by T. S. Ryder
"Come on," Jamie hissed, trying to call her Panther forward. It stayed buried deep, fear rolling from it. But not because of the situation. Fear for the baby if it came forward.
A fountain of hot water gushed between her legs, soaking her. She collapsed back into her chair as her belly contracted tighter. She felt the baby Shift inside her, pressing down on her pelvis. A scream tore from her throat. No! It wasn't time!
A deep, thunderous roar filled the room. The doors burst from their hinges. A huge Lion with a full red mane leaped into the room. Ryan. He crouched for a moment, amber eyes flickering between them all before he pounced on Jordon. The Gorilla turned towards him with a howl. A huge fist crashed into the Lion's face, but Ryan simply rolled with the blow and swiped both paws, claws fully extended, towards the Gorilla.
Jamie screamed as everything seemed to bear down inside of her. Blinding pain shot through her. Hands grabbed her and she struggled against them until the pain passed and she saw it was Katrina and Melissa. They half-carried her towards the door. Sweat broke out over her face. The smell of blood was strong in the air. She twisted to see Ryan and the Gorilla still facing off. Ryan lithely danced around Jordon, batting at him, trying to find an opening.
Jordon howled and threw himself forward. He grabbed Ryan around the neck and threw him into the wall before charging the three women. Katrina slipped away and Shifted again. She dodged his long arms and jumped onto Jordon's back. Her teeth tore at his neck and he threw himself back like a wrestler. He landed hard on his back, crushing her. It gave Ryan the time he needed to jump on Jordon and catch his throat in his mouth.
"No!" Jamie shouted, eyes on the tufts of black fur she saw beneath them.
With a mighty yank, Ryan pulled the Gorilla away from Katrina. It caused him to lose his hold on Jordon's throat, but Katrina was able to scramble away. She Shifted again, joining Melissa and Jamie. One arm hung at an odd angle, but she still grabbed Jamie around the waist and hauled her out with the alpha's help.
The corridor was full of other Shifters fighting, and the alpha quickly directed the two of them into a room across the hall. She locked the door behind them and turned her attention to Jamie.
"Your water broke, didn't it?"
Jamie couldn’t respond as another contraction hit her. It pressed against her pelvis and she felt the baby moving down. Her knees buckled and she was barely able to keep herself up. Katrina helped her lie down and the alpha ripped off her pants. Jamie cried out, at first in protest at being bared like that, but it soon turned to another scream of pain.
"Turn onto your hands and knees," the alpha directed. "It's easier than lying on your back. Trust me, I've had two children."
"Ryan," Jamie whimpered.
"Ryan will take care of himself. We need to deliver this baby."
Her mind whirled with denial and fear, but Jamie somehow found it in herself to obey. She crouched on all fours, the pain shaking down her spine with every contraction. The noises in the hallway grew louder and softer, Katrina's face moved in and out of focus. Jamie's fingers dug into the carpet as the metallic tang of blood filled the air.
After what seemed like an eternity, the cry of a baby sounded in her ears and she collapsed, gasping for breath. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, but Katrina still turned her onto her back and Melissa placed the baby on her chest.
The door burst open and Ryan rushed in. His eyes were wild, but he stopped when he saw the three of them – four of them – on the floor. Moving carefully, as though afraid he'd frighten the baby, he joined Jamie on the floor. His arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close. Jamie leaned against him, exhausted and so full of emotion she didn't know what she was feeling.
"Jordon?" the alpha demanded.
"Subdued. Not dead. The Guard has taken down the intruders and Sean's been arrested," Ryan replied. "I know that I will have to face disciplinary action—"
The alpha shook her head. "Don't worry about that. Just be with your wife and daughter for right now."
"Daughter," Jamie whispered. "Emily."
Ryan kissed the top of her head. "Yeah," he agreed. "Our little Emily."
Chapter Eighteen – Ryan
It was a beautiful day out, full of golden sunshine and bright colors. Ryan knelt on the platform before the alpha as she read off the list of things he had accomplished in just this last year. Even though it was a solemn occasion, he couldn't stop himself from smiling from ear to ear.
After all the trouble that he had been through, it was finally over. Jordon was in jail and the pack was safe. The alpha's position was stronger than ever, and there was a good chance she was going to be reelected the next year.
But more than that, Ryan was happy. He had a wife who loved him and whom he loved, and a precious angel of a daughter who looked exactly like Jamie.
"For your service, we honor you and give you this medal for going far beyond the call of duty," Melissa said, lowering a ribbon around his neck. The heavy medallion swung from it as Ryan stood. He took his place at the podium and viewed the sea of faces.
As he began the speech he had memorized, he let his mind wander while his mouth spoke. Jordon still insisted that what he was doing was for the good of all Shifters, but his organization had been taken down. There were no more whispers about how it was weakening the packs to have couples from different species coming together and producing offspring. The Gorilla's trial would be over soon, and Ryan was certain he would spend the rest of his life in jail.
Life was good.
He finished his speech and glanced at Jamie and Katrina in the front row. Little Emily had stayed at home with a sitter, but the two sisters had insisted on coming to see the ceremony. Jamie beamed at him though the dark circles under her eyes spoke to how tired she was. He was tired, too. The baby kept them both up at night.
But that was just fine because now that Jordon was behind bars, he was ready to take his leave and have a year off work. His smile slipped as he thought of Sean. His friend should have been taking over for him during that year, but instead he was going to jail as well. He didn't deny the way he had betrayed the pack, only saying he didn't have a choice. And he hadn't, not when his brother's family was threatened like that.
Sean would serve jail time and he would no longer be permitted to work for the Guard, but he had still been granted leniency for the circumstances. He was going to be in a low-security prison and only serve five years. His family had been retrieved and all were safe. Sean had said that was enough for him.
"Thank you all very much," Ryan finished and slipped away from the podium. Everybody stood and clapped, and then he and Melissa posed for a few pictures before he left the stage to join Jamie and Katrina.
"Ready to head home and give me an excuse not to shake hands and mingle?" Ryan asked Jamie under his breath.
"Yeah. I want to get back to Emily."
Katrina rolled her eyes. "More like make out. You don't have to worry about me interrupting you," she was quick to add, "I'm going to stick around . . . to make friends."
She blushed and Ryan had to repress a grin. She had set her sights on one of the Elite and was no doubt staying so she could do a little bit of flirting. It was good to see her coming out of her shell. Ever since the incident with Jordon, she had been much more self-assured and confident, and the result was astounding. She was blossoming, and many of the young men were noticing.
"I feel like we should do more packing," Jamie said as they headed home. "But I'm so tired. I think I just want to cuddle with you and Emily and take a nap. I'll have to feed her first, though. My boobs feel like they’re ten pounds each."
Ryan couldn’t stop himself from glancing at them. "They look great."
Jamie rolled her eyes. "I don't care what they look like. I'm a mother, not a model.'
They arrived at the house quickly and relieved the sitter. Boxes were piled everywhere, full of everything they were going to take with them when Jamie started university again. Lei
la had finally been arrested, but Jeremy had somehow cut a deal with the sisters. In exchange for a lighter sentence, he had given them the information for several offshore bank accounts that held the money that was meant for Katrina and Jamie. It was currently being transferred back to them, and Jeremy was being watched closely in case he had some other ones that he hadn't told them about. Most of the money had been accounted for, though, and what was missing was easy enough to account for Leila's lavish spending.
In any case, they were going to have the funds for Jamie's schooling, and with his paternity leave and sabbatical, they were going to go to her university so she could get her degree. The board at her father's company had already agreed to hire her once she had finished.
"Oh, it's been a wonderful few days," Jamie said as she stripped off her shirt and took Emily to hold to her breast. "But I'm glad that we can just be home now."
Ryan grinned at his wife, loving the light in Jamie's eyes as she fed their daughter. It was a sight he'd never tire of, seeing the way she showed love with her whole body. "You know what?"
"What?"
"I love you."
Jamie flushed slightly. She smiled at him and nodded. "I love you, too."
Ryan settled onto the couch next to her and wrapped an arm around her. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and relaxed. "Yeah. You do. And life? Well, it's perfect, isn't it?"
*****
THE END
The Dragon Shifter's Babies
Description
A voluptuous model with a knack for love potions PLUS a hot Dragon Shifter looking for a mate PLUS a head witch who gets in the way!
Cyrene Redwood is a witch, but unlike any other witch, she doesn’t like being a witch. She has no idea where her wand is, her cauldron is stowed away under the kitchen sink and she uses her broom to sweep her apartment. She is also an aspiring model landing a gig at a modeling agency. But she is wayward, unruly and has a short temper, which jeopardizes not only her relationship with the head witch and her new employer, but might also put off that hot new guy she has met.
Dell is a Dragon Shifter, who looks like a model straight out of a Calvin Klein poster. He radiates “macho.” He is stable, well settled and established and has seen enough in his time that hardly anything catches his fancy - like a girl who mixes something in his drink or a witch who doesn’t fall for his charms.
When Cyrene is on a night out with her so-called friends, a daring bet lands her in Dell’s lap. Things turn steamy quick. But Dell knows more than he lets on and Cyrene has ulterior motives. As Cyrene shakes his foundations, Dell has to ask himself if he can really handle her. Will they reveal who they really are? And can Dell break down the wall that Cyrene has built around herself?
Chapter One - The 13th of the Moon
Cyrene
I stop for a second while crossing the road to light my cigarette, when a blue Fiat Punto screeches to a halt and starts honking. I get it, the signal was red and I should have waited, but there is no need to honk like your life depends on it—such behavior pisses me off. “Learn to be patient,” I shout at the woman inside, louder than I intended. I flip her the bird and then walk away. Just so you know, I never walk away, I only walked away because that’s what I was already doing. With three kids in the car, you’d expect a woman like her to have more patience. She honks again as she passes me by.
“Fuck you,” I shout back in return. What a bitch!
I am cranky, I know, it’s that time of the month. No, it’s not what you think. It is the night before the full moon, the night of the coven meeting. I absolutely despise coven meetings. I loathe all the other witches—more like bitches, especially Minerva, the head witch. I don’t see the point of these meetings, what they accomplish and why the fuck are they always held on the night before the full moon. At this point in time, in this century, all witches know that the phase of the moon has no impact on the meeting, none whatsoever. Yet I’m the only one who has the balls to say it. And, obviously, all witches are required to attend.
As I wait for the bus at the station, another bus waddles away and my eyes land on the ad on it: ‘Models Wanted - Apply Now.’ I save the address from the ad on my phone and wonder whether or not I should apply. I know I am beautiful, I have always known that, but I am not sure if I am “model beautiful.” For starters, I am not stick-thin, or thin, at all. I workout and I am fit, have a stunning bosom that makes people gawk, a flat stomach, and long red hair that make me stand out. I also have light freckles on my face, nothing that I can’t cover with some powder. When my bus arrives, I shoulder my way in and head home.
After I am done with my household chores, I get to my computer and type in the address I saved earlier. It turns out that the ad was from Glance, a prominent modeling agency. And I meet the minimum height requirement: I am 5’11! All they ask for is a photo, so I pull out my phone and take some photos. None of them satisfy me and I take some more. I finally settle for a very neutral one because I think that’s what they will really want to see: not pouts, not me flipping birds, just a neutral expression. I email the photo and head to bed, tired down to the bone. Working two jobs isn’t easy. Try it sometime if you don’t believe me.
At about three in the morning, there’s some fierce knocking on my window. I lazily open my eyes and see Bats in the window.
“I am not going,” I say, pulling the duvet over my head.
“That’s not an option, Cyrene,” Bats says. “Come on, honey, it won’t be long.”
“Go away! I have to wake up for work in three hours.”
“Then let’s get going. I’ll have you back within the hour.”
“Tell the head bitch I quit being a witch.”
Bats taps on the window full force, rattling the window frame. “Open up or I’ll break the glass.”
I ignore her, curling up in bed. She smashes the window with the back of her broom, shattering the glass to pieces.
“Bathilda, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?” I scream as I jump out of the bed.
“Told you. Get your broom before I break the rest of the stuff here,” she warns in a saccharine way.
I know by now that she means it, so I whistle to my broom and it flies to me.
“God, what did you do with your broom,” Bats asks, “don’t you ever clean it?”
“No, Bathilda, I don’t clean my broom. I clean with my broom. You know, that’s what brooms are for.”
Since I am calling her Bathilda instead of Bats, she knows I’m pissed, so she doesn’t make any more conversation. As I step out the window, she sighs loudly. I know she can’t hold it in, and she finally speaks.
“Are you really going to go in your pajamas?”
“I only dress up for Halloween,” I say, hopping aboard my broom.
We shoot straight for the pitch-black sky and stop a little above the clouds. The rest of the coven is already gathered. There are eleven witches to be precise, standing in rows of three like an assembly at school. Minerva is sitting on the opposite side, facing them.
“So good of you to finally join us, Cyrene,” says Minerva in her calm, therapist-like voice that makes me want to pull my hair out. What’s worse is that she isn’t being sarcastic at all. As Bats and I take our place, there are only two witches standing out: Minerva with her green velvet cloak, her polished broom, her old-hag botox-hungry face and her floral crown with a mix of thirteen ever-fresh flowers; and me, with my straight-out-of-bed hair and pajamas, standing in stark contrast with the other eleven witches who are all dressed up in black cloaks and hats.
Minerva completely ignores me. I know she’s a prude and hates me for not dressing up, but she doesn’t say a thing about it. Although I can see her disdain for me in her violet eyes. She drones on and on about things that I have no interest in so I doze off. Then she clears her throat loudly, waking me up before she finally gets to the important stuff—all witches are given a task during every meeting that they have to complete before the next meeting. Given that my cove
n is the guardian of nature, our tasks are usually stupid so I won’t bore you with them.
I am the last one in the last row and I hadn’t paid any attention to what the meeting was all about, so Minerva decides to hand me the death sentence.
“Cyrene, as you know that the only remaining and the most important ingredient is—I have no idea what she’s talking about—dragon hairs, it falls upon you to procure them for the potion before the next meeting of the coven.”
“What?” I say, unable to believe what she had just said.
“Dragon hair, my dear, it’s not that hard of a task,” Minerva says.
“You are kidding, right?”
“No,” she says seriously.
“That’s a death sentence. Why not just kill me now?”
“Cyrene, my love, I would never put you in danger. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t know you could—”
“How am I supposed to find a Dragon Shifter? How do I know it won’t kill me?” I begin protesting.
“I am sure you will find a way,” she smiles. I know she’s cackling inside, the evil bitch that she is.
“Why don’t you give me an easier task? Ask Bats to get dragon hair. Ask someone else. Give me an easier task.”
“Have faith in yourself, my dear Cyrene.”
“But I don’t know how to…” I begin to protest again, but the bitch turns her broom around and swooshes away.
“Fuuuucccckkk!”
Chapter Two - Potentially Bright Future
Cyrene
I know a lot of girls would give anything to become a witch and that I sound ungrateful when I say I don’t want to be one. Here’s the thing: Being a witch is hard. There’s no school of magic, no Hogwarts or a special academy where you can go to learn the art of magic. Witches are witches by birth, skipping a generation, so there’s nothing you can learn from your momma and the generation gap is even wider with grandmas. That is, if I had a grandma. You are supposed to figure things out all on your own or find them in a grimoire. All families of witches have grimoires, but they are HUGE, old, fragile and un-indexed. If you want to find something, there’s no spell for it. You have to manually go through hundreds of pages until you land on the one you are looking for. And, even then, you have to find weird-ass ingredients to make potions. And I respect myself too much to ask Minerva or any other witch for help.
