by T. S. Ryder
"Dragons lie. They all lie!" The sparks around Pearl's hands died. A hollow look came to her eyes and she stared at Jessica with a raw, tortured expression. "You think he loves you? That's what Owen told me. But he lied. All he wanted was for me to have his child, and then after the baby was born he took her and I never saw either of them again."
Jessica's eyes widened. Pearl said herself that she’d never had any children… but she had been impregnated by a dragon? And then to have that dragon steal the baby away? Had she thought she was going to have a happily ever after as well, only to lose it?
A shiver ran up Jessica's spine, and she put a hand on Braden's arm, giving him a significant look before she approached the headmistress. Braden growled, but let her go. Her stomach was feeling heavier than normal, and the pain in her back was getting worse. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew what it meant, but she stamped on the thought, focusing on the situation at hand.
"Braden isn't Owen. He's not lying to me. I was the one to seek him out. He told me to stay home during the spring equinox." Jessica cautiously touched Pearl's hand. "What happened to you was horrible, but that's not what is happening to me. You can't paint all dragons with one brushstroke."
Pearl continued to stare at her with that hollow look. Her hand came up, brushing against Jessica's cheek. "You look just like him," she whispered.
Jessica's heart twisted as pain wrapped around her belly. Her breathing was shallow as she searched Pearl's eyes. Did she look like Owen? "What do you mean?"
Was she staring at her birth mother? She always knew she was adopted, but had never given any thought to who had given birth to her. Was it Pearl?
The headmistress shook her head. "I thought you might be when I first saw you. You're the right age. But when you were being tested for entrance to the university, it was clear that you have no dragon heritage."
Jessica let out a pent-up breath. "But?"
"But from the first time I saw you, I thought that maybe I could pretend, and watch over you as if you were my daughter. And I couldn't help but think that Owen must have done to other girls what he did to me, and I swore I would protect you, especially knowing what your parents did to you."
Braden stepped up beside Jessica, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You don't need to protect her anymore. That's my job now. I will rend anybody who tries to hurt her limb from limb."
Pearl's gaze shifted to him again and her lips thinned in disapproval. "You need to learn how to temper that violent streak of yours. I understand that you're the alpha of your gang of dragons, but it's not a healthy environment to bring up babies in."
"He's not violent, just protective," Jessica argued. "He's—"
Another pain curled around her belly and she couldn't stifle a gasp, leaning against Braden for strength as her knees buckled. He grabbed her, holding her upright, and Pearl reached out, though she withdrew at Braden's snarl.
"I think I need to go to the hospital," Jessica whispered. "But they're still three weeks early—"
"The babies will be fine," Braden told her, scooping her into his strong arms. The leather of his jacket brushed against her skin and she pressed a trembling hand to the tattoo of a sparrow above his heart. The steady thump against her palm helped soothe her. A little.
"We can take my car," Pearl said at once, but Braden shook his head.
"Flying is faster."
"I need to call Stafford." Jessica fished Braden's cell phone from his pocket as his jacket crumpled upwards, pushed aside by his magnificent black wings.
Stafford answered quickly, but they were already airborne at that point, and Jessica had to shout to make herself heard over the wind. Braden cradled her against his chest, wrapping her in his strength, and she closed her eyes. The pains kept coming, more rapidly now, and Jessica bit her tongue, holding in her whimpers. Her heart raced–what if it was too early? What if their twins were still too little to survive?
They arrived at the hospital within seconds, and this time the nurses knew to immediately show them to a room. The doctor came to them quickly and confirmed Jessica was in labor. Within moments they were transferred to the maternity ward, and Jessica was sucking in deep breaths to get through the contractions.
"Your water hasn't broken yet," the obstetrician told her after checking her. "I expect it will be another few hours yet. But seeing as it’s dragon twins, we'll keep you here."
He gave Braden a few instructions on how to help her through this, then left the two alone. Jessica forced a smile at her dragon, trying not to show how worried she was. "We never talked about names."
"Yeah," he said, a little breathless as he sat on the bed beside her. "I thought we could wait to see if they're girls or boys first."
"If they're boys, let's name them after your father and Stafford. And if they're girls—"
"My mother and you?"
"My middle name."
Braden smiled and kissed her forehead. "That sounds perfect."
Another contraction came and went, and Jessica turned on her side so that Braden could massage her lower back. Just knowing he was there helped, but she still shook as fears crowded her brain. If it was too early…
Pearl and Stafford arrived at the same time. Stafford blocked the headmistress from coming near Jessica until Braden told him it was okay, then hurried to his sister's side and held her hand. Jessica smiled gratefully at him, then winced as another contraction came.
"You really do love her." Pearl's voice was shocked as she stared at Braden, who continued to massage Jessica's back.
The dragon met the witch's eye. "Of course I do. And I will fight for her to my last breath."
"Don't talk about dying right now," Jessica moaned.
Braden kissed her shoulder. "I'm sorry. But it's true."
Pearl approached slowly, her brow furrowed. After a moment of silence, she nodded. "The witch you attacked is one of my students. I've been hearing rumors that you were defending another dragon after she attacked him for refusing her on the spring equinox. I'll have a little talk with her and get her to tell the truth. And…" She twisted her hands. "I'm sorry for what I did. I thought that…"
"You thought that I was going to steal our babies and leave Jessica." Braden's voice was carefully controlled.
"I did. And I'm sorry. Jessica, I hope you'll come back to university. You have great potential as a witch, and you need more training to get a good position."
Going back to school wasn't appealing, but now didn't seem like the time to make a decision. Not when she was in labor! "I'll think about it."
Jessica cried out as another contraction took her. They were so quick now; she didn't think it was possible for labor to set in so quickly. There was a sudden rush of fluid between her legs and she knew her water had broken.
"Get the doctor," she gasped as pressure built in her pelvis. "They're coming."
***
Erick and Stafford Clampett came into the world two healthy, screaming little boys. Within hours of their birth, smoke was puffing out of their nostrils, though Braden assured her that they wouldn’t start to breathe fire until their first shift. Both looked like their father—golden skin, black eyes—but they had Jessica's curls in their surprisingly thick hair.
When Jessica and the twins were released from the hospital two days later, she returned to the apartment to find it absolutely brimming with baby toys and diapers.
"The flock has been stopping by with gifts," Braden explained, shifting a giant bunny out of the way of the entrance. He carried both twins in their car seats. "They may have been a little over the top. Oh, and Pearl sent a message. She's going to buy us a house if we move back to the coven. I suppose it's her way of apologizing."
He didn't sound very forgiving, but Jessica only smiled as they waded through toys to the bedroom. "At least she got that witch who attacked Jacob to say what really happened. We have the option to move back if we want."
The witch rubbed her belly. It was soft again,
and still ached a little from giving birth, but the magic really helped to speed up the healing process. It felt strange not to have her babies kicking from the inside anymore, but gazing at their sweet little faces made her beam.
"My flock wants me to come back, so maybe it's worth thinking about." Braden shrugged. He set the twins down and unbuckled Erick while Jessica took little Stafford to the crib.
Big Stafford was back in the coven, having gotten his job back from Pearl. There wasn't enough room for him in the apartment right now, anyway, and Jessica was grateful that he recognized that she and Braden needed some time to connect to the babies, just the four of them.
After the twins were in their cribs, Braden picked her up and settled her in bed. He kissed her gently. "So. I have something for you."
Jessica leaned forward eagerly as he produced something from his pocket. It was a ring with an emerald set into a gold band. The metal was a little scratched up, indicating that it was very old. As Braden slid it onto her finger–the third finger on her left hand–Jessica's heart sped up and a smile bloomed over her face.
"It was my mother's ring, given to her by my father. It was his mother's ring, too. I want you to wear it… and be my wife."
"Yes!" Jessica hardly let him finish before she blurted out her answer. "Yes, yes, yes!"
Braden looked taken aback by her enthusiasm but smiled. "I take it you're happy."
"Of course I am." She pulled him close and pressed a kiss to his lips. "This is what I've wanted my whole life. Now I finally have it. My dragon. My twins. My happily ever after."
*****
THE END
The Werewolf's Secret Baby
Description
A BBW in danger PLUS a sexy alpha Wolf Shifter who is her ex PLUS a rival alpha and a deadly duel!
Desmond is the top dog in Louisiana and everyone knows it. When he gets an anonymous call about a group of blood enraged wolves attacking a local cabaret, he and his second in command go to investigate immediately.
Unfortunately, the place he’s led to happens to be the very place he’d been trying to avoid for years.
Now he’s being confronted with the love of his life, his ex, Marceline and becomes tangled up in her problems with the rival Louisiana alpha, Ramson.
Will he be able to get Ramson to back off of his mate? Or will Marceline leave his life once and for all?
Chapter One
Marceline’s. There was something off about the cabaret and it wasn’t that it had been ravaged by blood enraged werewolves from the rival North Louisiana pack. There was a draw here, something Desmond could feel deep in both his human soul and his beast spirit. A deep burn that left his stomach in a knot and his heart racing. Unexplained arousal and testosterone surrounded him in a cloud of musk so strong, even his own nose could detect it.
He’d tried to avoid this place ever since his mate had left him. He sure hadn’t expected the punch in the chest that seeing it, even in its ruined state, caused him. His heart ached at the sight of the ruined stage that he had helped to build...
With a rough shake of his head, he tried desperately to shake the thoughts away and focus on the task at hand. He tried hard to push away thoughts of her.
“Desmond,” Arin, his second, called out to him. He didn’t turn around, instead just listened as the other man picked his way past the splintered tables and upturned chairs of the strip club.
“Speak,” he ordered, once his pack mate had reached his side. The rich, iron tang of blood assaulted his nose, serving as a tell-tale sign of the other’s injuries. Not that he was surprised. When Ramson’s rouge wolf tipped him off that some of the rival alpha’s pack were plotting this attack, he’d expected some of his own would have to fight to drive them off.
“The place is cleared of wolves. Corwin and Larson took a few of the new bloods to track down the ones that ran off before we could finish them,” Arin reported. From the steadiness with which he spoke, his injuries couldn’t have been too bad.
“How many?”
“Total? Five. We killed three of them in here, the other two escaped. I just wish we’d have gotten here sooner. There were a few humans still alive when we got here, but...” he trailed off.
Desmond didn’t need him to finish, though. He understood. They hadn’t survived the bites, either because the damage was too great, or their human souls rejected the chance to harbor their beast spirit and accept the change. Most didn’t survive a werewolf attack. Out of the ones that did, many would have to be killed by their alpha after their first moon if they couldn’t get both halves of themselves, both beast and man, to exist in harmony together.
That’s what he suspected had happened to these wolves, though why Ramson hadn’t put them down before they attacked, he didn’t know.
“Did you happen to find any wolf bodies that didn’t belong?” he asked. The question would have sounded offhand, had his voice not cracked with tension and fear. Arin understood the implications behind his question. The shaggy-haired man rested a hand against his alpha’s shoulder.
“We all looked out for her. We didn’t find her. She must not have been here when they attacked.”
Desmond hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath until it whooshed out of him in a great sigh of relief. The tension that had coiled his muscles and squared his shoulders released marginally.
As if he knew the alpha wouldn’t want to talk further on the matter, Arin immediately continued on with his report.
“We’ve also called Perrine. She’s going to bring a few supplies from her shop to get this place cleaned up.”
“Good. I’ll wait here for her. Join Larson and Corwin. If you can, bring one of the blood enraged wolves back to me alive. It is best to make sure they just couldn’t handle the change and that there isn’t something bigger going on here,” Desmond ordered.
Arin bowed his head respectfully, then turned to sprint out the broken back door. Before he’d made it ten steps up the alley, his skin rippled, his head elongated and fur sprouted in patches across his skin.
Desmond turned away only when a fully shifted, smoke colored wolf let out a low, drawn out howl and turned the corner onto the main street, tongue lolling as he padded away. Only Arin could get away with running through the middle of town as a wolf without getting an earful from him.
He turned away from the back door with a shake of his head, itching to run with his pack mates, but the strange pull to something in the cabaret kept him there.
Chapter Two
Within moments of Arin leaving, the sound of a pistol being cocked behind him alerted him to the presence of another living creature seconds before an achingly familiar scent hit his nose. The pull that kept him so enthralled, attached and unable to forget, swelled overpoweringly until his entire ribcage seemed to vibrate with the sensation. She was here. Marceline.
“You take one step and I fire. These bullets are silver, you hear?” a distinct, creole accented voice of a female called out to him. His beast surged through him in response to the threat to the point it was hard to contain it.
“Turn around, right now. Go on.”
Desmond did as he was told though his skin had begun to ripple and his eyes shone with the silver of his wolf instead of the blue they should have been.
“I didn’t think you’d forget me so much that you wouldn’t recognize me from behind,” he said, voice low and gravely. As he turned around, his eyes immediately sought out the curvy form of his ex, and his heart all but shattered in his chest at the pain and anger that raged rampant in her dark eyes.
The pull he’d tried so desperately to ignore for years drew him to her and his entire frame flooded with the heat of desire. One look at her dark, satin skin and thick, exposed thighs and his beast spirit went from challenging to aroused. Sparks of longing shot straight to his groin as his mind flooded with the images of passionate nights of making love to the very woman he stared at.
Mine.
Only, she wasn’
t his. Not anymore. She’d made that very clear when she stormed from his house, straight out of his life. A full body shudder rolled down his spine and he clenched his eyes shut with a nearly imperceptible whine.
“I’m not taking your crap, Desmond. You’re redhanded in my territory. I knew you were petty and vengeful, but I didn’t think even you would destroy everything I had left to care about!” she snapped, as she lowered her gun at the sight of him and the faintest traces of grief and longing colored her dark eyes. Her dark, beautiful eyes. They still captivated his very soul even after all this time.
She felt it, too. He could see it in the way her hostile stance softened. The pull. Imprinting. He’d thought it’d only been legend and myth, but that was before they’d met. Everything between them was fiery and rough, hot and heavy, full of a passion he hadn’t been able to find with anyone else he’d tried to mate. None of them were as good as her.
“I didn’t do this. Use your nose, sweetheart,” he whispered.
Desmond had to force himself not to move as she moved closer to him and further into the destroyed cabaret. The way her thighs trembled with each step she took was maddening, not to mention her breasts. He wanted to bury his face in them. They were just as perfect as he remembered. She was just as perfect as he remembered.
“You lost your right to call me that, Papa Dog.” Marceline snapped. The causticness of her previous words had faded away significantly, instead being replaced with sadness. “But, you’re right at least. They smell like Ramson and his wolves.”
The other alpha’s name hit him like a freight train.
“You’ve been talking to him?” he growled out, stalking forward with a furious gaze until he stood mere inches from her. The very scent that rolled from her body, spicy, dominant and all too feminine, only fueled his anger that she even knew the other alpha’s name. She was his! She belonged to him and him alone.
