by Arizona Tape
We broke apart, staring into one another's eyes. "I love you, Ayra," he said, his words lifting my heart.
"I love you too, Devon," I replied. "But..."
"But?" he prompted, a smile curling at the side of his lips.
"Has the ceremony really made a difference?"
"Want me to take you home and find out?"
I nodded eagerly. That sounded like the perfect way to end the evening.
"Your wish is my command, lady wife," he mocked, but whisked me away, back to the car, with his promises ringing in my ears. Promises he more than fulfilled the moment we stepped back through the front door.
Epilogue
I opened my eyes and stretched lazily, looking forward to waking up next to Devon and doing some more of what we had last night. According to the Dragon Elders, we must make the most of my special fertility boost. It was a load of crap if anyone asked me. But I also wasn't going to say no to having lots of sex with Devon. Not when it was so fun. Not when it brought me to life in a way it hadn't with Sian. Apparently, it also brought out a splay of scales across my skin. That'd been new last night, but the look in Devon's eyes had told me how much he'd loved it. What I hadn't pointed out was that the same had happened to him. It was satisfying knowing that I was the one who'd made him feel like that.
I turned in the bed, expecting to find my dark haired, blue eyed, dragon lying next to me. Except...no.
No.
No.
No.
This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. It wasn't fair, not straight after such a wonderful night. Maybe it was because I'd turned twenty-five. Maybe I was supposed to be a vampire after all? But no, just the mere thought of drinking blood was making my stomach churn. That was something to be avoided at all costs.
"Sian? I asked tentatively. I wasn't sure why though. I knew it was her. I knew this room far too well for it to be anyone else.
"Go back to sleep, Tate," she murmured into her pillow.
"I'm not Tate," I admitted quietly. I didn't really want to, after all. I wasn't the only one this would be an awkward situation for.
"Of course you're Tate. You're Tate to me."
"No, Sian, listen. It's me, Ayra."
She shuffled in the bed for a moment, before sitting bolt upright and looking me straight in the eye. "It's really you, isn't it?" Hurt filled her eyes, and my heart broke for her. I couldn’t imagine this was how she wanted to wake up this morning either.
"Yes." I could hear the disappointment in my own voice. I just hoped Sian didn't take it personally. It wasn't about her, per say. It was more about the situation.
"I thought you were in control of the swaps?" she accused.
"I thought so too. But I'm here, and Tate's with Devon. Shit, I hope they're okay."
"They'll be fine, Ayra. They'll work it out. Just like we will," Sian reassured me. She was someone to be admired. Here I was, gatecrashing the bed she was supposed to be sharing with Tate. The woman she loved.
"It might not be," I said, jumping out of bed, and only then realising I was naked. Of course I was naked, what did I think they'd been up to while I'd been with Devon? I could hardly expect them to have joined a nunnery.
Sian averted her eyes, for which I was grateful, and I grabbed a t-shirt that must have been discarded the night before. I hope it was the night before anyway, but knowing Sian, it could be from longer ago. Not that it mattered. Really, I just needed something to make me feel less exposed.
"Have you tried swapping back?" Sian asked, clutching the sheet to her chest. She didn't want me to see her naked either then. Interesting, but not unexpected.
"No, but I will."
I closed my eyes tight and pictured Tate and my dragon. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing.
I grunted in frustration, wanting to punch something.
"No luck?" Sian asked, worry shining through her words.
"No," I replied, tears pooling in my eyes, forcing them open.
No. I wasn't having that.
Squeezing them shut, I began to chant in my head. Devon. Tate. Dragon. Devon. Tate. Dragon. One of them had to work.
I opened my eyes, half hoping I'd be back with my dragon. I wasn't.
I crumpled into a heap on the floor and curled myself into a ball.
"No, no, no, no, no, no." I kept muttering the word even as the tears began to fall. This couldn't be happening.
The End
Can’t Get Enough?
If you've enjoyed Ayra & Devon's story, but haven't read Tate & Sian's, you can download Soulshift here: books2read.com/Soulswap
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About Laura Greenwood
About the Authors
Laura is a USA Today Bestselling Paranormal Romance Author. Whether it’s witches, shifters or princesses, she writes the stories that just won’t leave her head.
While she’s not writing, Laura loves to read, bake and cook…apparently successfully!
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About Arizona Tape
Arizona Tape is quite a chaotic, young adult that shares her house with a cactus plant and has sleep dates with her bed. She makes up stories in her head all the time like a crazy person and occasionally writes them down too.
But only if the mood is right.
In her spare time, she enjoys discovering new places with her friends, making all kinds of food as she waltzes through her kitchen like a tornado or likes relaxing on her couch with a movie and a cosy blanket.
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What You Wish For by Gina Wynn
Read on for an excerpt of another time and soul bending tale, What You Wish For by Gina Wynn.
His knee rested against the back of my leg. A possessive arm wrapped over my waist, and a forehead nestled against my hair. Jake must have arrived home earlier than he expected from the stag weekend and melded to me during the night. We lay skin against skin, and I relaxed into his hold as warmth and familiarity seeped from him. The bubble of safety only my husband could provide surrounded me.
A smile tugged the corner of my lips as naughty thoughts of pleasure yet-to- come flashed through my head. I didn’t even bother to open my eyes as I wriggled around to return his hug, being sure to inject enough movement to bounce him awake. His chest rose and fell against my cheek with his every breath, and his heartbeat thudded in my ear. Home was where that heart was.
“Good morning, Maggie.” His melted chocolate voice, still drowsy with sleep, tickled my neck.
Not Jake.
Panic jolted me as my eyes flew open, and I launched over the side of the bed, failing in my attempt to look away as I did so. With the long glance I took by mistake, I’d require brain
bleach to scrub him from my mind. I huddled out of his line of sight with my stare—strong enough to have burnt a hole through the man—firmly fixed on unfamiliar carpet.
Bloody hell. My boss. All of him. In the bed I’d exited at warp speed.
I risked another quick glance in his direction. He lay propped on his side, dark hair tousled, smiling at me in a new lazy way. Bloody, bloody hell. I repeat, my boss. My boss, Will Brian.
Never Will Brian, always Mr. Brian. I corrected myself to the office formality he insisted on as I tried to look at him without seeing anything but his face. Holy chest skin, Batman. Well-defined muscular temptation in flesh form. Mr. Brian with really sexy bedhead. Bloody hell, again.
The horror crawling through me shut down all rational thought, narrowing my entire focus to the bedroom. His bedroom?
One room.
Me.
Him.
Nothing else.
The devil had woken up with frostbite. It was the only possible explanation to my world going mad. I inhaled a shaky breath, my brain stuck on one thought. Mr. Brian. Surely, I harboured zero attraction to him? Especially as he favoured issuing orders to me in a snappy coffee-breath voice in our usual day-to-day routine. Waking in his arms was quite the quantum leap from our normal yes, Mr. Brian, of course, Mr. Brian, I’ll hold all your calls, Mr. Brian relationship.
I closed my eyes against the view, although it didn’t help me ignore him. His image had seared itself to the inside of my eyelids, and no girl wanted a permanent reminder of her boss.
Really. No attraction, whatsoever. None at all. Because I’d never noticed his tight, firm… Never mind. Or the way he walked as I followed him along the corridor at work. Okay. So, I’d taken a non-existent—or maybe ever-so-slight—inappropriate boss fantasy right to sleeping in bed with the man. I’d come a long way.
I’d have said my wisdom was on the line, except ending up in his bed rated way worse than unwise. Spelling Mr. Brian as Mr. Brain on company documents was unwise—and stupid. Filing January invoices in December was unwise—and, according to Mr. Brian, worse than stupid. This…this verged on being very, very bad—and so much more than stupid. Unforgiveable, if I forced myself to be honest.
Note to self: Career suicide—never the way to ask for a pay increase.
“What, no ‘good morning, Will’?” He chuckled, and I didn’t know if my sudden goose bumps came from extreme lack of blankets or the unnervingly attractive sound of his amusement.
His laughter, somehow hauntingly familiar and comforting, wrapped me in unexpected safety. He never laughed at the office or, if he did, he went somewhere private to do it. Either way, he never seemed to find anything funny about working.
In our office.With me at his professional beck and call. The fact I relaxed a little in his presence must have been the result of my aspirations to find my inner Zen one day. I channelled Yoda and did imaginary breathing exercises, then clamped down on my bubble of hysteria before it rose any further up my throat. Relaxation, inner calm, and enlightenment? Not likely. I flashed a quick grimace, hoping to trigger the off-switch to my inner-monologue.
“Um. Hi…Will.” My voice came out part mumble, part squeak, as I crouched by the bed, still refusing to look at him as I referred to my always-formal boss by his first name in the most ridiculous of situations.
“Did I scare you?”
I dared a hasty glance, and he arched an eyebrow in amusement. Heat rushed through me, then cold horror as fresh awareness dawned. My buttocks rested on my calves as I squatted. My nipples hardened in the cool air as I huddled outside the covers. I was naked.
The situation couldn’t get worse.
Trying my best for nonchalance, I grasped the closest corner of the duvet and inched it towards me, intent on hiding as much flesh as possible. I released a slow, shallow breath as each fractional movement concealed more of my awkward form.
“Hey!” With laughter in his tone, he snagged the high thread-count covers back to his side of the bed. “You’re making me cold!”
I risked another peek over at him before searing afresh at his identical extreme lack of clothes. Naked…in bed. Oh God, naked in bed with my naked boss. No memory of getting there. And I’d started to grow cold again, too.
Note to self: Things could always get worse. Always.
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
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