped, she gazed around the forest, refusing to answer my question. I needed a name, but after days of searching, I could wait a few more moments for her to acknowledge me. The silence continued before she finally caved.
"Bryn Kelley." Her appreciative gaze traveled down my body. She blushed, her face turning a deep red. "Do you happen to have clothes, Liam?"
My body hummed from her appraisal. I held out my hand again. "Nice to meet you."
After a moment, she gripped it in greeting. A sizzle traveled from my crescent moon imprint through my veins to pierce my heart. The impact almost brought me to my knees.
She trembled and her lips parted. "It's you."
I leaned closer to catch her throaty whisper. Her pulsating imprint caught my eye and I turned over her left hand. The glowing crescent moon on her wrist matched my own. Shimmering light connected our imprints.
I stroked my finger along the outline of the moon, stimulating a carnal need. I yearned to pull Bryn closer, to feast on her succulent lips, to slide delicately between her folds.
She moaned as if she craved the same sensual experience.
I cupped her chin. Just before my lips brushed hers, she pushed against my chest.
"We can't do this." She stepped back. Something akin to regret shone in her eyes.
The rejection cooled my desire.
"I will give you some time to wrap your mind around this." I caressed her imprint. "But we'll have to address our bond sooner rather than later."
She shivered in the cool morning air.
"C'mon, I have a cabin a couple of miles north of here. We need to have that arm looked at and get you some warm clothes." The laceration barely broke through the top layer of skin and wasn't as bad as I first feared. My healer was back home, but I was sure I could patch her up until we left for the village.
She jerked back her hand. "This," she said, flashing her imprint in my face, "is not an automatic ticket to get laid."
I howled with laughter. I would never be satisfied with the “wham, bam, thank you, ma'am.”
***
Bryn
I wasn't sure what to expect as I followed the extremely sexy, yet strange, naked man. What other option did I have? I glanced over my shoulder. Sleeping on the cold forest floor another night was not an exciting choice. Especially after the lion attack. I gripped the scratch down my arm. The bleeding had slowed. I could go the rest of my life without having to handle another animal confrontation.
Nadia had some explaining to do. The crazy witch actually sent me into the woods alone, at night, with no weapon. Not even a match to start a fire. I shivered in the heavy morning frost.
I was cold, exhausted, hungry, and confused as hell. The imprint's magnetic pull with this man consumed me, but I fought the carnal vibrations coursing through my body. The need to claim him was unlike anything I had ever known.
Thank goodness his cocksure attitude cooled my raging desire. He assumed that because we both had the imprint, we should automatically mate. I wasn't so sure. But I was definitely loving the view of his muscular backside as he climbed the steps to the cabin.
Liam grabbed a pair of discarded jeans on the deck and put them on. His crystal blue eyes caught mine staring. I blushed. You couldn't help a girl for admiring the way he filled a pair of jeans. And that six pack! He was built like a brick house. I licked my lips.
A tall, shaggy, blond-haired man stepped onto the patio. "Liam, I was about to send a search party for your ass."
The man's cargo pants and polo did nothing to hide the muscles that lurked beneath his clothing. Although this man was sexy and swoon worthy, he didn't make my blood boil like Liam did.
"I ran into a bit of trouble, Connor." Liam stepped through the door.
"What type of trouble?" Connor tilted his head and peered past Liam at me. "You've got to be shitting me. That's her, isn't it? She's the one."
"She has a name and it's Bryn." I stepped around Liam, who growled at my assertiveness. Tough! He would have to get used to my independence.
Connor grinned, but rather than shake my extended hand, he kissed it, holding on longer than was polite. "We searched three towns only for you to arrive in our backyard."
"I didn't realize I was lost." Wow. They've been looking for me? Why?
"Oh, yes, you were." Connor's grip tightened. "Ever since your man here couldn't break through cement walls to find you, he's been going crazy. Honestly, I've never seen him this worked up before."
"Enough!" Liam shoved past Connor into the kitchen.
I followed. Liam had been in the dungeon with me. Is that when we bonded?
The decadent smell of coffee hit me like a ton of bricks. My mouth watered. My questions faded.
"Have a seat." Liam shuffled around for medical supplies and pulled out bandages and antiseptics. I had almost forgotten my injury.
Taking a seat at the bar, I eyed my rescuer — the voice from my dreams finally had a face. Remembering his touch, I caressed the imprint. My, he does have a body! I definitely wanted a bite of him. But I couldn't. I was falling too fast. Too hard. I needed to clear my head.
Connor tapped my shoulder. "I said, do you want coffee?"
I jerked. "Yes, please. Cream and sugar."
"A fine way to ruin a good cup of coffee." Connor poured me a cup then pushed the creamer and sugar toward me.
Liam inspected the laceration on my arm. “At least the bleeding has stopped.”
I tried to ignore my shivering, but failed miserably. Based on his brilliant smile, he felt my response too and liked it.
"We need to wash this before it gets infected." He grabbed a warm, soapy washcloth and pulled a bar stool next to mine. Gently, he wiped away the dried blood. The heat from his touch and the burn from my wound had me gritting my teeth.
"So." Connor pointed to my bloodied arm. "Exactly what kind of trouble did you run into?"
"A fucking
mountain lion shifter on the property." Liam's gentle touch showed no resemblance to the anger in his voice. When I sucked in another breath, he asked, "Does it hurt?"
"No, it's fine," I lied and slightly twisted my arm to view the cut. It wasn't as bad as I had imagined, but it stung like hell.
"Why?" Connor asked.
"Why what?" Liam coated the wound with antibiotic salve and wrapped my arm with gauze.
"Why was another shifter on the property? We haven't had a rogue here for years."
